The Country Village Christmas Show

by Cathy Lake

  ‘Nothing wrong with giving your liver and your bank balance a break.’ Clare tucked her hands into her pockets.

  ‘How was your day, Martin?’ Jenny gave him a kiss and he gazed at her adoringly, his big arm around her waist. They still made such a handsome couple, him with his height and broad shoulders, his bald head shadowed with stubble where the hair he had left was growing through. He’d always kept it short, even when they were teens, telling Clare once that he hated how wavy it was, but now it seemed that it had receded and thinned out enough for him to decide to shave it off altogether. He had a well-shaped head and a handsome face with a strong square jaw, so he could get away with it. If Jason had ever gone completely bald, Clare suspected he’d have looked a bit like a fence post, especially as he’d got older, because his chin had seemed to become one with his neck.

  ‘It was busy, tiring, but I’m nearly done, so it’s all good. How was work?’

  ‘Oh . . .’ Jenny stepped out of his embrace and got a glass from a cupboard then filled it with water. ‘I came home. I wasn’t feeling well.’

  ‘Again?’ His brows furrowed and Clare saw worry cross his face, his knuckles whiten as his fingers tightened around the beer bottle.

  ‘It’s fine. Nothing to worry about.’ Jenny sipped her water.

  ‘Perhaps you’d better make a GP appointment. What do you think, Clare? Jen hasn’t been feeling great lately and she doesn’t know why, can’t pinpoint anything, so a trip to the doc might be best.’

  ‘Probably a good idea.’ Clare’s gaze slid from Martin to Jenny. ‘Right, I should be going. I need to get back for Mum and Kyle.’

  ‘You’re welcome to stay for dinner,’ Martin said. ‘Be great to catch up, Clare. I know you’ve been back for a few weeks, but this is the first time I’ve seen you properly. We’ve missed you over the years.’

  ‘I missed you both too.’

  ‘And I was sorry to hear about you and Jason. His loss, I say.’

  ‘Thanks, but it really was for the best.’

  ‘We could order a takeaway?’ he suggested. ‘Chinese or Indian.’

  Clare saw Jenny’s face blanche. ‘Another time, perhaps? I really do have to get going.’

  Martin nodded. ‘No problem. I need to shower and wash the day away, then I think I just spotted a tasty salad in the fridge.’

  ‘You did. Clare made it for us.’

  ‘Thanks, Clare.’ He smiled, looking slightly bemused. ‘You meals on wheels now?’

  ‘No, Jen went to have a bath, so I just threw a salad together. It was nothing, really. There’s also salmon you can have with it.’

  ‘Great.’ Clare suddenly felt sorry for Martin. He looked like he wanted a takeaway or something stodgy after a day’s work, not a healthy salmon salad, but he was perfectly capable of looking after himself. She just hoped Jenny wouldn’t feel the need to make something else for him because she clearly needed to rest.

  ‘We’ll see you soon then, Clare?’ Martin asked.

  ‘You will.’

  He left the room, beer in hand, and soon she heard his heavy tread on the stairs.

  ‘I’m going to tell him after we’ve eaten.’ Jenny placed her hands on her hips as if steeling herself. ‘It needs to be shared now. Thanks so much for today.’

  ‘Let me know how it goes and ring if you need me. I haven’t got anything planned.’

  Clare thought of Sam who would be at the pub right now, the quiz well underway, the chair he might have saved for her empty at his side. She felt bad for letting him down, but he’d be fine, Magnus would be with him.

  ‘I will.’

  Jenny walked her to the door and Clare pushed her arms into her coat and zipped it up.

  ‘Try to eat, won’t you?’

  Jenny nodded. ‘I promise.’

  Clare let herself out into the evening air. As she walked away, she sent out a wish to the universe to let Jenny and Martin work things through. They would face challenges as a result of this, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle. And Clare would be there for Jenny now, just as she had always, secretly, longed to be.

  Chapter 19

  The next morning, Clare took Goliath along their usual woodland walk, reaching the crossroads where she’d first bumped into Sam. She stood there for a moment, gazing around her at the trees, the small sign that read Little Bramble and then the one that led to her left, towards a place she used to visit often: Old Oak Stables.

