| |
SUMMER SAW THE COMPLETION of works at Redfern Equestrian Centre. Forty loose boxes now, and they were quickly filling up. New post-and-rail fencing edged the paddocks, both arenas were in constant use, and riders made the most of the bright new show jumps and the rustic cross-country fences, which sat in the open fields. Even the bungalow had been smartened up. Vibrant green window frames lifted the fifties façade with a splash of colour. Hettie had taken on two more grooms and, with the arrival of their first batch of working students, there were plenty of hands to do the work, although somehow there were still more than enough jobs to keep them all busy.
Hettie strode into the student block. In her mind she still thought of it as the new student block, but it had already been weathered and dusted by the traipse of boot and paw. If she was quick, she could grab herself a coffee in peace before the students came in for their lecture. She pushed open the door to the lecture room, or the pit stop, as the students called it, and shook her head in mild annoyance. The pit stop was in danger of turning into a pit, something else she’d have to lecture the students about. Coats, hats and riding boots filled the floor space between the comfy chairs, and the table was littered with paper cups and discarded chocolate wrappers. Someone had drawn a smiley face on the whiteboard that covered the end wall, along with the scrawled words YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE MAD TO WORK HERE BUT IT HELPS.
She smiled as she pushed the buttons on the coffee machine. It could be worse. They were a great bunch really. They brought a lot of laughter to the yard. And she’d learnt that she enjoyed teaching teenagers more than she’d thought she would. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She took it out and looked at the screen. Caroline Thanet.
Hettie watched the flashing symbol as the call rang out. She knew she should answer it, but there were only two reasons Caroline would be calling. Either the courts had set a date for the trial, or she wanted to remind Hettie she’d promised to get back to her when she’d had another think about the dates when Julian had first... The phone stopped buzzing.
Hettie tipped back and perched her bottom on the edge of the table. She didn’t need to remember the dates. They were there in that bloody diary that kept mocking her from the top of her wardrobe. She didn’t want to read it, and she didn’t want to remember. There was a scuffle of laughter and footfall outside. She stood up quickly. Had a date been set for the trial? Her hand shook slightly as she pushed the phone back into her pocket. She couldn’t deal with this right before a lecture. She’d call Caroline back later. She needed her wits about her with this mob.
She held up her hand as the door flew open. ‘Stop right there, you lot. Now, look around this room, and tell me what you see.’
––––––––
ALEXANDER LET HIMSELF into the bungalow. Pig padded through from the living room. He could hear the shower running and Hettie shouted from the bathroom, ‘I’ll be right out!’
He sat at the kitchen table, noticed her dinner, uneaten, beside the microwave. When she joined him, he nodded towards it. ‘Are you okay? Not eating?’
She shrugged. ‘Not hungry. Don’t get all bossy on me. I’m not in the mood.’
‘Only asking. You said you were eating like a horse yesterday.’
‘That was yesterday.’ She dropped into the chair opposite him, stared at the table and rubbed her thumbnail over its surface. ‘We’ve got a date for the court case.’
‘You are doing the right thing, you know.’
She looked at him. ‘Are you sure about that? Why am I stirring all this shit up again? Aren’t you meant to be calm when you’re pregnant? I read online that if you have an uptight pregnancy you end up with an uptight baby.’
Alexander smiled and picked up her hand. ‘I’d say that the fastest way to an uptight pregnancy is to read all the crap that’s printed online. You’re doing great. Sprog’s fine. And you’ll get through the court case. I’m not saying it’ll be fun, but you’re brave, and you’re gutsy. You can do it. I’ll be there—’
‘I don’t want you there. I don’t want anyone there.’
‘Why not?’
‘Airing all my dirty laundry in public? No, thanks.’
