Adam was in prison awaiting trial, a trial for which I could see no conclusion other than him being found guilty of a terrible crime and being locked away for the next twenty years. And, if he had done it if he had been able to stand before a young girl and watch her die, did Kate really want to have him in her life?
Perhaps the suggestion of a divorce was not a display of everlasting love, but the proof he knew what he had done. Guilt on more than one level, it seemed. Perhaps the man I loved, the man I thought I had known had secrets he had kept from me.
I had forced him away, forced him to work at another yard and, perhaps into the arms of another woman and, if he could do that, who knows what he could be capable of. Maybe it would be for the best that his unborn child never knew him, a person the world thought was a cruel and callous murderer.
No, I couldn’t believe it. I lay in bed, desperate to try and reconcile the thoughts in my head. This was madness. I loved him. He had loved me, unconditionally.
“Oh, Adam… What have you done?”
* * *
I stared at the monitor. I’d been slumped in the office chair for hours, the CCTV footage running on repeat, I just couldn’t even bring myself to switch it off. I took a deep slug from another wine bottle. This was it; my horses would be gone soon and with them my reason for living. “Why did you do it, Adam?” I asked the empty room. Olivia had been difficult but it hadn’t been my choice to have her in the yard. Grace forced my hand, demanding her daughter be given special treatment. Well, she got that… No doubt Grace had expected that all along, from the moment I accepted her sponsorship, had been that I would babysit her obnoxious daughter.
Oh, I’d been warned, other riders had taken me aside and told me Grace could be trouble. But I was a young rider, I wasn’t exactly spoilt for choice when it came to funding. When Grace came to me, gushing about how good I was and how I would fit her brand so well, I was flattered. She was good at that, making you feel special until you were caught in her trap. I’d needed the money, but from the moment she was my sponsor she made it clear she was the one in charge.
She was totally controlling, which horses I should ride, which events I needed to attend, even what I wore. For God’s sake, I’d have to wear a specific brand of underwear as her ‘riders’ comfort’ brand was part of her organisation. The shame when she had made me drop my breeches when she had come unannounced to the yard to see I was, what did she say, ‘living the brand’. I’d seen Sally smirking, my cheeks bright red with embarrassment.
Sally didn’t understand why I complained about Grace. On the outside, Grace was always perfect, so nice, so lovely. Always complimenting the hard-working grooms and showering Sally with gifts before taking me into the farmhouse and berating me for costs or poor riding, even when I’d won a competition.
The shame at Olympia the year before. It was the Christmas party for the showjumping fraternity, with big competition and equally big prizes. Grace had wanted to win everything and had yelled at me when I’d ‘not ridden hard enough’. I’d been a few hundredths of a second off first place, it had been nail-bitingly close and she should have been happy. The final even made the mainstream press and her face was all over it. But no, this wasn’t good enough for her. While she sent Sally off to the after-show party she had dragged me away to the stable block to tell me I was a total failure, a sham. Her daughter could ride better and, if I failed her again, she would replace me with her.
So that was what had happened, Olivia was to be ‘taught’ by me, but within a season she would have my rides and no doubt my yard. Stupidly I’d signed over most of the property, advised by her people it would save me so much money. I’d been so naive, by the time I’d realised what I’d done, signing documents I didn’t understand or even been given time to read, I’d signed over everything to her. She could throw me out of what had been my family home at a moment’s notice, and that moment was about to arrive.
How had it come to this? I was a good rider, I won classes and big competitions. I sold a hell of a lot of her cheap and nasty horse feed, not that I liked feeding it to my horses. Oh, I was well aware of the online rumours and the campaigns to get the products banned as they were of ‘substandard quality, a metaphor for floor sweepings and whatever mouldy crap could be cooked and served as ‘Turners Performance Pony Pencils’ or their competition mix which, embarrassingly, had a photo of me on the pack. Not that there was a professional worth their salt who would feed it to their horses. I’d been the laughing stock of the circuit. What had Rupert said, ‘Oh look who’s been stupid enough to put her face to that shite…’
Grace had called me and told me Olivia would be arriving and I should start teaching her. No warning, no discussion. I’d tried with Sally and Adam, oh goodness how I’d messed that up. If only I could have been honest. I wish I could have at least sat Sally down and explained why she was here, that it hadn’t been my decision to take Olivia on. But she rubbed people
