Authors: Lyndon Stacey
Gideon was absolutely delighted with it. This was the moment that made all the hours of hard work seem worthwhile - until the next time. He drove home with it wrapped in soft cloth and a wealth of bubble plastic, and with Duke in mind, decided to leave it stowed safely at the Priory when he took Pippa's car back.
There was nobody about in the yard when Gideon arrived, but as he let himself through the back door into the kitchen he found not only Pippa but also Giles and Rachel, apparently in hot debate over the parentage of Fanny's puppies.
'Ah, Gideon. Just the man,' Giles said, seeing him come in. `Come and give us the benefit of your learned opinion. I say these pups are no more purebred Labrador than I am, but Pippa refuses to see it.'
`That sounds remarkably like, "Gideon, come and take sides with me against my sister,"' he commented warily. `I'm no expert on puppies.'
`Well, come and look anyway,' Pippa urged. `They must be Lab. I paid a fortune in stud fees.'
It was the second time that day he'd heard that particular protest, Gideon reflected, as he obligingly approached the huge, and much-chewed, wicker basket that housed Fanny and her six pups.
The puppies, five weeks old now, squeaked and wriggled across one another in mock aggression, two of them tumbling out on to the rag-rug as they wrestled. Gideon regarded them judiciously for a long moment, aware that three pairs of eyes watched his face for a clue as to his thoughts.
`Well,' he said cautiously, `as I said, I'm no expert but they have got rather long noses, haven't they? And one of them looks suspiciously brindle.'
Two howls greeted this observation. One unmistakably of triumph and one of something approaching anguish.
Gideon felt sorry for her. `I'm sorry, Pips, but it's true. I'd say dear Fanny pre-empted your expensive stud dog with a choice of her own. Maybe that lurcher from the farm.'
`Oh, God! And I thought I'd been so careful! How am I going to find homes for six bloody mongrels? That's what I want to know,' she wailed. `I've got orders for five blue-blooded Labradors. I can't see those people saying, "Oh, that's all right. I don't mind if he's got a long nose and a curly tail." Most of them want gundogs, for heavensakes.'
`Well, they are half-Lab,' Giles pointed out. `Tell them it's a new, dual-purpose breed - the Tarrant Labra-lurch. Ideal for gunwork or a spot of poaching.'
`Well, I think you're being really rotten!' Rachel said from her position on the floor, close to the basket. `All of you! They're beautiful puppies and I don't think it should matter whether they're purebred or not.'
`Absolutely,' Gideon approved. `A dog is a dog, as far as I'm concerned.'
`Oh, good!' Pippa said sweetly. `I'll put you down for one, shall
I?'
`Oh, go on, Gideon!' Rachel urged. `It would be such fun!' `For whom? You're not the one who'd have to mop up after it. No, I don't think it's a good idea. Elsa would be horrified, for a start. Look,' he said, judiciously changing the subject, `I only came in to ask if you've somewhere safe I could leave this for a few days.'
`Is it very important?'
`Well, yes,' Gideon said, surprised.
Pippa looked meaningfully from the package he held to the writhing black mass at her feet and back again. `I expect we could come to some arrangement.'
`That,' Gideon said, with narrowed eyes, `is blackmail, and I won't submit to it.'
Three days later, after a preparatory telephone call, a bitterly cold but bright morning found Gideon on his way to the Collinses' stud to deliver the portrait. Once again he had had to beg for the use of Pippa's car, and it occurred to him, not for the first time, that he really should look round for one of his own.
Mary had assured him that Tom would be safely away at a cattle market until midday, and as Gideon turned into the yard he could see that although Tom's car stood on the gravel, the livestock lorry was indeed missing.
Mary met him at the door, hugging herself against the chill of the wind and patently excited at the prospect of seeing the picture. He greeted her with a kiss and followed her gratefully into the warmth of the kitchen, feeling the slight twinge of apprehension that unveiling a portrait invariably produced in him. No matter that he'd done dozens and had never yet met with anything but delight from his clients; a portrait is such a personal thing, and although he always tried to reproduce every detail faithfully, he still lived in dread of seeing the excited anticipation in someone's face fade into disappointment.
This was not that day. After the usual, heart-stopping moment of blank assimilation, Mary's face lit up with something approaching wonder and she turned to Gideon with tears shining in her eyes.
