“Absolutely not. Nobody must know that your wife is inadequate!”
*
I have to put off my game of golf with Harring for a tedious afternoon with Jemma.
“Hey, Haz! Hello, it’s me. Look, I can’t make it this afternoon. You’ll have to find someone else to play with.” All I hear is the roar of an engine in the background. “Haz? Did you hear me?”
“Yes, I did, I’m in the garage. I’m trying some set ups for my car. Well, that means I can bring the appointment with my tailor forward,” he pauses. “By the way, why is that? What are you up to today?”
“I’m busy with Jemma. Horse riding.”
“Parker! We’ve known each other for twenty-five years, you can avoid these coy metaphors with me! I see, you dirty boy, go get ridden by your wifey. Will you call me tomorrow for squash practice?”
If Harring weren’t my best friend, I’d hate him, but he’s one of the few people who make this routine bearable.
“I can’t tomorrow. I have polo training with the team on Tuesdays.”
“Then I could come to the club for a drink after you’ve finished,” he says, and hangs up.
I must teach Jemma how to ride, but she’s being quite uncooperative, to say the least. I had her summoned three times before she came down.
“They’re rerunningFriends. What’s so crucial as to require my presence?” She says with her usual arrogant attitude.
“Follow me.” After what she said, I don’t even feel like replying.
“Congrats Ashford, were you ever told that communication is your strong point?” She retorts sarcastically from behind me.
We manage to reach the stables without starting a fight, and I escort her round the courtyard while she utters shrieks of amazement, greeting the horses and addressing them as ‘lovely little creatures’.
“These are thoroughbreds, all sons of champions. They’re notlittle creatures, or little ponies with little braids in a little farm.”
Jemma ignores me completely, as she’s busy stuffing Westfalia, my mother’s favourite mare, with carrots.
“The high society season is full of events involving horses, so you’ll have to become as familiar as possible with them. I don’t mean that you’ll have to field master fox hunts yourself, but being able to keep your balance on a horse at the meet will be a start.”
“It’s so kind of you to give me the chance of elevating myself from my humble beginnings.”
“You are very welcome,” I reply.
“Ashford, I was joking,” she points out.
“I wasn’t,” I object.
“Yeah, all right, you never joke, I’ve noticed.”
“John has already tacked up two horses for us. You’ll ride Poppy and I’ll be joining you on Agincourt.”
“I like this one!” Jemma says, stroking Westfalia.
“Westfalia is my mother’s horse. And don’t say that, you’ll offend Poppy,” I reproach her.
Jemma comes towards me muttering to herself: “These names are so stupid.”
“They all have a meaning. Poppy is named after the Poppy Appeal, and Agincourt is named after the great battle Henry V won in 1415.”
“And Westfalia?”
“That’s where we bought her.”
