She looked up at the photograph on the mantelpiece above the wood burner and smiled sadly. Living after the death of a child was a burden she’d managed to carry for five years now, but God, it was hard. So hard sometimes that grief would hit her with a wave that felt like she’d been struck in the back of the legs with a heavy axe, and her knees would just buckle underneath her. Once, when Sarah was only just gone, she’d crumpled onto a wooden pallet in Ikea of all places and wept desperate, gulping sobs – all because her beloved darling girl wasn’t there to laugh about the ridiculous names of the products with her.
A tear rolled down her cheek, and she pushed it away with a finger. She’d hoped, secretly, that perhaps moving somewhere different would mean that this year the memories would let Hope have the sort of Christmas she should have – not one where she found Grandma weeping over the sprouts, or switching off the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols on Radio Four on Christmas Eve because it reminded her all too painfully of the mince-pie baking sessions she and Sarah used to share.
The trouble with Christmas, it turned out, was that there was something about the familiar rituals that just drew attention to the loved ones who were no longer at the table. Perhaps that’s why Harry had been so out of sorts – inviting someone he hadn’t even met before to join them had seemed like a kind gesture by Hope. She’d been so touched by that that she’d dismissed all the other concerns around inviting someone into an occasion which always seemed to bring her emotions to the surface. The thing was, grief didn’t fade away slowly year on year. It swelled up and burst out at the most unexpected and inconvenient of times.
Poor Harry. No wonder he’d looked so uncomfortable, shoving his dinner around on the plate and grunting monosyllables when they tried to engage him in conversation with Ella. She hoped he hadn’t thought they were trying to set him up with her. She’d been wondering, in fact, if there was something more than friendship going on with him and Holly when she’d come to visit. It was probably wishful thinking, hoping that he’d end up with Sarah’s best friend. She’d been reading too many romance novels in the bath.
‘Nice car.’
Ella finally spoke when she buckled her seatbelt. She didn’t turn to look at him, but faced directly ahead.
‘Thanks.’
He mirrored her movements and sat there for a moment in the dark, strapped into his seat. His heart was banging against his ribs so hard that he was sure she could hear it.
He switched on the ignition, and realized with a sigh of irritation that the inside of the car was fogged up with condensation after the temperature had dropped. This bloody car, he thought. He switched on the air conditioning and waited.
‘What –’ she began.
‘I –’ he said, at almost the same moment.
They both stopped, and an excruciating silence fell again. Harry reached down into the door pocket, desperately hoping there was a cloth or something he could use to clear the windscreen.
‘Do you want me to just walk?’ Ella said, quietly.
‘Hardly.’ His voice was a rasp.
‘Look, there’s no horse crisis. You know that, right?’
He flicked a glance at her profile in the darkness. It was lit softly by the outside lights of the cottage and in one brief, snatched look, he took in the features he’d tried so hard to forget.
He swallowed. ‘I suspected as much.’
Ella’s shoulders dropped slightly. ‘I wouldn’t have come if –’
He’d expected anger, and she seemed – regretful. She gnawed on a thumbnail and gazed out of the passenger seat window.
The windscreen was half cleared now, at least. If he crept up the lane, he’d be able to manage it – if he leaned forward and peered. But the idea of beetling up the hill like an elderly gent taking a day trip felt humiliating somehow, so he put a foot gently on the accelerator and revved the engine slightly, hoping to warm it up.
‘I had no idea you’d be here.’ Ella’s words tumbled out, breathlessly. ‘How was I supposed to know that of all the men in the world, you would be the father of the little girl who moved into the holiday cottage down the lane?’
She’d turned to look at him now, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
‘I moved here to get away. I moved to Bron’s house where nobody would find me and where I could start all over again.’
Harry put a hand to his head, dashing his forehead with his palm. No wonder the place had seemed naggingly familiar. He’d visited Bron’s house with Ella when they first got together, spending a rainy weekend by the fire, only dashing out to pick up supplies. Bron had been away on a training course somewhere, and they’d enjoyed playing house and dreaming that one day they could live in a house like that. He shook his head and groaned.
