Keeping the Peace (32 page)

‘Oh, hello.’

He stopped beside her and arched a quizzical eyebrow. Unearthing a hand from his pocket he raised her chin with his thumb and forefinger.

‘What’s ailin’ ye,
a thaisce
?’

Pippa shrugged and looked away.

‘Just some personal problems. Nothing to worry about,’ she replied. He wouldn’t want to hear her financial woes.

‘Nothing to worry about?’ Finn echoed. ‘With a face longer than Peace Offering’s here, it doesn’t sound like it’s nothing. Want to tell Uncle Finn about it?’

Pippa’s next attempt at a smile was more successful.

‘No, it’s okay. Thanks though. I think I’m just going to go home now and have some hot chocolate. That’ll cheer me up I’m sure.’

Finn cocked his head to try get Pippa to meet his eyes.

‘Hot chocolate nothing. By the look of things you need a bottle of Jameson’s. Let me take you out for dinner.’

She shook her head. In her vulnerable state of mind, she was likely to become fonder still of the sympathetic Finn and knowing he was seeing this Cara Connolly character already would just complicate matters further.

‘Thanks, but I won’t. I’ve already got some food defrosted for tonight.’

‘Away with ye. You’ll be doing me a favour at the same time, you know. I’m at a loose end, another two days of my suspension to serve thanks to Leopard Rock’s attempt at dodgems the other day, so. You need some cheering up. At least let me take you out for a jar.’

Pippa wavered. Maybe unburdening all her worries onto Finn wasn’t such a bad idea. There was always Tash at the other end of the phone, but Tash always got Pippa’s burdens.

‘I have to cook that fish tonight otherwise it’ll go off,’ she tried once more.

‘Well then, you go home and have your tea and freshen up. I’ll do the same so I don’t smell like a stable and I’ll pick you up at eight. How’s that sound?’ His green eyes searched hers for a positive answer.

Yes, maybe telling Finn would be a good idea.

She nodded, grateful for his kindness.

Back at Hazyvale, Pippa trudged through from the kitchen to the lounge in her dressing gown and Snoopy slippers with her dinner. Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, she balanced her plate on her lap and switched on the television. She gasped. The image which greeted her saw her fried fish slide off her plate onto the floor with a wet slap.

How could she have forgotten this?

She watched, transfixed as the action unfolded onscreen.

‘He’s bleeding out! BP is one-eighty over one-twenty. Where is Feldman?’ cried the pretty paramedic rushing around a gurney and crazily beeping machines.

‘Last I saw of him he was shepherding a med student into the maintenance closet,’ replied a casual voice stepping into shot. ‘Maybe I can lend a hand in his absence.’

‘Who the hell are you?’

Pippa’s lip trembled as she waited for the response. The actor sauntered forward, his attitude in suave contrast to the panicked paramedic.

‘Doctor Fletcher,’ she whispered in unison with
Holby
City
’s newest addition.

Her appetite lost, she watched the rest of the medical drama in numbed silence. Ollie was heroic, saving two critical patients, snubbing a curt senior character with witty responses and she had to admit, looking very sexy in blue scrubs and stethoscope draped round his neck. Tears sprung from her eyes, blurring the credits as they rolled up the screen.

What was she doing? She’d thrown away her life in London all for a horse and now even that looked in jeopardy. Self-pity and loathing crumpled her face and she curled up on the sofa, hugging a cushion to her chest.

A rhythmic tap on the front door dragged Pippa from her well of gloom and, with a groan, saw it was ten past eight. She opened the door to Finn, looking down at her fidgeting Snoopy slippers.

‘My opening line was gonna be “Are you ready to paint the town red”, but I see I might be getting ahead of myself,’ he said, looking her up and down.

‘Sorry, Finn. I – I just got sidetracked. I’m sorry you’ve come all this way for nothing. I wouldn’t have been much fun anyway.’

‘Who says I’ve come all this way for nothing?’ He rubbed his arms and looked at Pippa hopefully. ‘Are you going to invite me in or leave me on the doorstep to catch my death?’

‘Sorry. Come in,’ she said, unable to keep the despondency out of her voice. She didn’t feel like playing the role of hostess. Nevertheless, she stood aside for her guest.

