Chapter 14 #2
‘Not your ancestors then?’ I smiled at Theo as I stopped to lean on one while unbuckling Linda’s silver heels.
My bare – pedicured – toes felt utterly delicious in the soft, sweet springy grass; I never wanted to be fettered in heels again.
Mary immediately sat down beside me, tugging off her own pumps.
She stood, took my hand and pulled me onwards.
‘Who? This lot?’ Theo asked.
‘Well, you have Diana, goddess of hunting…’ I explained, ‘and then Dionysus, god of wine and revelry…’
‘Typically bought and situated by my father.’ Theo’s face was inscrutable. ‘But you’re forgetting Aphrodite here.’ Theo moved to the white marble statue on our left. ‘Goddess of love and beauty.’ He turned back to me, holding my eye before taking my free hand.
Theo led me to a paddock where several horses were grazing in the balmy evening air.
He whistled and they all looked up, but only one of them, a huge black beast, remained alert, ears pricked, head turned in Theo’s direction.
This one started walking towards us, head held high but then neck outstretched as he began cantering in our direction.
Theo whistled again and the horse revved up a gear, a bit like I imagined a racing car driven by Nigel Mansell.
I stepped back in alarm as the great beast came right up to the fence, his black whiskery face reaching out to Theo almost in a kiss. There was obviously mutual adoration between horse and man, and McCallister stood silently, patiently as Theo patted and stroked and talked to his horse.
‘Get on him, Theo,’ Mary pleaded. ‘I get on him too.’
‘When I’m all dolled up like a dog’s dinner?’ Theo laughed, but I could see he was tempted. ‘Black horsehair all over these white breeches?’
‘Not matter,’ Mary insisted. ‘He miss you. Graham say so. Go on, Theo.’
‘Well, if I ruin these trousers, I’ll know who to blame.
’ He grinned down at Mary, ruffled her hair, shot me a look of What do I do?
and climbed the fence, balancing one foot on the top before mounting the horse and straddling him bareback, bending to whisper something in the creature’s ear as he did so.
Theo’s long legs – the legs that Clare had lusted over once she’d seen him in his squash whites – gripped the animal tightly, both hands in McCallister’s mane and, after a gentle walk around the paddock, Theo kicked his flanks and broke into a canter.
‘Me too,’ Mary shouted after him, letting go of my hand and crawling under the paddock fence.
‘I don’t think…’ I started anxiously.
‘Think about your frock, Mary.’ Bridget, now clearly ready for the ball in long black dress and heels, had arrived at our side and, obviously flustered, she quickly leaned under the fence, grabbing at Mary’s hand before attempting to drag her backwards.
‘She’s fine is the girl. Leave her.’ A strong Southern Irish accent made us all turn our heads before a diminutive, wiry little man, followed by a somewhat gangly, acned youth joined us.
The man gathered Mary up, lifting her on to his shoulders where she squealed with pleasure.
‘Won’t he let you up on McCallister, Princess?
’ The man laughed. ‘Well, no bad thing, darlin’.
Your mammy’ll be after you if you ruin that lovely dress.
Enough now, Theo,’ he shouted towards the cantering horse.
‘Or your mammy will be after blaming me.’ He turned to the youth. ‘Wayne, go get the brush.’
‘The yard brush?’ The kid looked puzzled.
‘No, Wayne,’ the man said in mock patience. ‘Theo can’t brush down his white breeches with the bloody yard brush. Go fetch the clothes brush. And a towel. Hanging up in the office. Go on. Pronto!’
Wayne went off, muttering something about Mr Theo obviously hoping to get his leg over more than the bloody horse and, realising Graham had heard it too and was looking towards me in amusement, I felt myself blush. Jesus, I was going to have to stop this blushing.
Graham placed Mary back on the ground and, as Bridget took the little girl’s reluctant hand and walked back towards the house to tidy her up, Graham held out his own.
‘Graham,’ he offered.
‘Anna,’ I replied, taking it.
‘Theo’s guest for the evening?’
I nodded. ‘So are you going along too?’
‘With all that lot?’ Graham pulled a face. ‘Not me. Although, to be fair, I was invited. No, but I’ll be around as usual later on to sort out the drunks.’
‘Drunks?’
‘And disorderlies.’ Graham grinned. ‘Always a few I have to haul out of the bushes and the ha-ha…’
I laughed ha-ha in return, not understanding.
‘…even had to pull one out of the lake one year.’
‘There’s a lake?’
Graham nodded. ‘Takes a hell of a lot of maintenance to keep it up to standard. But not my job, thank the lord. Get Theo to take you down there. It’s very, very beautiful. But watch out for the geese…’ He trailed off as Wayne returned with a clothes brush and towel, and Theo finally dismounted.
‘I’ve missed that,’ Theo breathed. ‘He’s in great shape, Graham. Thank you so much…’ He stopped as Wayne began swiping at his breeches with the clothes brush, alternating flapping at him with the towel.
‘Fuck’s sake, lad,’ Graham bellowed, elbowing him and taking the brush from him before handing it to Theo. ‘The towel’s to give McCallister a rub down, not Theo.’
Theo laughed, thanked Wayne and began the job himself.
‘Am I decent at the back?’ he asked me, handing me the brush while trying to look over his shoulder. ‘D’you mind? It’ll be someone allergic to horses who’ll have the misfortune to be sitting next to me.’
I took the brush and moved behind Theo, lifting the red coat and admiring – because how could I not? – his well-muscled thighs and backside in the tight white breeches.
‘You’re fine,’ I said after a good thirty seconds of manhandling Theo’s bum and legs before reluctantly removing my hand.
I flushed again as I saw Graham grinning knowingly across at me.
Theo shot his white cufflinked sleeve from the red jacket and took my hand. ‘You ready? Let’s go.’