Finding Hope at Hillside Farm

by Rachael Lucas

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. But yes, that sounds lovely.’

  ‘Good stuff.’ Alan gave an upwards nod. ‘Shall we get off before all the seats in the Lion are taken?’

  Lou leaned across and murmured in her ear. ‘I’ll be fine,’ he said, gently. She felt his lips grazing her cheek and turned, smiling. ‘Have a lovely time.’

  ‘Can we stay and watch the lights for a bit longer?’

  ‘Yes, we can,’ Jenny said, remembering what she’d been told about offering Hope options to make it easier. ‘Or we can go and see if Harry and Holly have arrived?’

  That did the trick.

  ‘Are you two off?’ Ella offered Hope a marshmallow that she’d been toasting on a wooden skewer. ‘Do you want this?’

  Hope frowned thoughtfully. ‘I might.’ She reached out a cautious gloved hand and took it, but made no attempt to eat it. ‘We’re going back to see Holly,’ she explained.

  ‘That’s nice,’ said Ella, smiling. ‘Is Holly your friend?’ She looked at Jenny for clarification. Jenny shook her head. ‘Friend of the family. We all love Holly, don’t we, darling?’

  ‘Ah,’ said Ella. She lifted a finger, as if to say she’d say no more on the subject.

  ‘See you soon then, Hope.’

  They waved goodbye to Ella and Lissa, and after one last look at the sparkling Christmas lights, headed back to find the car.

  ‘Holly!’

  ‘Hello, beautiful face.’

  Harry watched as Hope leapt into Holly’s arms and she spun her in the air.

  ‘We saw Christmas lights and I got a marshmallow stuck on my coat, look.’

  Hope pulled forward the fabric, showing a smeary circle of pink goo. She swung her legs, still in Holly’s arms.

  ‘Let me take that, honey.’ Harry reached across and Holly, reading his mind, put her down on the edge of the table. He unbuttoned her coat and went to the kitchen sink, picking up a sponge to try and remove the sugary mess.

  ‘Can I show you my bedroom? You could sleep in my bed with me. Where’s Grandpa?’

  He turned to see Jenny walking into the room. She opened her eyes in an exaggerated gesture of horror which made him laugh. Holly took Hope by the hand.

  ‘Why don’t you show me your room, sweetheart.’

  ‘I can do that if you like,’ Jenny indicated the coat that was in his hands.

  ‘It’s going to need a wash. How did she get a marshmallow stuck to her?’

  ‘Oh, the girl from the stables was working on the stall with one of the teachers – everyone seems to know everyone here – she gave her a toasted marshmallow at the end of the night.’

  ‘And she didn’t eat it.’

  ‘She wanted to save it until we got home. You missed the tears in the car park. Have you two eaten? There’s soup in the warming oven.’

  ‘We’ve had some, thanks.’

  Harry checked the pockets of Hope’s coat, removing a wizened conker, two fidget toys, a yo-yo, a plastic horse and a couple of large stones. He put them on the table.

  ‘Holly looks well.’

  Harry picked up the stones and turned them around in his fingers. Jenny’s tone was curious, but there was something – after the thoughts that had passed through his mind today – that made him feel uncomfortable about that statement, where in the past it wouldn’t have given him pause.

  ‘Hope’s glad to see her.’

  ‘Lou’s gone off for a drink at the Lion with his new friend from the village,’ Jenny said, carrying on, oblivious. Maybe he was overthinking all of it. Maybe signing over the house, and all the stuff that came along with that, was making him go a bit odd. He filled up his wine glass and another for Jenny and handed it to her, silently. Perhaps he just needed to sit down and stop thinking for a bit. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Hope giggling at something Holly had said. Was the answer to everything right in front of his nose?

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Ella

  Ella put Tor back in the stable and stood back for a moment in the yard, watching as Brian and Carol chatted outside the waiting room. It was another ice-bright day. The horses’ breath clouded from their nostrils as they hung over the stable doors, peering to see what was going on. Sweetbriar clattered an impatient hoof against the door.

  ‘That’s enough, madam,’ Charlotte laughed, reaching up to fasten the head collar around her neck. ‘I’m going to stick her in the outdoor school for a sec so I can clear this properly.’