`It's beautiful!' she breathed. `Thank you! Oh, thank you so much!'
Gideon let out the breath he had been unconsciously holding and smiled in return. `I'm glad you like it,' he said. `Let's hope Tom does.'
`Oh, he will,' Mary stated with certainty, still gazing'at the portrait. `He'll love it. I just don't know how you do it.' `Monkey see, monkey copy.'
`Oh, no. There's much more to it than that or we'd all be doing it. Oh, it's just perfect!'
Gideon watched her fondly.
`How are things now? Any better?' he asked gently.
Mary's rapt expression became wistful. `Oh, I don't know. Some days are better than others. Sometimes I think maybe I'm imagining a problem that doesn't really exist. Perhaps we're just getting old and growing apart. I don't know what to think any more.'
`Perhaps it's a kind of mid-life crisis. The male menopause or something.'
Mary laughed and said she'd better put the picture away out of sight, as their anniversary wasn't until the following week. `If you'd like to wander up to the yard, Anthony's up there somewhere,' she added. `I'll put the kettle on.'
Gideon readily fell in with this suggestion. He had in fact been hoping for a chance to see Sox again. Ever since Joey's disclosure about the copper-coloured horse with white legs, he'd struggled to equate the animal he'd worked with for all those weeks with the frightened and aggressive stallion of that memorable night.
Anthony made it easy for him. When Gideon reached the yard he found the boy in Sox's stable, working hard to make his glossy coat even glossier.
`You've had him clipped,' Gideon noticed, after the usual greetings had been exchanged.
`Yes, well, we've started riding him again - or at least, I have,' Anthony said. `He seems fairly sound now and he was getting so bored in the autumn with no mares to keep him busy.'
`He looks well.' How is he in himself? Have you been having any trouble with him? You know - mood swings or aggression?' `No.' Anthony looked surprised. `Why do you ask? He gets a bit high-spirited at times, but don't they all? Come in and see him. He'd like that, he's fond of you.'
Gideon did so and the stallion did indeed seem pleased to see him. Moreover, he seemed very relaxed and content, not even displaying any characteristic stallion one-upmanship. Gideon was pleased to find him so settled, but also perplexed. What could have happened to him that night to make him so distressed? What had they done to him?
`He seems very happy. What a difference from when I first saw him after the accident. His new line of work must be suiting him.' `He's back to his old self,' Anthony said, replacing the stallion's rugs before untying him. He slapped the shining neck and turned away as Sox began to pull at the hay in his net.
Gideon passed on the message from Mary about the kettle. 'Right-oh. I'll just put this stuff in the tack room and I'll be with you.'
Gideon watched the lad move about the yard and was struck by his quiet efficiency. `I expect your dad'll be glad when you finish college and can help him full-time,' he commented as they began to walk back towards the house.
Abruptly, Anthony's face set into harder lines. `You'd think so, wouldn't you?' he said. `It's all I've ever wanted to do, and he knows that, but now he turns round and says it'd be better if I went away to another stud to gain experience for a couple of years.'
Gideon pursed his lips. `I suppose there might be some advantages but I should've thought he'd want you here. Especially since he hasn't got anyone else on site, so to speak. Is this a new idea?'
`Well, he did mention it in passing a few months ago but I made it clear that I wasn't keen and he never followed it up. I thought he'd forgotten it.' The boy made a sound of pure frustration. 'in the old days he was always reminding me that the stud and the farm are my future. That I should learn all I could about it. Now, he says my education is the most important thing. He even wanted me to go away to boarding school but Mum put her foot down.'
`Well, you must admit, farming's in a bit of a mess at the moment. It seems to be one crisis after another. I mean, it can't necessarily be regarded as the secure future it once was, can it? I expect your dad just wants you to get a good basic education that you can fall back on, if needs be.'
`Oh, I'm taking my education seriously, don't you worry,' Anthony said. `I've just started my second term of a business
studies course at night school, and when I've finished that I'm doing one in book-keeping. By the summer, if everything goes to plan, I should have A-levels in maths, computer-aided design and biology. I think I'm doing my bit. Taking responsibility for my own future. I feel I'm mature enough to decide where I want to go from here.'
Gideon was impressed. `Have you tried talking to him?'
