Ella’s spirits sank still further when she saw that the glamorous woman from the Ladies had joined the two men with whom Kate was having such an in depth conversation.
She stood shyly behind her friend, clutching her shoulder bag under one arm, and trying to ignore the fact that she felt like a country bumpkin.
‘Oh, hi,’ Kate said, swinging round to face her. ‘Are you ready to go?’
She nodded quickly.
‘Okay, then. We’ll make a move.’ She turned back to the two men. ‘We might see you there,’ she said, fluttering her long dark eyelashes at them. ‘If you’re lucky.’
‘See who, where?’ Ella asked as she followed Kate across the crowded room.
‘The Jazz Club on Sunday,’ she said, fiddling in her handbag for her car keys.
‘What?’
‘I only said, maybe. Anyway, didn’t you think they looked nice?’
Ella glanced over her shoulder. The two men had their backs to her, and were leaning over the bar, trying to attract the attention of the barmaid. ‘I thought they were someone you knew from work,’ she said.
‘I wish.’ Kate grinned at her. ‘No, we got chatting while you were in the loo. They’re up here on business, and they were asking what the local nightlife was like.’ She pointed her key at the car, and the doors clicked open. ‘So, what do you think?’
‘I think they were with that woman.’
‘What woman?’
‘The glamorous looking one with the red hair and the armfuls of gold bangles,’ she said. (The one who had made her feel decidedly dowdy and frumpy, and old before her time.)
‘So?’
Ella pulled a face at her. ‘Kate, you’re such an impossible flirt.’
‘Rubbish. I’m only trying to find a handsome young man for you. You need a man, Ella. Someone strong - someone who’ll look after you.’
‘I don’t need looking after,’ she said crossly. Her encounter with Miss Glamour Puss in the Ladies had shaken her confidence somewhat. ‘Anyway, I’m of the fervent opinion that horses are much less trouble than men. They’re always pleased to see me, and they never answer back.’
‘Yes, but you can’t cuddle up on the sofa with a horse, darling. Believe me – I know about these things.’ Kate switched on the ignition, and grinned wickedly across at her. ‘Now then, two o’clock, you said?’
As the blue sports car negotiated the narrow exit from the car park, a silver coloured BMW was manoeuvring itself into the newly vacated parking space.
Lewis Trevelyan was not in the best frame of minds. His return visit to the stables had been a complete waste of time. He still hadn’t found out who the blonde girl was, and negotiations with the County Showground committee had yet to be finalised. To crown it all, the director was agitating for a progress report as filming was about to commence at the studios, and they still hadn’t resolved where they were going to do the location shots.
He strode into the bar of the Hotel, and ordered himself a pint, before glancing around for his colleagues. They were sitting at a corner table, tucking into some gastronomic delight, which would no doubt cost him a fortune in expenses.
He took a much-needed mouthful of beer, wiped the frothy moustache away with the back of his hand, and then strolled over to join them.
‘Aha! The main man!’ James said, popping an olive into his mouth. ‘How did it go?’
‘Not too good,’ he said, pulling up a padded stool, and sitting down beside them. ‘Whoever that blonde girl was, she certainly wasn’t Caroline. How about you?’
Lucy flipped open her filofax. ‘We’ve had confirmation from Mr Fitzgerald that we can film at the show,’ she said. ‘And, barring any last minute hitches, we’re still on schedule for next month.’
‘Excellent.’ Lewis felt himself relax slightly. At least they were getting somewhere now. ‘When can Phil and the crew get up here?’
‘Two weeks,’ she said, flicking through the pages.
‘And Simon?’
‘Ah, we’ve got a slight problem with Simon,’ Matthew said.
Lewis glanced over at him. ‘What?’
‘He’s contracted to do a commercial in June. It’s not too serious, because we can work round that, but he’ll be out of the schedules for at least a fortnight.’
‘That’s okay,’ Lewis said. ‘As long as we’re aware of it we can warn Miles in advance. Anything else I should know?’
Lucy shook her head. ‘No, I think that’s it.’
‘Good,’ he said, picking up the menu and studying it carefully. ‘Because I’m starving. Anything here you can recommend?’
The goat’s cheese tartlet with sun-dried tomatoes was as good as it looked, and the apple granny that followed was even better.
Lewis was beginning to find himself warming to this particular neck of the woods. It had been a while since he had been anywhere but London. The country air must be doing him some good.
‘What’s happening about the stables situation?’ James asked. ‘Are you planning to go back there?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But only to find that girl. Now we’ve got the permission of the County Show ground, we don’t need to use it as a location anymore.’
‘Well I liked it,’ Lucy said sulkily.
‘Only because you suggested it,’ Matthew reminded her. ‘How did you hear about it, anyway?’
‘I asked Lucinda,’ she said. ‘She still keeps in touch with the horsey world, even though she hasn’t competed for years. She used to know Robert Johnson.’
