Life is for Living by Sue

Life’s for Living

It was a late autumn day; the trees were losing the last of their golden leaves which were falling on ground that was still crisp and glistening from the night’s frost, despite the fact that it was past midday. Even though it was cold, the sun was bright and sky clear, an excellent day for riding. The sight of the two horses galloping like the wind over the field was exhilarating to see. The nostrils flaring, the hot breaths making them look like fire-breathing dragons. The chestnut was a good hundred yards ahead of the grey appaloosa as they approach the stream at the bottom of the hill. The young woman on his back tugged at the reins and the horse dutifully stopped. She was already out of the saddle and standing laughing, by the time the other horse and its rider caught her up. The rider, a young man, jumped down and tried to catch his breath. She won again! It wasn’t that his horse was slow but the fact that her horse was an outstandingly fast runner and so beautifully trained by its rider.

‘Too slow again, Steve.’ She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him as consolation.

‘If you’d let me ride Copper once in a while I might win occasionally.’ He said as he kissed her back still breathing hard.

‘Do you want to?’

‘What ? You would actually let someone else ride Copper? Now there’s a first’ He teased her.

‘You know I would let you. I’d do anything for you, even give you my horse!’ She stroked his cheek with her gloved hand, the wool rough against his skin. ‘Your cheeks are really red.’

‘Bet they’re not as red as your nose, Rudolph?’ He laughed as planted a small kiss on the end of her nose, tightening his arms around her as they stood warming each other.

They had to make the most of these times alone together. There seemed to be precious little of them just lately. The farm was busier than usual, it sometimes felt like half the horses in Yorkshire needed a home for the winter and the shorter daylight hours meant that there was less time to do the outside work, especially if you wanted to be able to see what you were doing.

There seemed always to be mountains of paperwork to do in the evening and although Dora and Steve often worked on this together it was hardly romantic. Neither was spending the evening in the kitchen with Slugger playing gooseberry, especially if he fell asleep and ended up snoring! The consolation to Slugger’s naps was that they could have a kiss and cuddle in the warm without him noticing. Or so they thought, anyway! Occasionally Slugger would open an eye slyly, before feigning sleep, so as not to embarrass them. The only time that they were completely alone were on the occasional nights together when Dora would sneak out to Steve loft or if Slugger when to bed earlier than them Steve would creep up to bed with Dora. They tried not to make it too obvious but were sure Slugger knew anyway. Dora was pleased to note that these nights were getting more frequent. She hoped he would soon make it a more permanent arrangement. She loved waking up with Steve beside her, loved too cuddling up to him (and more) on these cold, long nights.

As he held her Steve had been thinking along the same lines? He didn’t know if he wanted to spend another winter sleeping alone in his loft. He had always been happy there before he and Dora had become an item but now things were different, he adored snuggling up to her warm body at nights and waking in the mornings finding her still in his arms. It was where he felt most contented and wanted. The down side to moving in with her was that he would miss his own space. He was used to disappearing to his room whenever he needed time alone. He would have to talk to her about that.

Back in the field where they stood huddled together, he suddenly realised she been talking to him. ‘Hey, where have you been? I was asking about the coffee. You did bring some? I need warming up.’

‘I thought that’s what I was doing.’ He was grinning at her and giving her a squeeze. He let her go and walked over to Alex, his horse. Removing the thermos flask from the saddlebag he turned to her and said laughing ‘ I hope you like it shaken not stirred?’ Recalling how hard he’d ridden Alex and the shaking the flask must have got.

After drinking their cups of coffee Dora was all set to continue their ride, she could ride for hours yet. But Steve had other ideas.

‘We’d better be getting back. I’ve something to do.’

Dora looked disappointed. ‘But Steve, I thought we were going to have a long ride today. We rarely get to do them these days. Can’t it wait!’ She said exasperated and feeling slightly cross because he had promised.

Steve put on a thoughtful face. ‘Well. I don’t know. I suppose it could wait but we’re pretty busy for the rest of the week. Urm…I’m not sure. If I don’t do it today, I don’t when I’ll get time to move my things into your room.’ He looked at her mischievously.

‘What! Oh Steve.’ She rushed to him and flung her arms around his neck once more.

‘You do want me to? Don’t you?’

‘Yes, more than anything’ She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the waiting horses. ‘Come on, what are we waiting for? Let’s go home!’

Steve grinned at her. ‘God, Dora, you’re impossible!’

