Nick looked up when he heard a car trundling over the cobbles and sighed in exasperation. Gently placing the horse’s hoof back on the ground, he straightened up, prepared to do battle. Firstly, he’d told Miranda several hundred times not to drive around the back, but to use the driveway by the house (he wasn’t being pedantic – he had sound reasons for the request, namely that it could startle the horses), and because he hated it when she turned up unexpectedly.
This time she had her good-for-nothing brother in tow.
‘Hello, darling,’ Miranda trilled as she slid gracefully out of the car. ‘I’ve brought William. I hope you don’t mind, but he insisted on coming.’
Nick did mind – the bloke was a waster and a nuisance – but manners got the better of him and he tried for a smile instead. There was no point in annoying the future Lord Tonbridge, and especially since the present Lord and Lady Tonbridge thought the sun shone out of the lad’s arse.
“Lad” was rather incorrect. William was only a couple of years younger than Nick, but his attitude and lifestyle was that of a student, staying up until the wee small hours partying, and then lying in bed until midday, if local gossip was to be believed. Nick wondered, not for the first time, what the bloke actually did, and came to the same conclusion he always arrived at – nothing.
William had his sister’s innate grace and Nick watched him with narrowed eyes as he too, slipped from the vehicle. The old Land Rover wasn’t an easy thing to get in and out of and most people tended to clamber.
Nick’s eyes narrowed even further when he noticed what the siblings were wearing. The brother had a three-piece suit on and a cravat around his neck (a cravat for God’s sake! Where did the idiot think he was – on a catwalk?). His sister had a flouncy dress and high-heeled strappy sandals.
Nick watched her pick her way over the cobbles, wobbling on those long legs of hers, and he couldn’t help but appreciate her looks. Miranda was one attractive lady. But the problem was, she knew it.
‘Can’t stop long, we’re on our way to Cheltenham,’ she trilled.
Ah yes, the races. That explained why the pair of them were dressed up to the nines.
‘Don’t let me hold you up,’ he replied.
‘You aren’t, dahling. We can spare a bit of time.’ Miranda sounded as though she was doing Nick a favour by turning up at all. ‘How’s Domino?’
‘See for yourself.’ Nick jerked his head at the horse’s stable.
‘Can you be a love, and get him out for me? I don’t want to risk breaking a heel.’
Nick sarcastically tugged at his forelock. ‘Yes, madam.’
‘Oh, you!’ Miranda let out a tinkling laugh. ‘Don’t be so beastly.’
Nick tied a lead rope to the horse’s halter and led him out of the stable.
‘He looks good, doesn’t he?’ William said.
‘What did you expect him to look like? Whipped and beaten? Starving?’ Nick said.
‘Take no notice, Wills. Nick is nothing but a grump.’ Miranda laughed.
‘Where’s Tia?’ William asked, looking around as if he expected her to be hiding behind a water trough.
‘Indoors,’ Nick replied, shortly.
‘Do you mind awfully if I pop in and say hello?’
Nick did mind, but before he could think of a reason to refuse, William had darted towards the office door and disappeared into the depths of the house. At least Nick had one consolation – Tia hated being surprised. She’d soon give him short shrift and send him packing.
Miranda tottered closer, being careful where she placed her feet, and patted Domino on the neck. She was close enough for Nick to smell her very expensive perfume.
‘How is he doing?’ she asked, sounding more serious. She had good reason to be concerned, Nick thought, because the horse had been almost uncontrollable when she’d brought it to him. She’d told him she’d got Domino from some fellow who was going to send him to the knacker’s yard, and the poor animal had been in a terrible state. Once Nick had sorted out the horse’s physical problems, he’d started on the mental ones – which hadn’t been quite so easy to deal with. It had been a case of two steps forward and one step back. He thought he’d cracked it at one point, but roadwork had proved to be a bit too much for the nervous gelding, especially when bright yellow Beetles appeared out of nowhere and scared the animal half to death.
‘Good,’ he said, pushing the image of the Beetle’s feisty owner out of his mind. ‘You can have him back next week. I just want to take him through Tanglewood one last time to check his reaction to traffic, to make sure the throbbing hub of the village doesn’t put him off his stride.’
Miranda patted his arm, much the same way she’d patted her horse a few seconds ago. ‘I really appreciate what you’re doing for me, Nick,’ she said, and now her voice was lower, throatier.
