Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHARLEY

It takes me a few minutes to recall where I am when I wake up. As I stare up at the unfamiliar ceiling with old wooden beams, it all comes back to me and I smile. I lie in bed for a few minutes, content to let the realisation of what’s happened in just a few days wash over me.

The first thing I notice is the lack of dread, that heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach and the vise round my chest that makes breathing difficult.

Instead I inhale a lungful of clean country air.

I know I have a lot to do, and that brings its own nervousness; however, this is the bubbling of enthusiasm rather than fear and I can’t stay in bed any longer.

I’m actually excited to go to work. I actually laugh out loud at the thought as I rise, unwilling to stay in bed any longer. I shower quickly and make some toast.

I haven’t set up my coffee machine yet or bought pods, so I add them to a grocery list I’ve started. I’ll have to go shopping later. Thankfully the staffroom at the centre has a machine that makes excellent coffee, so I set off, making the decision to walk.

The morning is glorious, the sun is shining, and the spring air fragrant, as if it’s decided my first proper week here should start well.

It does feel like a fresh start. Every mile we got further away from Manchester, the lighter I felt, like a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

Talking to Gabriel had also been worthwhile.

I’d thought long and hard about bringing up Celeste, but I feel like I’ve just got my friend back and I didn’t want anything left hanging between us.

Clearing the air and finally getting the chance to apologise, and hearing Gabriel’s apology, feels like another chance at a fresh start for us, or rather a reset on our friendship, dialling it back to when life was easier and we thought our future was stretching out in front of us.

I turn at the sound of an engine behind me and see a UTV. Kirsty’s driving with Andrés and Simon squashed in beside her. They come to a stop.

“Morning. How’s the cottage?” Kirsty asks.

“So far so good, and thank you all again for your help last night.”

When we returned with the horsebox they came to help, Kirsty bringing her wife Alexa.

They all made short work of unpacking and moving my furniture into the cottage.

Gabriel ordered pizza, and when it arrived, Andrés invited us all next door to his and Simon’s cottage.

Alexa brought some beers and we sat around eating and chatting.

Then Andrés played the piano, a skill I had no idea he had, and he was very good.

I don’t feel like I’ve only got Gabriel back.

I think I might have found four new friends as well, and I went to sleep with my heart full.

Now, seeing them again, I can’t help grinning.

“No problem,” Kirsty says. “We’d give you a lift but we have no room.” She gestures to the UTV.

“It’s fine, I’m enjoying the walk.”

“I think Gabriel has a crew cab version of one of these,” Andrés says. “I’ll get him to swap it with us. It’ll be more useful.”

“I’ll see you soon.” I continue walking as I watch them drive off.

I’m close enough to see Andrés and Simon get out at the centre and Kirsty drive away, presumably towards the stables.

I’ll see her again soon as she’s getting Silver Arrow ready for the lesson I have with Andrés later this morning. But first, coffee and a team meeting.

Gabriel is already in the staffroom when we file in, and he sets about making the coffees while I start my laptop and gather my notes.

I don’t have a huge number of updates, apart from letting everyone know that Oscar will be coming over this afternoon, and the advert for the bar manager closes in a few days and then there’ll be interviews.

Andrés reports that he and Kirsty have almost finished the arrangements for the horses that’ll be staying for the weekend.

Not many, as many of the teams are local and will be travelling daily.

Simon has the plans for all the food that’ll be served, but needs an idea of numbers.

Gabriel has more of a handle on that so will work on it for him.

Overall, even in only a few days, I think we’ve made progress.

After we finish the meeting I head back to my office to catch up on some work.

“Is it that time already?” I ask when Andrés knocks on my door and I call for him to come in.

“It is, are you ready?”

“I will be, give me a minute.” I unlace my boots and swap them for my polo boots.

I’d found them in my old room at Pete’s, thankfully still in good condition as I’d looked after them.

They were a present from Pete when I won my first game at sixteen, and surprisingly they still fit me.

I can’t say the same about my polo whites, though, and riding in normal jeans isn’t ideal as the seams are in uncomfortable places.

