Chapter 20
Twenty
It feels like I’m in a dream, drifting through Paris on our own private boat.
We’ve turned down the offer of bubbles – Mateo has a rather important match tomorrow and I’m up at the crack of dawn – but honestly, I still feel drunk because of how surreal this is.
The city is even more magical from the water.
I marvel at the architecture of the buildings we pass, exquisite stone structures and stained-glass windows clashing with the pockets of noise floating from vibrant bars and restaurants right next door.
Mateo is sitting opposite me at the front and his frequent glances my way haven’t gone unnoticed, as though he’s anxiously checking I’m having a good time.
‘I’m not going to want to go home after this,’ I joke as we go under the most magnificent and ornate bridge. ‘Maybe I’ll stay here in Paris. I could work for the polo club and spend all my free time eating amazing food and going on boat trips.’
He smiles. ‘Sounds like a good life.’
‘We’ll have to transfer all the ponies from Maycourt to Paris, though.’
‘Ah.’
‘I couldn’t be without them. Especially Serafina,’ I shoot him a look, ‘who you’ve benched yet again.’
‘I’ve been wondering when that was going to come up. We’re through to the finals of the Paris Open, Ash. I think I was right with my line-up of ponies.’
‘If DQ were playing this tournament, it might be different.’
He quirks a brow, looking mildly insulted.
‘I’m not saying you can’t beat them, because you can; you’ve already proved it,’ I say quickly. ‘But at some point, you might need the biggest weapon we’ve got, and that’s Serafina. I think Eduardo would agree with me.’
‘He didn’t think she was ready for Paris,’ he gives a knowing smile as I sigh with irritation, ‘but would it make you happy if I told you I was considering her for the British Open? The biggest tournament of the season. How’s that?’
‘It would make me happy… but that’s not why you should pick her. I want you to believe in her as much as I do.’
He nods silently.
Chewing my lip, I go back to admiring the sights we’re passing. I was hoping to see the Eiffel Tower sparkling at night, but it’s too light still, the summer evening shading the city in a warm-orange glow.
‘It’s interesting that when you move to Paris, you’ll still work in a polo yard,’ Mateo says lightly. ‘Do you think polo is it for you, then?’
‘You know, I didn’t even think when I said that,’ I admit, laughing, ‘but there it is in my subconscious. It’s strange for me to think of doing something else now. God, the younger me would be dying of joy knowing I was going to end up working with ponies.’
‘I thought you didn’t know much about horses when you were a child.’
As I fill him in on my horse-riding experience through the school programme, I watch as he listens with great intrigue and then his face falls with devastation on my behalf when I get to the part about it being shut down.
‘They should start it up again!’ he declares, as though he’s suffered the injustice himself. ‘How else can children like you learn to ride? If you hadn’t come to Maycourt, you never would have known about your talent. You might have gone your whole life without riding again!’
I smile at his passion. ‘Maybe.’
‘That’s a scary thought. I hate the idea of another kid not having that chance.
’ He sighs, the weight of the world suddenly pressing down on his shoulders.
‘Horses can do so much for children, you know? Without them, I wouldn’t have lasted long, I don’t think.
They see the good in you that everyone else misses.
They make you feel like you are… like you are worth something. ’
I could listen to you talk like this for hours.
‘You say your mother was never interested in horses?’ he asks, interested.
I shake my head. ‘Nope.’
‘And what about your dad?’
‘He’s completely indifferent to animals and pets.’
He nods sadly. ‘Do you speak to your father often? What is your relationship like?’
‘Mateo, I feel like I have talked about myself this entire day!’ I say, chuckling. ‘Sorry for going on about myself so much.’
‘No, I asked you too many questions,’ he reasons with a shrug. ‘I wanted to know about you. I’d like to know more.’
I shyly fiddle with the hem of my dress. ‘There’s honestly not a lot to know. And surely it’s your turn in the hot seat now.’
He leans back in his seat with a bemused expression.
‘You know everything about me. In our jobs, we’re always talking about my work, what I do and why I do it.
It’s been a while now that I’ve been wanting to take you out so I can do what I really want to do when we’re together.
’ He takes a beat, sending heat flushing up my neck and through my face before he says, ‘Which is talk with you about you.’
It’s impossible not to laugh at the playful smile on his lips.
‘May I ask you one more question?’ he checks.