Lewis glanced up at her. ‘I’ve heard of that name somewhere before.’
‘That wouldn’t surprise me. He was quite big in the show-jumping world. He won at Hickstead and Olympia, and all the major events.’ She took a sip of her iced water, before adding, ‘His stables and stud were renowned for churning out champion show jumpers, dressage and event horses. And then he was tragically killed – oh, about five or six years ago.’
‘In a fall?’
She shook her head. ‘No, it was a car accident. Sad, isn’t it? All those years of jumping, and he never had so much as a scratch.’ She drained her glass, and hooked out a cube of ice with a manicured finger. ‘I don’t suppose Lucinda knew what an oddball he’d married when he hitched up with that Ursula, though. She always spoke very highly of him.’
Odd being the operative word, Lewis thought.
‘Coffee, anyone?’
‘No thanks.’ Lewis smiled at the young waitress, and glared at Matthew, who was eyeing her up quite blatantly. ‘Do you have to?’ he muttered.
‘You’d think he’d had enough for one day,’ Lucy sneered. ‘What with those two girls at the stables and the one he chatted up in here.’
‘Ah, but she had a friend,’ he said, grinning. ‘She wasn’t bad looking either.’
‘Who – the girl, or the friend?’
‘Both,’ he said, swallowing the last of his beer. ‘If you’re interested, we’re meeting them at the Jazz Club on Sunday night.’
‘No, I’m not bloody interested,’ Lewis said. ‘Some of us are here to work, not to chase the local talent.’
‘Unless, of course, they’re blonde and beautiful,’ James observed, with a wry smile.
‘That’s different.’
‘If you say so, boss. By the way, one of those girls had blonde hair. Didn’t she, Matt?’
‘I’m not after any blonde,’ Lewis said. ‘It’s this one particular girl I’m after, which you would appreciate, if you’d been doing what I pay you for, and spotted her at the stables. I’m telling you, guys – she’s stunning, and I mean, stunning.’
If it hadn’t been for the fact that they had seen her riding through the woods that morning, he would have thought he was imagining her. But no, she existed all right. The question was where was he going to find her?
Ella’s friend, Kate was more than disappointed to discover that she had missed seeing the producer of Blackwater Films by a little less than half an hour.
> ‘Oh blast,’ she said. ‘Was he on his own?’
‘That he was,’ Thomas informed her. ‘And he didn’t stay long. About five minutes, at the most, I reckon.’
‘What – you mean he didn’t have any actors or famous people with him?’
‘Nope.’ He glanced at Ella, who was reading the list of names on the class lesson schedules. ‘He didn’t stay to see Caroline ride, either.’
‘Didn’t he?’ Ella looked up from her sheet of paper. ‘That’s a bit odd.’
‘He wasn’t looking best pleased when he left,’ he added. ‘Mind you, neither was Ursula. She’s been in a right bad mood every since.’
‘What’s new?’ Kate said. ‘Right, well, I’d better be going, Ella.’
‘Yes, okay.’ She gave her friend a hug, and a kiss. ‘Thanks for lunch, Kate. It was lovely. And I think your new car is brilliant.’
‘It should be. It’s costing me enough.’ She popped a pair of sunglasses on as she climbed into the driver’s seat.
‘Poser!’ Ella yelled.
‘Yeah.’ She grinned. ‘Great, isn’t it?’
Ella had barely enough time to get changed into her riding clothes before the start of the two o’clock lesson. She rushed upstairs and pulled on her jodhpurs without stopping to check with her stepmother what had happened. It seemed clear enough, anyway, from what Thomas had said that the omens for Caroline were not good.
She grabbed a riding hat and a pair of gloves from the tack room, and hurried into the yard, where the first of her students were arriving.
‘Thanks, Kelly,’ she said. The teenage stable girl had been as good as her word, and ensured that all the horses were tacked up and waiting for her.
‘Now then, Sarah, you’re on Paddy, Beth, you’ve got Jonty, and Rebecca, you’ve got…’ She scanned the list of horses. ‘You’re on Tuppence. Is Jennie here, yet? No? Well, we’ll get started, and she can join us in a minute.’
The group lesson consisted of what Ella termed the intermediate riders. No longer novices, they could control and ride their horses with a fairly secure seat. She was planning to introduce some jumping poles into the class structure, as some of the more confident girls had expressed a desire to give it a go.
Ursula was mortified when she saw her setting up the jumps in the middle of the sand school. She couldn’t have this. What if the film company came back, and decided to use the youngsters, instead of her daughters in the film. Worse still, what if they spotted Ella? No, no this wouldn’t do at all.
‘Ella!’ she said. ‘Ella!’
What now? Ella glanced up to see her stepmother standing at the gate to the arena, with her arms folded in front of her, looking anything but pleased.
‘Keep on riding round, girls,’ she said. ‘I won’t be a moment.’ She ran over to the railings. ‘What is it?’