I need to order some before the weekend for the friendly match.

Instead of going over to the stables for the horses, Andrés leads me towards the practice field.

“What are we doing?”

“When did you last hold a polo mallet?”

“Err, the last time I played polo, ten years ago.”

“Right, so do you think I’m going to let you get on a horse, especially a young one like Arrow, without some practice first?” He hands me what looks like a polo mallet but is a lot shorter.

“I don’t remember doing this when I first learned to play,” I say.

“Do you want to play or do you want to win?” Andrés grins.

“Well, obviously win.”

“We have a match in five days and I don’t even know if you can hit a ball or not.”

“Of course I can hit a ball,” I say heatedly, and he rolls one towards me. It’s travelling fast, I take a swipe, and of course I miss it. Fuck. I look towards him and he just raises an eyebrow at me.

“Okay, we’ll do it your way.” I sigh.

“I wasn’t trying to prove a point,” he says and I give him a pointed look. “Okay, maybe a little bit, but this is the quickest way to improve. Train on the ground before you get on a horse. It’ll pay off, I promise.”

I’m not going to argue with an eight-goal player, so I agree.

This time, when he rolls the ball towards me I do hit it.

I almost whoop with joy. He grabs a stick too and we spend ten minutes hitting the ball back and forth to each other.

It’s not gentle exercise either. Andrés sends it fast and makes me run, so I endeavor to give it back the same way.

Even though I’m not on a horse, the feel of the stick in my hand and the sound of the wood against the ball bring it all back to me and I start to improve.

By the shouts of encouragement I receive, I’m sure Andrés sees it too.

When he calls a halt I’m puffing, and slightly annoyed that he’s barely breathing heavily.

I double over, trying to suck air into my lungs for a minute.

He claps a hand on my shoulder as I straighten up.

“The office job wasn’t so good for keeping fit, eh?”

“You can say that again,” I agree. “Do you think Gabriel will put in a gym for us?”

“You should ask, he’d probably do it for you.” He starts to walk off. I’m not sure what he means, so I jog after him.

“He’d do it for the team, I’m sure,” I say, catching up with him, but he just gives me one of his small enigmatic smirks and turns his attention to where Kirsty and Jorge are riding into the field on Arrow and Saban, one of Andrés’s horses.

They’ve already warmed them up for us. They walk over and jump down.

I quickly mount up on Arrow and walk him, before trotting and cantering a few laps of the field, settling into his rhythm.

Once I feel like we’re in tune with each other, I make my way over to Andrés.

Kirsty hands me a stick and I wave it a few times alongside Arrow.

He’s been well trained not to fear it. They’re lightweight and flexible so are less likely to cause any injuries, but having a horse afraid of the mallet is no good when you’re playing.

We start off passing the ball to each other, cantering up and down the field.

Then we switch it to be more competitive.

I know Andrés is putting me through my paces, but he encourages me and points out when I could have done something better too.

He also tries a few moves which are fouls, again testing my knowledge, his grin wide when I call him out.

Arrow is wonderful. He’s quick-footed and responsive, but also fearless when Andrés rides Saban up close and alongside him. He holds his ground when he gets bumped, and even allows me to push Andrés over a couple of times.

I can’t help laughing with triumph as I get the ball past Andrés and score a goal. I’m enjoying myself and looking forward to playing a real match soon. The horses are sweating and I am too by the time we finish. I rein in Arrow beside Saban.

“Thank you,” I say to Andrés as we walk back towards the entrance, where Kirsty and Jorge are sitting on the fence waiting for us.

“You’re not bad. It’s a shame you stopped playing for so long. But I’m sure we’ll do well on the weekend, and we still have a few weeks before the tournament.”

“Thanks, but I really need to get in shape as well.” Riding is more strenuous than I remember, either that or it’s because I’m ten years older.

Before I dismount I notice a figure off to one side.

It’s Gabriel. I don’t know how long he’s been there, whether or not he’s seen us practice, but the expression on his face is one I’ve never seen before.

Full of longing and something much deeper.

He catches my eye and strides over to us, the look gone and a smile in its place.

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