The Country Escape - Jane Lovering Page 0,4
faint Dorset accent, the thick rays of sun striping down through the trees, and the hum of birds and bees made it feel like the closing-credit scene in some bucolic film. Tess of the D’Urbervilles swam briefly to mind, until I realised that that wasn’t really the serene image I was looking for.
The blackbird sang again, now high in the apple tree.
Behind me, the kitchen door slammed in a gust, the badly fitted windows rattled, and the man and horse both looked up at me. Now in sunlight, I could see the man better. He was tall, long-haired, with one of those faces that look as though they’ve been designed by computer, all cheekbones and eyes and chin. He was wearing a pair of glasses so thick that his eyes were magnified, and a designer stubble that gave him the look of an off-duty Burberry model. With the piebald horse blowing softly at me over his shoulder, it was all a bit Country Life photo shoot for me.
‘He’s fine,’ I said, stiffly, horribly aware of my hair tied up with a J-Cloth, and that my apron had a pattern of ducklings all across the pocket. ‘He’ll need some water though.’
The man, Gabriel, looked back at the horse, and murmured a few more soft words, then patted the rough neck and stepped away. ‘Have you got a bucket? I’ll leave him some and then if you could refill it?’ He put his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, pulled them out again and then folded his arms, as though having to deal with limbs were a new problem for him. ‘And then I’m going up to Bridport to slowly murder Granny Mary for putting us both in this position.’
He’d looked away again, watching the enormous splayed hooves picking their way past the tree roots, and his words had been quiet, but heartfelt. I immediately felt defensive on the part of the absent Granny Mary. ‘Well, he’s not doing any harm for now. At least she had the sense to put him somewhere with decent fencing, rather than leaving him roaming out on the lane.’
This elicited a small smile. ‘Well, Patrick and the van are her pride and joy. Even something like a stroke isn’t going to come between Mary and Patrick’s welfare.’
Another silence resulted, broken only by the determined sound of equine teeth ripping up my grass. Eventually, because we were both just standing there, I cleared my throat. ‘So, you’re going to find somewhere else for him to go, and I’ll just keep an eye on him in the meantime.’ I spoke briskly, to break the deadlock. I had the feeling that if I didn’t move this along a bit, he’d stand here in the orchard for the rest of the day, and I had paintwork to be washing down.
‘Er. Yes.’
He still had his arms folded, and was staring at the ground.
‘And I suppose we ought to pull the van in through the gate, to keep it off the road.’ My apron flapped in the breeze, a little flag marking my status. ‘Only I’ve got things to get on with, so…’
Now his head came up. ‘Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry. I was just thinking. I’m a bit… yes. Yes, of course.’ He gave his head a quick shake, as though trying to lose something in the movement. ‘Can you give me a hand?’
I opened the gate. A whirl of pockmarks showed where Patrick had come in in a hurry, pitting the entrance, and we had to struggle to pull the van through the ridged mud. But eventually, with each of us tugging one shaft, we dragged the surprisingly light vehicle in and parked it against the far hedge, with the shafts up on their rests. It looked very at home there, with its red bow roof squeezed between inquisitive bramble stems, the paintwork almost glowing as the sun caught it. The big yellow wheels with their red trim stood as stickily in the long grass as the pony did, and there was a certain similarity also in the squat wide body. Patrick, in the meantime, grazed near the kitchen door and took no notice of us gasping and pulling, until we stepped away from the van, when he ambled up to scratch his tail against the woodwork.
Gabriel gave me a grin that made him look less like a distracted computer programmer with a modelling contract. ‘That should do. I can tell Granny Mary that it’s all safe