come out to the stables again with me, except that I thought he had had enough of the cold for one day and so shut him in, despite his reproachful expression.
Lady was eager to get her head in the bucket, though I had to hold off Billy, who wanted to share. Even little goats, I found, were surprisingly strong. I’d taken a handful of biscuit-shaped things from a container marked with his name that I’d spotted in the tackroom, but he was more interested in the mash.
Horses give off a surprising amount of heat, don’t they?
* * *
Merlin greeted my return with huge relief, as if I’d been gone a week, so I expect the poor old thing was feeling terribly confused.
When I’d thawed out I phoned Laura, but only for long enough to give her the number here to ring me back: clients don’t appreciate you running up huge phone bills, but obviously using my mobile was going to be tricky. I only hoped Sharon was exaggerating the frequency of the phone lines going down . . .
‘How are you getting on?’ Laura asked. ‘What are the animals like?’
‘The dog’s an old lurcher, a sweetie called Merlin – he’s a bit lost and lonely, I think, because he keeps following me around. The horse is a white Arab.’
‘Grey, horses are never white.’
‘You can call it grey, but Lady’s as white as snow, with huge, dark eyes. She’s very old, quiet and gentle, so I don’t think looking after her is going to be a problem – except she’s living with this little goat no-one mentioned.’
‘A goat ?’
‘It was in the loosebox with her, so I suppose it’s keeping her company. It’s got a bit of the evil eye and it kept trying to eat her hot mash. I had to hold it off, and it was surprisingly strong.’
‘Hot mash? You had to cook dinner for the horse?’
I described the cordon bleu horse mash and confessed my worry about looking after the elderly, delicate-looking mare, and she made reassuring noises.
‘I’ll tackle mucking out and grooming tomorrow. I only wish I’d been interested in that sort of thing while you were having riding lessons, though I expect it’s just a matter of common sense.’
‘You wheelbarrow the old bedding to the manure heap, and then spread a layer of new straw – simple. Mucking out will be good exercise, too.’
‘Yes, I expect it will.’
‘So, what’s the house like?’
‘Lovely. I’ve only had a quick tour around so far but I can see it’s mostly Jacobean, though part of it looks much older. The central heating isn’t very efficient so I’ll probably light a fire in the big inglenook fireplace in the sitting room tomorrow and that should warm the house through. My bedroom isn’t too bad, because it’s right over the kitchen with the Aga.’
‘How big is this place?’
‘Bigger than I expected, but I’ve cooked for house-parties in much larger and grander houses. The sitting room is huge and looks like it might have started life as a medieval hall, but then two new wings have been added and lots of dark panelling and moulded ceilings.’
‘That sounds pretty grand to me!’
‘You could fit the floor space of my entire house in the kitchen wing with room to spare,’ I admitted.
‘That’s a stately home as far as I’m concerned – and you are in sole possession, the lady of the manor.’
‘Yes, but I know my place: the hired help’s bedroom is in the service wing, though there’s a bathroom opposite with a decent electric shower. I expect I’ll spend most of my time in the kitchen and just take a quick daily walk round the rest of the house to check everything is all right.’
‘Sooner you than me, rattling around alone in a spooky old house in the middle of nowhere.’
I laughed. ‘You know I don’t believe in ghosts or the supernatural! No, I’ll be fine. The cleaner showed me round when I arrived, but she isn’t coming back because she’s got another job. She won’t be any loss, though, because the place is totally filthy and neglected,
Lady was eager to get her head in the bucket, though I had to hold off Billy, who wanted to share. Even little goats, I found, were surprisingly strong. I’d taken a handful of biscuit-shaped things from a container marked with his name that I’d spotted in the tackroom, but he was more interested in the mash.
Horses give off a surprising amount of heat, don’t they?
* * *
Merlin greeted my return with huge relief, as if I’d been gone a week, so I expect the poor old thing was feeling terribly confused.
When I’d thawed out I phoned Laura, but only for long enough to give her the number here to ring me back: clients don’t appreciate you running up huge phone bills, but obviously using my mobile was going to be tricky. I only hoped Sharon was exaggerating the frequency of the phone lines going down . . .
‘How are you getting on?’ Laura asked. ‘What are the animals like?’
‘The dog’s an old lurcher, a sweetie called Merlin – he’s a bit lost and lonely, I think, because he keeps following me around. The horse is a white Arab.’
‘Grey, horses are never white.’
‘You can call it grey, but Lady’s as white as snow, with huge, dark eyes. She’s very old, quiet and gentle, so I don’t think looking after her is going to be a problem – except she’s living with this little goat no-one mentioned.’
‘A goat ?’
‘It was in the loosebox with her, so I suppose it’s keeping her company. It’s got a bit of the evil eye and it kept trying to eat her hot mash. I had to hold it off, and it was surprisingly strong.’
‘Hot mash? You had to cook dinner for the horse?’
I described the cordon bleu horse mash and confessed my worry about looking after the elderly, delicate-looking mare, and she made reassuring noises.
‘I’ll tackle mucking out and grooming tomorrow. I only wish I’d been interested in that sort of thing while you were having riding lessons, though I expect it’s just a matter of common sense.’
‘You wheelbarrow the old bedding to the manure heap, and then spread a layer of new straw – simple. Mucking out will be good exercise, too.’
‘Yes, I expect it will.’
‘So, what’s the house like?’
‘Lovely. I’ve only had a quick tour around so far but I can see it’s mostly Jacobean, though part of it looks much older. The central heating isn’t very efficient so I’ll probably light a fire in the big inglenook fireplace in the sitting room tomorrow and that should warm the house through. My bedroom isn’t too bad, because it’s right over the kitchen with the Aga.’
‘How big is this place?’
‘Bigger than I expected, but I’ve cooked for house-parties in much larger and grander houses. The sitting room is huge and looks like it might have started life as a medieval hall, but then two new wings have been added and lots of dark panelling and moulded ceilings.’
‘That sounds pretty grand to me!’
‘You could fit the floor space of my entire house in the kitchen wing with room to spare,’ I admitted.
‘That’s a stately home as far as I’m concerned – and you are in sole possession, the lady of the manor.’
‘Yes, but I know my place: the hired help’s bedroom is in the service wing, though there’s a bathroom opposite with a decent electric shower. I expect I’ll spend most of my time in the kitchen and just take a quick daily walk round the rest of the house to check everything is all right.’
‘Sooner you than me, rattling around alone in a spooky old house in the middle of nowhere.’
I laughed. ‘You know I don’t believe in ghosts or the supernatural! No, I’ll be fine. The cleaner showed me round when I arrived, but she isn’t coming back because she’s got another job. She won’t be any loss, though, because the place is totally filthy and neglected,
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