… I refrain from swearing, even under my breath. He just isn’t worth it. No more tears. No more pain. It’s over.
When I returned to Talyton St George to work at the surgery after my GP training, I went out with Henry. Like Shane, he used to be a member of the Talyton branch of the Pony Club. He was a couple ofyears older than me and was in all the Pony Club teams: eventing, showjumping and tetrathlon. He was ambitious even then and had his heart set on becoming an international eventer, which he’s achieved, riding for the British team at the European Eventing Championships on one of his more experienced horses.
Tall, gangly, blond and blue-eyed, he always had the girls flocking around him. At Pony Club camp, he never mucked out or cleaned his tack or his boots. There was always some willing volunteer to do it for him. But I wasn’t one of them, something he pointed out to me when we met again eighteen months ago, and maybe it was something I should have heeded when he was pursuing me like a huntsman after a fox.
I went out with him for several wonderful months. We had so much in common with the horses. It was perfect, too good to be true. But soon Henry was off in pursuit of his next prey, his new groom, although I didn’t find out about it until I turned up at his flat one evening to find his new lover spanking him with a horsewhip.
I wanted to do more than spank him. I was furious, embarrassed and devastated, and in spite of his attempts to dismiss it as an isolated incident, a moment of weakness, I drove away, blocked his number on my mobile and refused to see him again.
I can hear the ripping sound of Velcro being pulled apart as Mum removes Willow’s travel boots.
‘How about catching up sometime, Nicci?’ Henry says. ‘For old times’ sake?’
‘In your dreams, Henry,’ I say sharply.
‘You could make my dreams a reality,’ he wheedles. ‘Come on. You’re so bloody serious. What’s wrong with having a bit of fun?’
Because it wasn’t a bit of fun for me, I want to say, but I know it isn’t worth it. Henry will never understand.
‘Are you attached, or something?’ he says, his expression still hopeful.
‘Well, yes, I am actually,’ I say quickly, grabbing the opportunity to put him off.
‘Anyone I know?’
‘I’m not saying because it’s none of your business, but I do have a boyfriend. I have done for a while,’ I elaborate. ‘Did you really think I’d sit around moping over you for the rest of my life?’
‘Go on. Who is it?’ Henry persists. ‘You know I won’t believe you if you don’t tell me. Is it one of your doctor friends?’
‘If you must know,’ I say stiffly, ‘it’s Matt Warren.’ I’m not sure what’s come over me. I wouldn’t normally dream of making something like that up, but then Matt has hinted that he likes me.
‘Matt, the vet?’
‘Satisfied?’
‘Surprised.’ He smiles ruefully. ‘He’s kept that one quiet.’
I keep my mouth firmly shut as Henry continues, ‘I’d better get on and warm up. This is one of my novices. What do you think?’
‘He’s a good-looking sort.’
‘I see you’re still flogging a dead horse.’ Henry lookstowards Willow. ‘You really need something bigger and with more scope.’
‘She does a good test.’
‘But she’s inconsistent jumping. You can’t make a horse more careful.’
‘I’m not going to give up on her.’
‘You should have a couple of youngsters coming along behind.’
‘If wishes were horses …’
‘Good luck.’ Henry turns his horse on a sixpence. ‘You’re going to need it,’ he adds over his shoulder as they walk away.
‘I never did like that boy,’ Mum says when I start stripping off my sweatshirt and waterproof trousers to reveal my shirt and jodhs.
‘He’s hardly a boy any more.’ I grin at her. ‘You thought he was amazing when we were going out together.’
‘Did I? I don’t remember,’ she says, but I’m sure she does. ‘Hurry up, Nicci.
When I returned to Talyton St George to work at the surgery after my GP training, I went out with Henry. Like Shane, he used to be a member of the Talyton branch of the Pony Club. He was a couple ofyears older than me and was in all the Pony Club teams: eventing, showjumping and tetrathlon. He was ambitious even then and had his heart set on becoming an international eventer, which he’s achieved, riding for the British team at the European Eventing Championships on one of his more experienced horses.
Tall, gangly, blond and blue-eyed, he always had the girls flocking around him. At Pony Club camp, he never mucked out or cleaned his tack or his boots. There was always some willing volunteer to do it for him. But I wasn’t one of them, something he pointed out to me when we met again eighteen months ago, and maybe it was something I should have heeded when he was pursuing me like a huntsman after a fox.
I went out with him for several wonderful months. We had so much in common with the horses. It was perfect, too good to be true. But soon Henry was off in pursuit of his next prey, his new groom, although I didn’t find out about it until I turned up at his flat one evening to find his new lover spanking him with a horsewhip.
I wanted to do more than spank him. I was furious, embarrassed and devastated, and in spite of his attempts to dismiss it as an isolated incident, a moment of weakness, I drove away, blocked his number on my mobile and refused to see him again.
I can hear the ripping sound of Velcro being pulled apart as Mum removes Willow’s travel boots.
‘How about catching up sometime, Nicci?’ Henry says. ‘For old times’ sake?’
‘In your dreams, Henry,’ I say sharply.
‘You could make my dreams a reality,’ he wheedles. ‘Come on. You’re so bloody serious. What’s wrong with having a bit of fun?’
Because it wasn’t a bit of fun for me, I want to say, but I know it isn’t worth it. Henry will never understand.
‘Are you attached, or something?’ he says, his expression still hopeful.
‘Well, yes, I am actually,’ I say quickly, grabbing the opportunity to put him off.
‘Anyone I know?’
‘I’m not saying because it’s none of your business, but I do have a boyfriend. I have done for a while,’ I elaborate. ‘Did you really think I’d sit around moping over you for the rest of my life?’
‘Go on. Who is it?’ Henry persists. ‘You know I won’t believe you if you don’t tell me. Is it one of your doctor friends?’
‘If you must know,’ I say stiffly, ‘it’s Matt Warren.’ I’m not sure what’s come over me. I wouldn’t normally dream of making something like that up, but then Matt has hinted that he likes me.
‘Matt, the vet?’
‘Satisfied?’
‘Surprised.’ He smiles ruefully. ‘He’s kept that one quiet.’
I keep my mouth firmly shut as Henry continues, ‘I’d better get on and warm up. This is one of my novices. What do you think?’
‘He’s a good-looking sort.’
‘I see you’re still flogging a dead horse.’ Henry lookstowards Willow. ‘You really need something bigger and with more scope.’
‘She does a good test.’
‘But she’s inconsistent jumping. You can’t make a horse more careful.’
‘I’m not going to give up on her.’
‘You should have a couple of youngsters coming along behind.’
‘If wishes were horses …’
‘Good luck.’ Henry turns his horse on a sixpence. ‘You’re going to need it,’ he adds over his shoulder as they walk away.
‘I never did like that boy,’ Mum says when I start stripping off my sweatshirt and waterproof trousers to reveal my shirt and jodhs.
‘He’s hardly a boy any more.’ I grin at her. ‘You thought he was amazing when we were going out together.’
‘Did I? I don’t remember,’ she says, but I’m sure she does. ‘Hurry up, Nicci.
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