___

Several hours later they were lying on Dora’s bed, having found a home for Steve’s things. Not that he had an awful lot of possessions, before he came to Follyfoot he frequently moved from place to place and was used to travelling light. Although the last few settled years had seen his collection of clothes and books etc. grow somewhat.

Dora had frantically made some space in her wardrobe and emptied out several drawers in the dresser. She also moved her toiletries to one side of the dresser top to make room for his.

Steve was lying on his back with Dora cuddled up with him, her head on his chest, trying to get used to the fact that this was now his room. The loft room was now his past, this house, this room and Dora were his future, and he could hardly believe it. It seemed a bit surreal at times. It was going to take time; he knew that but did Dora?

Dora was gazing around the room, a thoughtful look on her face. ‘I think we should redecorate in here, it’s really looking rather shabby and a little too feminine with the flowered wallpaper. What do you think?’ she asked him.

‘Yeah, if you like.’ A typical bloke’s reply, she thought.

‘We’ll make it our room. It was like this when I came here. Not really my choice. Think I’ll change the bed covers too!’

‘You’re sounding like a right little housewife.’ Steve teased Dora. One day, would she be his, he pondered to himself.

‘Sorry. I don’t mean to.’ She said apologetically. ‘I’m just thrilled that you’re here at last.’

‘I know.’ He said quietly. ‘Dora. About me moving in here.’

‘Oh, you haven’t changed you mind already.’ She interrupted half jokingly.

‘I haven’t. Honestly.’ Looking at the ceiling he continued. ‘Look, Dora, don’t take this the wrong way.’ He sighed as she looked up at him. ‘It might take me a bit of time to get used to this.’ He gestured around the room. ‘You know I have been on my own for so long. I’m used to my own space. When I first came to Follyfoot, that loft room felt like a haven to me. A place that was truly mine. A home.’ He smiled slightly. ‘I don’t want you to be offended if I go back there occasionally. Not to stay.’ He had seen the dismay on her face. ‘Just if I need a bit of time on my own, we all do sometimes, don’t we? I sure you get fed up with being with me twenty-four hours a day. You do understand, don’t you?’

‘Of course, I understand.’ Dora said. ‘I just want you to be happy. I want to make you happy.’

‘I am and you do.’ He gave her a hug then kissed her and she responded lovingly.

The sound of the telephone ringing in the study disturbed their kissing and cuddling.

‘Wonder who that is?’ Dora asked sitting up.

‘I just hope it’s not another horse.’ Steve said rising from the bed.

Reluctantly they made their way downstairs, each other knowing that the night would hold more than kissing and cuddling. They were looking forward to their first permanent night together. No sneaking about early in the morning.

When they went into the kitchen Slugger was busy at the stove. He turned to them a troubled look on his face. Could it be about them, was he uncomfortable with their new arrangement? He hadn’t actually given his approval but then neither had he voiced his disapproval. They were doing what his generation called ‘living in sin’ but he knew things were different nowadays; the younger people lived in a more liberal society. He was also aware that they hadn’t taken the decision lightly. They had known each other a long time. And he was glad that Steve would be in the house this winter, it was forecast to be a usually cold one.

‘Slugger, are you all right? If it’s about Steve and I…’ Dora stopped as Slugger shook his head.

‘No, lass. It’s not you two, er, being together. I’ll get use to that.’

‘What then? Was it the phone call?’ Steve asked.

‘Yes, it was my sister. Her husband has had a heart attack. She was rather upset.’

‘I’m so sorry. Is he…?’ Dora said not finishing her sentence.

‘No. But he is very ill. He’s in ‘ospital. I think I should go and see her tomorrow, see if there’s anything I can do. Do you two mind? There’s a bus ‘round midday.’

‘No, of course not. You must go.’

‘I’ll drive you, if you like. It will be quicker and easier for you.’ Steve said. ‘Do you want to go tonight?’

‘No, son. Ta. Tomorrow will be fine. Might stay the night, if that’s alright?’ Slugger said as he continued to see to the supper. Steve looked at Dora and caught her eye. She smiled shyly at him, her eyes relaying the same thoughts as his. A whole night alone together!