  ‘There’s a haynet up there, I think.’

  ‘Cool.’

  Charlotte hitched up her jeans and picked up the lead rope. She leaned across to Tor and scratched him on the forehead where his hair whorled outwards like a Catherine wheel. He whickered hopefully as she moved away, unbolting Sweetbriar’s door and leading her across the yard. They dodged the puddles, which were fringed with sharp-edged ice from yesterday. Brian and Carol were chatting happily, laughing together. It was such a change for them both. They’d arrived wound up and apprehensive with their own issues to overcome, but the therapy was working its magic.

  Ella watched as Carol pushed a hair back with her hand and ducked her head. Was she flirting?

  Brian caught Ella’s eye. ‘I’m going to need a Stetson, not one of these,’ he said, motioning to the protective riding hat he was fastening on his head.

  ‘I’d stick with the hat if I were you,’ Carol said. ‘You don’t want to fall off halfway across the wilds of Montana and end up with a head injury.’

  ‘Right,’ Ella said cheerfully, before either of them spiralled into their respective worries. ‘Carol, same time next week?’

  She nodded, jingling her car keys, and gave Brian a shy smile. ‘Good luck.’

  ‘And Brian, I’ll be with you in a moment, OK? Ready?’

  ‘As I’ll ever be.’ He winked at Carol, who giggled.

  Ella tended to leave a gap between clients so they didn’t have to make awkward conversation, but somehow Brian and Carol had ended up coming on the same day. Carol’s tendency to hover after the session, coupled with Brian’s habit of turning up half an hour early, could have been a problem, but they seemed to be getting on surprisingly well. Last week, Ella had found them sitting in the armchairs in the waiting room, both sipping coffee from the little machine on the desk.

  Charlotte had decorated the waiting room with a little pine tree in a pot, and on the desk were several Christmas cards from clients and ex-clients alike. All of them were filled with messages of hope and happiness.

  ‘You should frame all these, then you can look at them when you’re having a bad day,’ Charlotte had observed earlier, shuffling them around to make space on the desk.

  Ella waved goodbye to Carol and turned to Brian. They were going into the indoor school today to do some work with Echo, who was taller than Muffin but by far the gentlest horse they owned. Brian baulked slightly on opening the door.

  ‘Bloody hell, he’s massive.’

  Rather than rushing to say anything, Ella held back and waited. After a few moments, Brian stepped forward. Echo dropped his head low to the ground and stood surveying him, one ear cocked forward in interest, the other flopped back. He was comfortable – but what Brian did next would set the tone for the session.

  Brian dropped a hand low to his side, extending it palm out, as he’d learned to do with Muffin. Echo took a step forward, and his nostrils flared as he sized up the situation. Brian took a step. Echo paused, as if to give him space. And Ella watched as man and horse slowly met in the middle of the school, both looking calm and relaxed.

  ‘He’s not so big close up.’ Brian turned to her, beaming. Echo put his nose into his palm and rested it there for a moment, his eyes soft and peaceful. That was the ultimate sign. Horses could read unspoken body language so well that if Brian had been trying to cover up his worries with bravado, Echo would have kept his distance.

  ‘OK,’ Ella said, unable to suppress a huge grin of triumph. ‘Let’s get to
work, shall we?’

  ‘Was that Brian leading Echo back to the paddock I saw earlier?’

  Charlotte spoke through a mouthful of crisps, her chin in her hands. They were sitting at the kitchen table having a late lunch. The dogs were lying under the table in the hope of scavenging some crumbs, but Charlotte dabbed her finger on the table and collected them, shoving them into her mouth. Probably with a side helping of cat fluff and dust, Ella thought, pulling a face.

  ‘Yes.’ Brian had led Echo all the way out, chatting away quite happily. It was wonderful to see how quickly he was coming on. ‘He’s doing really well.’

  The newspaper article had gone online as well as in print, and there had been a steady stream of new bookings coming in, which was making a huge difference. When she’d spoken to Bron by Skype the other day it had been lovely to tell her that they were doing well, and to really mean it. It was such a good feeling to know that she’d managed to make a difference. She put her misgivings about spending Christmas alone to one side, along with her worries about money. Bookings were beginning to come in, and it looked like maybe – just maybe – she might find a way through.

