The Country Escape - Jane Lovering Page 0,42

up his glasses. ‘And try not to make any more faux pas.’

I handed him the dandy brush I’d bought when I’d got the hay net. ‘You could give Patrick a bit of a tidy up if you like.’

Gabriel stared at the brush. ‘I’m not really very horsey.’

‘Brush. You know, brush brush. Like hair, only bigger. And more equine.’

A sudden smile illuminated his face. It crinkled his eyes, made him look mischievous and horribly sexy, with that soft fall of dark hair and those cheekbones that went on forever. ‘I might be able to get the hang of that. As long as he stands still.’

Ignoring the smile, I threw open the back door and let the welcome coolness of the foggy morning in. He needn’t think he could smile like that and have me – well, whatever effect he thought it would have. I was impervious to charm. I’d been married to a Frenchman, for God’s sake, and look how that had turned out.

Inside the van felt a good deal drier than the house. I opened the little side window and the door to let a through draught in, although the air outside was very still, weighted down by all the water. A faint and reluctant sun was oozing through the mist in a jagged and patchy way but having no effect on heating up the air – in fact, all it was doing was releasing that ‘autumnal’ scent, which smelt as if someone had set fire to blackberries.

Outside I could hear Gabriel talking soothingly to Patrick, who was pulling chunks from his hay net, and the rasping sound of a dandy brush on patches of mud. There was a peculiar feeling somewhere between my ribs and stomach, and I had to sit on the little bench seating opposite the tiny stove for a moment as it gripped me; it felt as though someone had torn a hole through my skin and was allowing the day into my heart.

I felt happy. I wasn’t a complete stranger to happiness, of course not, there were moments of happiness in every day – Poppy giving me a sudden hug, the smell of new baking coming out of the oven, a really good cup of tea first thing in the morning, surrounded by birdsong. But this happiness was different. More of a low simmering kind of enjoyment of everything around me. The smell of polish and frying inside the van, the chill of outside with its top note of mud, stomped grass and old vegetation. The sound of Gabriel’s voice murmuring and Patrick’s occasional squelch. The rock of dissatisfaction that usually weighted down my stomach dissolved in the quotidian. Odd.

‘Are you all right in there?’ Gabriel appeared in the little doorway, hair awry and a mud-clotted brush in his hand. ‘You’ve gone very quiet.’

Behind him, Patrick snorted hay dust.

‘I’m just feeling…’ I took a deep breath. The smell of old fat was definitely less now; I must have been sitting for a while. ‘Happy. I’m realising that moving to Dorset probably wasn’t such a stupid idea.’

He came a little further into the van, shoving the brush into his pocket. ‘Why did you think it was before? It’s an odd kind of revelation to have on a damp morning. It’s a lot nicer round here when the sun is out.’

‘Did you ever leave?’ I didn’t really look at him as I asked, and instead kept my eyes on the brightly painted cupboard by the stove.

‘I was in Exeter for a while. And I live in Bridport now. It’s not exactly Bright Lights, Big City, but I have travelled. This isn’t all I know.’ His voice was quiet. There was something of the same tone as I’d heard him using to Patrick, something gentle. ‘I had to get away for a while, so I went round Europe with nothing but a backpack and an inept understanding of how to say “more beer, please” in five European languages.’

‘Did you enjoy it?’

‘Well, I got drunk a lot.’ He came further inside. ‘And saw lots of landmarks. Well, bits of them.’ The glasses came off again and he turned them around in his hands. ‘It was a bit crazy, to tell the truth, but then, everyone goes a bit off the rails when they’re young, don’t they?’

‘Don’t say that, Poppy’s fourteen. I’m expecting an “off the rails” moment any day now.’

‘Is that why you’re snatching this moment of feeling happy? You’re expecting the wheels to come off any second?’

It was