___

Slugger and Steve left for Slugger’s sister’s place just after lunch. Dora had wanted to go too but they had quite a lot of work to do, she couldn’t leave Ron on his own. Also a local doctor was coming to see her about the schooling of a pony for his young daughters. They had a lot on at the moment but they could hardly afford to turn away paying customers. So she waved them off cheerfully, telling Slugger to wish his brother-in-law well and informing Steve not to be too long, she wasn’t being bossy, she just missed him when he wasn’t there. He had clicked his heels and saluted her. ‘Yes, boss!’ She had thumped him playfully and pushed him into the driver’s seat.

‘Go on. The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be back.’ She laughed at him. She was looking forward to tonight. She mentally made a list of ideas to make it more romantic as she watched them drive out of the farm.

Having assured Slugger that they could just about cope without him, they didn’t want him to think he was dispensable; Steve dropped Slugger off at his sister’s place.

She had invited Steve in for a cup of tea but he had politely declined. He had wanted to get home to Dora. ‘Home to Dora’ why that sounded good. He smiled to himself when he thought of her waiting for him to return. He also thought of tonight on their own he’d like to make it special for her, for them both. Steve wasn’t one for over doing the romantic gestures, neither was Dora a chocolates and flowers girl so she didn’t seem to mind that he never thought to buy her any. He’d have to think of something, though.

A meal. That’s what he would do, he would cook her a meal. It was something he hadn’t needed to do much since he’d come to Follyfoot, that was Slugger’s domain, unfortunately he thought, recalling some of Slugger’s incinerated and unpalatable meals. But he knew from past attempts he wasn’t a bad cook.

He was driving steadily along, singing along to the songs on the radio, having decided to go into the local village to pick up supplies for the meal and maybe a bottle of wine from the off-licence, when he be came aware of a black sports car right up the backside of his vehicle. The occupant must have been driving really fast because it hadn’t been there a few seconds before. Steve gestured in his mirror for the driver to pull back but all he got was a rude hand signal in return. The next minute the car pulled out into the middle of the road with loud revs and a puff of exhaust fumes sped past Steve.

‘Bloody idiot.’ Steve shouted after the sports car, adding a few choice expletives as it disappeared around a bend.

Just then there was the screech of tyres and an almighty bang. It made Steve jumped so much that his first reaction was to slam on the brakes. When he realised the noise was from along the road he started off again and cautiously drove around the bend. The sight that greeted him on the other side was one of absolute horror.

‘Christ!’ He caught his breath, steered the truck on to the verge, stopped and put on his hazard lights. As he jumped out of his vehicle, another car travelling in the opposite direction stopped and a middle aged couple got out. They looked at each other in disbelief. There were black tyre marks on the road and the verge was all cut up. The sports car was about twenty feet off the road, smashed headlong into a tree. In the middle of the road was a chestnut horse. It was lying on its side, the saddle twisted around its body, it’s legs flaying in mid air as if trying to get up, the reins wrapped around a foreleg.

Steve heart leaped into his mouth, at first glance it had looked like Dora’s horse, Copper but then with relief he realised it wasn’t.

The couple rushed to the sports car as Steve ran to the horse, it was pretty bad but still alive.

But where was the rider? Steve looked around frantically. Within seconds he had found the rider, a young girl, she had been thrown several yards on to the verge in long grass. He sprinted over to her and knelt down beside her. She was younger than Dora, probably about seventeen years old. Her body was twisted and blood was already soaking her long blonde hair. Steve noticed a jagged rock a few inches from her; she must have hit her head on it as she landed on the ground.

She opened her eyes as Steve spoke to her.

‘It’s okay we’ll get help. Just lay still.’ As Steve spoke the middle aged woman had stopped a motorcyclist and sent him to a nearby house to phone for the emergency services.

‘What’s happened?’ The girl’s voice was barely audible. ‘An accident.’ Steve replied trying to use his handkerchief to stem the flow of blood but the wound was too deep and it wasn’t having much affect. He took off his leather jacket and laid it over her.

The older woman had come up beside him. ‘How is she?’ Steve just looked up at her his face giving her an answer.

‘What about him?’ Steve asked nodding towards the sports car, only then noticing that the driver had gone through the window screen and was on the crushed up bonnet. The woman shook her head. Steve felt sick and hastily turned back to the girl. He spoke to her softly as he tried to comfort her.

‘The ambulance is on it way. It won’t be long. I’m Steve. What your name?’

‘Debbie.’ she managed to say quietly.’ ‘What about Sam?’

‘Sam?’ Steve asked then realised she was talking of her horse. Steve didn’t know what to say.

