Taking Flight (24 page)

We stay there for a bit until Vicky pulls her hand away and straightens the rug. ‘It's going to take time,' she says, ‘and patience. The vet says he needs to be walked in hand every day to stop his leg stiffening up. And then if he ever gets back to work we'll have to take him really slowly.' She twists a strand of his mane round her fingers as if she's making up her mind about something, then she blurts out, ‘You can help if you want.'

‘Cam won't want me …'

Vicky shrugs. ‘If you want to speak to Cam she's probably in the tack room.' She raises her voice. ‘Rory! Could you bring me one of those apples?'

My feet force me across the cobbled yard to the tack room. I can see her through the window, bent over a pile of saddlecloths, her red hair glinting in the light, the same colour as Flight's coat. She jumps when she sees me.

‘Well,' she says. Her voice is very cool. Not giving anything away.

I swallow. ‘I came to say… I … em… I just wanted…' The words are out of reach. I shake my head and try again. ‘I'm sorry.'

‘I got your letter.' She goes on checking the stitching of a green saddlecloth that I remember is Kizzy's. The tack room walls are harsh white under the bare light bulb.

‘Also, thank you. For everything you taught me.'

‘You're welcome.'

The leather smell from the neat racks of saddles is delicious and unbearable. Even the sweaty smell of dirty saddlecloths. I stretch out a hand and finger a soft leather bridle on its hook.

‘Is that all?' asks Cam. Her voice is a wee bit warmer.

‘No.' I can't believe I'm going to ask. ‘I know I've no right to ask you this. But is there any way you'd … No …' I know it's hopeless. ‘It's OK, forget it. I'd better head on.'

‘No,' she says. ‘Ask me.' She puts down the saddlecloths and comes over to me. Her green eyes are challenging. Does she want to hear me ask to give her the satisfaction of telling me to piss off? I wouldn't blame her. But if she does I haven't lost anything.

‘Can I come back and work here?'

She doesn't answer. I twist the reins I'm holding. I realise I should have said please but it's too late now.

‘Declan, I trusted you. You let me down.'

‘I know.'

‘I gave you a chance in a yard full of valuable animals when most people wouldn't have had you near the place. Oh yes – I knew about the joyriding. I've known from the start.'

‘So how come you…?'

‘It doesn't matter. The fact is I don't know if I can ever trust you again.'

‘I swear you can.'

‘I didn't think you'd ask me to my face,' she says. ‘I didn't think you were brave enough.' Her face relaxes. ‘OK, if I give you a month's trial – no wages, all the dirty jobs and no riding until I think you've earned it – could you stick it?'

I square my shoulders, trying not to wince. ‘Yes.'

‘I mean it about the dirty jobs – you're going to be lifting more horse shit and cleaning more tack than you ever imagined.' She looks me up and down. ‘When are you going to be fit to start? You're pretty crocked up, aren't you? Not much use to me like that.'

‘Couple of weeks?'

‘That'll do. Now scram. I have horses to get ready. Oh, and Declan?' For the first time she smiles. ‘Welcome back.'

And I head back to the shed where Vicky and Rory are waiting for me and the horses are chewing their haylage like they have all the time in the world.