Finding Hope at Hillside Farm

by Rachael Lucas

  How she’d actually contemplated a proper relationship with him was beyond her, especially now.

  ‘Is Nick still with that girl from the Hallowe’en do?’

  ‘Stop changing the subject.’ Lissa looked at her directly. She lifted the wine glass out of Ella’s hands and placed it firmly on the table.

  ‘I’ve known you long enough to know there’s more to this than you’re letting on.’

  ‘More to what?’

  ‘Stop stalling. What’s the story with you and Harry?’

  Ella felt her shoulders sagging, and she sat back in her chair. She picked up one of the sodden bar mats and started peeling it apart.

  ‘There is no story.’

  ‘Last I heard, you were getting on like a house on fire.’

  ‘Ish.’ She thought about the day at the sale.

  ‘And then?’

  She sighed. ‘And then someone mistook us for Hope’s parents, and he freaked out, and I felt awkward, and – here we are.’

  ‘And you’ve cleared the air, being a qualified counsellor and all that, yes?’ Lissa’s tone was teasing.

  ‘No.’ She shifted in her chair. It was as simple – and difficult – as a short conversation, and yet Harry’s frosty demeanour when she’d dropped him off at the cottage had made it impossible.

  ‘That was a bit awks the other week, wasn’t it? How about we pretend it never happened and carry on getting reacquainted?’ Lissa did a terrible impression of Ella’s English accent.

  ‘That would be the logical solution, yes.’

  They both laughed. Logical solutions were lovely in theory, but real life didn’t work out quite like that.

  ‘Hello, my lovely, how’s it going?’

  Bron’s face on the laptop screen looked bronzed, about ten years younger, and happier than Ella had seen her in – well, forever.

  ‘Good, thanks. But how about you? You look like you’ve gone native.’

  ‘I love it here!’ Bron beamed. ‘Who knew the lack of responsibility could be so good for a person?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know.’ Ella pulled a face. ‘I’m in the middle of sorting out an apprenticeship for Charlotte so we can arrange training, I’ve got paperwork for this PRU application coming out of my ears, and Lissa’s got me roped in to this running thing in my spare time.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound like you have much spare time,’ Bron chuckled.

  ‘It’s pretty thin on the ground.’

  ‘How’s Sweetbriar doing?’

  ‘Grumpy.’

  ‘Good to know. I’d be worried if she was anything but.’

  ‘She’s not due for another four weeks, and she’s so bad-tempered I daren’t let anyone near her. I’ve put her in the foaling box round the back of the yard, just in case she tries to take a bite out of any unsuspecting clients.’

  ‘How’s your littlest client coming along?’

  Ella could see her own face in the corner of the screen lifting with animation when she talked about Hope. ‘Really well. I can’t believe the difference in her. She’s loving school, she’s chatty, she’s made a whole gang of little friends –’

  ‘And her dad?’ Bron cocked her head sideways, knowingly.

  ‘He’s fine.’

  ‘I’m not taking that from you. Don’t flannel me with fine.’

  ‘He’s – I’m – well, it’s a bit weird.’

  ‘Darling, what do you mean by weird?’

  Ella told her the whole saga, explaining what had happened at the farm sale, and telling her that since then Harry had kept a low profile.

  ‘It’s as if he remembered everything, and –’

  ‘Realized he’d been burned once?’

  ‘Exactly. And I feel shitty because I wish we had the chance to sit down and talk about what happened, and I could tell him it made me feel uncomfortable too.’

  ‘It’s such a tiny little thing. Funny what triggers people, isn’t it?’

  Ella nodded mutely.

  ‘You know, the thing is, darling, sometimes people come into our lives for a reason – and go back out again.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘They’re going back to Norfolk, though, aren’t they?’

  ‘I think so.’

  The thought of it made Ella feel faintly sick. She said her goodbyes to Bron and sat in the kitchen for a long time, alone, thinking. She’d made the rookie mistake of tangling up the personal and professional strands of her life, and now she was paying the price.

  ‘Bloody hell, you weren’t joking when you said you’d been working at it.’ Lissa was doubled over, head between her legs. ‘I’ve got a stitch.’

