Page 41 of The House at Hope Corner
‘I have, all thirty-two years. And my dad grew up here too, we’re third generation.’
‘Blimey…’ Flora couldn’t even conceive of such a thing. Her own family was scattered to the far corners of the country and had been for years. A brother in Norfolk, where he ran a guesthouse with his wife, and her younger sister in Cornwall where she managed a gallery for a very rich businessman who she was currently trying to entice into her bed, without much success as it happened. Her mum had retired a couple of years earlier, where she was now living an idyllic life with her stepdad in a small village on the Dorset coast. And then there was Rowena, of course. She felt the familiar weight of guilt that settled on her every time she thought of her elder sibling. Maybe one day they would be able to resume the same easy relationship they had once shared. Flora frowned, thrusting the thought aside; she had no space in her head for it today.
They were driving up a long straight track with open fields on either side but, as they approached a stand of trees, Flora could see another set of gates protecting a large red brick house, much like Hope Corner, although at least four times bigger. As they swept through the gateway the courtyard opened up in front of them, a large expanse of gravel providing a turning circle in front of the house before disappearing in between two rows of long low buildings to the left. Several other vehicles were already parked in an area to the right and it was towards these that Caroline headed, lurching to a stop with a spray of chippings.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s go and get you sorted out, the girls are already here.’
Flora threw her a confused look, but Caroline was already climbing out of the car and she had no choice but to follow.
There was scarcely time to marvel at the grandeur of the double-height hallway before Flora was drawn up an oak staircase with a huge balustrade that led to a galleried landing on both sides. Her feet sank into deep carpet as she reached the top, hurrying towards to a door to the right that Caroline was holding open for her.
Caroline’s bedroom was vast and incredibly untidy. With its tall ceilings and double aspect it was a beautifully airy space, decorated in pale lemon and blue with soft furnishings to match. But the enormous double bed was unmade and heaped with clothes, as were an old blanket box at the end of the bed and an armchair in one corner. Even then, there were still clothes on the floor, and a large number of cosmetics and hair products had spread from the dressing table to the window sills and a mantelpiece over a cast-iron fireplace. Flora shuddered to think what Hannah would make of it. At least she and Caroline had something in common then.
Flinging open the doors to a large walk-in wardrobe, Caroline rooted around for a moment before pulling out a pale pair of jodhpurs and a striped blue shirt, which she then thrust at Flora.
‘There you go, I’m sure these will fit.’ She crossed to the window which overlooked the courtyard and peered down. ‘Oh look, Georgia has just arrived as well.’
Flora stared at her. Who the hell was Georgia?
It was clear that Flora wasn’t to be offered any privacy to get changed and, judging by the speed at which Caroline was moving, time was of the essence. With a grimace Flora pulled off her boots and began to peel off her leggings.
‘You mentioned the girls just now, Caroline,’ she said, as she danced about the floor trying to get her feet into the jodhpurs. ‘And now someone called Georgia… Am I right in thinking it’s not just you and I that are going to be riding?’
Caroline turned back, a puzzled expression on her face. ‘Oh, didn’t I mention it? The girls always come hacking with me in the morning… Chloe, Emilie and Georgia, so there’s just the four of us, well, five now you’re here. But I know you’ll love them. Gosh, we’ve been friends for… well years, since we were little.’
Flora gave a wan smile and heaved at the jodhpurs, which had glued themselves to her legs. ‘So you’re all experienced riders then…?’ She let the question dangle as she pulled her skirt down and, by some miracle, managed to get the jodhpurs done up. Stepping out of her skirt, she carefully laid it on a clear area of the bed. ‘Won’t that be a problem?’
‘Won’t what be a problem?’ Caroline came forward and picked up the shirt, handing it to Flora, who was pulling her old top over her head.
Flora waited until her head was free from her jumper before replying. ‘The fact that I don’t ride… Won’t that be a problem, seeing as how you’re all so experienced? Won’t I hold you up?’
Caroline waved an airy hand. ‘Oh, I don’t expect so. It’s not like we’re going to be performing dressage or anything, it’s just a gentle hack. I’m sure you can manage that.’ She grinned. ‘Oh, that looks much better, but do tuck the shirt in. It’s not the done thing to have everything all flapping about.’
‘I don’t think I can,’ muttered Flora. ‘There’s not really much spare room in here, Caroline,’ she added, tugging at the fastener at her waist.
‘Nonsense,’ replied Caroline. ‘You have a lovely figure, Flora. You might as well show your curves off.’ She eyed her closely. ‘Lie down on the bed if you can’t get the jodhpurs done up again. They’re meant to be skin-tight, and if you lie down and breathe in, it helps.’
Flora did as she was told. This really was not going to end well. She struggled back to her feet.
‘See, look,’ said Caroline. ‘That’s perfect!’ And she turned on her heels again. ‘Come on, let’s go and meet everyone.’
They were all blonde, all a size ten and Flora found it hard to distinguish between them. Chloe was slightly taller, while Emilie was the shortest, and Georgia had brown eyes not blue but, apart from that, they all had the same big, white-toothed smiles, peaches and cream complexions and laughed far too much at things that simply were not funny. And the worst thing was that Flora found herself doing it too. Within minutes her cheeks were aching from maintaining such a wide smile, and giggling in a high-pitched way she hadneverdone before.
The laughter stopped the minute she tried to get on the horse. She had already suffered the indignity of Caroline trying to find her a hat which would actually fit. Then a young lad whom Flora wasn’t even introduced to brought forward the biggest horse that Flora had ever seen. It was white, with big brown eyes that stared right into the very centre of Flora’s soul. Samson, she was informed, was a really gentle old boy, but that didn’t do much to allay her fears. Nemesis would have been a better name.
The simple matter of swinging her leg up and into the stirrup seemed an impossibility but, after several goes, she at least managed to get her foot through it, although the rest of her was going nowhere. By this time the others had all mounted their horses and, after several more attempts and an embarrassing exchange with the young lad, who didn’t know where to put his hands, Flora was still very firmly on the ground. No one was laughing, but then it was implied in the silence that dragged on longer and longer…
Eventually, Caroline got off her horse and led Samson over to a stone trough at the far end of the stable block which, with some help, Flora managed to stand on without falling in. From there, it was a short step up into the stirrup and a gentle swing of her leg over Samson’s back.
‘Easy-peasy,’ said Caroline.
To give him his due, Samson didn’t move a muscle throughout the whole shameful debacle, but Flora soon realised that this presented her with another huge problem. She had no idea how to make the horse go and, unaccustomed as she was to being not only so high up, but also seated on the back of a massive animal, she would have been perfectly happy if they had not moved at all.
Re-mounted on her own horse, Caroline doubled back to her and came alongside, scooping up the reins and making a clicking sound through her teeth that caused Samson to shift forward as she handed the reins to Flora.
‘You are a bit rusty, aren’t you?’ she said.
Flora stared at her. ‘Nope,’ she said. ‘Not rusty. Completely and utterly clueless…’
