by Georgia Rose
“Bit short on numbers so you’ve got the boss rolling up his sleeves today,” Carlton explained light-heartedly while Trent smiled briefly, his serious countenance momentarily lifted, before going to the barn to open the doors. Porter drove in shortly after, turning the lorry in the yard and reversing up to the entrance of the barn. He leapt out, introducing himself and another of the farm hands, who had come to help. I knew from the discussions in the pub that Porter was married with children and lived in Melton. He was broad-shouldered with floppy blond hair and had the sort of tan that comes from working outdoors all the time. He let down the back ramp of the lorry and pulled down the first few bales to make some room, then he climbed up and started throwing them down the ramp. The rest of us picking them up and stacking them in the corner of the barn. We had the straw bales on this load, the hay was coming later.
I’d forgotten how hard this was on the hands and could feel mine becoming sore. Years in an office had done this to me; no doubt a few months in this job would harden me up again but right now I was feeling it. When the lorry was about half-unloaded we had a short break and Trent disappeared, presumably to the pickup, coming back carrying a pair of gloves, reinforced across the palm and fingers, which he handed to me.
“Here, put these on.”
“I’m fine really, thanks, you can use them,” I replied, trying to give them back to him.
“Just do it,” he said, more forcibly as he glared at me. Then he turned and went back to the lorry to carry on, as did Carlton, but not until he’d given me a big smile and a wink behind Trent’s back. I shook my head, pulled on the gloves and went to join them. When we’d finished the lorry left and was due to return shortly with the hay, so I invited Trent and Carlton over to the cottage for a drink, pouring them glasses of juice which disappeared rapidly and which I refilled.
“I have a feed delivery coming tomorrow and wondered if I needed to arrange anything with regard to them being able to get on the estate,” I asked Trent.
“The feed company knows to arrive through the farm so there should be no problem there, and they know where to deliver to. I’ve informed them they need to offload the feed for you into the barn so it should all be sorted.”
“Oh…okay, thanks,” I replied, a little surprised he’d even known I’d already put in an order, and I couldn’t help wondering if there was anything that he wasn’t on top of already.
Trent then announced that Carlton would be my backup in the yard whenever I had any time off. I’d not really thought long-term on this issue, and hadn’t considered there might be times when I’d need a day off. I’d spent so long just working on my day-to-day survival, I’d forgotten the need to plan for resilience and this was now brought home to me.
Carlton apparently had the most experience around horses and also rode, so if necessary could take over the exercising. I didn’t want that level of involvement from him so I retaliated, stating that while it wouldn’t be required I’d set up the yard to work smoothly just in case, making it clear it would only be as a last resort. Carlton grinned at me throughout my exchange with Trent over this, which didn’t help as I sensed Trent’s tension increasing the more Carlton appeared to enjoy the situation. Fortunately, we soon heard the lorry return so headed out to unload the hay, which came as a welcome relief to the atmosphere that had been building in my kitchen.
I had a few things I needed to get done before the horses arrived, so after the feed lorry had delivered the next day I grabbed my keys and wallet to set off on a shopping spree. As I left the cottage I found Stanton cutting the grass in my back garden. He introduced me to Oscar Peters who was hard at work tidying up the front. I had managed to keep watering the hanging baskets, so felt reasonably proud that my efforts had kept them alive.
I set off, calling in at a stationery store first to buy various essential bits and pieces for organising the yard so it could continue to run efficiently should I ever be absent.
I then went to the country store and saddlery which was where the serious shopping occurred. Going round the country store section first, and bearing in mind I may occasionally have assistance in the yard, I bought two of everything, from wheelbarrows to forks and brushes. I also added a couple of fire extinguishers which were an essential in any yard. Turning my attention to the saddlery section I bought four different coloured grooming kits, head collars, lead ropes, an assortment of buckets, as well as racks and hooks for the tack and everything that would be needed to clean that. I’d have to see what the horses arrived with by way of rugs and then replace or replenish those as necessary.
Lastly, I went through to the clothing section and bought everything needed to kit myself out for riding, whatever the weather. By the end of this spending frenzy I was confident I had everything I needed to get me started and hoped Cavendish wouldn’t be too shocked by my profligacy.
On my way back I passed the main gate, carrying on round the estate. Eventually I came to another entrance which led into the farm yard and, unlike the main entrance with its imposing wrought-iron gates, this one had metal five-barred gates which stood open, pinned back to the surrounding buildings, looking like they spent most of their time like that. I drove in to see if I could fill up with fuel and saw Porter, who waved and changed direction to start walking towards me. He showed me where to fill up and while I was doing that he called out to see who was around. An athletic-looking woman came out of a nearby barn and he introduced her as Georgina Summers. We had a quick chat while I filled the pickup and I ascertained she worked with the chickens, pigs and sheep mainly, but also helped out with the arable when needed. I’d learned from Porter that the farm was mixed and while it was mostly arable it also ran a productive beef herd and a flock of sheep as well as a small number of pigs and chickens to serve the estate. There was also a herd of deer, which I was still yet to see, kept on the parkland. Letting Porter and Summers get back to work I drove straight through the farm and headed to the stables. I’d brought a toolkit with me and taking this over to the yard I drilled holes into the walls of the tack room in order to fix the saddle racks and bridle hooks in place. Making sure everything else was in its rightful place I locked up. The yard was now as ready as it could be for its new arrivals.