  Ella stood up with her hands on her hips and felt her heart thudding against her ribcage. Running had turned into an addiction. She loved the feeling of pushing herself, and the strength growing in her legs as a result of challenging herself to make it to the top of the hill without stopping.

  ‘I never thought I’d see the day.’ Lissa stood up, wiped the sweat off her forehead.

  They stood in companionable, exhausted silence on the brow of the hill, looking across the valley. It was early on a Saturday morning, and a haze of mist hung over the village. Smoke lazed from the chimneypots of the houses. It was an idyllic scene.

  ‘Can you imagine leaving all this?’

  Lissa shook her head, swigging from her water bottle at the same time. She wiped her mouth. ‘You’re not trying to tell me something?’

  ‘No. Just thinking about Bron on the other side of the world, and Jenny and Hope and –’ She tailed off.

  ‘And?’ Lissa’s eyebrows arched upwards.

  ‘When they applied for Hope’s school place, did they say it was only temporary?’

  ‘It doesn’t work like that. You’re either in, or you’re out. They’ll have to reapply for her place when they go back to wherever it was they’re from – Suffolk, was it?’

  ‘Norfolk.’

  ‘That’s it.’ Lissa stretched her arms over her head, then lifted a foot to stretch her quads, putting a hand on Ella for balance. ‘Why d’you ask?’

  ‘Just wondering.’

  ‘You’ve been spending quite a bit of time with them, haven’t you? I mean, above and beyond work stuff?’

  ‘They’re neighbours. And Hope loves spending time with the horses, and Charlotte. She’s making such good progress.’ Ella smiled, remembering Hope’s last visit and how she’d happily climbed on Echo, all her previous fears forgotten.

  ‘And Jenny probably enjoys the company, right?’ Lissa’s tone was arch.

  They started walking back down the hill.

  ‘I don’t suppose it’s been a hardship spending time with your good-looking ex, either.’

  ‘I’ve not seen him for ages. Besides, there’s nothing going on there.’

  ‘Didn’t say there was.’ Lissa nudged her, and broke into a jog. ‘Come on, last one back’s buying the drinks next time we go out.’

  Ella was grateful for the peace in the yard that afternoon. She pottered around, tidying up, and spent a bit of time giving the increasingly pregnant and grumpy Sweetbriar some attention, brushing out her mane and tail until they shone like pale golden silk threads, and adding an extra layer of straw to her bedding to make sure she was comfortable when she lay down to rest her legs, tired from the extra weight she was carrying.

  Then she grabbed a bag and her keys, and nipped into the village.

  ‘All right, stranger?’

  A hand on her shoulder as she withdrew money from the cash machine made her jump. She spun round to discover Nick standing there, the familiar twinkle in his eye.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Haven’t seen you for ages. You been avoiding me?’

  Ella shook her head. ‘No, just busy.’

  ‘I hear you’ve got a contract to work with the kids from Greenhill School?’

  It wasn’t possible to sneeze in this village without someone ten minutes later reporting you’d been rushed to hospital with flu. ‘Who
told you?’

  ‘Little bird. Well, Lissa actually.’

  Bloody hell, Lissa was such a blabbermouth sometimes.

  ‘I’ve done some work with kids that have come out of there myself. My last apprentice – remember Joe? He came from Greenhill.’

  She nodded, remembering a slight, wiry boy who’d helped Nick out for while a couple of years back.

  ‘Anyway,’ he said, giving a nod. ‘Just wanted to say I reckon you’ll be perfect for it. Hope you get it sorted.’

  He gave her a slightly awkward pat on the arm, and ducked his head. ‘Don’t be a stranger, all right?’

  Ella laughed. ‘Hardly likely. I’ve got you booked in for three weeks’ time to do their feet.’

  ‘Cool. See ya.’

  Nick raised a hand and strode off. She stood watching him make his way down the high street. The thing about living in Llani was that you had to accept that whatever – or whoever – happened, you were going to be bumping into the same people for the rest of your life. There was no hiding from the mistakes you made, or the bad decisions you might choose on a night out.

  The delivery truck parked beside her pulled away and she turned, hitching her bag up on her shoulder as she went into the post office.

