Greatfield Farm was over Westabere way. Valerie lived there with her parents, running the stables as an entirely separate enterprise from the big farm owned by her father.
In his casual way Max had first suggested going in the daytime, but I refused. If I was going to stay on at Malverton, I meant to be serious about the business—even if he wasn’t. I’d already seen enough to realize that a firm guiding hand was needed, plus some reorganization to bring things up to date.
I was determined not to change my father’s policy of keeping the selling price of MJ71 down to a minimum. I applauded the humanity behind the ruling. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t increase profits quite legitimately by reducing our overheads and improving efficiency.
I had established myself in my father’s old office, and spent the whole of Monday closetted in there with Doris Fenders, going through the books together. Max came and went, marvelling at our industry. I made several suggestions for short-cutting the laborious routines; for dispensing with a whole lot of form-filling. Luckily the plodding Miss Fenders seemed to welcome the interest I was taking, and greeted my ideas with enthusiasm.
By five-thirty I thought we deserved to quit.
I found Max on the drive outside, the bonnet of his Jaguar up. He wasn’t doing more than tinkering—his hands were much too clean. He straightened up when he heard me.
‘And about time too,’ he said with a grin. ‘You’re overdoing it, you know.’
‘I enjoy it.’
‘That’s the amazing thing about you,’ he said. ‘All that glam, and you like messing about in an office. What a waste!’
We reached the farm about six. I could see Max was at home in the place. He banged on the front door and walked in, calling: ‘Anybody around?’
Valerie appeared from the back of the house at the same moment as an older woman came out of a room to one side of the hall.
‘This is my mother,’ Valerie said, and introduced me.
Mrs. Carstairs was a dumpy little woman with over-permed hair and nervously fluttering hands. ‘How nice it is to meet you, Dulcie...." There was a faint air of helplessness about her as she went on: ‘Max dear, will you pour drinks for us? I think you’ll find everything ... we’ll ring for more ... if you need..."
Max played mine host with aplomb. ‘Just the way you like it,’ he promised intimately, as he handed me a dry martini. Valerie almost snatched her own drink.
She took me upstairs to change into riding clothes. Her bedroom was a lavish creation in blue and white—huge built-in wardrobes and a private bathroom. The things for me were laid out on the bed.
‘I hope they’ll do,’ she said, in a voice brilliantly designed to indicate that she couldn’t care less.
To my relief the breeches fitted. I looked okay as long as I didn’t try a direct comparison with the immaculate Valerie. Seeing her as we went down to join Max, hips swinging languorously, seductively, I wondered why he sought diversion elsewhere. Men were such odd creatures!
Before we went out, Valerie handed me a black velvet riding hat. ‘I always insist upon my clients wearing hard hats,’ she said. ‘It’s especially important for novices.’
She showed me round her stables, justifiably proud. Whatever she thought of me, she couldn’t stop the love of her life peeping out. The place was beautifully kept. She told me she had ten horses for hiring out by the hour, and she ran a small riding school too.
‘Jim has the mares saddled up,’ she said, leading us across the yard.
Mine was called Starlight. I admired the beautiful animal, standing there so docilely. I stroked its soft muzzle and it dropped its head in delight, nudging me for more.
‘I thought you’d give her Flash,’ Max protested. ‘You always say she’s a nice quiet mount for anyone who’s not done much riding."
Valerie frowned. It appeared that Flash was a bit lame today. Starlight it had to be.
A gentle whinnying came from a stall further along.
‘Come and see my new foal,’ said Valerie, pride overcoming her dislike. Together we leaned over the stable door, stroking the soft-eyed little beauty, while its mother watched me suspiciously.
‘Max is favourite with the mare,’ Valerie said, smiling more to herself than at me. ‘He can do what he likes with the foal.’ Her smile deepened, softening her face. ‘Where’s he got to, by the way?’
We looked around. Max came lounging over from where we had left him, grinning to himself. ‘You women are all the same,’ he mocked. ‘You always fall for babies, whatever the species.’
We went back to our horses. I looked up at Starlight, slightly apprehensive. Be gentle with me, I prayed silently, faith in my ability wavering. After all, it was years since I had sat on a horse, and maybe American training methods were different anyway. Would this mare respond to my commands?
I prided myself that at least I was pretty nifty about mounting. At the dude ranch where I’d learned riding, a girl had to be. The coach, a virile specimen of young American manhood, regarded female pupils as fair game. Lessons with him had been something of a rearguard action.
But he sure knew about riding, and I’d learned a lot from him. He’d always impressed on me the need to check the tack, and automatically I started on this now, working through methodically. Bridle and stirrup leathers were all right. I walked round the other side to okay the girth straps.
‘Need any help mounting?’ Valerie called, ready and waiting herself.
It would have been sensible to at least let her hold Starlight’s head, but vanity was at stake. I hitched my foot into the stirrup and swung up to the saddle with just a bit too much force. It startled the horse slightly, and she fidgetted before quietening down.
We went off in single file at a steady walk, Valerie ahead and Max bringing up the rear. Starlight appeared to be a gentle, responsive creature. I blessed her, and began to enjoy the sensation of being in a saddle once again.