‘You’re paying me to do it,’ Nick pointed out.
‘Stop it! You sound like a real bad boy, and you make me sound even worse!’
Nick rolled his eyes. The woman was incorrigible and such a tease.
‘Aw, I’ve embarrassed you. Sorry, Nickykins, but you’re so easy to wind up.’
Nickykins! Arrgh! Nick ground his teeth. And where was that sodding brother of hers? Tia should have sent him away with a flea in his ear by now.
‘Haven’t you got a race to go to?’ he growled. ‘Go and lose some money.’
‘You’re such a grump.’ Miranda laughed again. ‘That’s what I love about you.’
Short of telling her to piss off, Nick didn’t know how else to tell her to leave him alone. He didn’t really want to hurt her feelings, but she was too in-your-face for his liking, too sure of herself, with the sort of confidence which comes from breeding and money. He knew for a fact that both she and her brother had gone to the best private schools, had mingled with all the right people, and had been seen in all the right places. Their whole lives seemed to give them a sense of entitlement and it grated on Nick a little.
He was realistic enough to understand some of his antagonism was envy – the siblings had had it so easy, never having to work for anything, never having to rough it, never knowing hardship. Unlike Nick, who’d had to fight every inch of the way for what he wanted.
Not that he regretted the fight, or where he was now – one of the top show jumpers in Britain – but show jumping was a rich man’s (or woman’s) pastime. Horses cost money. Good horses, the kind that take you to the Horse of the Year Show, or to the Olympics, cost a great deal of money indeed, and he wasn’t just talking about the initial outlay, either. Stabling, training, transport, entry fees, vets’ bills… they all added up.
Nick had been lucky. From the first time he’d set eyes on a horse, he knew what he wanted to do. At sixteen, with little or no experience, he’d persuaded a yard to take him on as a stable hand. He’d really wanted to be a jockey, but was simply too tall, and too well built, but he’d got lucky when he’d despondently traipsed into a show jumping yard expecting to be turned away and had been hired instead. Bed and board, and a couple of pounds a week to live on, he was worked to the bone and had loved every minute.
Once the yard’s owner had spotted a smidge of talent in the young Nick, he’d teased it out, and Nick hadn’t looked back since. Two medals in the Olympics and numerous other wins to his name later, sponsorship from some big names had enabled him to set up on his own.
If it wasn’t for Tia, he’d have absolutely no regrets.
Thoughts of Tia led to thoughts of William. Where was the blighter?
As if thinking about the man had made him magically appear, William sauntered out of the office and towards the car, with an inscrutable look on his face.
‘Did you find Tia?’ Nick called.
‘Yes, thanks.’ William got in and made a “wind-it-up” motion to Miranda.
‘We’d better be off,’ Miranda said, leaning in to peck Nick on the cheek. ‘Ciao, dahling. Lovely to see you.’
Nick watched her pick her way back to the Land Rover then returned the horse to the stable and went inside to find Tia.
‘What did posh-lad want?’ he asked, his tone scathing.
Tia shrugged. She was in the living room, her wheelchair parked in its usual spot. From there she could look out of the window, watch TV, and see into the kitchen – all at the same time if she wanted to.
Right now, she appeared to be staring into space. Her hands were twisting in her lap, and Nick noticed how pale she had become, despite a spot of high colour on both cheeks.
‘Did he upset you?’ Nick wanted to know.
‘No, of course not. He just wanted to ask how I was.’
‘Strange,’ Nick mused. Why would the bloke want to ask how Tia was? He barely knew her.
‘What do you mean, “strange”?’ The spots of colour had spread and Tia’s face was now quite pink. ‘Strange that a man should want to call to see me? Is that it?’ She was beginning to shout and she thumped her fist on the wheelchair’s armrest. ‘Is that what you meant?’
‘Wait… I… what?’
Tia almost drove over Nick’s toes as she spun the wheelchair around and made a dash for her room.
‘Tia—?’ he called after her.
‘Piss off!’’
‘Great. Where the hell had all that come from,’ Nick wondered. All he’d said was “strange” and she’d blown up like a landmine.
He’d give her some time to calm down, then go and apologise. He had no idea what he would be apologising for, but he’d do it anyway. It was the least he could do, because if it wasn’t for him, Tia would still have the use of her legs.