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The knock on the door made them both jump guiltily, along with the three terriers, who all hit the floor running and scrambled for pole position, hurtling towards the door like cannonballs, yapping at each other and the as-yet unseen visitor. Lottie had long since learned that you let the dogs get to the door first, unless you wanted bruised shins and burst eardrums. Her early habit of jumping to her feet when the doorbell or phone rang had long since departed after a few catastrophic collisions that had taught her just how unstoppable a terrier in full flight was. It was safer to fall off a bucking horse than be swept along by a pack of rampaging Jack Russell terriers.
The whirlwind of brown and white fur went into reverse as the door swung open to reveal a neatly dressed Pip, sleek blond hair in a neat ponytail, clothes that suggested she wasn’t about to get stuck into mucking-out duties. She was waving a copy of the Daily Mail.
‘You have just got to see this—’ She stopped dead on seeing Todd, then shoved the paper in his direction with a smirk. ‘This picture of our surfer dude.’
Lottie got to the paper before Todd did and spread it out on the pine kitchen table. It was the perfect homage to a Thelwell cartoon. The barrel bodied Merlin was flying (along with the bright-pink balloon that was attached to his tail), the terrified Todd clinging to his mane, long legs stuck out in a futile attempt to put the brakes on.
‘Oh and Dom said he needed to track you down, Lottie. Where’ve you been all morning? I’ve been trying to call you.’
Todd was frowning as he stabbed a finger at Wizard of Oz? ‘Hey, what’s with the funny headline?’
Which meant Lottie didn’t need to explain she’d spent the best part of the morning in bed, and it also meant she didn’t have to wonder why Dom was so determined to track her down.
‘Merlin, the horse is called Merlin, you know as in King Arthur?’
‘Oh, right.’ He obviously didn’t know.
‘Wizard as in Merlin, Oz as in Australian?’ Pip shook her head and gave up the explanations as a lost cause when she saw his blank expression. ‘You even got in the Manchester Evening News, which normally doesn’t do horse stuff.’
‘Didn’t know the press were invited to the party.’ He held the paper at arm’s length, unsure whether to be pleased at what had to be a spectacular entrance to English country living or disappointed with the pink balloon, which really wasn’t his style. ‘Anyhow, what’s with all the fuss? You never seen a stranger in this neck of the woods before?’
‘Nothing quite like you, no.’ Pip suddenly relented and smiled. ‘I’m the press.’ She might have forsaken the daily grind of a journalist’s life in London, but writing was her life and Pip had found that working as a freelance in Cheshire was remarkably lucrative, given the fact that the place was awash with scandals and celebrities.
Tippermere might appear tranquil, but underneath the surface lurked secrets begging to be uncovered. And as for nearby Kitterly Heath, you didn’t even have to delve under the surface. In a place where footballers brushed shoulders with rock legends and film stars it was more a case of picking which stories to publish and which to ignore. And Todd’s abrupt entrance at the wedding had been an unexpected bonus.
‘Oh yeah.’ Todd looked at her speculatively, the more relaxed Pip had caught him unawares. He’d forgotten all about the slightly jaded chief reporter version of Pip that he’d first met in Barcelona. All that seemed a long time ago. ‘I thought you did fashion shows and red-carpet events, not country weddings and horsey stuff.’
Pip ignored him. ‘And Billy is a celebrity around here, well not just here, everywhere. You know, Olympic medals and all that jazz.’
‘So if he’s the celeb, why’ve they got my face on the front page?’
‘Well it isn’t exactly your face.’ Lottie said reasonably, taking another close look at the photo, which wasn’t quite as blurred now she’d got used to daylight. ‘You can actually see more of your bum than anything.’ She giggled and had a closer look.
‘Your arse is the one on the front page because you’re funnier. Billy can ride a horse and they’ve got fed up of running his bonking pictures.’ Lottie flinched, aware that Pip wasn’t intentionally being hurtful. ‘But a picture like that is one in a million.’ Pip tried not to look too smug, but she was pleased. She’d just known it would be worth shelling out to get Bob the photographer there, and he’d earned every penny of the three bottles of wine bribe it had taken to persuade her editor to send him.
‘Not sure how to take that, mate.’
‘I’d just go with the flow if I was you.’ Lottie, who had decided to risk the coffee, sat down and cradled a large mug of it in her hands. ‘You’re a novelty, they’ve got loads of pictures of Dad playing the fool. And Wizard of Oz isn’t a bad headline, he got Bronco Billy.’ She sighed. Even now she hated those headlines that had followed her around at school.