‘Stop apologising and tell me what the problem is – Jaysus! Have you been takin’ your frustrations out on your staircase? It’s got more loose boards than a jockey who’s had his teeth kicked in.’

Pippa followed his look of amazement at the offending bomb site. It really did look a mess. She looked away again and wandered into the lounge.

‘That’s what the problem is,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘We pulled up the carpet and found all the wood is rotten. I got a quote yesterday to replace it and it’s going to cost nine thousand pounds.’

Finn followed her to the sofa and removed her plate and fish fillet where now a fish-shaped patch of grease marked the newly sanded floor. He sat beside her.

‘Nine grand? That’s a bit steep.’

Pippa gave a mirthless snort.

‘It’s a staircase. Bound to be steep. But I can’t afford it
and
keep Peace Offering in training. So my only option is to sell him.’

‘But you can’t sell him,’ he protested. ‘Can’t you get a loan or something?’

‘No,’ she sighed, pulling at a thread on one of the cushions. ‘I’ve already got one which is going to be used up replacing the stairs, but I’ve still got the whole of upstairs to refurbish and the bank won’t lend me any more. I’ve got no choice.’

‘But Pippa, you can’t sell him. You had such big plans to run him in the Grand National. You’ve come this far, you can’t throw it all away now.’

Pippa shrugged.

‘I was being silly thinking he could win the Grand National. I was looking at the antepost betting the other day and there’s about two hundred horses listed! One bookmaker was quoting Peace Offering at five-hundred-to-one. Some other firms weren’t even giving a price, that’s how confident they are that he’ll even make the final cut.’

‘You’re not being silly at all,’ Finn said adamantly. ‘Peace Offering has got just as good a chance as any. Much of it is down to luck on the day.’

‘But we can’t even be certain that he’ll
be
there on the day. If there’s only forty places available, he might not even be good enough to get an entry.’ She looked at him, her swollen eyes swimming with despair.

‘All he needs is one good result and his handicap rating will shoot him right into contention,’ he insisted.

‘Still, it’s useless even talking about it. I can’t afford him,’ she sighed.

‘Have you spoken to Jack about it?’

She shook her head.

‘I’m not Jack’s favourite person at the moment. This cottage is stressing me out so much I haven’t been the best secretary in the world. It wouldn’t surprise me if he fired me even.’

‘Nonsense. Now you’re being silly. Jack wouldn’t fire you.’

Pippa snorted.

‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that.’

‘Believe me, Pippa, since you arrive at Aspen Valley, Jack has become a hundred times easier to work with. He’d have a mutiny on his hands if he let you go. Your smile is a little light relief for us all.’ He reached out and stroked her cheek. ‘You don’t know how unhinging it is seeing you without it now.’

‘I always seem to make Jack mad though,’ she said, dropping her gaze. She could feel the tears threatening again. ‘I mess up on the entries and declarations and appointments. Then just last week, I not only took out the brake light on his car, but I ruined Leopard Rock’s silks and then had the cheek to give him a bollocking about Emmie and Billy –’ She bit her lip, realising she had probably said too much.

‘Ah, Emmie and Billy,’ Finn smiled. ‘Yes, I hear you’re not the only one messing up.’

‘What do you mean?’ she feigned innocence.

‘I believe Billy has been doing some entering and declaring of his own.’ He gave a wicked smile and winked. ‘Don’t fret, you haven’t given away any secret. Billy told me he got Emmie up the pole.’

Pippa raised her hands and let them flop down on the cushion in resignation.

‘They’ve got such massive problems and here I am crying over this measly staircase and Ollie –’

‘Ollie?’

‘Well, not over him as such,’ she relented. ‘It was his first appearance on
Holby
City
tonight and seeing him again just reminded me of what my life used to be like. It might have been a bit mundane, but at least it was simple. I didn’t have to worry about anything really. But now…’

‘You changed your lifestyle. It was bound to come with its own set of challenges,’ Finn reasoned. ‘It hasn’t all been bad though, has it? You met me, after all.’ He gave her an encouraging smile and she managed a half-hearted laugh.

‘Yeah, what would I have done if I hadn’t met you? I know, the country hasn’t all been bad. I’ve had the chance to do some painting and I’ve had fun watching Peace Offering race, even if it is about to come to an end.’

‘Don’t be talking like that. It doesn’t have to end.’