That evening I opened the bottle of Pinotage Trent had chosen for me. He was right, much as I hated to admit it, I did like it.
Now the yard was ready I went to investigate the gym facilities. I’d hoped that by going early afternoon the rest of the staff would be gainfully employed elsewhere, and that proved to be the case, the gym being deserted when I entered. It was set up in one huge room; the walls and ceiling were painted white and the floor was covered in a laminated wood – it looked like any commercial gym. There were three or four sets of each type of equipment, which gave me an indication as to how busy it must be at times.
I picked out the machines I wanted to use, knowing that between them they’d give me a whole body workout, then put together a routine I knew I could stick to. When I came to think about it while I was exercising, it was obvious that everyone on the estate was encouraged to use the gym, and that all were apparently keen to make the most of the opportunity. It had not gone unnoticed how fit and athletic everyone was here and I decided I was going to have to put in some hours to get myself to the same level of fitness.
I’d noticed a punch bag hanging in the corner of the gym so I wandered over to that, thinking I might finish off with a few kicks. The bag, which looked like new, hung down on a chain from the ceiling then was pinned to the floor by another chain. On the ground in the corner was a box with some gloves in it, so I pulled a pair on and started warming up with a few punches. It was good to be back doing this; with all the activity in the last few weeks before I moved here I hadn’t been going to my kickboxing classes. After a few minutes I slipped off my trainers and socks and started to practise a few kicks. However, after all the exercise I’d already done it was not long before my legs were burning with the build-up of
lactic acid. At that point, deciding I’d probably done enough for that session I put the gloves back, pulled my socks and trainers on, and left.
As I was walking back Cavendish called to let me know the horses would be arriving early the following week, which lifted my spirits even further from the serotonin-induced high they were already on from the exercise. As the call ended and I looked up from my phone I realised Trent had pulled up beside me; his window was open and his face was serious. When wasn’t it?
“I see you’ve been wielding a drill,” he opened, accusingly.
“Yes…why shouldn’t I?” I questioned, wondering what could possibly be wrong with that.
“You could’ve asked one of us to do it. Why do you have to do everything?” He sounded irritated.
“Because I’m more than capable and I really don’t need to keep getting someone else in to do these things for me. I don’t know why you have to be so cross with me all the time,” I retaliated, pausing for a moment then deciding I might as well air my concern; at least then I’d know if it was justified. “I know that you didn’t want me to have this job, but I’m here now so you’re just going to have to get used to it.”
“Who told you that?” Trent questioned sternly, his eyes narrowing as he frowned.
“Cavendish, when I came for the interview.”
Trent’s frown deepened as he then spoke quietly: “Did he now…That was a little indiscreet. He was correct though, I’d have preferred to have employed a man in this position. I really do not need another woman to look after.”
I retorted indignantly, “You don’t have to look after me. I’m more than capable of looking after myself.”
He looked at me steadily, his eyes widening slightly in their challenge, before saying dryly, “Then you’ll be the first woman I’ve come across that is.”
I gasped in disbelief, my eyebrows rising in astonishment as my mouth started to open but I’d been left speechless and nothing came out. Being unable to come up with a response I stared at him, seeing a darkening in his eyes at my reaction, his lips parting as if he was about to follow this up with some other ludicrous statement, but he must have thought better of it as with his final words left hanging in the air he was gone, his truck disappearing up the lane. I was left glaring at the back of it as it disappeared into the distance. I actually felt like I wanted to stamp my foot but refrained from doing so as not only was it childish, but I had the horrible feeling he might see me in the rear-view mirror and realise he’d got to me.
I couldn’t believe he could have come out with something so sexist – it was almost as if he was trying to wind me up. As I completed my journey I fumed at what I perceived as his misogyny, annoyed that my previous high spirits had been swept away and replaced by anger.
Chapter 7
I woke early the next morning, early enough to see Trent run past and I idly wondered if he did that every morning. He was such an uptight control freak I suspected he had his routine and stuck to it, rigidly.
Today was the day I was finally going to meet the horses so I leapt out of bed, went to feed and let Susie out, had a shower, dressed in my jodhpurs and grabbed some breakfast. Susie came with me as I made up beds in three of the stables, filled water buckets and hay nets, and with nothing else left to do, returned to the cottage to make myself a coffee. As I drank this in the garden, I heard the lorry approaching and practically skipped across the yard to meet it. Cavendish beamed at me as he brought the lorry to a halt, turning off the engine.
Greeting me with his usual enthusiasm, my anticipation heightened as we went round to the back of the lorry to let down the ramp. I climbed up and ducked under the partition, undoing the lead rope to the head collar of the first pony, Benjy. Cavendish unbolted the partition and opened it up as I turned Benjy and led him down the ramp. Tying him to a ring on the fence I went back to the lorry and undid the second partition so Cavendish could lead out the next pony, Zodiac. We went through the same pattern for me to lead Grace’s horse, Monty, down the ramp and finally Cavendish brought out Regan, smiling when he saw the look on my face when I first looked up at him.
