At three o'clock, when the horses were dozing and the lads were either copying them or had made quick trips to Harrogate with their new pay packets; when stable life was at its siesta and only I with my broom showed signs of reluctant activity, Patty Tarren walked in through the gate, across the tarmac, and slowed to a halt a few feet away.
She was wearing a straightish dress of soft looking knobbly green tweed with a row of silver buttons from throat to hem. Her chestnut hair hung in a clean shining bob on her shoulders and was held back from her forehead by a wide green band, and with her fluffy eyelashes and pale pink mouth she looked about as enticing an interruption as a hard-worked stable hand could ask for.
"Hullo, Danny boy," she said.
"Good afternoon, miss."
"I saw you from my window," she said.
I turned in surprise, because I had thought October's house entirely hidden by trees, but sure enough, up the slope, one stone corner and a window could be seen through a gap in the leafless boughs. It was, however, a long way off. If Patty had recognized me from that distance she had been using binoculars.
"You looked a bit lonely, so I came down to talk to you."
"Thank you, miss."
"As a matter of fact," she said, lowering the eyelashes, 'the rest of the family don't get here until this evening, and I had nothing to do in that barn of a place all by myself, and I was bored. So I thought I'd come down and talk to you. "
"I see." I leant on the broom, looking at her lovely face and thinking that there was an expression in her eyes too old for her years.
"It's rather cold out here, don't you think? I want to talk to you about something… don't you think we could stand in the shelter of that doorway?" Without waiting for an answer she walked towards the doorway in question, which was that of the hay barn, and went inside.
I followed her, resting the broom against the doorpost on the way.
"Yes, miss?" I said. The light was dim in the barn.
It appeared that talking was not her main object after all.
She put her hands round the back of my neck and offered her mouth for a kiss. I bent my head and kissed her. She was no virgin, October's daughter. She kissed with her tongue and with her teeth, and she moved her stomach rhythmically against mine. My muscles turned to knots. She smelled sweetly of fresh soap, more innocent than her behaviour.
"Well… that's all right, then," she said with a giggle, disengaging herself and heading for the bulk of the bales of hay which half filled the barn.
"Come on," she said over her shoulder, and climbed up the bales to the flat level at the top. I followed her slowly. When I got to the top I sat looking at the hay barn floor with the broom, the bucket, and the rug touched with sunshine through the doorway. On top of the hay had been Philip's favourite play place for years when he was little. and this is a fine time to think of my family, I thought.
Patty was lying on her back three feet away from me. Her eyes were wide and glistening, and her mouth curved open in an odd little smile.
Slowly, holding my gaze, she undid all the silver buttons down the front of her dress to a point well below her waist. Then she gave a little shake so that the edges of the dress fell apart.
She had absolutely nothing on underneath.
I looked at her body, which was pearl pink and slender, and very desirable; and she gave a little rippling shiver of anticipation.
I looked back at her face. Her eyes were big and dark, and the odd way in which she was smiling suddenly struck me as being half furtive, half greedy; and wholly sinful. I had an abrupt vision of myself as she must see me, as I had seen myself in the long mirror in
October's London house, a dark, flashy looking stable boy with an air of deceitfulness and an acquaintance with dirt.
I understood her smile, then.
I turned round where I sat until I had my back to her, and felt a flush of anger and shame spread all over my body.
"Do your dress up," I said.
"Why? Are you impotent after all, Danny boy?"
"Do your dress up," I repeated.
"The party's over."
I slid down the hay, walked across the floor, and out of the door without looking back. Twitching up the broom and cursing under my breath I let out my fury against myself by scrubbing the rug until my arms ached.
After a while I saw her (green dress rebuttoned) come slowly out of the hay barn, look around her, and go across to a muddy puddle on the edge of the tarmac. She dirtied her shoes thoroughly in it, then childishly walked on to the rug I had just cleaned, and wiped all the mud off carefully in the centre.
Her eyes were wide and her face expressionless as she looked at me.
"You'll be sorry, Danny boy," she said simply, and without haste strolled away down the yard, the chestnut hair swinging gently on the green tweed dress.
I scrubbed the rug again. Why had I kissed her? Why, after knowing about her from that kiss, had I followed her up into the hay? Why had I been such a stupid, easily roused, lusting fool? I was filled with useless dismay.
One didn't have to accept an invitation to dinner, even if the appetizer made one hungry. But having accepted, one should not so brutally reject what was offered. She had every right to be angry.
And I had every reason to be confused. I had been for nine years a father to two girls, one of whom was nearly Patty's age. I had taught them when they were little not to take lifts from strangers and when they were bigger how to avoid more subtle snares. And here I was, indisputably on the other side of the parental fence.
I felt an atrocious sense of guilt towards October, for I had had the intention, and there was no denying it, of doing what Patty wanted.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was Elinor who rode out on my horse the following morning, and Patty, having obviously got her to change mounts, studiously refused to look at me at all.
Elinor, a dark scarf protecting most of the silver- blonde hair, accepted a leg up with impersonal grace, gave me a warm smile of thanks and rode away at the head of the string with her sister. When we got back after the gallops, however, she led the horse into his box and did half of the jobs for him while I was attending to Sparking Plug. I didn't know what she was doing until I walked down the yard, and was surprised to find her there, having grown used to Patty's habit of bolting the horse into the box still complete with saddle, bridle, and mud.
"You go and get the hay and water," she said.
"I'll finish getting the dirt off, now I've started."
I carried away the saddle and bridle to the tack room, and took back the hay and water. Elinor gave the horse's mane a few final strokes with the brush, and I put on his rug and buckled the roller round his belly. She watched while I tossed the straw over the floor to make a comfortable bed, and waited until I had bolted the door.
"Thank you," I said.
"Thank you very much."
She smiled faintly, "It's a pleasure. It really is. I like horses.
Especially racehorses. Lean and fast and exciting. "
"Yes," I agreed. We walked down the yard together, she to go to the gate and I to the cottage which stood beside it.
"They are so different from what I do all the week," she said.
"What do you do all the week?"
"Oh… study. I'm at Durham University." There was a sudden, private, recollecting grin. Not for me. On level terms, I thought, one might find more in Elinor than good manners.
"It's really extraordinary how well you ride," she said suddenly.
"I heard Mr. Inskip telling Father this morning that it would be worth getting a licence for you. Have you ever thought of racing? "
"I wish I could," I said fervently, without thinking.
"Well, why not?"
"Oh… I might be leaving soon."
"What a pity." It was polite; nothing more.
We reached the cottage. She gave me a friendly smile and walked straight on, out of the yard, out of sight. I may not ever see her again, I thought; and was mildly sorry.