‘You can’t do jumping with them?’ Ursula hissed.
‘Why ever not? They’re perfectly capable of it.’
‘Think of Caroline,’ she said.
‘Caroline?’ Ella looked confused.
‘It’s a long story,’ Ursula sighed. ‘I won’t bore you with the details. All I’m asking is that you postpone any jumping classes until next week.’
‘But I promised the girls…’
‘Please, Ella?’
‘Oh, all right,’ she sighed. ‘If you insist. They won’t be happy about it, though.’
That was the least of Ursula’s worries. She was more concerned about keeping Ella out of the way. What could she ask her to do that would keep her out of sight without arousing her suspicions?
And then the thought came to her. It was perfect – like a bolt from the blue.
‘You want me to do what?’ Ella said later, as if she could hardly believe her own ears.
‘An inventory of tack,’ Ursula repeated firmly. ‘I’ve detailed it all here. It’s time we had a sort out of all the stuff we’ve got around the place. Every bridle, saddle, bit and stirrup iron needs to be accounted for. I mean, it’s for your benefit as much as anyone else’s,’ she added slyly. ‘You need to know how much tack you’ve got. What better way than to do it yourself.’
‘But I’ve got lessons booked, and exercise sessions with the event horses.’
‘Yes, yes, I appreciate that, but this is more important, Ella.’
‘It is?’
‘Of course,’ she assured her. ‘But don’t worry. I’ve re-scheduled some of the other staff to take over your classes.’
‘But what about Majesty?’ she said. ‘You know Marion doesn’t like anyone else riding him but me.’
The horse in question was a stunning bay gelding who had been at the stables for less than three months. His owner, Marion Hutchins, had put him into livery when she started a full time job in a solicitor’s office, on the proviso that he was not to be used in class lessons, or ridden by anyone other than a very experienced rider.
‘Marion Hutchins pays for us to keep her horse fit and exercised,’ Ursula said bluntly. ‘I don’t suppose she gives two hoots who rides him as long as he’s kept in top class condition. That’s the trouble with these weekend horse people,’ she added with an unpleasant sneer. ‘They’ve no idea of the work involved. But don’t worry. I’m sure Vanessa will do very well on him.’
‘Vanessa?’ Ella choked. Things were going from bad to worse. Ursula surely didn’t think that Vanessa was the right rider for a horse of Majesty’s calibre.
‘If it doesn’t work out, we can always have a rethink,’ Ursula said firmly. ‘Let’s just give it a go, shall we?’
‘Starting from when?’ Ella said.
‘I think now, is as good a time as any,’ she said, handing her the list she had drawn up. ‘And while you’re at it, perhaps you could make sure everything has a proper clean as well. It would be nice if we could get everything into show condition before next week.’
‘Next week?’ Ella echoed. Was the woman going mad?
‘It’s for your benefit, dear,’ she assured her. ‘After all, no matter how much you try to ignore the fact, Hollyfield stables is your business, so really, these sort of tasks should be up to you.’
And with that parting comment, Ursula turned and marched gleefully back towards the house, her mission accomplished.
That had sorted out the little madam. There’d by no chance of her riding over hill and dale in full view of any lurking film crew. It would take her a week or more to sort through the jumble of mildewed leather harnesses and tarnished bits of tack. And if she finished that, there were dozens of other “essential” jobs she was sure she could think of to keep her safely out of sight.
All she had to do now was to convince Lewis Trevelyan that the girl he had seen riding the cross country course really was her own fair daughter – fair being the operative word.
‘No! No! Oh God! Mother! Mother!’
Vanessa’s hysterical screeching roused Ursula from a rather pleasant dream she was having about attending the Oscar’s ceremony in Hollywood. Simon De Silva looked so nice in a dark dinner suit. And Vanessa was particularly fetching in the crushed purple velvet dress she was wearing…
She blinked, and peered, bleary-eyed at the bedside clock.
‘Mother!’
The door crashed open, and Vanessa stood quivering, in her nightie, a large towel draped around her head. She was silhouetted in the doorway like an oversized lampshade.
‘It’s gone orange!’
‘What has, darling?’
‘My hair.’
‘Orange?’
Vanessa hiccupped loudly as she ripped the towel from her head to reveal the fact that, yes indeed; her hair had turned a rather brassy shade of carrot.
Ursula tilted her head to one side, as she fumbled for the light switch. ‘Oh my God,’ she murmured, horror etched on her face.
Vanessa flumped onto the bed, and heart-rending sobs erupted from somewhere deep inside her chest. ‘It’s not fair. It’s not fair. I followed the instructions on the
packet.’
‘Did you do a strand test?’
Ursula flicked on the light. My goodness, it looked worse – more marmalade, than carrot, she supposed.
‘Strand test? What’s that?’
‘A sample of hair – before you apply the whole packet. Well, obviously not,’ she observed.
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