Only a few yards from the stables we turned off the road on to a narrow bridle path, overhung with trees, dappled now with evening sunlight. We made light-hearted conversation, calling back and forth. I found that as long as I showed an interest in her horses, Valerie was perfectly amiable, so I stuck firmly to that subject.
She was a superb horsewoman. I watched with envy as we emerged from the wood into open country and broke into a trot. Valerie sat beautifully, relaxed but in firm control of her mount. Here, where the track was wider, we kept abreast for a little way. Max rode as I would have expected—well, with the instinctive reaction of an athlete. But he was just a shade too flamboyant.
Grudgingly, Valerie called to me, ‘You’re not doing at all badly, you know.’
Her reluctant praise pleased me out of all proportion.
It was wonderful territory for riding. We had been moving all the time in a wide circle, and now Greatfield Farm lay directly ahead of us only a couple of fields away. Suddenly Valerie dug her heels in and broke into a fast canter. Over confident, I too gave my horse its head for the homeward stretch.
It didn’t need pressing. Its instant response took me by surprise, leaving me badly off balance. I tried to hold Starlight back, but she’d got the challenge of a race before her, and wouldn’t be stopped. Alarmed, I saw Valerie’s horse jumping a five-barred gate, and realized that my own mount would follow.
Max was somewhere behind—I wasn’t even aware of him at that moment. The air was filled with the sound of thundering hooves. The speed was terrific. There was nothing I could do but hang on grimly. I prayed I’d get by.
I felt Starlight’s slight hesitation as she rose for the jump. Then we were in the air. and I felt the saddle slip away from under me....
A hedge broke my fall. Only later I discovered it was a prickly hawthorn hedge. I must have been dazed for some minutes. When I came to, Valerie and Max were bending over me anxiously. I had to thank my lucky stars for that hedge, but the thorns had done an awful lot of surface damage. I was bleeding from small cuts and scratches all over.
‘Are you all right, Dulcie?’ asked Max.
I had a feeling he’d asked me that several times already. Why are we taught to be brave at such moments? I wanted to burst into tears of weakness and pain and humiliation. I could have sunk into Max’s comforting arms and swooned. But being a modern girl, I forced a rueful smile. ‘I don’t think any bones are broken,’ I managed with hollow cheerfulness.
They helped me out of that horrible bush, and stood me on my feet. At once my legs jellied under me, and I collapsed again.
‘I’d better sit down for a bit, I think.’
The fields made a whirlpool around me, and I nearly passed right out. But gradually the spinning slowed and the world came back to order.
‘You should never have attempted that jump,’ Valerie said.
‘But I didn’t. My horse just followed yours. I couldn’t hold her back.’
They glanced at one another uneasily. Then Max snapped into decision. ‘You take the horses, Val. I’ll carry Dulcie back to the house.’
I was a feather in his powerful arms, and he was surprisingly gentle, as if I was fragile and he was scared of breaking me. He walked straight into the farmhouse, shouldering the door open, and set me down on a big sofa.
Mrs. Carstairs fluttered around me, feebly concerned. Briefly Max told her what had happened. ‘I’m going to ring for the doctor,’ he said, striding off.
Valerie came in, having put away the horses.
‘Max told me Dulcie was thrown,’ moaned her mother. ‘How ever did it happen, dear?’
‘She couldn’t quite handle Starlight, I suppose. She went to take the gate in Long Meadow and came off.’
‘Starlight? But why did you give her a steeplechaser? Surely...? I mean, for someone inexperienced...?’
‘Starlight is perfectly docile, Mother, as you know very well.’
I thought I detected a warning glance, but Max came in just then.
‘Doc Gregory won’t be long. I caught him at home, luckily.’
I lay back with closed eyes, thankful to be able to rest, not troubling to listen to the conversation that went on in the background. My mind was churning over those last few seconds before my fall, the anxiety I had felt on realizing my horse was out of control, my determination to keep my seat as she took the jump, the sickening way I had felt the saddle slew round….
Suddenly I was filled with an alarming idea. I couldn’t understand it—I always checked first. Then I recalled Valerie’s challenging remark, just as I was about to look at the girth straps.
Did I need help in mounting, she’d wanted to know. Had that remark been intended to goad me? To prevent me discovering a loosened strap? It was a perfectly horrible thought that Valerie had deliberately engineered my accident. But everything fitted. Max and Mrs. Carstairs had both thought Starlight unsuitable for me. The mare was a steeplechaser. It was in her nature to rise to the challenge on seeing another horse spurred to gallop and put to a jump.... With a loose saddle, what chance did I have?
When the doctor arrived he gave me a thorough working over. He was a bustling, fussy little guy, but he knew his job. ‘You’ll be all right, young lady,’ he reassured me. ‘Rest up for a few days and all will be well. But don’t go doing it again, or you might not be so lucky next time. It was a fortunate thing that you were wearing a hard hat.’
That hard hat. But didn’t Valerie’s insistence on my wearing it still fit my wild theory? Wouldn’t she have left herself wide open to criticism if she allowed me, a relative greenhorn, to ride without one?
Jealousy was the only reason Valerie could have for an attack on me. But jealousy about what? Did she seriously think I was a rival for Max? Couldn’t she see I had no designs on him?
I had no designs on any man.