Barefoot (4 page)

*************

The days passed and Toni felt increasingly frustrated stuck at home. Lauren was on her way to Spain for Easter, and the rest of her friends all seemed busy with riding and shows. The yard wasn’t a particularly pleasant place to be either.

She had tried putting the hot poultices on Grace, but found it tricky one-handed, and Jen soon took over caring for the mare instead. Toni couldn’t really tell if Grace was getting any better. But at least she didn’t seem to be getting any worse.

‘How about keeping me company and coming shopping?’ Her Aunt B phoned one day to try to tempt her out. ‘We could go into Cheltenham. Have some lunch as well.’

Toni was instantly suspicious. ‘Has Dad been telling you I need rescuing?’

B hesitated. ‘He’s worried about you, darling. We all are.’

Arabella isn’t.

Toni pretended to give her aunt’s suggestion some thought. But she hated shopping. The crowds upset her and she couldn’t understand how people liked to browse. If she needed anything she got in and out as quickly as possible.

‘I don’t think so, thanks anyway.’

But B wasn’t put off so easily. ‘OK, if not Cheltenham, how about a mini-trip out. Just to Poplar Farm. We haven’t been there for ages.’

Toni smiled in spite of herself. Poplar Farm had lambs for toddlers to bottle-feed and Shetland ponies to pat. She was fifteen, but it reminded her of when she was really young, and her eyes suddenly swam with tears. She weighed up the options.

Staying around the yard. Arabella sticking the knife in at every opportunity.

Or go out with B – who was embarrassing but well intentioned. Always kind. No contest.

‘OK. Poplar Farm it is.’

‘I’ll pick you up in an hour.’ B sounded hugely relieved. Toni knew she would be straight on the phone to her father, reporting her success.

It would have been so easy to go to Cheltenham. And then she would never have met Cal.

When they arrived at Poplar Farm they were both shocked.

‘Gracious.’ B looked round in awe. ‘This place has certainly changed.’

Gone was the old wooden shed which had been the café. In its place a purpose-built oak and glass building stood proudly, with tables spilling out onto a patio. Young children swarmed through an adventure playground, and mothers pushed buggies along neat pathways around the animal pens.

Happy families, Toni thought bitterly, instantly regretting her decision to come.

‘A farm shop!’ B’s voice was loud and Toni gritted her teeth as several heads turned. Her aunt was a large woman, who tried to disguise her weight by wearing huge multi-coloured cardigans she knitted herself, with the end result she always stood out in the crowd.

Toni suddenly wanted to be as far away from her as possible. ‘You shop. I’ll go and sit down.’

B frowned and Toni knew she had sounded rude. ‘I’m sorry,’ she tried to rescue it. ‘My ribs hurt – that’s all.’

‘Of course. You must be in so much pain, darling.’ Her aunt looked relieved by the explanation. ‘Do whatever you want. I’ll come and find you when I’ve finished.’

Toni couldn’t find an empty table outside in the early spring sun and, giving up, wandered down by the animal pens instead. Children crowded round the lambs, shrieking with excitement. At the far end, several Highland cattle grazed in a field alongside the same two Shetlands Toni remembered from when she was young.

A horse lorry was parked in the farmyard beyond
, and in the far right corner something else caught her eye. Instead of the usual arena, there was a circular pen constructed out of high post and rail fencing.

And in it, a boy and a horse.

A sign on the five-bar gate clearly said ‘
Private’
. Toni considered it for a minute, then opened the gate anyway and edged cautiously into the yard. Away from the public’s gaze, everything suddenly seemed tired and dilapidated. She picked a path over crumbling concrete and past a pile of rusty machinery.

A gust of April wind lifted up an empty fertiliser bag, then deposited it in front of her, making her jump. She took a deep breath and moved on in the direction of the circular pen, finally stopping where she was shielded by the horse lorry and couldn’t be seen.

The boy was between sixteen and eighteen, she reckoned, his light-brown hair worn a bit too long. He was wearing old jeans instead of jods, a checked shirt and no riding hat. The horse was a skewbald cob, perhaps a cross, as it seemed less stocky than most and stood at a good seventeen hands. The boy wandered around the pen, and the horse followed him. Toni puzzled over what exactly he was doing. There didn’t appear to be a pattern to his movements, but it left an impression they were dancing together. She found herself holding her breath as she watched them.

It was mesmerising.

Graceful and fluid.

He twisted and turned, and whatever he did, the horse did too, as if it couldn’t bear to be separated from him. The boy never actually seemed to look at him, the whole time keeping his gaze to one side. Finally, when they both came to rest in the middle of the pen, he turned to face the cob and began to stroke him, running his hands over his shoulders and hindquarters.

Toni left the shelter of the lorry, forgetting entirely she was a trespasser. The boy looked up and saw her. ‘I’m sorry.’ The fact she had intruded struck her. ‘I probably shouldn’t have been watching.’

