“Thank you, Mrs. Dalrymple.”
In the kitchen Sonia produced a very tasty-looking fruitcake, and Jude had no inhibitions about taking a slice.
“Shop-bought, I’m afraid. My cake-making skills are not up to much.”
“I don’t think anybody’s are these days. Nobody’s got the time.”
“Oh, I’ve got the time,” said Sonia rather bleakly. Then quickly she recovered herself. “I keep buying cakes- it’s mad. Keep thinking the twins are going to come thundering in from school, as hungry as horses and… well…”
“A time of adjustment,” Jude suggested.
“Yes. Just that.”
But this wasn’t the moment to probe deeper into Sonia’s unhappiness. In a strange way, it would almost have felt unprofessional. The woman was a client, but this afternoon’s meeting was not being conducted on that basis. Jude moved the conversation on.
“Are Imogen’s parents actually divorced yet?”
“No, it’s in the process. That awful stage where they haven’t quite got their accommodation sorted. They’re both round the house at different times, trying to avoid each other. And then occasionally they do meet and there’s yet another row. Or at least,” she added hastily, “that’s what Imogen’s told me.”
“Can’t be much fun for her.”
“No, and she spends most of the time with her mother, which can’t help.”
“Oh?”
“Hilary Potton is a Grade A cow. Very self-absorbed and neurotic. I don’t think Immy gets much support from her-poor girl has to use most of her energy propping up a hysterical mother.”
“And what about the father?”
“Don’t know a lot about him. Think he’s called Alec, but…”
“Is he fond of Imogen?”
“Oh yes. Well, I assume he is. Fathers usually are fond of their daughters, aren’t they? Not to say besotted.”
“Is that how Nicky is with your girls?”
The question seemed to take Sonia by surprise. “Yes,” she replied formally. “He’s very fond of them.”
“But, going back to the Pottons’ divorce…”
“I don’t know much about it, really. Just that it’s proving very difficult to everyone involved. And of course they’ll both suffer financially. I mean, before the marriage broke up, there was talk of them buying a pony for Imogen-you know, she’d had riding lessons at Long Bamber, she was very keen…but no chance of that now. Alec-Alec Potton works as a salesman of some kind-fitted kitchens, I think-so they never had much. And with the divorce happening, there’s certainly no spare cash. Which is another reason why I feel I shouldn’t make a fuss about Immy riding Conker, in spite of the way I know Alice and Laura will react and…” Sonia Dalrymple shook her perfectly coiffed blond hair in exasperation. “God, everything’s so bloody complicated.”
“Yes, but surely-”
Jude was silenced by a finger to Sonia’s lips and a nod towards the door from the utility room, where Imogen was just entering.
“Conker all settled, is she?”
“Yes, Mrs. Dalrymple. She wanted me to stay.”
“Well, you must come and ride her another day.”
“Can I come tomorrow?”
Sonia looked flustered. If she wanted to wean Imogen off riding Conker before her daughters’ term finished, the task wouldn’t be an easy one. “I’m not quite sure what I’m doing tomorrow, Imogen.”
“You don’t have to be here. It’s Saturday. I’m off school. And I know where everything is.”
Jude observed the set-to with amusement. Imogen Potton was a very strong-willed young woman, but Sonia Dalrymple’s experience with her daughters had taught her how to stand up to strong-willed young women.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I can’t allow you to ride Conker when I’m not here.”
“But, Mrs. Dalrymple, you let me when she was up at Long Bamber.”
“That’s different. There are people up there keeping an eye on things. Mr. and Mrs. Fleet…well, Mrs. Fleet now. And her helpers, and other riders. It’s totally different here.”
“Oh, I-”
“Imogen, I’m sorry. You have to obey me on this. You are not to ride Conker unless I am here. If you had a fall, I’d be responsible.”
The words were said with finality, but as Jude had expected, Imogen wasn’t going to be silenced that easily.
“But I won’t have a fall. Conker knows me. She behaves when she’s with me, Mrs. Dalrymple.”
“Imogen, I don’t want to have to say this again. You are not to ride Conker unless I am here. Apart from anything else, you couldn’t get her saddle and tack if the house was closed.”
“But I could borrow some-”
“No. I am telling you you are not to ride her unless I am here! And if I find out you have been disobeying me on that, I will stop you riding her altogether. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Mrs. Dalrymple,” the girl mumbled.
For a moment there was a silence. But Jude was unsurprised when Imogen came back again. “So, what, can I ring you tomorrow lunchtime, see if it’s all right?”
Sonia looked flustered. “Well, er…I’m not sure exactly where I’ll be at lunchtime tomorrow. Maybe it’d be better if you left it a couple of days.”
“I’ll ring you lunchtime tomorrow,” said Imogen firmly, and with satisfaction. She reckoned she’d won the round. Then, remembering her manners, she added, “And thank you very much for letting me ride Conker today.”
“My pleasure. Now, as you see, Jude and I are having some tea and cake. Shall I get you a cup?”
“No, thank you. I’d better get home.”
“But you can’t go home on your own.”
“It’s fine. I walked here. I’m only in Fethering. It’s not far.”
“When you walked here, it wasn’t pitch dark.”
“But, Mrs. Dalrymple-”
“No.” Sonia sighed. “I’ll give you a lift. Just let me finish my cup of tea.”
“I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“Tell you what,” Jude interposed. “I’m walking back to Fethering. I’ll see you home, Imogen.”
The girl didn’t look enthusiastic, but Sonia leapt on the idea with relief. “Yes, that’s a very good solution.”
“Where do you actually live, Imogen?” asked Jude.
“River Road,” came the sulky reply.
“Perfect. It’s on my way. I live in the High Street.”
“Well, Imogen, now that’s settled, will you have a cup of tea?”
“No, thank you, Mrs. Dalrymple. I really should be getting back. Mum worries.”
“She’d worry more if she thought you were walking round on your own in the dark.”
“She wouldn’t care.”
“Oh, I’m sure she would.”
Jude decided it was time to halt the development of another disagreement. Draining her tea and picking up her coat, she announced that she was ready to leave. “Have a look at Chieftain in the morning. Try walking him around a bit. Though I’m afraid you’re unlikely to find much improvement.”
“I’ll live in hope. Now what do I owe you?”
Jude raised a hand to banish the idea. “You can pay me if he gets better. If not, don’t worry.”
“Paying by results? Is that how most healers work?”
“It’s how I work.”
“All right. If you insist.”