‘What is it?’
‘I was stuck in traffic when Jenny sent me directions. She was supposed to be –’
‘Moving to a different cottage in another village. I know.’
He’d worked so hard to get Ella out of his head and here she was, sitting in his bloody car.
‘Llan-something, she said.’
‘Everything’s Llan-something in Wales. It means town.’ Ella gave an ironic laugh.
The windscreen was clear, but they still hadn’t moved.
He shook his head again, in disbelief, and pulled the car out of the driveway.
‘This is it,’ said Ella. The security light shone brightly in their eyes as he swung into the wide entrance of the farm, and in a moment Harry realized where he was.
‘I remember now.’
She nodded.
‘And you live – here?’ He leaned forward, looking at the whitewashed cottage which sat on a ridge of slate. Inside – even with the car doors shut – he could hear the frantic barking of dogs.
‘Ever since the –’
And in that second it flashed back into Harry’s mind. He saw the headlines and remembered that the woman sitting in the car with him was the same person who’d gone to court and said that she couldn’t remember what happened, but that she thought it must have been his fault the lorry crashed. Must have been his fault her father had died instantly. Must have been his fault the other driver had life-changing injuries and she broke her hip. He felt a twist of anger.
‘You’ve been here all this time, and you never once wanted to get in touch and say sorry?’
‘A million times, Harry.’ Ella’s voice was flat.
‘You tried to destroy me for something I didn’t do.’ He could hear the blood rushing in his ears again. ‘I didn’t do it.’
‘I know.’
It took a moment to listen. A moment to absorb what she’d just said.
‘I blamed you, Harry, because it was easier than accepting that sometimes accidents just happen.’
‘But the inquest said –’
‘It said there was a fault in the traffic control system. Nobody could have helped what happened.’
He ran his hands through his hair, leaving it standing on end, giving a huge sigh.
‘But you said to the paper it was my fault.’
‘I told a journalist I couldn’t help blaming you.’ She looked at him, directly. ‘And I will regret that for the rest of my life.
‘You’d better go. Hope’s waiting down there for the rest of Christmas.’
‘She wants you there.’
‘I know.’
‘She’s talked about you non-stop for weeks.’
Ella smiled. ‘She is a lovely girl.’
‘I know.’
She went to open the door, and he was surprised to find himself saying the words.
‘Ella?’
She turned, the car door half-open. She looked at him as if to say go on.
‘Would you . . . I know it’s a lot to ask. But I’d stay out of the way. It’s just – it’s so nice to see her engaged with another person. We’ve had trouble getting Hope to talk to strangers at all, and she seems to genuinely want to spend time in your company.’<
br />
‘I don’t think so, Mac.’
Their eyes met for a second. Nobody had used that nickname for him since their divorce.
‘You bloody well owe me,’ he exploded, banging his hand on the steering wheel. Something in the intimacy of that moment had opened a floodgate. ‘Fuck, Ella. You put me through hell.’
She dropped her head again. ‘I know.’
‘Come back. It doesn’t matter about us. They don’t know. I just want –’ he ran a hand through his hair, realizing it was soaked – ‘I need Hope to have a good day. I’m trying to get things right at last.’
‘At last?’
‘I’ve been pretty useless. She deserves better.’ He watched her chewing on her lip, and knew then she was undecided. ‘Please?’
‘OK.’ She opened the car door and got out.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Getting the jump leads.’
She ran across the yard to the barn and slid open the heavy wooden door. A light flickered on in the gathering dusk, and she emerged a few minutes later. ‘OK.’ She clicked her seatbelt fastened once again. ‘Let’s do this.’
‘What will I say?’ Ella stood on the doorstep of the cottage, biting her lip.
‘Tell them it was a false alarm. They don’t have a clue about horses.’ Harry turned the doorknob and they stepped inside.
