said Phoebe. ‘I felt like Princess Diana in that mothers’ race. It’s been such fun. We must get another horse.’
‘That’s my last horse,’ quavered Painswick. ‘I couldn’t have another horse after Wilkie.’
Pocock put an arm round her heaving shoulders.
‘Think we ought to clear out and give her some peace,’ urged Alban.
Unable to contain her anguish any longer, determined not to frighten Mrs Wilkinson by breaking down in front of her, the same as not crying when Bartlett was put down, Etta stumbled out. Finding an empty stable, she sobbed her heart out.
‘Oh please God, let her be all right.’
Suddenly she was aware of darkness as the light from the door-way was blotted out by a large figure. It was Valent.
With a wail, Etta collapsed sobbing against him.
‘I’m so sorry, it’s Wilkie. I’m so terrified she’s going to be put down. I don’t want to frighten her by crying. Oh Valent, she’s so brave, I love her so much.’
‘I know you do.’ Valent enfolded her in a great warm bearlike hug. He was wearing a black shirt and a black and white herring-bone jacket. Both were soaked by Etta’s tears as he patted her shoulder and stroked her hair.
‘It’s OK, it’s going to be all right. What did the vet say?’
‘Lots of meaningless things, meaningless because you can’t take them in. I don’t want them to write her off and s-s-s-shoot her.’
‘No one’s going to shoot her, I promise, we’ll get her the best vets in the world. You pulled her through last time.’ For a moment Etta thought he might break down too, as he went on in a rough, choked voice, ‘She’s going to need you.’ He squeezed her tightly. ‘I’m so sorry, luv.’
‘Thank you.’ Drawing away, Etta tugged the pink and lilac scarf from her neck and blew her nose. ‘She was going so beautifully,’ she gulped.
‘She’ll be all right, she’s tough,’ said Valent, drawing her close again. ‘Come on, luvie, get a grip for Wilkie’s sake. We’ll go and see her.’
They heard a clatter outside and the smell of stables was joined by a waft of Allure.
‘Hello, hello-o.’ It was Bonny, with a distinct edge to her voice. ‘Welcome home, Valent. I thought it was Mrs Wilkinson who needed comforting.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ Etta leapt away from him, battling a further onslaught of tears. ‘Valent was just being unbelievably kind.’
Bonny glanced at Etta’s crimson, wrecked, blubbered face incredulously.
‘I didn’t assume for a second he was being anything else.’
‘Don’t be a bitch, Bonny,’ snapped Valent. ‘Wilkie’s special to Etta.’
‘And to me. I’ve got a share in her too. I’d have come sooner, but I can’t bear to see animals suffering. God, this place stinks.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ gulped Etta.
As she stumbled towards the door, Seth appeared.
‘Oh, there you all are. Hi, Valent, good flight? Great to see you back. Bonny managed to enchant some besotted official into driving us over. She’s been really missing you,’ he reassured Valent, then, turning to Etta: ‘Don’t worry, angel, Wilkie’ll be fine, she’s such a gutsy horse.’
Seth hugged Etta, his body so lean and honed, a panther compared with bearlike Valent.
‘I’ll look after Etta,’ Seth added, ‘and leave you two lovebirds to a touching reunion. You’re a lucky man, Valent.’
Seeing Valent’s face like granite, Bonny decided not to make a scene.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ she told him as soon as Seth and Etta were out of earshot. ‘You should have warned me you were coming. Nice jacket, black and grey suit you.’ Then, seeing Valent still looking wintry: ‘Don’t worry about Mrs Bancroft. I’ve spoken with Romy, her daughter-in-law, such a charming woman, and she says Etta’s a drama queen, far too dotty about animals, cries at the drop of a sparrow, and she’s had a little too much bubbly today. Martin and Romy are really concerned about her drinking.’
‘Etta’s a sweet lady,’ said Valent sharply, ‘and Wilkie means the world to her.’
‘And who’s been eating too much chop suey?’ Bonny poked Valent in the tummy. ‘We’ll have to get you back in shape, or on second thoughts,’ even in the dim light, Valent was dazzled by her beauty, ‘let’s go back to Willowwood. I can’t wait for you to see the improvements I’ve made and to try out our new bed.’
She couldn’t understand why Valent didn’t seem to take in what she was saying and insisted on seeing Mrs Wilkinson first.
Finding Bolton still bellyaching: ‘I paid three grand to join this syndicate, what compensation do I get if she’s a write-off