Stable Mates. Zara Stoneley

don’t do consolation, betcha Lottie does though.’

      ‘I thought you could both try?’ He tipped his head on one side and Pip laughed.

      ‘In your dreams, you dirty boy.’

      ‘Can’t blame a man for trying.’

      ‘PIP.’

      They both stared at the explosion from Lottie, who obviously couldn’t wait any longer for an answer to her question.

      ‘Looks like she’s getting impatient, bit like me.’ Rory pulled her closer, until the sandpaper roughness of his unshaved cheek brushed lightly against hers and the teasing tawny eyes offered an invitation that she’d been tempted by more than once.

      Pip nudged him away. ‘You two deserve each other. Anyhow, what were you doing with my bloody phone again?’

      ‘It was you that picked up mine. Again.’

      ‘No, Rory. You were the one who left the yard in such a hurry last night to go off on your magical mystery tour with Lottie and the ginger wonder. I mean, how can anyone confuse this,’ she waggled the bright pink phone in front of him, ‘with this?’ And handed over his black one. ‘I’m surprised you even managed to load the right horse.’

      He grinned and gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘I never mix up my horses. Or my women.’

      ‘For fuck’s sake, will you two stop talking bollocks and tell me if someone has fucking died?’

      Pip sighed. ‘What on earth has got in to you?’

      ‘Please, just answer the question.’

      ‘Marcus. Amanda woke up in the early hours to find him stone-cold dead next to her. Well I’m not sure if he was actually cold, but—’

      ‘Pip.’

      ‘Okay, okay. She panicked and rang the first person she could think of, which was me. Or, in this case, you, Rory.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘I take it you weren’t exactly helpful or consolatory.’

      ‘She woke me up.’

      ‘Sure.’

      ‘And then I lost the phone when I sat up and hit my head, and all I could find were Lottie’s boobs.’

      ‘Stop. You’re not helping your case.’

      ‘Marcus is dead? He died?’ Lottie was trying not to jump from one foot to the other in agitation.

      ‘Yes, Lottie. He’s dead, died, the two tend to be linked.’

      ‘Christ, Dad will go apeshit.’ Lottie sank down on the ramp of the lorry and cradled her head in her hands. Oblivious to the now stamping Flash who had been expecting release from the confines of the horsebox and to be let out to grass. She looked up, a glimmer of hope still stirring. ‘You’re absolutely sure he’s dead?’

      ‘Well the funeral is in a week, so someone has seriously cocked up if he isn’t.’ Pip strode up the ramp past the dazed Lottie and started to untie the mare who knew that the competition ordeal was over and she was home. ‘I don’t get what the issue is. Your dad didn’t even like him anyway, did he? None of them did, apart from Amanda of course. Shift over or you might get one of Flash’s specials.’

      Lottie slid off the ramp and stood up slowly in front of the bemused Rory. ‘She’ll sell up, she hates horses.’

      ‘She might not actually hate them, poppet.’

      ‘You’re right, that’s worse. She doesn’t give a monkey’s.’

      ‘I don’t get you pair at all.’ With a clatter of hooves and an ear-shrieking whinny that threatened to burst Lottie’s eardrums, Flash came down the ramp and headed for her stable, coming to an abrupt halt when she reached the end of the lead rope, which still had Pip attached. A Pip who had stopped by the anguished-looking Lottie. ‘What’s the problem? Neither of you liked him, did you?’ She looked from one to the other. ‘I mean, you hardly knew him.’

      ‘I did know him. I saw him at the centre all the time, I used to bloody live there, remember?’ Lottie peered through her fingers. Liking him wasn’t the issue.

      ‘Well, to be fair, I don’t remember, because I wasn’t here then. But you weren’t pals, were you? You hardly even know Amanda, do you? But you look like one of your nearest and dearest has popped their clogs.’

      ‘But what if she sells up?’

      ‘So?’ Pip shrugged, and hauled back on the rope as the mare made a new dash for freedom. ‘Someone will buy it, I mean how many places like that come on the market? That equestrian centre must be worth an absolute fortune.’

      ‘Exactly. To a property developer.’ Rory caught hold of Flash’s headcollar to avoid her spinning round and knocking the already wavering Lottie to the floor. He understood the look on Lottie’s face, even if Pip hadn’t caught on. ‘If she sells to the first person who knocks on the door, then Billy has lost his yard and facilities, the pony club lose their venue, and the winter dressage and show-jumping competitions are gone forever. The place will be bulldozed and turned into a chavvy housing estate or a country theme park.’

      ‘Very succinct appraisal. You’re such a snob, Rory.’

      ‘But what about Dad?’ Lottie’s wail got lost as Rory’s defensive streak kicked in. To Tippermere, the Equestrian Centre was the heart of the village, to Billy it was something far more important. It was his life, and always had been, as far as Lottie could gather, since the death of the one person that had mattered most to him. Her mother.

      ‘This is Cheshire not bloody Essex, we wouldn’t even be able to hack down the lanes because they’d be snarled up with petrol fumes from 4x4s that are only used for the school run, and The Bulls Head would be renamed The Rampant Cow and serve mojitos and turkey twizzlers to the masses.’

      Pip laughed. ‘Don’t exaggerate, you sound a right nobby nimby. Anyhow, I’m sure Amanda wouldn’t do anything like that. And aren’t you being a bit selfish? Neither of you have asked how she is, or anything.’

      ‘How is she?’ Lottie looked up from the piece of hay she’d been frantically tying in knots, her mind still on Billy and what he’d do when he found out. If he hadn’t already.

      ‘That sounds so insincere Lots, she’s in bits, I mean how would you take it if you woke up and found the love of your life stiff at the side of you? And I mean stiff all over, not just where it matters.’

      ‘You’re calling me for being insincere and say something like that?’ Lottie dropped the wisp of hay and stuck her hands in her pockets. ‘Do you think he was the love of her life?’

      ‘Well she was very fond of him, it wasn’t just his wallet, though I’m sure that helped. It was a massive heart attack apparently.’

      ‘They weren’t? I mean, you know, at it? Do you remember that film where they were and the guy had a heart attack?’

      ‘I’m off if you’re going to talk films. Here, I’ll take her.’ Rory tugged the lead rope from Pip’s hand.

      ‘Goldie Hawn wasn’t it?’ Pip grinned. ‘On your way to comfort the grieving widow are you Rory, offer your services?’

      ‘Well neither of you are interested.’ He gave her ponytail a tug. ‘Maybe she needs a manly shoulder to cry on.’

      ‘You better shower first, you stink of eau de horse.’

      ‘Oh, God, you don’t think every man in the village will be making up to her now, do you?’ Lottie was gnawing at the inside of her cheek and looking even more worried than ever, her gaze fixed on Rory, who laughed. ‘It’s not bloody funny.’

      ‘As neither of you think she likes horses, then I think falling for a man who permanently stinks of manure, is covered in horse or dog hair and spends every waking