‘Don’t worry about him just now. He’ll be okay.’ He lied. ‘Look, I need to get you a blanket, I’ll be back in few seconds.’

‘No!’ She cried. ‘Please don’t leave me.’ She tried to reach out a hand to him.

‘Okay.’ He took her hand and beckoned to the woman who was now waiting with her husband in the road for the ambulance. He asked her to get a blanket out of the back of truck for him, it was just an old horse blanket but it was better than nothing. When the woman returned he laid the blanket over the young girl then continued to hold her hand and reassured he as much as he could. He was frustrated that he couldn’t do anything else. As he knelt beside her, the cold and damp was seeping through his jeans to chill his legs and knees, and the bitter air finding its way through his jumper and shirt, he thought about how cold the girl must be, lying on the frost harden ground. If the ambulance didn’t arrive soon, hypothermia would be added to her already serious injuries. All he could do was make sure the blanket covered her body completely, carefully tucking it around her. He knew by the angle of her head and body that it would too dangerous to move her.

The ambulance seemed to be taking an eternity but in reality it had only been about five minutes since it had been called. Steve continued to watch over the girl as she lapsed in and out of consciousness. He kept talking to her even though he wasn’t sure if she could hear him. He talked about horses, as she obviously liked them, there were badges on her coat, which had, when he first found her, been open showing the horse’s head embroidered on her jumper. Occasionally there was a small smile on her face as if she was aware of some of what he was saying. He stared at her pretty young face, now pale and devoid of colour, her lips turning blue. She looked familiar, he had seen somewhere before, he was sure.

He kept telling her to hold on, that help wouldn’t be long but she was getting weaker by the minute.

Suddenly he felt her grip tighten in his hand as she open her eyes and looked at him. In a very weak voice she spoke to him, so quiet he had to lean over her to hear. ‘Tell my parents I’m sorry.’ Her hand slackened in his, her eyes closed for the last time and her shallow breathing ceased altogether.

Steve buried his face in his hands and shook his head. Blood smears now appeared on his cheeks. He wasn’t sure if he shouted out but suddenly the woman was by his side again putting a hand on his shoulder.

‘Come on love. The ambulance is here now.’ She said as she helped him up. He looked around to see an ambulance man striding briskly towards him and the girl.

Back on the road several police cars had arrived, along with a second ambulance and a fire engine.

Steve stood at the side of the road, his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched and watched the ambulance man and his colleague tend to the girl, while the others from the second attended the driver of the car. They tried to revive her, as formality and good practice dictated they should but they both knew it was no good and ceased after a few minutes. Steve swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat and sighed heavily as the blanket was pulled up to cover the girl’s lifeless face.

One of the ambulance men walked over to Steve and held out his jacket.

‘This yours.’ He asked him, Steve nodded in reply. ‘Are you all right, son.’

‘Yeah. What else could I’ve have done?’ Steve said, his voice breaking up.

‘Nothing else, son. You did all you could. Her injuries were far too serious for her to have survived. She should have been wearing a riding hat then...’ He trailed off ‘Are you sure you’re okay? You look a little shaken, maybe you should go to the hospital to be checked over’ He asked again putting a fatherly hand on Steve arm. Steve shook his head. ‘No I’m fine, really.’

‘If you’re sure. Must go.’ The ambulance man said as he walked away. Steve put on his jacket as he had begun to shiver but it did nothing to warm him.

Steve gave his details and a brief statement to the police, who told him they would need to see him again later.

Then, with a heavy heart he walked over to the horse. It was a beautiful horse, a thoroughbred by the look of it, the expensive saddle twisted on its lean frame. It was lying quietly now; the large gash on its hindquarters was making a pool of blood on the road surface. Kneeling down beside it, he stroked his neck, the horse’s dark eyes looking at him, almost pleading with him. Steve knew the horse was dying but he couldn’t stay and watch, not again. He got to his feet as a policeman approach him.

‘The vet’s on his way. Shouldn’t think he can do anything, though.’ The policeman said quietly, taking off his cap and pushing his hair back with his fingers. He was young, not much older than Steve. Steve thought that the policeman looked as he himself felt, pale and sickened by the carnage around them. He would have to get used to scenes like this, he was likely to see many more in future police career. Steve wouldn’t want his job for anything, not that he could with his prison record.

