bushes, so I did …’
With a rueful pang, Tash realised that not long after pleasuring her amid the gorse bushes Niall had been pleasuring another in the same spot. He had never been particularly faithful and was notorious for transferring his affections from one woman to another with shameful speed. In Tash’s case, the other woman had been Zoe.
As the baby let out a series of kicks Tash touched her bump for comfort and felt a shudder of fear course through her, her cold face even clammier and her clanking heart raking indigestion up from her belly now. Any thoughts of infidelity and affairs made her very jumpy and afraid indeed.
Niall had moved on from reminiscing about nefarious activities behind West Berkshire gorse bushes and was contemplating matters at hand: ‘Have you got a name for the little fellow yet?’
‘Waitrose,’ Tash muttered, still thinking uncomfortably about betrayal.
On cue Zoe’s soothing tones came back on the phone.
‘Sorry about that – Cian is out like a light again, bless him. I hope Niall’s been keeping you entertained.’
‘Highly.’
‘Good. Now what were you saying before I had to break off – something about Hugo buying you flowers? That’s so tender and thoughtful. He must have turned over a new leaf. Fatherhood has obviously reformed his rakish ways.’
Tash could hear Hugo upstairs, ordering Beetroot out of the bedroom so loudly that Cora was bound to wake up.
‘Yes, he’s quite the new man these days. He’s promised to bring me a lovely present back from the Olympics if he wins gold.’
‘Oh, what’s that?’
Tash thought about handsome Lough Strachan with his Maori tattoos and fiery reputation, and smiled as she anxiously stroked her belly, which unborn Amery was now using as a bouncy castle. Things would get better after the Games, she was certain of it. With new staff starting they’d have lots more help on the yard and in the house; having Beccy in situ would help reconcile the increasing rift between Tash and her father. And Hugo would stop sneaking into Waitrose to buy flowers for whatever – probably perfectly innocent – reason. Yes, it would all get better after the Games, especially if he won a medal.
‘Undivided attention,’ she sighed. ‘He’s bringing me back his undivided attention.’
Zoe laughed throatily. ‘In that case we’ll definitely be cheering him on this end.’
Chapter 3
As a special reward for completing her A levels so diligently, Faith Brakespear was treated to a home-cooked spread of all her favourite things – her mother’s leverpostej pâté on rye bread, then roast lamb with all the minted and caramelised trimmings, and finished with treacle tart with toffee ice cream, all washed down with lashings of kir royale – during which she was toasted with an announcement that threw all her life plans into disarray.
‘I have arranged the best job for your gap year, kæreste ,’ her mother Anke revealed with the delight of a magician pulling a solid gold rabbit from a satin topper. ‘You will be the working pupil at Kurt’s dressage yard in Essex.’
‘Essex?’ Faith croaked stupidly, thinking how far away it was from Oddlode and her beloved riding coach, Rory Midwinter.
‘Big county near London,’ her stepfather Graham mocked kindly.‘Unusually high consumption of hair bleach and Turtle Wax. We used to live there, love.’
‘You will have to start at the bottom, of course,’ Anke was saying pragmatically, although her eyes sparkled with pride at achieving such a coup, ‘but Kurt knows how talented you are and how much you want to be a professional dressage rider, and you are his daughter, so he will make it happen for you, and Rio of course. Imagine what this will do for your chances, being his protégée?’
Long heralded as Britain’s best-ever dressage rider, Kurt Willis was a dashing blond cavalier who looked like a Ralph Lauren model and oozed pure, natural riding talent from every pore. Married
With a rueful pang, Tash realised that not long after pleasuring her amid the gorse bushes Niall had been pleasuring another in the same spot. He had never been particularly faithful and was notorious for transferring his affections from one woman to another with shameful speed. In Tash’s case, the other woman had been Zoe.
As the baby let out a series of kicks Tash touched her bump for comfort and felt a shudder of fear course through her, her cold face even clammier and her clanking heart raking indigestion up from her belly now. Any thoughts of infidelity and affairs made her very jumpy and afraid indeed.
Niall had moved on from reminiscing about nefarious activities behind West Berkshire gorse bushes and was contemplating matters at hand: ‘Have you got a name for the little fellow yet?’
‘Waitrose,’ Tash muttered, still thinking uncomfortably about betrayal.
On cue Zoe’s soothing tones came back on the phone.
‘Sorry about that – Cian is out like a light again, bless him. I hope Niall’s been keeping you entertained.’
‘Highly.’
‘Good. Now what were you saying before I had to break off – something about Hugo buying you flowers? That’s so tender and thoughtful. He must have turned over a new leaf. Fatherhood has obviously reformed his rakish ways.’
Tash could hear Hugo upstairs, ordering Beetroot out of the bedroom so loudly that Cora was bound to wake up.
‘Yes, he’s quite the new man these days. He’s promised to bring me a lovely present back from the Olympics if he wins gold.’
‘Oh, what’s that?’
Tash thought about handsome Lough Strachan with his Maori tattoos and fiery reputation, and smiled as she anxiously stroked her belly, which unborn Amery was now using as a bouncy castle. Things would get better after the Games, she was certain of it. With new staff starting they’d have lots more help on the yard and in the house; having Beccy in situ would help reconcile the increasing rift between Tash and her father. And Hugo would stop sneaking into Waitrose to buy flowers for whatever – probably perfectly innocent – reason. Yes, it would all get better after the Games, especially if he won a medal.
‘Undivided attention,’ she sighed. ‘He’s bringing me back his undivided attention.’
Zoe laughed throatily. ‘In that case we’ll definitely be cheering him on this end.’
Chapter 3
As a special reward for completing her A levels so diligently, Faith Brakespear was treated to a home-cooked spread of all her favourite things – her mother’s leverpostej pâté on rye bread, then roast lamb with all the minted and caramelised trimmings, and finished with treacle tart with toffee ice cream, all washed down with lashings of kir royale – during which she was toasted with an announcement that threw all her life plans into disarray.
‘I have arranged the best job for your gap year, kæreste ,’ her mother Anke revealed with the delight of a magician pulling a solid gold rabbit from a satin topper. ‘You will be the working pupil at Kurt’s dressage yard in Essex.’
‘Essex?’ Faith croaked stupidly, thinking how far away it was from Oddlode and her beloved riding coach, Rory Midwinter.
‘Big county near London,’ her stepfather Graham mocked kindly.‘Unusually high consumption of hair bleach and Turtle Wax. We used to live there, love.’
‘You will have to start at the bottom, of course,’ Anke was saying pragmatically, although her eyes sparkled with pride at achieving such a coup, ‘but Kurt knows how talented you are and how much you want to be a professional dressage rider, and you are his daughter, so he will make it happen for you, and Rio of course. Imagine what this will do for your chances, being his protégée?’
Long heralded as Britain’s best-ever dressage rider, Kurt Willis was a dashing blond cavalier who looked like a Ralph Lauren model and oozed pure, natural riding talent from every pore. Married
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