He gave a small shrug. She couldn’t tell whether that meant he was pissed off. Deciding it probably did, she turned to go.

‘You want to meet him?’ His voice stopped her.

Meeting his eye, she saw a challenge there. As sweat trickled down his face, Toni felt her stomach flip. Most of the boys she knew were skinny, but this guy was pure muscle. She stepped closer to the arena, and the gelding approached cautiously, but stopped short of the fence and her outstretched hand.

She could feel the boy watching her every move and tried to stay chilled. ‘That was awesome. How did you make him do that?’

‘Ever heard of join-up?’ He pushed his hair out of his eyes. It badly needed a cut.

Toni shook her head.

‘If you speak their language, then they want to follow you.’ He looked away again, as if he had said too much.

‘It was beautiful to watch.’ Toni tried to encourage him to say more.

‘You know horses?’

‘I compete.’ She thought she saw a look of contempt flash across his face.

‘That how you got that?’ He pointed at the sling. ‘Competing?’

She shook her head. ‘More like practising. One of those random accidents you don’t see coming.’

‘Yeah, well most accidents are like that.’ They were both silent. ‘He’s not sure about you,’ he added, nodding to the cob.

‘What’s his name?’

‘Rebel.’

‘How old is he?’

‘Only three. I’m just about to start backing him.’

Toni looked up at the cob. ‘He must be over sixteen hands already.’

‘Seventeen. He’s part Clydesdale.’

That explained it.

‘Cool.’

‘Toni!’ B’s strident voice carried across the yard and Toni winced.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m guessing that’s you?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘My aunt. We’re meant to be having lunch. It was good to meet you.’

He turned instantly and began to put a head collar onto the cob, leaving her feeling disappointed. She headed back across the dirty yard towards B, almost reaching the five-bar gate when he called after her, ‘I’m Cal, by the way.’

‘Toni,’ she shouted back.

They stood and grinned at each other across the yard for a few moments. Then he led Rebel out of the pen and back into his field.

‘Who
was
that gorgeous young man?’ B asked at once.

Toni shrugged. ‘You know as much as I do. His name is Cal.’

‘OK,’ B laughed. ‘I get the message.’ She linked her hand through Toni’s good arm. ‘Let’s go and eat. And I’ll show you what I bought. That farm shop is fabulous.’

When they drove back into the De Carteret yard later, Toni was struck by how different it was to Poplar Farm. Neatly trimmed grass verges lined the drive and all the fields were divided with well-maintained post and rail fencing. There were two large barns, one with Arabella’s own event horses and the two ponies, the other housing ten liveries, all kept by wealthy women who liked to ride, but very definitely did not like the work involved.

Arabella ran the whole thing like a military operation. The international sized outdoor arena was floodlit and an expensive horsewalker kept the horses fit in the worst of the winter weather. A fifty-acre cross-country course completed the facilities, along with three lorries able to transport six horses at a time. Each was fully equipped with a table and seats, with plenty of room to sit and eat when it was raining, even sleep if necessary on the three-day events.

Toni waved B off with relief and stood for a few moments, watching Arabella in the arena, coaching one of her eventing team, making her do a pirouette over and over again. It was the run-up to Badminton now and everybody in the yard was focused on the competition.

Toni watched the horse and rider with detachment.  She knew the level of skill involved, but dressage was her least favourite practice. It involved precision and an attention to detail completely out of character for her. What she never dared admit to anyone was how unnatural it felt.

Cross-country was her favourite.

Out on the cross-country course, she felt free.

But for Arabella it was all about competition, and she insisted her daughter did showjumping and dressage as well. Toni saw the years stretched ahead of her, confined by the arena, and felt her heart constrict.

The music was playing now and the rider began her routine from the top. It was graceful, in its own way. But Toni realised, with astonishment, the few short minutes she had seen Cal in the pen with the cob, had been more beautiful still.

She played with her phone, wondering whether to contact Lauren. She was probably at the airport already, killing time. It would be a good excuse to get in touch. She composed the text in her head.

‘Meganews. I’ve met a guy.’

But she didn’t send it. She knew she’d tell Lauren when she got back.

For now, she wanted Cal to be her secret.

*****   Three *****

A few days later she was bored beyond belief. Although Arabella was away at a show, her presence still lingered in the yard, suffocating Toni.

She was sitting in the tea room, flicking angrily through old copies of
Horse and Hound
she had read a million times before, watched by the yard cat sitting crouched on the table, when Jen stuck her head in the door.

‘I’m off to Marnie’s to get some chaff. Need anything?’

Marnie’s was a large tack and feed store just off the bypass. When Toni shook her head, Jen disappeared again. Suddenly the trapped feeling threatened to overwhelm Toni, and she jumped up and ran after her.

‘Wait! Can I come along just for the ride? I need to get out of here.’

‘Sure. Hop in.’ Jen leant across and shoved open the passenger door to the Land Rover, smiling sympathetically. ‘Injuries are a pain.’ She turned up the radio and began to sing along badly.