  She’d wanted to go there since her return, but something had held her back. Of course, she’d been quite busy, but as well as that there had been a sense of anxiety about returning to a place she had loved so much growing up. She had initially gone to the stables to learn to ride when she was ten, and had spent practically every Saturday morning there until she’d gone off to university. She’d visited a few times during the holidays, but when she’d got together with Jason, she’d stopped going altogether. Jason hadn’t been keen on horses, so Clare had put that part of herself away, sacrificed it for her marriage, and been content to do so because she believed that everybody made compromises when they fell in love. But it had been a big sacrifice for her because she loved horses: riding them, caring for them . . . and it had been twenty-six years since she’d gone to Old Oak Stables. Could she go back?

  ‘Come on, Goliath,’ she said, deciding. ‘Let’s go this way for a change.’

  They turned left and made their way along the narrow lane that led beneath a canopy of tree branches. In the summer months, this canopy would be thick with leaves, creating a cool dark tunnel, but in the winter the bare tree branches that grew up from each side and met above the path kept most of the light from reaching the ground. Her feet slid on the mud and she did her best to guide Goliath away from the worst patches, knowing that he’d have to have his feet washed when they went home.

  When they emerged at the end of the tunnel, Clare followed the path as it veered to the left. The stables could be accessed via a road, but she had always walked there this way, so it was as instinctive as finding her way home. She reached a gate at the bottom of the lane and let herself and Goliath through it, then crossed the field towards the stables. She could see them now, two long narrow buildings that housed the horses and a larger building that was used for lessons when the weather was too bad to ride outdoors.

  Beyond the stables was a large farmhouse where the owner, Georgia Baker, had lived with her husband and three daughters. The eldest, Verity, had been nine years younger than Clare and she’d followed Clare around the stables whenever she went there, asking her endless questions about herself and about the world in general. She’d been a sweet girl with a mass of ginger curls, lots of cute freckles and the most enchanting eyes – one blue and one green. Verity’s sisters had been much younger. Bonnie was five years younger than Verity and the other, Fran, was seven years. As Clare neared the stable block, she realised that Verity would be thirty-six now and her sisters in their late twenties and early thirties. That thought made her mouth dry up. A lot of time had passed since she’d last been here and she wasn’t sure if they still owned the place, let alone if they would recognise her.

  The smell of horses hit her then, a combination of manure, leather, hay and wood chippings that was so familiar it brought a lump to her throat. The hours she had spent here, the days mucking out the stables, grooming the horses, riding across the fields had been a special part of her youth. She had never wanted to ride competitively, never longed to be a part of the show jumping world, but had enjoyed spending time with the horses and trekking around the countryside, whether alone or with Jenny.

  A whinny from the stables made Goliath’s ears prick up and Clare tightened her grip on his lead. She wasn’t sure if he would be all right around horses but she decided to see how he went.

  Taking a deep breath, she opened the gate and she and Goliath walked through it, then closed it behind them. Goliath’s nose was wriggling madly and she knew that the smells would be even stronger for him. Sh
e decided to head towards the house to see if she could find anyone, but just then one of the stable doors opened and a woman emerged with a saddle over her arm. Wearing beige jodhpurs, black knee-high riding boots and a checked shirt with a padded gilet, she looked as if she probably worked there. Her hair was covered by a navy scarf.

  ‘Hello, can I help you?’ the woman asked when she spotted Clare.

  ‘Yes, actually. I was wondering if the Bakers still own this place.’ Clare felt Goliath moving forwards as the lead tightened around her hand.

  ‘We do indeed.’ The woman frowned. ‘Do I know you?’

  ‘I think you might.’ As Clare approached her, she saw the different coloured eyes. ‘Verity?’

  ‘Yes.’ Verity’s eyes widened. ‘You’re not Clare Hughes, are you?’

  They both burst into laughter.

  ‘Oh my goodness, how’d you recognise me?’ Clare placed a hand to her chest. ‘I must look so different now. The last time I came here was the summer after my first year at university, when I was just nineteen.’

  ‘You’ve barely changed at all,’ Verity said, smiling ‘and your hair is lighter but you’re exactly how I remember you. How are you, Clare?’

