CHAPTER EIGHTEEN #2
‘That’s not a mountain!’ Kestrel guffawed, heartily slapping his hand on his thigh. ‘It should only take an hour to get to the top. I’ll come with you, if you like? I can bring one of the garrons for Hal to ride up the hill – it’s a long walk for little legs.’
‘I’d love you to come, if you don’t mind? Garrons?’ Sage asked, not knowing the word.
‘I’ll show you. Mrs M – please may you pack us some sandwiches?’
By the time morning had crept mistily from behind the pine trees that fringed the garden and the new day was filled with feeble sunshine, Sage and Hal were dressed in warm walking clothes and waiting for Kestrel exactly where he had instructed them to, on the main steps of the house that led up to the front door.
Sage was feeling restless and patted her coat for the third time to make sure that her phone was in her pocket.
She had at least remembered to charge it.
Hal was still chattering about the otter.
‘Kestrel says he has gone away fishing now, Mumma – but maybe he will come back for breakfast tomorrow.’
Sage was struck by how at home he seemed out here, absorbed in the natural world: he had not even asked for any screen time since leaving Newmarket, the iPad lying forgotten at the bottom of the bag.
She sat down on the step beside her son and wrapped her arms around him, inhaling his delicious scent and holding him close for a moment until he wriggled away.
‘Mumma, a pony!’ he cried happily as Kestrel appeared on the drive, looking extremely pleased with himself, a stocky dun Highland pony walking beside him.
‘This is Goose. She’s a real brick. She will carry our sandwiches and the little master –’ he indicated Hal with a flourish – ‘up the hill. I’ve put on the baskets for a picnic and Hal can sit up on top, in between them.’
‘Thank you, Kestrel,’ she said with genuine delight. She could talk to Rafe that much quicker this way, and Hal would be happy.
‘You’re welcome, Sage. Sorry I took so long – I had to tack her up myself.’ Kestrel looked somewhat surprised at his own initiative. Sage laughed, shaking her head.
They set off across the lawn and into the strip of woodland that lay between the house and the hill.
The woods were dark and deep and filled with an eerie green half-light.
They walked on a carpet of thick damp emerald moss while the wolfhounds slipped heavily in and out of the scrub and briar, burrs and teasels sticking in their long, shaggy coats.
When the little party broke the tree line, they came to a rough path just wide enough for a horse and person to walk along beside each other.
Kestrel led Goose and Hal with Sage following behind, the dogs weaving through the dense undergrowth, bounding about energetically, never straying from their peripheral vision.
The distinctive sweet smell of bog myrtle mingled with that of sodden earth pervaded the air, and the scent clung to their clothes in the drops of condensation that had engulfed them.
The path crossed a stream and stepping into it, Kestrel looked up at Hal with a mysterious smile.
‘Every burn on the place is filled with the gold from goblin mines.’ He picked some iron pyrite out of the water and handed it to the enchanted child.
‘Goblin’s Gold …’ Hal said in wonder, touching the shiny surface of the small rock with both hands as they wound their way along the path and up the folds of the hill.
The heavy sea air lay over its peaks like a thick white blanket.
The brown grass and dead, decaying leaves of winter were being gently pushed aside by the delicate pale green shoots that heralded the imminent arrival of a cautious spring.
Goose, upon reaching the summit and understanding that her work was done for a while, began to lazily crop the grass, shaking her damp mane while steam rose up from her coat like smoke.
Kestrel began to rummage through the baskets.
‘A drop of sloe gin, Sage?’
‘It’s barely ten o’clock in the morning, Kestrel,’ she chided gently.
‘Marmite sandwich then?’ he countered, disappointment in his blue eyes.
Sage’s mobile suddenly began to buzz in her pocket.
Anxiously fishing for it and fumbling in her haste, she walked away from the boys and their sandwiches and stared intently at the screen, feeling ruffled by her desperate need to speak to Rafe.
She had three new voice messages. The first two were from her grandmother and Casper, asking if she was all right.
Finally she clicked on the last message and heard Rafe’s voice, asking her to call as soon as she could.
He answered on the first ring.
‘Thank God. I’ve been waiting for you to call. Are you both OK?’
‘Yes – we’re fine, Rafe. I’m sorry, I haven’t had any signal.’
‘I know, I wish Kestrel would at least put in a sodding landline. I’ve been onto the post office several times this morning. Are you on the hill already?’
‘We sure are, all of us – oh, and apparently it’s six o’clock somewhere in the world,’ Sage laughed as she watched Kestrel produce a glass from one of the baskets with a flourish, along with a pint of milk and a bottle of whisky.
‘Oh dear, is he on the juice already?’ Rafe said, catching on. ‘You can rely on Kestrel to turn clambering up a hill into a celebration.’
Sage turned away and lowered her voice. ‘Is everything OK, Rafe? Did Santiago come to Penrose?’
‘Unfortunately, yes.’ Rafe sounded detached and strangely formal.
‘When Santiago arrived, he seemed to be labouring under the impression that you and he are going to be reconciled. Convinced, even. Now, I understand if this is something you want to consider, Sage. All I ask for is absolute transparency.’
‘I am one hundred per cent certain that is not something I will ever consider. Rafe, how can you even think so?’ said Sage, trying hard not to cry.
‘Good. I just needed absolute certainty … I must say, he made a rather compelling case. I am inordinately relieved to hear you say that.’ Rafe’s voice returned to its normal timbre, the warmth flooding back in.
‘He made some rather unwholesome allegations and threats down at Penrose. I thought Dickie was going to kill him, so I managed to persuade him to make himself scarce after Santiago turned up at the farm and I dealt with him on my own. He wasn’t at all surprised to see me, he knew exactly who I was – and all about you and me. ’
‘He saw us at North Place, remember? That will have driven him crazy. Did he say anything else about pressing charges against my father?’
‘Yes, he was crowing about that. And what’s more, he had some pretty damning photographs of your brother, which he took great delight in showing me. He was explicit that should we be seen together, you and I, then he would send them straight to the press.’
‘What are the photographs, Rafe? What is Casper doing?’ Sage asked, her voice little more than a whisper.
Rafe hesitated, loath to burden Sage with the details.
‘He’s snorting a line of cocaine. I assume it’s taken during a visit to Panama when Santiago could take full advantage of him,’ Rafe said wearily, his voice conveying his defeat.
‘I hardly need tell you that it’s something his career may not be able to weather.
Casper could lose everything – his owners, his rides, his credibility … the lot.’
‘Shit,’ Sage said weakly. She had not thought Casper would be so stupid.
She looked out across at the dark, rain-filled banks of storm cloud that were rolling across the hills and loch from the west. Sporadic patches of sunlight were managing to fight through in some places to make the browns, yellows and greens of the turf and trees appear as though electrically illuminated, almost neon compared to the gentle earthen colours that now lay in shadow.
Eventually she spoke into the phone again. ‘I can’t bear the thought of not seeing you.’
Rafe was momentarily silent. For once, he couldn’t find the words.
‘Sage, I have to go,’ he said, his voice low. ‘The vet is here. Can we talk tomorrow?’
‘Yes, of course.’
Sage managed to keep it together, despite feeling as though her world were crashing off its axis, for she could feel Kestrel and Hal watching her. She turned to them and plastered a stiff smile on her face.
‘I just need to make two more calls and then we can go.’
‘No rush, Sage. We’re fine here,’ Kestrel said calmly, a slight frown on his brow.