Chapter 3
As the windscreen wipers worked hard to clear the rain from her vision, Bethany leaned forward slightly and peered at the sign by the gate.
‘Whispering Willows Horse Sanctuary,’ she murmured, then frowned. ‘Since when?’
It was the first she’d heard of it and her heart sank at the thought of it. Surely there wouldn’t be any animals remaining? When Joseph got ill he must have made other provision for them. He wouldn’t have just left them here for her to sort out. Would he?
She drove slowly and reluctantly down the drive, her stomach doing an involuntary flip when she saw the old house in the distance. Her mouth felt dry, and she swallowed hard, trying to calm herself. What was she even doing here anyway?
She pulled into the stableyard and turned off the engine. The solicitor had given her the keys and she knew she should really make a dash for it. The rain was still pouring, and she’d get soaked if she dawdled. Even so, every part of her rebelled at the thought of rushing inside that house.
Anyway, she was already wet from visiting the churchyard. Her own fault. All of this was her own fault really. All she’d had to do was instruct an estate agent to put the house up for sale. She could have got rid of the whole shebang and never gone near the place. So why hadn’t she?
She’d told herself that it was because she wanted to see the state of the place for herself so she could make sure the estate agent wasn’t ripping her off. Besides, she ought to oversee the disposal of the furniture and personal belongings. No point in paying for house clearance when there might be things that could go to charity, for example.
Deep down, though, she knew she was lying to herself. What she really wanted from visiting Whispering Willows was closure, and the pathetic thing was that she knew she’d never get it. Not now. It was way too late.
Bracing herself, she climbed out of the car and slammed the door behind her, then gazed around in dismay, her breath catching as the wind gusted around her. Even though the heavy rain made it harder to get a clear view of everything, it didn’t prevent her from realising that the house and stables were in a dire state.
She rattled the keys in her hand, trying to pluck up the courage to head indoors, but instead found herself walking towards the stables. Best to check them out, she told herself. After all, they could be a selling point. Outbuildings were always in demand, even if they were more often converted into holiday accommodation or office buildings rather than used for horses.
The nearer she got to the stables the slower her steps became, and she stared at them in despair.
What on earth had happened? One block, which she remembered had contained two looseboxes and a feed store, as well as the tack room, was bulging at the sides. It looked as if a giant had sat on it and squashed it, forcing the walls to spread, like buttercream filling oozing from a sandwich cake. The rest of the buildings weren’t as bad but even so, they looked in dire need of some care and attention.
For a moment she almost imagined she could hear Pepper stamping around inside one of the looseboxes. Tears pricked her eyes at the thought of him and she mentally shook her head. Pepper would be long gone. She was being ridiculous.
Unbolting the top half of the door to one of the looseboxes she peered inside, shocked to see water dripping through a small hole in the roof, landing with a plop in a tin bucket beneath.
‘How on earth could you let this happen?’ she murmured, as if Joseph could hear her and would provide her with an explanation.
She closed the door and tried the next one, jumping back in surprise to find a horse staring back at her. Her heart leapt for a moment before she pulled herself together. This wasn’t Pepper. How could it possibly be after all this time? Besides, this was a black gelding of around fifteen hands. Pepper had been fourteen hands and a beautiful, bright bay with a white blaze and black points.
‘What are you doing in here?’ she asked, as if the horse would answer her. She glanced around the loosebox. At least there was no bucket catching leaks in here. The bedding looked fresh, and the horse had water and a full hay net. She wasn’t sure why it was inside, as most horses were quite happy to be out, rain or no rain, and this didn’t look like a blood horse, but she was more concerned with why the top door had been shut. Surely it made more sense to leave it open? Horses rarely liked to be shut in like that. It must be like being in prison.
She swung the top door open wide and latched it to the wall to keep it in place.
‘There. A bit of fresh air for you,’ she told the horse, who blinked and turned away from her, as if he couldn’t care less whether the door was open or not. She eyed him thoughtfully. He was obviously getting on in years. His eyes were sunken, and he had grey hairs around them and on his muzzle. His back was hollow, and his coat dull. He looked as weary as she felt.