‘Really?’ He paused and stared at her. ‘What was that about then? Does he do rodeo riding as well?’
‘No, you don’t want to know. Honestly.’
‘I hardly knew you at all, did I?’ And it was true, thought Todd. The Lottie he’d met in Australia, the Lottie he’d taken to Barcelona with him had just been a fun-loving girl looking for a good time. He knew nothing about Tippermere, her family, her real life, apart from the brief comments about horses, boredom and being taken for granted. Okay, he had known she came from the countryside, and he did know her dad was big in the horse world. Oh yeah, and he’d had an inkling about the whole gentry thing. But it didn’t seem to have anything to do with the girl he’d briefly known. He’d just seen flip flops and fun. And, well, a great deal of booze and her glorious body.
Yesterday had been a bit of an eye-opener seeing her surrounded by men who might look out of place amongst body boarders, but seemed more than in control on the back of a horse. Which was one experiment he wasn’t going to repeat in the near future. Talk about chafing! His hand automatically went to his crotch.
And boy could they drink. Even the old girl she’d called gran had been knocking them back. In five hours he reckoned he’d seen more of Lottie (in the fully clothed sense) than he had in five weeks on a beach. And it suited her. He was seeing her in a whole new, and very appealing, light. Which was not how his mind was supposed to be thinking.
‘Think I’ll go and find Tab, then, shall I?’ Sensing he was on the road to screwing up again if he wasn’t careful, Todd was up out of his chair as he swilled down the last of his sandwich with a gulp of tea. ‘Nearly forgot. That posh dude was after you. Something about her ladyship. Catch you later, babe.’
Pip stared at the newspaper headlines. ‘Is he for real?’
‘Well, I was hoping that last night was a nightmare, or you’d slipped me some hallucinogenic drugs.’ Lottie slumped into the comfy chair next to the Aga and let Tilly cuddle up next to her. She stroked the dog’s muscled-up little body. ‘I can’t still be dreaming, though. I wouldn’t have a hangover like this, would I?’
‘No dream. Do you think Tab is going to give him a lift to the airport?’
Lottie gnawed the side of her fingernail with a worried expression on her face. ‘He said somebody was putting him up, said he was hanging around for a bit.’ She groaned. ‘She can’t be taking him back to her place, can she?’
‘You’re kidding. Can you imagine Tom’s face if his little girl arrives home with a man like Todd, well any man, really? And he adores you, so all you’d have to do was say the word and Todd would be out.’
‘I suppose so.’ Lottie hugged the little dog closer and carried on worrying.
‘Does it bother you, him being here?’
‘It’s not that. I mean I don’t know exactly what he said to Rory, but he doesn’t mind. And it’s weird, but it just seems like it was years ago, and it was fun, but…’ She shrugged, then grinned. ‘I’ve got Rory now.’ Then the smile faded as she remembered. ‘And I haven’t got time to look after him or anything, and I don’t really know why he’s here, to be honest.’
‘Mm. Maybe he’s bored? But look on the bright side, I’m sure somebody would be happy to take him off your hands.’
‘What am I supposed to do? I can’t just ignore him, and he doesn’t know anybody else.’ She paused, as she suddenly realised that he did know somebody else.
Pip caught the look and laughed nervously. ‘Oh, no.’
‘But you know I promised Uncle Dom I’d take on the running of the Estate, and I said I’d move into Tipping House soon,’ she glanced nervously at the door. This was something she still hadn’t managed to discuss with Rory properly. She had mentioned it, more than once, but they hadn’t exactly set a date. She’d thought that after the hugely successful wedding had taken place would be an ideal time, but it hadn’t been quite gone as planned. Either the wedding or the chat, given that Todd had stormed into the ceremony, and Rory had decided to liven up the proceedings that came after. If he’d only be serious just for one moment it would be so helpful.
‘Tell me you’re not serious, please Lottie.’
‘Well, er I was being serious. Is that a problem? I mean, you know him, and all you need to do is—’
‘No way.’
‘He’ll soon get bored and you can put him on a plane?’
Pip laughed at the note of optimism in Lottie’s voice. ‘Lottie, you know I love you, but you know me and Todd never really hit it off.’
‘Will you at least think about it? Can you imagine what Uncle Dom would say if he found out about Barcelona and Todd getting arrested?’
‘I think he might already know.’ Pip’s tone was dry.
‘Gran thinks it’s entertaining, but you know what Dom is like, he can be so…’
‘Stuffy?’
‘Particular. He’ll think I’m not being serious enough. And have you any idea what he wants? He’s acting weird, phoning me even more than normal, and this morning he actually sent me a text. An actual text.’
