“Yes, Mr Bishop. Now have the girls finished filling the haynets?”
“Yes, they are just about to go up for the night. Why do you want to know?”
“You’ll see…” Kate grabbed my belt and led me across the yard towards the barn…
44
Epilogue
I sighed as I watched Dan kiss Amanda as she prepared to go to work. She was soon on her way with Dan following in his own car. It had been just that weekend that Amanda had, excitingly announced Dan had proposed. They’d gone out hacking together to the top of the Ridgeway on Hackpen hill. On the hill itself there is a giant white horse carved out of the hillside and filled with chalk, we could see it looking down on us every day on the yard, and so he knelt by it’s eye to ask her and present her with a beautiful ring.
I was excited for them, honestly. I realise that mum had been somewhat annoyed when I’d left the dinner table and run to the stables. She’d followed me sometime later.
“Annie, please be happy for them.” I’d turned to face her, having spent a good half hour crying into Tiny’s shoulder I knew my face was a mess. “They’ve been through a lot.”
What she really was saying was that they had been through a lot, ‘together’. There was no together for me. I had, of course apologised to Amanda and Dan who had both been lovely and told me they understood.
I threw myself into my work. I didn’t want for money, Sean, who was awaiting extradition back from the US had made sure I was financially sound so I made the best of working to support mum’s livery yard.
***
Another Christmas passed. Thankfully there were no horses trapped in the brook this year, we’d laughed as we sipped wine, but I’d still gone out and double checked that Tiny was safely in his stable.
He’d just ignored me, going back to munching from his haynet. “How come you are always so happy, eh?” He’d snorted, spraying me with snot which I suppose was as good an answer as any.
***
Winter eventually became spring. I always forgot how much the short, cold days and the boot sucking mud in the gateways depressed me so I was glad to see the dawn of new life with buds on the trees and a freshness in the air.
To be honest, I didn’t go looking for love, it sort of found me. So, I guess we really found each other.
***
It was April when one of our long term liveries said she would be moving on. A change in her work meant she would be leaving Wiltshire. We’d said our fond farewells and she’d driven away in a hired horsebox to pastures new. We didn’t need to advertise for a replacement, the local network of equestrians ensured that we were soon inundated with people who wanted to share our brick stabling with direct access to the Ridgeway and year-round grazing.
In the end, after a number of phone calls and meetings with prospective clients, we had whittled away the ones which mum had recognised as ‘trouble’. This was, sadly always a large proportion of the people who applied, however as mum said it was necessary to be careful as we were basically inviting people to share our home. We saw the stables as an extension of our home and having guests who were nothing but trouble was draining and caused more frustration than it was worth. After years of building the business, she could afford to be choosy. She’d call other yards to see if they had reasons why the prospective client was leaving. If the other yard manager was gushing in their approval and stated they were perfect and without reproach, mum would cross them off the list. It was obvious when someone was trying to get rid of a person who would nitpick, bully or bitch.
In the end, we welcomed Phillipa Cantrell into our livery family. Phillipa was just a few years older than me. Her horse ‘Dave’ was a skewbald cob with a flowing white tail and a luxurious moustache, I loved him immediately. The fact that he would pull faces to garner attention and potentially titbits from passers-by made him the life and soul of the yard.
Phillipa and Dave moved into the yard on a Saturday morning in late April. I hadn’t paid her much attention, spending more of my time admiring her horse. She was slim and pretty with blond hair and an infectious laugh. The other liveries welcomed her to our extended family.
On Sunday I promised to show her the bridleways and hacks from the yard, it was a sunny day and we went out across the fields before breaking into a gallop up Hackpen Hill. It was a steep incline and soon both Tiny and Dave were breathing heavily, their pace dropping to a trot as we reached the summit and the Ridgeway itself. I’d explained the Ridgeway was Britain’s oldest road leading from Avebury for almost one hundred miles towards Oxford.
We had ridden along chatting and laughing, our knees bumping as the horses nipped at each other. It’d been very pleasant and she’d thanked me once we’d returned to the tack room. I offered to clean her tack as well as my own and she had gone on her way.
Over the coming weeks we hacked out more, enjoying the shared conversation and friendly company, it allowed me to exercise horses without having to be by myself. During one of the hacks, I’d felt Phillipa place her hand on my thigh. I thought nothing of it so said nothing. We were friendly, it was a natural thing.
As we’d got back to the stables, she had called me into Dave’s stable, asking me to look as she was sure that there was heat in one of his legs. I went