So just how many horses was she now responsible for? She’d hoped someone had rehomed them all, but it seemed she’d been left with at least one, and possibly more.
A quick check of the other looseboxes yielded no more surprises, and she mentally crossed her fingers that there was currently only one resident for her to find a new home for. She tried not to think about who on earth would want such an old horse.
Water was dripping off her hair and running down her face, the wind was whipping her skin, making her eyes water, and she knew she was being ridiculous. She needed to go indoors and see for herself what condition the house was in. Having seen the stables she wasn’t particularly optimistic, but surely Joseph had done at least basic maintenance? He couldn’t possibly have allowed it to deteriorate as much as the stables, could he?
She glanced quickly into the open loosebox as she passed, noting the gelding was standing listlessly in a corner. Was he ill or just old? She needed to find the person who’d been in charge of this place while Joseph was ill. Maybe there’d be an explanation and a contact number somewhere in the house?
Her fingers shook as she tried to unlock the door. It had been so long since she’d last stood on this doorstep, fumbling with her keys. She remembered, as if it were yesterday, how she’d walked out for the last time, and the relief she’d felt when she’d dropped these very keys at her solicitor’s for safekeeping, hoping never to return.
The key turned and she took a deep breath then pushed the door open. Her nose wrinkled as she stepped inside, aware of a stale, musty smell in the hallway. It was dark and gloomy, and she fumbled for the light switch, her mouth falling open in dismay as she saw the shabby wallpaper and the worn stair carpet. She almost wished she’d remained in the dark.
She walked to the end of the hall and pushed open the door she knew led to the kitchen, automatically switching on the light.
Before she could even begin to register the condition of that room she reeled back in alarm as a white missile launched itself at her and she was subjected to a series of short but increasingly frantic yaps.
‘A dog!’ She groaned in frustration. As if horses weren’t enough to deal with, now it seemed Joseph had also owned a dog. A bichon frise if she wasn’t mistaken.
She crouched down and made soothing noises in an attempt to calm it. The dog was practically dancing on its hind legs, and she eventually scooped it up and stood, rocking it gently as she stroked its head.
Despite herself she couldn’t help but acknowledge that it was a cute little thing, and once it stopped yapping and surveyed her with interest through dark eyes, her heart might just have melted a little.
‘So what’s your name?’ She turned the disc over on its collar and found the required information. ‘Viva, eh? Pleased to meet you, Viva. And, more importantly, who’s been looking after you?’
Viva rewarded her with several licks to the chin, which made Bethany laugh, despite herself. She kissed the little dog’s nose then gently returned her to her bed.
‘Right, let’s see what state the rest of this place is in, shall we?’
As she got to her feet, her gaze turned to the ceiling and she mentally shook her head. No need to go up there. She wouldn’t be checking out the bedrooms today.
It took her less than ten minutes to explore the rest of the downstairs, and her worry grew with each room. They all needed redecorating and re-carpeting, and that was just for starters. She wondered what the state of the boiler was, and the roof, and the wiring. At this rate she’d be paying someone to take Whispering Willows off her hands, never mind selling it for a profit.
She couldn’t help but feel cross with Joseph. There was no excuse for letting it go to rack and ruin like this. She wondered what her mother would say if she knew. After all, it had been in her family for generations.
Viva trotted into the living room as Bethany sank onto a sagging sofa. Literally. The middle seemed to have no support and she felt as if she were practically sitting on the floor. Nervously she shuffled her way to the end cushion and placed Viva on her lap.
Some of this furniture had been here when she’d lived at Whispering Willows. Evidently Joseph hadn’t cared that it was ugly, old, and in some cases barely fit for purpose.
‘This is a real mess, isn’t it, girl?’ she whispered. ‘Where do I even begin?’
Viva’s dark eyes surveyed her sorrowfully and Bethany realised that this little dog must be grieving for Joseph.
‘I guess you’re my problem now,’ she told her ruefully. ‘I have no idea what to do first. I don’t suppose you’ve got any information for me?’
Viva lay down and put her head on her paws and Bethany sighed as she stroked the dog’s ears.
‘A horse, a dog, and a house that basically needs gutting from top to bottom,’ she murmured. ‘Welcome home, Bethany.’