‘No. He’s badly injured. He’ll have to be shot I’m afraid if he doesn’t die before.’ Steve answered with resignation and sadness, looking at the horse’s already glazing eyes. He thought that it was a good job Dora wasn’t here; she would have hated seeing the horse like this. She would have a least have wanted to try and save it. He felt ashamed that he didn’t, he just wanted to put the poor thing out of its misery.

Steve returned to the truck and got back into the driver’s seat. He placed his hands on the steering wheel, and leaned over resting his forehead on it. He was feeling a little nauseous now. He took in a few deep breaths, waiting the sick feeling to ease. He closed his eyes and then opened them quickly as the girl’s pale and bloodstained face sprung up before him. He needed to get back to the farm; back to Dora. He started the engine and pulled off consciously not looking back at the horrific scene of the accident. He concentrated on his driving and the road ahead trying to put the sickening images out of his mind.

___

Back at the farm Dora had started to get worried, if not a little angry that Steve wasn’t back. It was now nearly two hours since he and Slugger left. She knew the whole round trip shouldn’t have taken more than an hour at the most. She’d even rung Slugger at his sister’s to see if Steve had stayed there awhile for some reason. Slugger had tried to reassure her by suggesting that maybe he’d broken down but then if that was so, why didn’t he ring. Something was wrong she knew it!

She was just about to go and ask Ron to go out and look for Steve on his bike when the truck pulled into the farm. She rushed out to meet him.

‘Steve. Where have you been?’ She snapped at him. ‘I’ve been worried.’ Then she saw the look on his face, the deathly white pallor of his skin, contrasting even more than normal against his dark hair and said more softly. ‘Steve. What’s wrong?’

‘An accident.’

‘What?’ She looked from Steve to the truck then back to Steve. It was then that she noticed the smear of blood. ‘Steve!’

‘No! Not me. I came upon an accident. Oh Dora! It was awful.’

‘Come on. Lets get you inside.’ She took hold of his arm; she could feel him begin to shake as she led him into the kitchen. She sat him on a chair by the table then pulled one up for herself and sat opposite him, her hands holding his tightly.

‘What happened, Steve? Tell me.’ She looked into his dark eyes now clouded with sadness.

Steve recounted the whole thing to her. She gasped at the times when he described the ghastly scenes of the car driver, the girl and the dying horse to her. His voice cracking and barely audible on occasions. She saw the haunted expression in his eyes as he spoke of his uselessness and frustration at his failure to help the girl. He mentioned how he thought he seen the girl before but couldn’t recollect where.

‘I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t do anything to save her.’ He took his hands from Dora and buried his face in them. Dora had become upset herself, especially seeing how distressed Steve was. She wished she could have taken the pain away from him.

Ron had entered the kitchen half way though Steve recapping of the afternoon’s disaster.

He heard enough to get the gist of what had happened and he genuinely felt for his mate over what he had witnessed.

Dora sent Ron into the study to get a glass of brandy for Steve, when he came back Dora was giving Steve a hug and he had stopped shaking. Dora let him go as Ron handed him the glass. Steve looked at it and swirl the liquid around, before taking a sip. As he placed the glass on the table, without saying anything he rose out of his seat and started to walk towards the door.

‘Where are you going?’ Dora asked, a concerned look on her face.

‘Outside. I need some air.’ He continued out of the kitchen and through the back door.

‘Steve!’ Dora went to go after him but Ron put out his arm to stop her.

‘Leave him, girl.’ He placed his arm around her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

‘Let him be for a while. He’ll be alright.’

Dora watched him from the kitchen window go through the farm gate into the stable yard. He strolled slowly up to the old tree, placing both hands on the rough bark, stood there head bowed for several minutes, suddenly he pushed himself away from the tree, look up briefly then walked over to the tack room entrance, she knew where he was going and hoped he could find some sort of solace in his old room. She was a little grieved to think he wanted to be on his own rather than with her. That he preferred his own company to hers at this upsetting time and didn’t want the comfort she could give him. But she had to respect the fact that he wanted time on his own. It was early days in their relationship for him to let go of his independence and trust her completely. She would be there for him when he decided he needed her, and she knew he would.

It had been half an hour since Dora had watched Steve walk out the door and it was now getting dark. She decided to go and see if he was all right. As she walked into the tack room, he was making his way down the stairs. He saw her and smiled.

‘Hi.’ He said surprisingly cheerfully.

‘Steve, are you okay?’ She asked.

‘Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. Sorry, I walked out on you like that. I just needed…oh,you know.’

‘Yes. I know. It’s okay, you don’t have to apologise.’