  ‘Hello, my love, what can I get you?’

  ‘I need some of those big A4 envelopes.’

  ‘Have a look on the shelf over there.’ Alan pointed to the jumble of things stacked up underneath the newspaper stand in the little post office shop. She moved a bag of elastic bands, several battered boxes of stickers, and a brightly coloured pre-school magazine that had fallen down from the rack.

  ‘You looking forward to this fun run?’ Alan rang up the price on the till. It gave her a flutter of nerves and excitement every time she thought about it.

  ‘You know what –’ Ella smiled, handing over a ten pound note. ‘I am. Weird as it might sound, I am.’

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Ella

  Hope was so keen to learn more that Ella had softened after the girl’s last therapy session and said that she could come up and have a ride on Muffin.

  ‘It’s not strictly my remit,’ she explained to Jenny, ‘But if you don’t mind, Muffin is as bombproof as they come, and Charlotte’s more than capable of taking them round the school on a lead rein.’

  ‘I don’t mind at all,’ Jenny had smiled, putting a hand on Ella’s arm. ‘You’ve worked wonders with her. With all of us, in a funny sort of way.’

  ‘Bring her up tomorrow,’ Ella said, touched. ‘I’ve got an hour and a half free between clients. We can fit in a mini riding lesson.’ Hope was the first child she’d worked with, having always been adamant that she only wanted to work with adults. Her time with the little girl had changed all that, and she couldn’t wait to get involved with helping the children from Greenhill School. She was so pleased at the difference Hope’s therapy had made. That was the only reason, she told herself firmly. Nothing whatsoever to do with Harry, or how he looked when he saw his daughter’s growing confidence.

  Nothing at all.

  ‘Ready?’

  Hope nodded. She was sitting up very tall in the saddle, her body encased in a protective vest, helmet fastened securely. She was wearing a pair of brand-new purple jodhpurs and a dinky pair of riding boots.

  Ella had the long rein clipped to the noseband of Muffin’s bridle. It meant the pony could trot around in circles, and Hope could enjoy the sensation of being in control, but with someone on the end of the rein in case anything went wrong. Not that anything could go wrong with the stolid little pony underneath her.

  ‘Are you absolutely sure you don’t mind me leaving her here?’

  Lou was in bed with a cold, and none of them relished the prospect of telling Hope her ride was going to be put on hold. It was now, or next weekend – and Ella remembered being eight well enough to know that a week felt like a lifetime.

  ‘I’d call it man flu,’ Jenny confessed, jingling her car keys, ‘But after his heart scares, I daren’t make a joke.’ It was a sign that she’d unwound in the last couple of months that she was able to even attempt to crack a joke about anything to do with Lou’s health.

  ‘You get to the chemist before it closes. I promise you, she’ll be absolutely fine.’

  Ella stood back and watched Charlotte as she encouraged Hope to practise her rising trot on Muffin, keeping her hands steady on the reins and her back nice and straight. She had a lovely, natural position.

  Hopefully when they headed back to Norfolk, Hope could keep riding. Jenny had confessed, while Hope and Charlotte were tacking up Muffin, that she secretly half wished they could stay in the area. ‘Even Lou has made some friends here, and he’s so much more relaxed than he used to be,’ she’d sighed.

  Ella didn’t ask how Harry felt about it, and Jenny didn’t offer. He was nothing to do with her, and their brief friendship had fizzled out. It wasn’t surprising, really. What had happened in the past was hard to get over. She’d hoped privately that maybe they might be able to build some bridges, but – she closed her eyes, remembering the farm sale – it seemed that wasn’t going to happen. She had to accept that.

  ‘I’ll take over in two seconds,’ Ella said. ‘Just want to move this rug. I’m putting a load of stuff in to get repaired, and this has been on my list for blooming months.’

  The stable rug with a broken strap had been hanging over the edge of the school for so long that it was covered with a layer of dust. Ella picked it up and shook it. Something large and buzzing flew out from underneath and she dropped it, shuddering.

  ‘Ugh.’

  ‘What is it?’ Charlotte called over.

  ‘Bumblebee or something.’