‘About –’ she stumbled over the word. ‘Us. I meant about us.’
Harry shook his head. ‘Nothing. Not now. God, not now.’
‘Ella!’ Hope gave a little shriek of joy and did a dance of excitement on the mat. ‘You came back!’
It was lovely to see her so animated. When she compared the Hope of now to the frightened shadow she’d caught hiding in the hedge just a couple of months ago, it was hard to believe she was the same girl.
‘Will you sit next to me? Grandma’s making hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows and we’re going to watch Frozen.’
‘I’d love to.’
Jenny dropped a hand on her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen. ‘I’m glad you could come back,’ she said, giving her a warm squeeze.
‘Me too.’
‘Me three,’ chirruped Hope. ‘Which one is your favourite, Ella – Elsa or Anna?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve never seen Frozen.’
‘You’ve what?’ said Harry. He looked at her with his dark eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘I thought everyone in the whole world had seen Frozen at least five hundred and forty-seven times.’
‘Five hundred and forty-eight, actually,’ said Hope, giggling.
Ella shook her head. ‘Well, if you two are the experts, perhaps you could fill me in.’ She moved along the sofa a little so there was room for Harry to take his place beside a delighted Hope, who sat between them like the filling of a particularly happy sandwich.
‘I might nip off for a quick post-prandial snooze,’ said Lou, directing a wink at Ella. ‘I’ve seen this film more times than I care to admit.’
They sat by the light of the fire together and watched the film in contented silence. Jenny popped in once, to deliver a cup of coffee to the adults, but disappeared straight afterwards. Ella was surprised at how natural it felt to be there.
Chapter Twenty-six
Ella
It was two days after Christmas, and Ella was standing in the stable yard, hands on hips, trying to work out where to begin. She’d slacked off for a couple of days and, with Charlotte on a surprise trip to Disneyland with her grandparents – slightly at odds, Ella thought, with her rainbow-haired, many-piercings appearance – there was nobody but her to get everything done. And the yard looked a bit like Lissa’s house, only with tangles of haynets instead of discarded tights lying all over the place. She’d been glad to get home after the shock of Christmas Day. Spending time with the horses was the company she wanted – they didn’t ask anything of her, and she needed the headspace.
The clatter of the gate opening alerted her and the dogs at the same moment. Hope was there, crouched on the ground, laughing as both dogs prostrated themselves on the floor to be tickled.
‘I’m sorry.’ She heard Harry before she saw him. He stood in the gateway, one hand on the post. He rubbed his jaw, looking uncomfortable. ‘We were supposed to be going for a walk up the hill, and –’
‘And I said we should come in so Harry could see the horses. Can I show him?’ Hope’s voice was clear and carrying, and – confident. How could Ella resist?
‘Of course.’ She spun round, mainly to give herself time to gather her thoughts, and headed back towards the yard where the horses were waiting. There was a clatter of hooves and a shuffling of straw as they peered over their stable doors to see who had come to visit, and what the likelihood was of some extra treats. Little Muffin, hearing Hope’s voice, pierced the air with a high-pitched whinny.
‘Help yourself.’ Ella tried to smile, but she knew it didn’t meet her eyes. Harry held back, looking just as uncomfortable as she felt. Hope, oblivious, ran towards Muffin and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his long mane. She watched Harry’s face soften then and he stepped towards Hope, putting a hand on her shoulder.
‘So this is the famous Muffin.’
Hope nodded. Muffin nudged hopefully at her arm, looking for treats.
‘Very nice to meet you, Muffin,’ said Harry, solemnly. He caught Ella’s eye for a moment, then looked away in an instant, turning back to look at the pony.
She busied herself, picking up a broom and carrying on with the tasks she had set herself for the morning, but it was impossible to work. She felt painfully aware of Harry’s presence, and conscious as well that Hope might pick up on her tension. She didn’t want to undo all the progress they’d made.