They had met each other at the bottom of the stairs. He was looking more like his old self and the colour had come back to his face. Dora put a hand lightly on Steve arm and stroked it gently.

‘I can’t pretend to know exactly how you are feeling, having witnessed what you did. But I want you know that I’ll try to understand and will here for you if you feel like talking about it.’

‘I know. I’m glad you’re here, thank you.’ He lent forward and kissed briefly but lovingly.

‘Steve. I know you probably don’t feel hungry, but maybe we should think about supper. No Slugger, no stew!’ She said light-heartedly.

‘Oh hell!’ He exclaimed. ‘It was going to be a surprise. I was going to cook supper for you, even intended to call in the village to get the stuff for it and everything. Now it’s been messed up. Sorry.’ He finished quietly.

‘It doesn’t matter Steve. Tell you what, I’ll get Ron go out and get the three of us some fish and chips. What do you say?’

‘Yeah, okay.’

She took his hand and walked into the yard. When they got to the gate, Dora stopped and looked at him a quizzical look on her face.

‘Steve.’ She said slowly. He frowned as waited for to continue. ‘Can you cook?’

‘Well, I could answer like I remember someone else doing at one time with “I don’t know, I’ve never tried.” .’ He smiled at her as she blushed. ‘But, yeah, I can cook. I had to feed myself when I lived on my own, you know.’ His eyes took on a far away look for a second then he abruptly came back to the present.

‘Oh. Then I’ll have to take an IOU from you for another day, won’t I?’ She said, tucking her arm through his as they entered the farmhouse.

Steve had been quieter than usual at supper and didn’t eat all his meal but Dora thought he looked better that he had done earlier. Even Ron spoke less than he normally did feeling his friends sorrow. He didn’t even make any sarcastic remarks about not missing Slugger’s stew! He had suggested that he left them alone and would eat his supper at home but Steve wouldn’t hear of it and had insisted Ron ate with them. He felt he needed the company right now, even Ron’s!

Although, they all had been in a slightly sombre mood and had sat in companionable silence for most of the time, Steve was glad to have both his good friends there.

After helping them clear up Ron left leaving just the two of them on their own. That morning, they had planned to have a special, romantic evening followed by an even more romantic night. But now there seemed like a cloud hanging over them and they sat mainly in silence.

Steve had sat at the kitchen table with the newspaper spread out before him, but Dora knew he wasn’t reading it as he had been looking at the same page for over twenty minutes.

She came up behind Steve had wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing him on his hair.

‘Steve. You look tired.’

He nodded sadly.

‘Look, why don’t you go to bed? I’ll follow you up in a little while.’

‘Yeah, are you sure?’

‘Yes. I’ll be just a few minutes.’

Steve rose out of his seat and started to tidy up the newspaper but Dora removed it from him.

‘I’ll do that, you go on.’

He turned to her and smiled briefly before walking out of the kitchen, his shoulders hunched, a forlorn look on his face.

At the back door he paused, and for a second contemplated sleeping in his old room tonight. No, he couldn’t, he was just being stupid and stubborn. He couldn’t do that to Dora, on only their second night together, she would be devastated. He turned to look at her; she had her back to him, shovelling coal on the fire to bank it up. Besides he needed to be with her, he just hoped she understand that he didn’t think he could, well, be intimate tonight. As he made his way up the stairs, Dora wiped the tears from her eyes, the tears he hadn’t seen.

When Dora entered her room, their room now, Steve was already in bed, Tolkien’s ‘The Hobbit’ open in his hand, he had read it as a boy, but his copy had been stolen in the reform school, knowing how much he like it Dora had bought a new copy for his birthday last year. He closed the book with a sigh and placed in on the bedside table, he really couldn’t concentrate on it tonight.

Instead, he watched Dora intensely, as she got herself ready for bed. He eyed her as she undressed. He knew and loved every curve of her body. He could close his eyes at any time and picture the nakedness of her slim, young body. She had been shy at undressing in front of him at first, but now they were both comfortable with each other’s bodies, she secretly enjoying the delight he obviously got from eyeing her body.

Last night she had jumped eagerly into bed without nightclothes but tonight, given the events of the day and Steve’s melancholy mood, she thought it inappropriate. So she took a short nightdress out of a drawer and pulled it on over her head. Taking her brush she proceeded to smooth out her hair.