  It happened in seconds. Ella looked up and Muffin gave a squeal, kicking out a back leg as he jumped sideways. Hope almost slid off the saddle and Charlotte grabbed her thigh, steadying her. And then Muffin gave a snort and leapt up as if he’d had an electric shock. Hope was catapulted out of the saddle and crashed to the floor in a heap, one leg bent awkwardly beneath her body.

  Hope.

  Ella dashed through the gate and sprinted across to the two girls. Hope was white-faced and silent. Charlotte was holding Muffin, looking stricken. The pony was wild-eyed, his nostrils flaring pink and his flanks heaving.

  ‘I don’t know what happened.’

  ‘It wasn’t Muffin’s fault,’ Hope said in a small voice.

  Ella dropped to her knees and reached out a hand to reassure her. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘I don’t know. We were only walking. Something happened and Muffin spun around and jumped and Hope fell off and –’ Charlotte started to cry.

  Ella looked at Hope’s pain-blanched face. ‘Where does it hurt, my lovely?’

  ‘My leg is sore.’

  And Ella noticed then that the leg underneath her was lying at an unnatural angle. She felt bile rising to her mouth and put a hand up, shocked. Adrenalin started pumping through her body. She could feel her heart racing, but she had to keep calm. She pulled off her puffa jacket and laid it over Hope.

  ‘You’re being very brave,’ Ella told Hope, taking her hand. Hope’s eyes were huge. She bit her lip and nodded. Ella noticed a tear pooling in the corner of her eye. It spilled over and trickled over her nose and down to the ground.

  ‘It wasn’t Muffin’s fault,’ she repeated.

  ‘Oh, darling.’ Ella squeezed her hand. ‘I’m going to call an ambulance. Charlotte, can you just –’

  Charlotte looked from Hope to Muffin and back.

  ‘He’s fine. I’ll tie him here.’ Ella took the reins and looped them through one of the rings on the wall.

  This was why they still had a phone installed in the school, as well as one on the yard, and in the house. She spoke quickly, explaining the situation.

  ‘We’ll be with you as soon as possible,’ said the call handler, calmly.

  Ella puffed out a breath and bit her lip. No sign of Jenny. She picked up
her mobile and keyed the numbers in on the landline. No response – just the three short beeps that indicated no signal.

  She ran back and dropped down to her knees beside Hope. ‘Don’t worry, my love. The ambulance will be here in a moment and when they come they’ll give you something to stop it hurting.’

  Hope closed her eyes for a moment. She was being incredibly brave.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  Jenny dropped her bag as she caught sight of Hope lying on the ground. She ran across the school and flung herself on the floor, almost knocking Ella out of the way. ‘Darling, are you OK? Are you hurt? What happened to you?’

  Ella shifted position, allowing Jenny to take her place, cradling Hope’s head.

  ‘We’re not sure.’

  ‘What do you mean not sure? Did she fall off?’ Jenny’s eyes were drawn to Hope’s leg and she turned to Ella, eyes steely. ‘How did she get hurt?’

  ‘I’ll take Muffin back to the stable,’ said Charlotte, looking at the floor. She scuttled off and took him by the bridle, leading him slowly out of sight.

  ‘Hello?’

  Just at that moment, a green-clad paramedic popped his head around the door of the school. ‘What have we here?’

  ‘My granddaughter has been injured. She needs help.’

  ‘That’s what we’re here for,’ said the paramedic. ‘Come on, Ali, we’ve got an injured young rider in here.’

  Hope caught Ella’s eye and tried to smile.

  ‘Hello there, young lady.’ The paramedic put his bag down on the soft surface of the school. ‘What have you been up to?’

  ‘It wasn’t Muffin’s fault,’ Hope said again, her little face tight with pain.

  ‘Usually isn’t.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Have you been trying acrobatics on horseback?’

  They administered a painkiller and got Hope onto a stretcher. She looked like a broken little bird as they carried her out and to the doors of the ambulance.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get her to hospital and have her back on horseback in no time.’

  Hope smiled drowsily at this.

  ‘OK, who’s coming for a ride?’

  ‘I’m her grandmother.’ Jenny stood with a protective hand on Hope’s arm.