“Magnificent, isn’t he?” he said with pride.
“He certainly is…I can’t wait to ride him,” I exclaimed. Regan was dark bay and big, standing well over seventeen hands; he was a handsome horse with great presence and I fell for him immediately.
Cavendish went to tie him up, then we unloaded the tack, rugs and other paraphernalia from the lorry, closed it up, and Cavendish took it round the back of the barn where it would be permanently parked. As he walked back round I saw Trent drive into the yard, raising my hand in silent greeting, which he acknowledged by nodding his head. I hoped he wasn’t going to be getting out of the truck as I did not want another run-in with him to spoil my mood. Fortunately he made no move to open the door. Cavendish came towards me to ask if I’d be all right as Trent had come to pick him up. I assured him I’d be fine and off they went.
I took off Regan’s travel boots, checked him over to make sure there’d been no injury, then led him out to the paddock, taking off his head collar to let him loose. I wasn’t going to get to ride him for a while as he was having a holiday after hunting for the season. I watched him for a minute or two to check he wasn’t going to do anything stupid but he seemed quite calm, so returning to the yard, I took off each of the other horses’ boots.
I was planning on riding Monty out but didn’t think it wise to immediately lead out one of the ponies so they were going to go out into the paddock a little later, when I’d be able to keep an eye on them. I was too big to ride either of them so would be relying on leading them out or lunging them in the arena each day to keep them fit.
So putting each pony in its stable I turned my attention to Monty. He was a good-looking thoroughbred horse, medium height, light bay and finely built and I imagined his elegance suited Grace well. Tacking him up I grabbed my gloves, hat and stick, mounted him and we set off, out of the gate and along the lane. I’d decided I’d only ride him along the estate roads today to get him used to his new surroundings. He was alert, responsive to my touch and we set off enthusiastically. I realised after the first couple of hundred yards Susie was following us – I’d forgotten to close the cat flap. Initially worried by this as I didn’t want her to get lost, after a while I relaxed as she stuck with us and got her exercise for the day as well. We were out for about an hour, returning to the stables unscathed, and as I put Monty in his stable I saw Susie disappearing into the cottage and smiled to myself – no doubt she was going back to bed.
I turned both the ponies out with Regan for a couple of hours, then after having a quick lunch I spent the afternoon organising all the equipment that had arrived before starting on evening stables. I groomed Monty, and then, getting Zodiac and Benjy in, groomed them too.
Once evening stables had been completed I stood for a moment, leaning on the post-and-rail fence, breathing it all in. The atmosphere had already changed in the yard; the evening air was warm and it now carried on it the deliciously sweet smell of horse and hay that was so comforting to me, that evoked so many memories of my past, of growing up alone but never lonely. It felt good to have the yard to myself at last, to work in silence uninterrupted by anyone else’s demands.
I went to change and set off for a workout. I was already feeling calmer than normal, caused no doubt by the arrival of the horses plus the physically active day which the workout would add to. Since Eva’s death, exercise had not only provided an outlet for relieving my stress but had been what I’d used as a natural way to try and lift my depression, being unwilling to take pills to combat it. That was why I’d become so focused on the kickboxing, needing to keep feeling the release of endorphins, training every day just to get that lift.
The next day I certainly knew I’d been riding – muscles I didn’t know existed complained as soon as I got up, but I knew I was going to have to do the same that day, and every day after and my body was going to
have to get used to it.
Gradually our days fell into a routine which filled the next few weeks. I enjoyed getting to know the horses and was soon greeted by their welcoming nickers in the morning. They were all good-natured and affectionate, loving the attention I gave them, with Benjy being the cheekiest of them all. He’d clearly been spoilt in the past as I frequently felt his nose nuzzling in my pockets to see if I had any treats for him.
I went to the pub most Fridays, the pickup arriving to give me a lift already loaded up with whoever was ready to go. Generally the girls arrived later, taking longer to get ready than the boys had patience for.
On one evening towards the end of June we were occupying our usual booth, which was getting quite rowdy, when I got up to get in the next round of drinks. I went to the bar and, while I was waiting, gazed across the room to see Trent sitting there, at a table, alone. He was leaning on his elbows with his chin rested on one hand, the other wrapped around his glass which he was staring down into. He looked so sad, the expression on his face desolate, and an unexpected wave of tenderness washed across me, catching me by surprise. As I watched him his head lifted, his gaze coming up to meet mine. Heat came to my cheeks as I blushed having been caught staring at him, but I found I couldn’t look away and he continued to look steadily back at me, raising his head briefly in greeting. A small smile came to his lips, but it wasn’t strong enough to warm his bleakly dark eyes. I smiled in response and as I did so I saw his expression harden, concern flickering across his eyes. I realised the reason for the change in him as I became aware of Gary sidling up, his beery breath giving him away as it wafted over me. I sighed, irritated, and when I turned to him he was leering at me through his alcohol-dulled eyes.