The boy snorted. `That's just the trouble - he won't talk! Or won't listen, more like. If I corner him about it, he just resorts to telling me to do as I'm told, as if I'm still a kid. Sean says I'll be eighteen soon and will be able to do what I want, but that's no help if what I want is to stay here. If I wanted to leave, it would be easy!'
Gideon shook his head. `I must admit, it's an unusual situation. With most kids it's the other way round.'
`Yeah, I suppose . . .' Anthony paused, leaning on a field gate and gazing across the grassy acres through eyes narrowed against the cold wind. In the near distance a herd of red and white cattle grazed, all facing the same way, as cattle often will.
`This is all I want. To stay here and learn the business, and then someday take over from Dad when he retires. You'd think he'd be pleased! It's like he's changed lately. Mum's noticed it, too, even though she tries to pretend everything's okay. I know she gets upset sometimes.'
Gideon couldn't think of anything comforting to say. If he'd thought it would do any good he would have offered to speak to Tom himself, but knew him well enough to realise he wouldn't welcome any interference, and that once he'd made up his mind there was little hope of changing it.
He leaned on the gate beside Anthony, watching the cattle. `Beef cattle?'
`Mm. Herefords.'
`You haven't got a bull, have you?'
Anthony laughed, the bitter lines disappearing in an instant. `Where've you been for the last fifty years? Haven't you heard of AI?'
`Oh, yes, of course. Who does that, Rosetti?'
`No, a chap called Petersen. Have you heard of him? Comes from your way.'
Gideon hadn't. `I thought you said Sean Rosetti did AI?F
'Not any more. He used to work for one of those centres, pioneering new techniques, but he gave it up to set up his own practice. But anyway, he's just our horse vet. We have a different vet for the cattle.' He turned his head as the sound of a heavy vehicle reached them. `Dad,' he said flatly. `Talk of the devil!'
They swung away from the gate and went down to meet him. `How did the sale go?' Anthony asked. `Are prices picking up yet?'
Tom grunted. `Well, they made their reserve, but only just. Twenty percent less than I'd hoped for.' His eyes narrowed as he took in Gideon's presence. `What are you doing here? Every time I go out for a few hours you turn up! Are you having an affair with my wife?'
`I would if she'd have me, but she won't,' Gideon said, hoping his credit would stretch that far.
Apparently it would. `Cheeky bugger!' Tom said, punching him lightly on the arm. `Well, as you're here you'd better come in for a cup of tea.'
Gideon was just breathing a sigh of relief for the safe negotiation of what could have been a sticky moment, when Anthony said, 'Gideon was asking if we'd had any trouble with Sox. I told him he's been absolutely fine. He has, hasn't he?'
Tom stopped and turned. `What do you mean, trouble? What kind of trouble?' he asked, abruptly.
Gideon could cheerfully have throttled the boy at that moment, though it was said in all innocence.
`Nothing in particular. I was just thinking aloud what an incredible recovery he'd made,' Gideon lied. `How's his stud work going?'
Tom frowned. `Very well. Why do you ask?' Just interested. I'm fond of the lad.'
`Aye, well, you've seen his get. How do you think his stud career is going?'
`Very well, I'd say,' Gideon assured him.
`Well, the mares have no complaints and he's happy in his work,' Tom confirmed, opening the farmhouse door and standing back to let the others precede him. `If you can call it work!'
Gideon hoped fervently that Anthony would let the subject rest at that, and whether by luck or intuition, he did.
Rachel was out working again that day, and when Gideon thankfully removed himself from the emotionally charged atmosphere of the stud, he took Pippa's car home and spent the rest of the day helping her with the horses.
With a jumble of half-formed possibilities churning round in his mind, it was almost inevitable that Gideon should offload some of them on to Pippa. By the time they stopped to thaw out with a mug of coffee in the kitchen at five o'clock, she was in possession of most of the facts and as determined to get to the bottom of the riddle as he was.
`But what makes you think it was Sox that night?' she asked, curling her fingers gratefully round the hot mug. `You told us it wasn't a horse you'd worked with before.'
Gideon shrugged. `I didn't think it was . . .'
`I mean, there must be other chestnut stallions with white legs, for heavensakes! Stephanie Wainman's got one, for a start. It's not that unusual a colour combination, is it?'