‘No idea.’ Pip stared at Lottie, and squashed her original intention for coming. She’d wanted to talk to somebody and Lottie had seemed the ideal person. But suddenly she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t the type to unburden herself and if she was going to she had to be sure it was the right person, right time, right place. She was the stable one, Lottie was the scatty one. She was the one who never let relationships get to her. Lottie was the one who had ex-boyfriends who left her in the lurch only to reappear months later. And Lottie was the one who would soon be inheriting a mansion complete with a leaking roof and mountainous debts. The one who needed good friends she could rely on.
But the niggles that Pip had squashed the first time she’d stripped herself bare in front of Mick had come back with a vengeance. And each day they were getting harder to ignore.
‘Are you okay?’ Lottie was frowning.
‘I don’t think he loves me.’ It was out before she could stop it. So much for right time, right person.
Lottie jerked upright from her slouch, letting go of the dog abruptly, her mouth dropping open as the little dog landed on the floor and started to run around in circles after her tail, barking. ‘You don’t mean—’
‘Any chance of a cup of—’
‘Go away.’ The two girls shouted out in perfect unison and Rory, one foot hovering over the threshold of his own home, beat a hasty retreat, taking the dogs with him.
‘Oh blimey.’ Lottie was mortified. She’d never shouted at Rory before, let alone at the same time as Pip, which had made it pretty forceful. ‘I better go and explain, hang on, don’t go away.’ And she was across the kitchen and out of the door, still barefoot, before Pip could speak. ‘You won’t will you? I won’t be a sec, honest. Stay, stay there.’
Pip sighed, wondering why she’d ever thought a quiet heart to heart was possible in such a chaotic place. She studied the photos on the wall opposite. Rory on the back of one of his favourite horses took pride of place, being presented with a cup by Princess Anne. He looked dashing and fun, tawny eyes dancing, pure joy spread across his open features, even in the face of royalty. And even the royal in question was entranced.
Why couldn’t life be more bloody straightforward?
Pip made a sudden decision. Elizabeth was the one she should be talking to.
She had just got out of the front door when Rory appeared, coming in the opposite direction, Lottie clinging on to him and squealing.
‘He said he’d give me a piggy back across the gravel, it’s a bugger in bare feet.’ She was red-faced, which had to have more to do with where Rory’s hands were than it had to do with sore feet. ‘You’re not going are you? Oh please don’t. Oh Pip, I thought, but you had…’
‘I’ll catch up with you later, urgent call.’ It was only as she pulled out of the yard on her bright pink Vespa, nearly mowing down a jogging passer-by, that she remembered she’d promised to get Lottie to call Dom. Oh well, she had mentioned it, not that Lottie would remember, and she’d remind her again later. After she’d worked out just why her normally organised life had suddenly become an emotional whirlwind. And what she was going to do about it. About Mick.
***
‘You have to be the hardest person in Tippermere to get hold of, what have you been doing, Charlotte?’
Lottie who had finally given in and answered her phone (mainly because it wouldn’t stop ringing and the dogs steadfastly refused to eat it) stopped the examination of her feet, rubbed at the last bit of gravel and gave a worried sigh. ‘I’ve been here, Uncle Dom.’ She was only half listening as she watched one of the horses gallop enthusiastically around the paddock, kicking his heels in the air. A youngster, she really did need to work this morning even if she didn’t manage anything else.
‘Well, I asked that Australian chap to pass on a message if he saw you, and I asked Philippa, who is about the most reliable of your friends.’
Registering his tone, she picked up a pile of three-day eventing entry forms from the nearest chair, dropped them on the table and sat down. On the TV they always told people to sit down when there was bad news coming.
‘Charlotte, we have to talk. I’ve put this off as long as I can, but it can’t wait any longer. I’m coming to see you now, and don’t you dare disappear again.’
Chapter 5 (#ulink_ae3186ec-c681-504e-a6f5-3dbbc57de59c)
‘Amanda is expecting.’
‘Expecting what?’ Lottie only had a fraction of her attention on her Uncle Dominic, partly because the two-year-old horse on the other end of the lunge rope had a way of knowing exactly when you weren’t concentrating, and partly because she had absolutely no idea why Dom was there and suspected she was about to get a telling off for something. And she was following the strategy of pretending he wasn’t there in the hope he’d forget and go away.
She loved Dom, but she didn’t love the disapproving looks or the lectures when she didn’t quite come up to his very high standards. Which was quite often.
‘Charlotte, are you listening?’