  ‘And Carol’s doing really well, too.’

  ‘Did you notice –’ Charlotte raised a knowing eyebrow. ‘There was a bit of flirtage going on?’

  Ella put a finger to her lips, smiling. ‘Shush.’ She widened her eyes. ‘Yes. Brian’s arriving earlier and earlier, and Carol’s hovering afterwards.’

  ‘Your first stable romance?’

  ‘I doubt it, somehow. Brian was talking about some woman from work he’d met, and I think Carol’s still getting over her horrible ex.’

  ‘He’s nice, though, Brian.’

  Ella nodded, pushing her chair back to stand up. They had an afternoon free, and countless little jobs that had been waiting to sort out. A builder from the village was coming to look at the mortar that was crumbling away on the side wall of the foaling stable.

  ‘Nice,’ Charlotte continued, thoughtfully. ‘And rich. I wish I could go to Montana and ride around for a month.’

  ‘Well, keep this up and maybe you might be able to.’

  ‘Get rich working with horses? No chance.’ She snorted and pointed to the ever-present heap of paperwork on the table. ‘Talking of which, there’s a bill there from Nick. He popped in when you were in the school with Carol.’

  Ella picked it up and tore the envelope open. She’d managed to duck out of his last visit to trim the horses’ feet, asking Charlotte to supervise, saying she had to pop to the big supermarket to get some paper for the printer. She’d stayed out of the way for a couple of hours, having a coffee in the little drive-through McDonald’s outside, and yet she’d still managed to pass his van on the way back up the lane. He’d pulled into the passing place and waved as she edged the Land Rover past.

  There was nothing going on between them, but she still felt super-awkward about bumping into him. Logic stated that it would get worse the longer she left it.

  She took a deep breath.

  ‘I might just nip down this afternoon, pay him and get it sorted.’

  Charlotte looked alarmed. ‘You can’t do that.’

  ‘Whyever not?’

  ‘I’ve just remembered –’ Charlotte’s hand flew to her mouth and her cheeks stained pink. ‘I booked Hope in for an hour at two. I completely forgot to tell you. I saw the diary was empty and I remembered you’re trying to get more bookings and Jenny asked if we could fit her in for an extra session.’

  ‘It’s fine.’ Ella took advantage of Charlotte’s pausing to draw breath. Now she had a perfectly valid excuse to carry on avoiding Nick.

  Later that evening, Ella sat at the kitchen table. Charlotte – who had taken to staying over whenever possible – was under a heap of blankets and dogs by the fire, watching some of Ella’s ancient training DVDs.

  She pushed open the laptop and clicked on the Skype icon, hoping that tonight was going to be a night when the wi-fi behaved itself. There was no accounting for it – some days it worked perfectly well, others trying to get a connection was impossible.

  The familiar tone rang out, and she shoved in the earbuds and clicked answer.

  ‘Hello, my love!’ Bron’s face came into view on the screen. The sound was delayed, so her mouth moved a little out of sync with her words. Their chats were always the same, though, and Ella was getting used to the strange echo effect.

  ‘Evening –’ Ella looked up at the clock – ‘or should I say morning. What time is it with you?’

  ‘Eight o’clock,’ said Bron, smiling. ‘And it’s 24 degrees already. Going to be a scorcher today, I reckon.’

  ‘Nice for you. The rain started this afternoon and hasn’t stopped yet. I’ve had to juggle a load of wet horses and a feed delivery. Charlotte’s still defrosting in the sitting room.’

  ‘I’m glad you’ve got company. She seems to be working out well.’

  ‘Really well. Couldn’t manage without her. Even if she did book me in for a session with Hope this afternoon and forget to tell me about it.’

  ‘Ah,’ Bron raised her eyebrows, laughing. ‘How’s it going? How are you enjoying working with a little one?’

  ‘She’s lovely.’

  Ella had taken Hope into the arena with Muffin in the winter afternoon darkness, letting her groom him, not asking anything of her. Jenny had sat up on the chairs at the edge of the school, drinking coffee and reading a magazine, wrapped in a fleece. She’d come dressed for the occasion the last couple of times, rather than in the smart jacket she’d had on the first time they’d met. She seemed to be relaxing into country life, and so did Hope.