‘Greaves’s dirty laundry, not yours.’ His grip on her hand tightened. He wanted to tell her that nothing she said would change how he felt about her. But why should she believe him, when he’d already proved the lie? He let go of her hand. What gave him the right to act as her supporter now? Of course she wouldn’t want him there. He stood and filled the kettle, kept his back turned and braced his hands against the worktop. ‘I’m sorry, for the way I behaved when I read that email.’
He could feel the tension in the silent pause before Hettie answered. ‘So am I. And I’m sorry that I kissed someone else.’
He forced a broad smile onto his face when he set the two mugs of tea on the table. ‘If you’re not going to eat that shepherd’s pie, do you mind if I do?’
She laughed. ‘Help yourself.’
The microwave whirred into action again, drifting the aroma of Anna’s home cooking across the kitchen. Hettie leant back in her chair. ‘Bring two forks. I might be getting my appetite back.’
Alexander set the Pyrex dish on the table between them, and they both scooped forkfuls into their mouths. ‘There’s nothing you could do that would change how I feel about you.’ He kept his eyes averted as he spoke.
‘So, if something like that happened again—’
‘Happened again?’ She was laughing at him. His mouth curled reluctantly. ‘If something like that happened again, I can’t promise that I’d behave like an adult. But I can promise that I’d give you a hearing before I lost it.’
Hettie grinned, the fork still between her lips. ‘You know, I think your mum must have had a really uptight pregnancy.’
––––––––
WHEN HE’D GONE SHE carried a chair through to the bedroom and reached down the diary from the top of the wardrobe. She perched on the edge of her bed. Pig jumped up beside her, and she didn’t tell him off.
Her teenage scribblings made her cringe. The biro had scored the paper with fervour. Capital letters, double inked, far too many exclamation marks. And, as if those alone weren’t enough to express her wild emotion, she’d punctuated the pages with hearts and stars and thick underlines.
*I LOVE PERCY!!!* CLEAR ROUND!!! He’s the BEST HORSE ever!
Hettie smiled, remembering Percy, the Irish cob with the overly big head and one walleye. Not a looker by any stretch of the imagination, but he’d had a hell of a jump in him. She wondered where he was now and hoped his life had been a good one.
I’m ALMOST 100 PER CENT SURE JULIAN IS FLIRTING WITH ME!!! Can’t wait for tomorrow! BUT I’ve got to get through a whole bloody day at SHITTY SCHOOL first... HOW AM I GOING TO DO IT????
The smile stayed stuck on her face as her memories stuttered on the sudden shift from loving Percy to loving Julian. Because she had been in love with him, an adolescent passion, spiced with hearts and stars and exclamation marks. So did that mean...? She shook her head and flicked on through the pages, quickly now.
There it was. February 14th. How very ironic. Three weeks before her sixteenth birthday. WTF. Her pen had pressed so hard it had torn the paper, and the rest of the page was covered in black question marks.
Hettie closed the diary. Her stomach churned with the remembered pain and confusion she’d felt on that day. And that had only been the start. She picked Pig up and hugged him to her chest. She’d call Caroline tomorrow. The police could have the bloody diary. She didn’t want it anymore. What she wanted was to believe that none of it had been her fault.
She looked at the time on her phone. Nine thirty. Would it be ridiculous to call Alexander? What exactly would she be calling him for? Impossible to answer that, when all she really wanted was to hear his voice. She set Pig on the floor and went back out to the kitchen. She put the diary in a carrier bag and hung the bag on a hook with the coats in the porch. Hadn’t she learnt anything from this whole sorry mess? She couldn’t rely on him to be there for her, and she couldn’t trust anyone, not even herself. She pressed the call button on her phone. ‘Hi, Mum. No, no, I’m fine. Sorry it’s late. I was just calling to say thanks for the dinner you left. It was delicious.’
She heard tyres on the gravel as she chatted to her mum, and was walking to the living room to look out of the window when Alexander came in through the door. She finished her call and looked at him.
He dipped his head and smiled. ‘I just wondered if you and Sprog might want some company tonight.’