‘Of course.’ She glanced his way, and the stern look and folded arms meant he wasn’t going to forget, or go away. The black horse, which someone had imaginatively named Badger due to the broad white stripe down his nose, gave an experimental pull on the other end of the rope.
‘She is expecting a baby.’
‘What?’ She spun around to face him properly, inadvertently flicking the lunge whip as she went so that it caught the youngster on his nicely rounded rump. The horse gave a squeal of what could have been evil intent, or glee, and did the type of fly buck that was more often seen at a rodeo.
Dom watched in silence as Badger followed through by putting his head between his knees and arching his back in an even more impressive one, and his one thought, before the animal charged forward, was that the horse had incredible athletic potential. A loop of rein was dragged through Lottie’s hand, catching the lunge whip on its way, which narrowly missed her head before she fully came to her senses and took a firmer grip, desperately trying to keep her footing in the middle of the circle as the horse tore around at a dizzying pace.
‘Hey up, Dom, what are you doing here?’ Rory arrived just as Dom was trying to decide whether to step in and rescue his only niece before she was accidentally garrotted, or corkscrewed into the ground, or whether he should trust in her ability to slow the horse down. As Tilly the terrier tore into the arena, desperate to join in the fun, dodging hooves and curses, he decided that if he didn’t do something within the next ten seconds man (well woman) or dog was going to die.
But, just as Dominic vaulted over the wall, the horse miraculously slowed to a trot, dropping its head in a show of subservience. Lottie laughed and finally managed to pick up the lunge whip.
‘Wow, did you see that power? He could demolish a cross-country course.’
‘That’s what I bought him for darling.’ Rory sounded satisfied.
‘He nearly demolished you.’ Dom’s tone was dry as he climbed back out of the arena. The master of control, he was never quite sure whether to be in awe of, or despair of, the totally chaotic girl, who somehow carried some of the same genes as him. ‘And I couldn’t see the power the speed he was going.’
‘He’s only a b—’ Lottie was about to say baby, then it hit her. The word that had caused the explosion in the first place. She walked up to the horse, holding it firmly at its head, the other hand patting the strong neck, and stared at Dom. ‘Amanda is, you are, you’re both…’
‘Expecting. Yes.’
‘A baby?’ Just to be sure.
‘Woohoo. Didn’t know you had it in you, Dom. Congratulations!’ Rory gave Dom a manly slap on the back and nearly launched him back over into the arena again. ‘It is yours, I take it?’ Dom arched an eyebrow, stared down his aristocratic nose and refrained from comment.
‘Amanda’s pregnant?’ Lottie wanted to make doubly sure.
‘Isn’t that what I said, Charlotte?’
It was, but she was still trying to get her head around the statement, which was damned tricky considering she saw Dom as: A – too stuffy and pernickety to have a baby (or even sex for that matter) and B – too old. After all he was her uncle.
‘But…’
‘And I need to talk to you about your gran and Tipping House. Charlotte, I do appreciate that you’ve started to take on some of the responsibility, but I’m afraid we really do need to speed the process along.’
‘Speed it along?’ Lottie, who by now had forgotten all about the horse, but got a smart reminder when it gave her hand a sharp nip.
‘It’s your inheritance, and although I know I said I’d carry on helping until you were ready, the ball is now in your court.’ He shrugged, looked apologetic. ‘I’m going to have to support Amanda, which means I need to be in her home, our home, at Folly Lake Manor. And,’ he leaned forward in a way she didn’t like at all, and sighed, ‘unfortunately Mother has been ill, which rather brings things to a head. She needs assurance that you’re in control and she doesn’t need to have any concerns about the estate and everything it entails.’
‘Ill? Gran isn’t ill, she was at the wedding, and –’
‘She hides it very well, but she’s getting too old for all the worry, whatever she says.’ The small frown he couldn’t hide worried Lottie. ‘The doctors say she’s had a small stroke, and the best way to help is for us to take the pressure off.’
‘I will, I will. I can go and help her, visit more, spend time up there, can’t we Rory?’ Lottie had wild, and totally impractical, thoughts about making soup and taking dictation, neither of which she’d ever done in her life, while Rory did manly thing like standing at the fireplace and supplying Elizabeth with perfect G&T’s.
‘It’s not about spending time with her, Charlotte. It’s about money.’
‘But you’ve already told me about the money. I’ve got a plan and we’re seeing the bank manager, and I—’
Dom sighed. ‘What we’ve discussed is just the tip of the iceberg. That estate needs managing, it needs a cash injection—’
‘I know, I’ve thought about how to raise money and—’
