Page 19

‘This one has the Olivers’ horses,’ Kit explained, indicating the building on the left. ‘The other is where some of the villagers have their horses on livery.’

Fliss nodded, making a beeline for the left-hand stable block. It was decorated for Christmas, with thick evergreen garlands draped above the entrance; inside, wreaths and stockings hanging from the wooden stable doors. There was a tack room off to one side, with its distinctive scent of polished leather, and Fliss peeped in to see shiny saddles on racks and looped bridles hanging from pegs on the wall. Memories of her teenage years came flooding back; oh, it had been too long a time since she had been on a horse.

The animals heard the approaching humans and pricked up their ears, putting their heads out curiously over the stable doors.

‘Hello, boy,’ Fliss murmured, as she approached the first door, which housed an enormous black horse with a white blaze and bristly whiskers. He blew softly through his nose as Fliss extended her hand, then stood patiently as she stroked his head. A brass plaque on the table door read: Hercules.

‘I’d forgotten how much I used to love to ride,’ Fliss said. ‘When Tara and I were kids, we’d spent hours out on the horses, going for miles across the countryside. They had a great stableman, Phil, who taught me to ride.’

‘You should take one of the horses out whilst you’re here,’ Kit suggested. ‘They’re mostly exercised by the grooms nowadays, I’m not sure how much the family use them.’

Fliss’s eyes lit up at the prospect of galloping across fields and leaping over hedges. She recalled how it used to feel as though she was flying, adrenaline charging through her body, perfectly in tune with the animal beneath her. ‘I’d love that,’ she breathed, moving on to the next horse, a magnificent grey mare with dark speckles on her face and neck, named Desdemona. She swished her tail impatiently, pushing her nose into Fliss’s hand.

‘I could come with you, if you’d like,’ Kit suggested.

‘Do you ride now?’ Fliss asked, ‘I don’t seem to remember you ever loving horses before.’

‘I had to learn for a role,’ Kit grinned. ‘I mean, there was a stunt double for the really tricky stuff with swords, but I know how to handle myself and I’ve grown to like horses, they are so emotionally attuned to the rider.’

Fliss’s eyes lit up with excitement. ‘I’d love to ride with you,’ she said, briefly imagining how good Kit would look in jodhpurs and riding boots, sitting astride a powerful steed. ‘Let’s do it one day.’

They moved on to the next stable, which housed a piebald gelding called Orlando who was stamping at the straw and pushing gently against the door, clearly eager to go outside.

‘When I used to ride here, I was obsessed with a horse called Apollo,’ Fliss recalled.

‘How could I forget?’

‘You remember Apollo?’

‘Oh yes. It was obvious from the way you raved on about him that he was the first guy to capture your heart,’ Kit grinned. ‘At times I felt like I was in competition with him.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Fliss laughed, batting away his words. ‘Although there’s nothing as intense as a thirteen-year-old girl’s feelings, believe me.’

‘He was your first love, right?’ Kit joked.

Fliss met his gaze, looking at him for a moment. ‘One of them,’ she said, her eyes dancing playfully.

They were approaching the end of the first row, where a magnificent palomino looked out hopefully.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t have any food for you,’ Fliss apologised. ‘I’ll ask Mrs Matthews for some apples and carrots and come back tomorrow, I promise.’

Kit was a few steps ahead of her, and she heard him call her name. ‘Fliss …’

Something in his voice alarmed her. ‘What? What is it?’ But when she turned to look, Kit was smiling. She caught up with him at the final stall and looked inside to where an elderly chestnut horse was lying on the floor. It lifted its head as Fliss approached and whinnied gently, before awkwardly getting to its feet.

‘Oh my God!’ Fliss gasped, as tears sprang to her eyes. She looked at Kit in disbelief, then looked back at the horse. ‘Apollo, it is you, boy, isn’t it?’

Kit nodded at the brass name plate on the door, his eyes soft. ‘Looks like you found him.’

‘I can’t believe it!’ Fliss exclaimed, as the old horse slowly came across, whinnying with pleasure, placing its head over Fliss’s shoulder as though going in for a hug.

‘Looks like he remembers you, too’ Kit smiled, as Fliss laughed in joy and disbelief, flinging her arms around Apollo’s neck and burying herself in his mane. He had that distinctive earthy, musky smell, mingled with the sweetness of hay, and Fliss could only stare at him in wonder, marvelling at what a beautiful, intelligent creature he was.

‘He was almost still a baby when I first rode him,’ Fliss told Kit, as she rubbed the white blaze on Apollo’s face. ‘He was two or three, I think, which would make him just over thirty now. Wow, you’re an elderly fellow, aren’t you?’ she murmured. She leaned over the gate and slid the bolt, stepping into his stable, running her hand along his flanks and across his back as though unable to believe that he was real.

‘Remember the fun we used to have?’ she whispered, as his ears pricked to attention. ‘Running so fast it felt like we were flying. Wading through streams and stopping for picnics. I’d always have some treats for you. I wonder if you remember that too. But I imagine your galloping days are over now, aren’t they, darling?’

Apollo stood attentively, as though taking in every word, understanding in those dark brown eyes that had grown rheumy with age.