‘Why do women do that?’ thought Steve, his mood lifting slightly. ‘Because it only gets messed up again when sleeping!’ He decided he would ask her sometime.

Dora put down her brush and turned to get into bed to find the bedclothes turned down, Steve’s arms open to welcome her. She got in and snuggled up to him, her head on his chest, expecting no more than cuddles tonight. As Dora dozed, Steve laid there, his eyes wide open, thoughts racing in his head, he didn’t like the picture he saw in his mind when he closed them so he stared blankly at the ceiling. He wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight.

Eventually though, having seen the early hours of the morning, sleep did finally get the better of Steve. Dora herself had slept fitfully, aware of Steve’s restlessness.

‘NO!’

Dora woke with a start and reared up in bed. Her heart racing as she turned to Steve, who was sitting up, wide eyed, breathing rapidly, bathed in sweat, this causing his hair to stick in wet strands to his forehead.

‘Steve!’

Kneeling up beside him she grabbed his shoulders, shaking him gently trying to force him to focus on her then giving him a squeeze she tried to comfort him.

‘Steve, it’s okay, you’ve been dreaming.’

His eyes sought hers. ‘Dora.’ He gasped.

‘Shh! I’m here.’ She said softly, stroking his damp hair, pushing it off his face with her fingers. She held him as gradually his breathing returned to normal.

‘Was it the accident?’ she asked when he was calmer. He nodded. ‘It wasn’t your fault she died, you know.’

‘You don’t understand.’ He shook his head. ‘The rider, in my dream. It was, it was…you.’ He gulped back, what Dora was sure was a sob.

‘Oh Steve, but I’m here, look, I’m all right. It was just a bad dream’

He nodded again and sighed. ‘Yeah.’

‘Come on.’ She said soothingly. ‘Try and get back to sleep.’ She laid back and pulled him down beside her, cuddling and holding him until eventually they drifted off to sleep again.

Dora awoke the next morning with a heavy heart. She hated seeing Steve like that earlier; in fact, it had frightened her a little. She looked at him now, both his body and his face relaxed in sleep. She gently pushed his dark hair from his eyes and softly brushed his forehead with her lips. She decided not to wake him so quietly climbed out of bed and gathering her clothes made for the bathroom.

___

In the kitchen a while later she was making the tea when Ron strode in, removing his leather gloves and the scarf from around his neck. He began to make some sarcastic quip about missing out on Slugger’s breakfast today when he noticed the expression on her face and knew something was wrong. She looked so tired and unhappy.

‘You okay, girl?’ He threw a newspaper that had been tucked in his pocket on to the table, where it unfurled.

She looked at him and shook her head. She then proceeded to tell him about the disturbed night and Steve’s dream. It came out in one long sentence without stopping for breath. Ron walked over to her and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. ‘Where’s is he now?’

‘I left him sleeping. Oh Ron, I’m scared. We were so happy yesterday. And now.’ She let out a small sob, tears welling in her eyes. ‘I’m scared that things will change, that he will change.’ She put her head on his shoulders as he tightened his arm around her.

‘He’ll be all right. Just give him time.’

In the hall hidden by the half closed door, Steve breathed in deeply, holding it for second, he let it out slowly, blowing out his cheeks. Despite his heart feeling heavy, he breezed into the kitchen as Ron let Dora go.

‘Morning.’ He said cheerfully, a little too cheerfully. ‘Gosh, Ron, you’re early again.’

‘Morning, mate.’ Ron replied surprised at Steve’s mood.

‘Morning, girl.’ Steve planted a soft kiss on her lips, lingering for a second as his eyes looked into hers, noting the concern there he smiled. ‘ Where’s my tea?’ He asked brightly. Turning to pick his mug off the table, he saw the morning paper, laying open on the front page, the headlines jumped out at him. OLYMPIC HOPEFUL DIES IN HORRIFIC ACCIDENT. Beside the bold print was a photo of young girl, her eyes smiling underneath her blonde fringe.

‘Oh, my God!’ Steve exclaimed as he picked up the morning’s local paper. ‘Oh, my God.’ He repeated as his eyes scanned over the newsprint. Dora, by his side, gripped his arm tightly as she read the article over his shoulder.

‘I told you I recognised her, didn’t I. It was girl you spoke to at the horse trials, remember.’ He said to Dora turning to look at her. She nodded.