  ‘I’m good, thanks. What about you?’

  Verity shrugged. ‘Not too bad considering the fact that I’m divorced with three kids under eleven. We live at the house now,’ she gestured over her shoulder at the farmhouse, ‘because I’ve taken over with Mum being poorly.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Clare shook her head.

  ‘She’s better than she was this time last year.’ Verity shook her head. ‘Cancer. Bloody disease. I blame the stress of Dad dying two years ago, though. I think it weakened her.’

  ‘You lost your dad, Verity? I am so sorry.’

  Verity waved a hand. ‘Dad was a heavy smoker, as you might remember? We told him and told him to quit smoking, but he wouldn’t listen and in the end, he had a massive stroke. He was fifteen years older than mum, but they doted on each other and she’s been lost without him.’

  ‘I can imagine.’ Clare found her hand moving over Goliath’s back, seeking comfort from his warmth and soft fur.

  ‘Mum’s in remission, thank goodness, and it hasn’t all been bad news, I promise.’ Verity tucked a few strands of red hair back under her headscarf. ‘You look wonderful, though, Clare. How’s life treating you? Are you just visiting or back living in the village?’

  ‘Well, like you, I’m divorced, and I’ve come back to stay with Mum for a while. It was only meant to be a few weeks initially, but it looks as though I’m staying until the New Year and then . . . well, I’m not sure. I need to look for work –’

  Verity held up a hand. ‘Really? You need a job?’

  Clare nodded slowly.

  ‘I’m in desperate need of someone reliable to come and help out here. One of my stable hands is finishing for maternity leave in February and I’ve advertised the vacancy, but had no takers. I was hoping to get someone local who’d be happy with three days a week, but it seems the local youth all want to move away or work on their computers being . . . what do they call it? . . . social influencers?’

  ‘Right. Yes.’

  ‘If you do stay, how would you feel about doing three days a week here?’

  Clare swallowed her surprise. Working at a stables? With horses? Staying in Little Bramble indefinitely . . .

  ‘No pressure at all!’ Verity shook her head. ‘I mean, I haven’t even asked if you still ride. Do you?’

  ‘I haven’t ridden in years but I’ve missed it. Really missed it.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure it’s like riding a bike.’ Verity shifted the saddle to her other arm. ‘You’re very welcome to come out with me any time you like. We’re still running lessons and treks through the winter months, but we’re a lot quieter at the moment. It usually picks up in the spring when the weather improves. We get requests for a lot of those company team bonding days when they bring their employees from London for pub treks and outdoor mindfulness days. It’s great for business.’

  ‘It sounds amazing,’ Clare said, imagining how busy it could be here.

  ‘How long has it been since you’ve actually been near a horse?’

  ‘Twenty-six years!’

  ‘Come with me.’

  Verity set the saddle on a bench in the centre of the yard, then returned to the stable she’d just emerged from and beckoned to Clare.

  ‘Oh, what about Goliath?’

  ‘Doreen is fine with dogs. Is he OK with horses?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Clare looked at Goliath, but he seemed calm, so she followed Verity to the stable door. There was a hook on the wall near the door so she looped Goliath’s lead around it, then stroked his head. ‘I won’t be long.’

  Inside the stable she blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. Verity was standing next to a mare, which was munching hay from a trough attached to the wall. The stable smelt of clean hay and warm animal and Clare inhaled the aroma, holding it to her like a treasured memory.

  ‘This is Doreen. She’s one of our older, calmer mares and she’s a special one.’ Verity ran a hand over Doreen’s head and Clare did the same, feeling the smooth black hair beneath her palm, the movement of Doreen’s head as she munched at her food and then the thicker, coarser hair of her mane, which was flecked with white.

  Clare stepped closer to the horse, smoothing her hands over her back, her flanks, admiring the muscles beneath her skin, the smooth curves of her back and belly. She rested her forehead against Doreen’s neck and closed her eyes as tears started to fall, just as she used to do when she was younger, and a sense of calm swept over her. Horses were beautiful, powerful creatures, but they could also be incredibly gentle, friendly and soothing to be around.