I pick up my glass of sparkling water and nod. ‘Sure.’
He takes a deep breath, and asks quietly, ‘Why do I feel like you’re… fighting this?’
My glass pauses midway to my mouth. ‘Fighting what?’
‘Whatever this is between us. I can’t work it out. Sometimes, I think that it’s going the way I want it, then it’s as though it doesn’t exist. I know how it is on my side, but I can’t read you. So, I guess I want to check whether I have a chance.’
I lower my glass back down without taking a sip.
‘When you say you know how it is on your side,’ I begin, the wobble in my voice betraying my nerves, ‘what does that mean?’
I’m not going first.
His throat bobbing as he gazes at me, he takes a moment to form his answer then leans forward.
‘You’re all I think about, Ash,’ he says in a low, gravelly voice that sends warm, glowing sparks through my body.
‘I can’t bear it when you’re not with me.
And when you are with me, I feel like I can breathe again. ’
My heart is pounding so hard, surely he can hear it.
Surely the whole bankside can hear it. I try to form words, something to say in response, anything, but my brain has gone blank.
I’m lost in his dark eyes that continue to blaze at me as though they never want anything else in their sight.
As though I’m the only one that matters.
‘What about Emma?’ I blurt out, my stubborn lines of defence not giving up yet.
He frowns, baffled. ‘Emma?’
‘Basilio told me about her. How you pursued her until she fell for you and then you dropped her. And what about that actress you met at Guards? Or the model you met in Florida, the one I saw you with in your car? And all the other women that flock to you and the other players. Look, I know how it goes in polo and I’m not going to get sucked in. ’
Flustered, I run a hand through my hair, which has grown wilder in the heat of today.
Having been lost for words moments ago, they sure are spilling out of me now.
He was right to ask me why I’ve been pulling away because at least we can get everything out on the table – no more games.
I am giving him the chance to back away before it gets messy.
We’re too close, we know each other too well; I can’t be a fling to him. Maybe if we’d only just met. Sure, I’d love to jump into bed with this guy because look at him. But it’s too late. I’ve spent too much time with him and I can’t pretend that these feelings don’t exist.
The problem is, how do I know he didn’t say this exact same shit to Emma?
I know now that it’s easy for people to say things they don’t mean.
A memory of Chris flits through my mind: we were at his flat in Wimbledon and he saw me admiring a painting hanging on the wall. ‘I bought that in Paris from a street artist while I was playing in the French Open,’ he told me.
‘I’d love to experience Paris properly,’ I said, gazing at the picture.
‘How about I take you sometime?’ he offered, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. ‘It’s easy enough. We can pop over, pretend we’re there to see the sights and spend all our time in our hotel room.’
I laughed, turning round to kiss him.
He threw that idea out so easily, so convincingly, when he never had any intention of seeing it through. And I was so caught up in the idea myself, I didn’t stop to question it.
I sigh, looking at Mateo with pleading eyes that say, Please don’t fuck around with me. I’m too tired, I’m too broken, I’m too decent. Take your games somewhere else.
‘Mateo,’ I continue, ‘you’re right. I have been fighting whatever this is, because I can’t take any more risks.
Maycourt saved me. You say that horses have the power to make you feel worth something – well, I couldn’t agree more and I’m living proof of that.
When I arrived at that yard, I may have been functioning, I may have been putting one foot in front of the other, but beneath it all, I was struggling.
It felt like the whole world hated me, and I was alone in it because the person I’d trusted had dropped me the moment reality hit. ’
His expression is pained as I talk, his jaw clenched, the line between his eyebrows deepening. I pause for breath, my chest feeling lighter somehow.
It’s nice to talk about it, I suppose, even if it’s with the one person I shouldn’t.
‘As much as I… want…’ I trail off as I gesture at the air between us, unable to say it out loud and hoping he gets the picture.
I clear my throat. ‘I can’t risk what I’ve managed to find again for a brief, meaningless fling.
Something that might not be real. And I’m sorry for the mixed messages.
It wasn’t fair of me to keep giving in to…
Look, I’m sorry for kissing you. I should have been stronger. ’
He doesn’t say anything at my conclusion. There’s several moments of unbearable, torturous silence where he doesn’t move a muscle or speak a word, his mouth set in a hard, straight line, his hands grasped together. Then, finally he speaks.
‘Don’t be sorry,’ he says quietly.