‘I’m going to put the kettle on,’ she found herself saying. It slipped out almost before she knew what she’d done. ‘Would you like a coffee?’
‘That would be great,’ said Harry.
Inside, she set the kettle on the hotplate of the Aga to boil and busied herself gathering everything onto a tray to take out to the stables. Hope could have some apple juice, and there were probably some chocolate biscuits left over somewhere. She pulled open the cupboard. Marmalade, the stable cat, was dozing inside on a pile of tea towels.
‘You should be out earning your keep,’ Ella tutted at him. He opened one lazy eye and gave a small chirrup of agreement before going back to sleep.
Ella carried the loaded tray outside and set it down on the top of a bale of wood shavings. ‘Here you are.’
‘Ooh, biscuits,’ said Hope.
‘Coffee?’ Ella lifted the cafetière. It kept her going on winter days – it was double-walled against the cold, so she made a huge pot mid-morning to sustain her until lunchtime. Charlotte preferred to drink vast quantities of Diet Coke, swigging it from a bottle which was never far from her side.
‘Thanks.’ Harry’s eyes met hers briefly as he took a sip. It was only then that she realized she’d handed it to him black, without thinking, knowing how he took it.
‘Oh –’ she added. ‘There’s sugar there. I mean, if you want it.’
‘I don’t,’ said Harry. He gave a grim smile. ‘Can’t stand the stuff.’
Ella, who knew that, too, hid her face behind her mug and took a sip of too-hot coffee, which made her cough.
‘Of course.’
‘Can I have another biscuit?’
Hope was so cheerful and happy. Ella passed the packet over. ‘Have two.’
‘So –’ Harry cleared his throat. ‘Equine therapy.’
Ella nodded.
‘How does it work, exactly? I was thinking of the stuff they do with Riding for the Disabled, but it’s not that, is it?’
‘Everyone thinks that.’ Ella reached underneath Sweetbriar’s mane and scratched her neck, smiling as the mare reached forward, nudging Harry on the arm. She was grumpy at the best of times, but now, heavily in foal, her mood was only alleviated with continual attention. Ella
carried on rubbing the mare’s neck.
‘If you’re trying to get a horse to do something and you’re too nervous, or aggressive, they just won’t do anything. So if I’m working with adults, I get them working through a course of obstacles. They have to get the horse to follow them.’
‘On a lead rein?’ Harry looked interested.
‘No, at liberty. Free.’
‘How do you do that?’
‘Trust,’ Ella said. She glanced down at the concrete floor, pushing a piece of straw with her toe. They’d strayed into uncomfortable territory.
‘So if I want Muffin to do something with me, I have to use my body language to show him,’ said Hope.
‘Of course,’ said Harry, with a slightly-too-hearty laugh. ‘That sounds very interesting, darling.’
‘The thing is,’ Ella continued, realizing as she did that the spiel she used to explain the therapy to potential clients was leading her down a dangerous path, ‘horses are non-judgemental. They don’t care about your past, or what’s going on in your life today. It’s easier to open up around a horse and share your problems.’
Harry dropped a hand on the top of Hope’s head. ‘Right, my lovely, we should let Ella get on. I’m sure she’s got lots to do.’
‘Awww,’ said Hope, twisting away and casting a hopeful glance at Ella through her long lashes. ‘I don’t want to go yet.’
‘I tell you what,’ Ella found herself saying. ‘Why don’t we show your daddy what we do with Muffin?’
She had no idea why she’d said it, but she felt an overwhelming urge to prove herself, somehow, to Harry. To show him that what she did made a difference to people. And to apologize, somehow, for what had happened in the past. It would take more than that, but perhaps it might be a step towards showing him that she wasn’t the same person any more. He looked surprised at her offer, but Hope was predictably delighted. She stood back, allowing Hope to fasten the rope onto Muffin’s head collar and take the lead, walking beside him towards the indoor arena.
Finding Hope at Hillside Farm Page 20