A Rural Affair - By Catherine Alliott Page 0,83

and gorgeous in a dark suit, was indeed collecting a hymn book and joining the growing congregation.

‘Made a bit of a fool of myself,’ Angie muttered.

‘Really? When?’ I was intrigued. ‘You never said.’

I turned to stare at her in wonder. Pete was surely a harmless crush. A fantasy figure, like a member of a boy band, to pin on a bedroom wall and drool over. He was also a good ten years younger than Angie.

‘What did you do, wrestle him into the back of his mobile forge?’

‘Don’t be silly.’ Angie reddened.

I blinked. ‘Please tell me you didn’t rip off his leather apron? Have him over his anvil? Hammer hammer hammer?’

‘Oh, shut up, Poppy.’ She swallowed. ‘No, he just … Well, he sussed that I was getting him out on false pretences, that’s all.’

‘Getting him out? What d’you mean?’

‘Horses only need shoeing every six weeks or so. Pete was doing mine slightly more regularly than that,’ she said tightly.

‘Oh.’

It occurred to me that I did see Pete’s van go past my house most weeks, and if I wandered past Angie’s house with Archie, Pete was quite often parked in the stable yard round the side.

‘Of course I always had some spurious excuse up my sleeve, about how their feet grew quickly and needed trimming, or I was worried a shoe was loose. I even wrenched a shoe off myself in the middle of the night, nearly put my bloody back out, just so I could get him round.’

An image of Angie in her stables, under cover of darkness, with a startled horse and a pair of pliers, sprang to mind. My mouth twitched, but I was surprised too. Didn’t know she had it so bad.

‘What happened?’ I said gently.

‘One day he said he thought my horse was in danger of being over-manicured, and was there any particular reason I’d got him round. He looked me right in the eye and asked if there was anything else that needed servicing?’

‘No!’ I breathed.

I tried to imagine the shy, taciturn Pete saying that, but was aware I’d only seen him out of his milieu, at the book club, not handling a nervous horse, a red-hot firing iron in his hand.

‘Oh, Poppy, he was all strong and masterful. You should see him when he’s in his own environment,’ she said, echoing my thoughts. ‘It sort of … defines him.’

For some reason I thought of Sam, when I’d first met him: in his paper-strewn office, sleeves rolled up, files and books all over the floor. Not any more, of course. Tidy now.

‘So … you said?’ I prompted, tremulously.

‘I said yes.’

‘Angie, you didn’t!’

‘I bloody did. I looked him straight back in the eye and said yes, actually, I’d like him to do the same for me as he’d done for Mary Granger last hunting season, and gave him a terrific wink.’

‘He services Mary Granger?’ I gasped. Mary was a rangy, scary, foxy blonde, who rode horses professionally and relentlessly. She was always trotting past, stony-faced and in a hurry, one horse under her bony bum, another on a lead rein. She probably wouldn’t have time for the normal social conventions a boyfriend entailed. I could imagine her bonking a man like Pete before breakfast, as part of her horsy routine. Stable management.

And was it my imagination or was Sylvia, in front of Angie, leaning back, straining to hear?

‘Why are you so horrified?’ Angie looked defiant. ‘Not everyone wants a boyfriend, you know. I don’t. And I certainly don’t want another husband. But what I do, occasionally, feel the need for, is the touch and feel of a man and some basic human comfort. Preferably without a saggy stomach, dandruff or BO, and preferably the right side of forty.’ She raised her chin. ‘I’ve always liked sex, if you must know.’

‘Right,’ I said inadequately, wondering if I must know that in church and quite loudly too. Sylvia’s ears were as pricked as those of any horse on the hunting field.

‘Well, anyway, we went upstairs –’

‘Just like that?’ I tried but failed to keep the squeaky excitement from my voice.

‘Yes, just like that. He made the pretence of grabbing some tools, and then he asked where the bathroom was, which, frankly, I was pleased about, because don’t forget he shoes horses for a living. Fairly blue collar and all that. So when we got to the top of the stairs I showed him into my en suite. Then I went into the bedroom, took all my clothes off and

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