  ‘You want some time here?’ Verity asked, and Clare opened her eyes and stepped back. ‘I’ve got some chores to do but you’re welcome to stay around for as long as you like. You can decide if you’d like to come join the team. We’re all very friendly and it would be great to have someone like you who loves horses and knows the layout here.’

  ‘I’ve missed this.’ Clare wiped at her eyes with the back of a hand. ‘Now that I’m back here, I can’t believe that I haven’t been around horses for so long. How could I have let that happen?’

  ‘We all change to suit other people.’ Verity wrinkled her nose. ‘Hell, I did to suit my ex. He did to suit me. It’s relationships, isn’t it? You have to compromise a certain amount or it would never work. Luckily, I didn’t give up too much of myself and I had this place to come back to. The kids love it here and they’re a tonic for Mum to have around, especially seeing as how Bonnie and Fran live so far away.’

  ‘They left?’

  ‘Yeah. Bonnie’s in Scotland and Fran’s in Canada. I was the only one who stayed local, but now I’m actually back under the same roof as my mum.’

  Clare smiled. ‘Like me.’

  ‘It’s good to have somewhere to run to, though, right? Plus, the difference now is that Mum needs me to help her out.’

  ‘I know that feeling.’

  ‘Your mum OK? I see her sometimes in the village, but we’re so busy here that I don’t get up there as often as I used to. With three kids who want feeding, lifts and the school run, along with general running of the business, I don’t get time for much else.’

  ‘Yes, she’s all right, thank you. And I can imagine exactly how busy you are.’

  ‘Anyway, do you want to hang around for a bit?’

  Clare thought of how wonderful it would be to spend the day here, but then she remembered Goliath.

  ‘I’d better get back because of the dog – but can I have a think about the job?’

  ‘Of course you can.’ Verity placed a hand on Clare’s arm. ‘Let’s swap numbers, then you can let me know either way. It would be amazing to have you join us, but I understand if it’s not the type of thing you want. I’ll send the link to the job advert too, so
you have more info about the hours, pay and so on, and you can think about it in your own time. But I can see that you’ve still got an affinity with horses.’ Verity grinned and gestured behind Clare.

  Turning around, she found Doreen’s head up close to her and then nudging her arm.

  ‘She likes you.’

  ‘I like her too.’

  Clare pressed a kiss to the white star on Doreen’s head, then leant closer and whispered in her ear, ‘I’ll be back.’

  Outside, she found Goliath sitting like a statue, watching as a group of riders entered the yard, the horses’ hooves clip-clopping across the cobbles as they snorted and whinnied and shook their heads.

  ‘You ready to go home, boy?’ Clare asked him, and he stood up and wagged his tail. She swapped numbers with Verity, then her mobile buzzed as Verity sent her the link to the job advert.

  ‘Thank you for this,’ Clare said. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘Great! Speak soon.’ Verity picked up the saddle from the bench and headed towards the group of riders who’d just come in and Clare led Goliath out of the stable yard and back towards the gate they’d come through.

  As she walked home, she smiled, thinking about how glad she was that she’d gone to the stables and seen Verity again. She’d told her she’d think about the job and she would – and Verity would surely need to give her some sort of interview – but she had a feeling she already knew what her answer would be.

  And that thought was very exciting indeed.

  Alyssa hadn’t been back all weekend. Sam had arrived home after the pub quiz on Friday and quickly checked to see if she’d eaten the lasagne he’d left in the fridge, but it had remained untouched. On the Saturday he’d got up early to walk Scout, then he’d gone to the supermarket to stock up on some essentials, and stopped at the farm shop, purchasing some of the little fairy cakes topped with buttercream that Alyssa liked. But Saturday and Sunday had passed and there had been no sign of his sister. He’d sent a text on Saturday evening, just to make sure she was OK, because he’d started imagining her trapped in a supermarket toilet cubicle where the door had jammed, or on the floor of the garage conversion, unable to call for help. He hadn’t wanted to go into the garage because it was her space and she was entitled to her privacy, and he hadn’t phoned her in case she didn’t want to speak to him. However, she had replied to his text, telling him she was fine, but not when she’d be back.