The morning sunshine blinked through the bright spring leaves, and Caroline took a deep breath of freedom. A sense of peace washed through her as she felt the sun on her face.
And then there was Angus. She’d forgotten how sturdy and capable he was – just being with him felt comfortable, familiar. Their conversation flowed naturally as they talked about the coronation and Balmoral, about Annabel’s life in Camden.
Soon they turned into a farmyard. Surrounded by horse troughs and tractors, the yard was bathed in morning sunshine, a few chickens and geese pecking at grains between the cobbles, noisily scattering as the small group entered.
‘Anybody home?’ Angus called, and within a minute, a black-and-white sheepdog darted through from a side gate, rushing up to him to be greeted. ‘Hello, Meg, what have you done with your master?’
A moment later, a farmer came into the yard, a great smile on his face as he welcomed Angus. ‘How have you been keeping?’ he said, pumping Angus’s hand.
‘Lovely to see you, Gil.’
A whiskery man wearing riding breeches and a hacking jacket, Gil turned to the others. ‘And welcome to you, too! It’s a fine day for it!’ He turned to the girl. ‘You must be Annabel. Have you ever been on a horse?’
Annabel’s eyes widened. ‘You have horses?’
Angus beamed. ‘Well, I had to show you what I do in my spare time, didn’t I?’
‘Did you organize a ride?’ Delighted, Caroline could barely believe how the day was unfolding.
‘Why, of course!’ Gil chortled. ‘The man’s fair obsessed with horses.’
‘Speak for yourself, Gil,’ Angus replied with a laugh. ‘I spent four years with him in a POW camp, and all we did was talk about horses.’
‘Among other things,’ Gil said, his eyes going to Caroline. ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’
Unsure what to say, Caroline glanced at Angus. How much did Gil know about them? Did Gil know that Annabel was Angus’s child?
Along the low building, doors led into straw-filled stables. Large and small, the horses ranged from an old black stallion to a speckled white foal. Annabel darted over, but then warily stood back, unsure, until Angus showed her how to hold her hand towards the horse’s muzzle before patting its forelocks.
Gil led a few of the horses out into the yard, and a young stable lad appeared, saddling each one.
‘You’ve got Bonnie,’ Angus said as he lifted Annabel onto a beautiful chestnut pony. Gently, he showed her how to hold the reins, how to direct and stop the horse.
Inside, Caroline shoved down an irate grief that Annabel had missed out on having such a good father, especially compared to the dismissive murkiness of Frank.
Then Angus helped Caroline onto a dark-brown mare, his hands on her hips strong and sturdy. A ripple of a memory came back to her of another time when his hands were on her body. How she’d had to banish those thoughts of him from her mind, determined to battle on for Annabel’s sake.
Once they were ready, the two men mounted larger bays, and Gil led them through the farmyard onto a bridle path running alongside a field.
It had been years since Caroline had been on a horse. The vicarage had been next door to a stable, and a lot of her childhood had been spent riding. Funny how quickly it all came back to her, and before long she was in her element as they went uphill through meadows, where the yellows and whites of wildflowers dotted the hedgerows. A field had sheep with young lambs, gambolling joyfully, and Caroline was taken back to the girl she’d been. As she followed behind, watching Angus show Annabel how to sit, she felt awash with how right this was, for them to be together. For this one single day, she wasn’t going to let herself think about Frank, about her reality. She was going to revel in being here, together with these two most precious people.
After an hour or more, they trotted into a village square, Gil leading them through an arched lane behind a thatched country pub. There, they dismounted, tied the horses beside a trough, and went inside. The pub was traditional, with low beamed ceilings and the smell of sawdust and yeasty beers, a few locals chatting while they enjoyed a lunchtime pint.
Gil ordered the dish of the day for all of them, and soon plates of steaming beef pie appeared, along with fresh bread and lemonade.
‘How many horses do you have in Scotland, Angus?’ Annabel was thrilled with her pony. ‘Do you ride every day?’
‘Most days. The queen loves horses, so the Balmoral stables are always full. As the manager, I oversee it, and of course I get to train the horses, too.’ He grinned. ‘If you’re ever in the area, you should try them out.’
Even though she knew the answer, she spun around to Caroline. ‘Can we go? Please, Mum! Betty says that Balmoral is the queen’s favourite place, and you’ve never been there, have you?’
Caroline turned to Angus, his eyebrow raised in friendly challenge. His invitation was instinctive, she was sure, but a day trip into Kent was very different from nights away in Scotland – it would take them a whole day just to get there. He had to understand how impossible it would be.
‘The train tickets are too expensive, I’m afraid. And then there’s the cost of a guesthouse, too.’
But Annabel wasn’t having any of it. ‘We can stay with Angus, couldn’t we?’ She looked at him for confirmation, laughing at her own audacity.
And he grinned. ‘Of course you can! I’d be delighted to have you.’