‘But there’s no alternative,’ she said with a futile shrug. ‘I need to replace the staircase if I’m to sell the cottage and the only way I can do that is by selling Peace Offering. How else will I get the money?’

Finn thought for a moment, his brow furrowing.

‘I don’t know,’ he admitted.

Pippa shook her head, the half hope that Finn could think of some way she could keep her horse extinguished. The thought of him being owned by someone else, who was bound to love him less than she did, made the tears well up.

‘I’m going to miss Peace Offering. He’s such a kind horse even if he isn’t the most talented. Even if he doesn’t win another race, I’d still want to keep him, but…’

‘Don’t cry,
a thaisce
,’ Finn said, tucking a curling lock of her hair behind her ear. ‘Come here.’

Pippa allowed herself to be hugged, finding comfort in his sympathy. She felt another rush of self-pity flood through her as she thought how, had circumstances been different, she could let Finn become so much more than a friend. His shoulder was warm and strong, his arms around her gentle, his light touch stroking her hair so supportive. The silent tears were now laced with regret. She couldn’t have Finn even if she wanted him. Not only would it end when she sold the cottage and had to move, but there was Cara Connolly to think of as well. Pippa would never be The Other Woman.

Squeezing her eyes shut to stem the flow, she disengaged herself.

Finn cupped her face, brushing away a stray tear and shook his head.

‘You really don’t know how hard this is seeing you in this way. You’re too good a person to be made to feel this sad.’

‘I’m not good, Finn. Everything I’ve done these past few months has been for myself. Ollie was right. I have been selfish.’

‘I’m glad I never go to meet him properly otherwise he’d be sportin’ a socked jaw, you know. Did he really tell ye that?’

Pippa nodded pathetically.

‘Yet he never contributed by coming down here to help with the cottage or give you any support,’ he summed up. He stroked her cheek again. ‘He sounds about as useful as a chocolate teapot, to be sure.’

Pippa gave a watery smile.

‘There. That’s more like it,’ Finn encouraged. His eyes flickered to her lips and he leaned forward.

Pippa hesitated.

Finn paused and redirected his intended kiss to her forehead.

‘There now. I think you should get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.’

Pippa could feel a blush start to rise from her dressing gown collar and she got to her feet before it showed.

‘Maybe you’re right. Thank you for sitting here and listening to my problems. I’m sorry I haven’t been very good company.’

‘Stop apologising!’ he said, following suit.

She led him to the door and gave him a grateful smile.

‘Thank you.’

‘No, thank
you
.’ He grinned at her confused grin. ‘What firm did you say it was that quoted Peace Offering at five-hundred-to-one?’

Pippa’s returning smile was the most genuine of the night.

‘Good night, Finn.’

‘Good night, Pippa. Sleep well.’

W
ith the most pressing duties of a Saturday morning completed, Pippa leant back in her chair and watched the rain through the office window blur her view of the yard. The telephone had been strangely quiet all morning and apart from the usual calls from jockeys’ agents and a reporter who wanted a last minute quote from Jack on Virtuoso’s chance in that afternoon’s Denman Chase, there’d been nothing else to distract her. She’d tried to talk to Jack before he left for Newbury, but he was so preoccupied with his star horse that he’d told her it would have to wait until Monday. A whole day and a half of waiting to drop the bombshell loomed ahead.

Although, to be fair, Pippa reasoned with herself, it was more of a bombshell to her than it would be to Jack. Peace Offering’s presence at Aspen Valley probably wasn’t quite so important to him as it was to her. According to the internet there was a couple of National Hunt sales coming up and this time they must ensure his reserve was low enough for him to sell.

Pippa sighed, the sodden weather outside the office reflecting her mood inside. How would she cope with Peace Offering running someone else’s name and colours? Would he even race again or would he be sent to sale after sale until he was a broken wreck like Black Beauty? Uncle Dave had given her a copy of
Black Beauty
for her tenth Christmas. The tears had begun when Rob Roy was killed and were substantial enough to warrant flood warnings in the Taylor household when Ginger died. Needless to say, Dave was far from popular with her parents after this.

Feeling a lump swell in her throat as she realised how disappointed Dave would have been not to run Peace Offering in the Grand National, she bit her lip and clicked on her computer’s calendar for next week to distract herself.