  ‘We went to see a haunted house with Holly,’ Hope said, as she shoved Muffin’s mane over to one side of his neck, and begun brushing the underside.

  ‘A haunted house?’

  ‘Yes.’ Hope nodded solemnly. ‘There were seventeen ghosts in it.’

  Ella waited. Hope brushed, the plastic curry comb swishing through Muffin’s long grey hair.

  ‘How do you think Muffin feels about having his hair brushed?’

  Hope frowned.

  ‘I think he likes it. Look, he’s got his eyes half closed. That means he’s sleepy and relaxed.’

  Hope leaned her face against Muffin’s mane and sniffed it. ‘He smells all warm and of biscuits.’

  She carried on grooming him. Ella had noticed what might not be apparent to outsiders – Muffin’s calm and relaxed state was a sign that Hope was feeling peaceful. The therapy was working.

  ‘It sounds like you’re doing some really good work with her,’ The picture on the laptop screen stuttered for a moment and Bron’s face froze midway through a word, her eyes closed. The sound carried on. ‘You’re not overdoing it, though?’

  Ella stared at the screen and it resolved itself, coming back to life. ‘No, definitely not.’ She was exhausted, if she was honest with herself; but the money coming in was enough to satisfy the council with a payment, along with a promise that more was to come in monthly instalments. But Bron didn’t know that, and she wasn’t going to bring it up.

  ‘Isobel’s doing well. I was going to get her on to say hello, but she’s still in bed, the lazy moo.’ Bron laughed. ‘And we’ve got Christmas dinner all sorted. Shrimps on the barbie, and all that.’

  ‘You are not.’ Ella listened to the rain thrumming on the windows. It was getting louder, and tomorrow was going to be hard going at this rate.

  ‘Not quite,’ Bron laughed. ‘But we’re having lunch with some friends from across the street. Are you spending it with Lissa?’

  Ella shook her head.

  ‘Lissa’s got a family thing on.’

  ‘Oh, Ell. You’re not going to be all on your own? I feel terrible now.’

  In the background, Ella could see the sun stretching out through the French windows of her aunt Isobel’s bungalow. She longed to step through the screen and into the picture, give Bron a hug and sit down on a sunbed with a c
ool drink.

  ‘Ell?’

  ‘Sorry, I was just daydreaming.’ She watched herself smiling in the corner of the screen, knowing Bron would be checking anxiously for signs she was miserable or not coping – and she was neither. ‘Actually, Hope invited me to go down to the cottage to have Christmas dinner with her family.’

  There was a pause as the news travelled, and then Bron pulled a face.

  ‘How does Hope’s grandma feel about that? What did you say her name was? Jessie?’

  ‘Jenny.’ Ella laughed at Bron, who had a thing about names. ‘I tried to back out of it, because there’s nothing worse than a child inviting you somewhere you’re not wanted, but Jenny insisted. Said she’d ordered a massive turkey from the butcher and they’d be glad of the company.’

  ‘So it’ll be the four of you for dinner. Maybe you could make one of your nice pavlovas for pudding?’

  ‘I was thinking that.’ Ella eyed Nigella Christmas, which was already lying open on the kitchen table. She’d been contemplating what to make by way of a thank-you. ‘But there’s six, not four – Hope’s dad is there, too. And his girlfriend, as far as I can gather.’

  ‘Nice,’ said Bron, with an expression that suggested the opposite. The screen froze once again, leaving her looking like she’d sucked a lemon. Ella laughed.

  ‘You’ve gone all funny,’ Bron’s voice said, staccato. ‘This picture’s not –’

  The screen went black.

  Unable to make a connection, the computer said.

  A message flashed up a second later on the chat box.

  Sorry, this thing’s gone to buggery. Talk soon! Xxx

  There was a banging at the door and a crash as Lissa swung in, soaked, her hair hanging in wet rat’s tails around her face. The dogs had leapt off Charlotte’s sofa and hurtled through, their tails wagging furiously.

  ‘If the mountain won’t come to Mohammed, etc.,’ she said, holding a bottle of wine and an overnight bag. ‘I’ve brought my marking.’