Chapter 14 #2
‘So he tricked you into kissing him and then let you take the fall?’
I sigh, running a hand down my face. ‘He tricked me into more than that.’
‘You… you were dating?’ he asks tentatively.
I nod shamefully. ‘Like I said, he told me he was separated.’
‘You are not the fool, Ash. He is. He is a coward,’ he spits with such venom, it’s like he suffered the experience personally himself. ‘A true villain. A weasel in tennis whites.’
The insult is so ridiculous, a bubble of laughter rises up my throat and escapes.
Mateo looks surprised but pleased that I’m laughing at least. ‘That’s an insult to weasels,’ he adds.
‘You have no idea.’
Lyra snorts impatiently behind us and Mateo’s pony has another nibble at his arm.
‘So.’ Mateo tilts his head at me. ‘Want to try again? You can pretend Chris Courtney’s head is the ball. Then you might hit it.’
‘Is that a formal tip?’ I question, amused.
‘Polo doesn’t work without passion. You have to put your heart into it. Don’t hide away from everything you’re feeling – use it. When you’re up on the pony, you are powerful and imposing. No one can stop you.’
‘That does sound like a good feeling.’ I heave a sigh. ‘All right. I’ll try again.’
Moving to Lyra’s side, I pull myself up and, when I’m ready, Mateo picks up my mallet from the grass and holds it up for me to take.
‘Half the battle is confidence and trusting yourself and your pony,’ he says, checking my heel position.
‘I know you’ve got lots to think about, but all those things will become second nature with practice.
You and your horse are partners. For the rest of this lesson, just focus on enjoying playing with her – she’ll relax and respond when you do. ’
Walking her on, I start circling the field, bringing her into a canter before turning her to come down in a straight line towards the ball.
Before my head can get overwhelmed with instructions – eye on the ball, check grip on the mallet, stand in the stirrups, up from the saddle, swing the stick smoothly, watch the ball – I try to focus on enjoying the ride, this feeling of going so fast, my breath catches and my heart soars.
I set my sights on the ball, a determined smile spreading across my lips as we thunder down the field towards it.
‘Come on,’ I whisper to both my pony and myself, the two of us soaring together.
I rise up from the saddle. Fuck being the worst groom in the yard. I lean forward. I’m going to be the groom who took on DQ and won. I begin my swing. Let’s do this.
The loud thwack of my mallet striking the ball with perfect timing echoes across the field. I gasp and then cheer with excitement, going into a celebratory lap while Mateo punches the air and cheers from his pony. When I make my way over to him, he’s laughing.
‘Did you see that?’ I ask breathlessly, bouncing as my pony trots towards him.
‘It was brilliant. A perfect shot. You should have kept going!’
‘I was too excited!’
‘I could tell.’
‘I can’t believe I did it,’ I gush. ‘That was incredible!’
‘Now you know the feeling, you will keep chasing it. Like the rest of us.’
I nod, my whole body tingling with adrenaline. ‘Thank you, Mateo.’
‘It was all you.’ He smiles, his eyes glistening at me. ‘Brilliant you.’
Something tugs in my heart as we grin stupidly at each other.
He notices something over my shoulder and his smile falters. Shifting in my saddle, I look behind me to see someone waiting at the edge of the field: a gorgeous woman in a mini dress with long, blonde hair and huge sunglasses. She wiggles her fingers in our direction.
‘Isn’t that…?’ I peer at her and then turn to face Mateo again, recognising her while my stomach twists itself into jealous knots. ‘It’s the actress you met at the Berkshire.’
He looks sheepish. ‘She joked about surprising me one night, I didn’t think—’
‘I won’t keep you. Our lesson is finished anyway. End on a high, right?’ I babble, patting my pony before I dismount. ‘I can take the ponies back and sort them, and come back to pick up the balls and mallets and stuff. You head out. Don’t want to be late for your date.’
God, why am I talking like this? It’s so weird and forced. He’ll see through it. But I can’t seem to stop. I’m on a frantic mission to prove I’m at ease.
‘Thanks so much for the lesson. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good time!’ I call out, leading my pony away.
‘Ash, wait,’ he says, and I spin round, turning the horse with me.
‘Yes?’ I say, my breath catching in my throat.
‘I… I haven’t got off my horse yet,’ he says, brow furrowed.
I slap my forehead with my palm as he hops down onto the grass and leads him over to me. ‘Almost forgot a pony. It’s the high of hitting the ball. It’s made me dizzy.’
‘Ash—’ he begins, pained.
‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ I say, cutting him off and leading the ponies away before he can say anything else and refusing to look back over my shoulder at them as I go.
Soothed by the rhythmic clopping of the two ponies walking with me across the yard, I remind myself in a quiet voice out loud why this is a good thing: ‘He only wants flings and you’re better than that. Forget him before it’s too late.’