Dora and Steve, that September, had taken a few days off and made the trip down to Lincolnshire, where they had attended an annual event, the Burghley Horse Trials. Neither had been before, so they decided to take a short break, a sort of mini holiday. It was their first time away together and they chose to make the most of it and stay in a fairly posh hotel in the local town. It had been good to be on their own and to get to spend sometime with each other out of the confines of the farm and the daily grind of farm work. Dora had hoped that on their return to Follyfoot Steve would move into her room in the farmhouse. But he had indicated that he wasn’t quite ready. Not yet, anyway, so she didn’t push him. She had learnt that Steve needed to do things his own way. He could be as stubborn as the proverbial mule if he felt he was being bullied into anything, he would dig his heels in, just to be bloody minded sometimes, she thought.

They had really enjoyed themselves taking in as many events as they could. They had watched in awe as some the country’s top riders cleared jumps with names like ‘Daniel Lambert’s sofa’ and ‘the Coffin’ with ease. Both of them wishing they could have had a go at some of the jumps themselves. Dora, not backward at coming forward when it came to anything to do with horses, had spoken to many of the riders. One of them had been the young girl, who had ridden so marvellously and had been tipped to ride for Britain in the next Olympics. Dora recalled how the girl had enthused over riding especially show jumping and eventing, and how she was overjoyed at being considered to represent her country.

The newspaper had picked up on this. Noting how tragic it was that Britain had lost one of its’ brightest new stars in the horse jumping circles. That her family had not long moved to the area, buying the newly renovated Steadings just outside the nearby town. The paper described the awful roadside scene and that the ambulance crew had tried to revive her without success. Steve also got a brief mention, but not by name, being only described as “a kind young man, who had been one of the first on the scene and had tried, in vain, to help the girl, but that she tragically died before the emergency services arrived”

The paper went to name the dead driver as a Cambridge graduate, the son of a wealthy businessman, and that he had taken out the family’s new sports car without his father’s knowledge.

All the pretence gone, the false bright mood now disappeared, Steve dropped the paper back on the table not wanting to read any more. He leant on the table, closing his eyes and letting out long deep sigh, Dora’s arm around him, stroking his back to comfort him.

‘ You okay, Steve, mate.’ Ron looked on concerned. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought the paper here. It was a stupid thing to do.’

‘ It’s alright, mate. Would have seen it sooner or later, I suppose.’ Steve straightened up and turned to his workmate, touched over his concern. He put his arm round Dora’s shoulders and gave her a small smile, finding solace in her hazel eyes that smiled lovingly back at him.

‘I’m okay. Really.’ He said his dark eyes still focussed on hers.

Throughout the morning Steve tried to appear happy and light-hearted, particularly if Dora or Ron were about. But on his own, the melancholy mood would take over, he would stand still, shoulders hunched staring into space, lost in thought. If Dora saw him like this she would back away slightly then continue towards him, making a noise, so he would know she was about then he would abruptly continue with whatever chore he was doing at the time. Her heart ached at seeing him so sad. It was on one of these occasions that Dora told him that the police were there to see him.

‘I’ve shown them into the study.’ She told him as they walked together to the house. ‘Would you like me with you.’

‘No!’ he said abruptly then saw the hurt look on her face. ‘Thanks, girl, I’ll be all right.’ He said more softly and placed a hand gently on her arm before going into the study.

It was twenty minutes later when he saw the policemen out of the farmhouse.

‘Thank you, Mr Ross. We’ll be in touch again and let you know about the funeral.’

The sergeant had said as he left.

Dora who had been waiting in the kitchen heard this and when the police car had disappeared out of yard and Steve had walked back into the house, she tackled him about it.

‘You’re not thinking of going to the girl’s funeral are you?’ she asked sharply.

‘Yeah.’

‘ Do you think that’s wise, Steve?’

‘I don’t know, Dora.’ He replied quietly. ‘I just feel I ought to go.’ Then he added. ‘I need to go.’ He sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair and sat down heavily on a kitchen chair. Dora crouched down in front of him and placed her hands gently on his knees. Looking up at him she said more softly. ‘Do you think it will help, if you did?’

‘I hope, it might. I held her hand and watched her die, Dora. I can’t just leave it at that. Can I? She said something about telling her parents she was sorry, I wonder what she meant. Should I tell them, do you think? I don’t want to upset them more than necessary. Of course they might not even want me there.’ He rambled on.

‘ Maybe you should wait and see how the funeral goes, eh. Do you want me to come with you?’ she asked tentatively.

He nodded. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.’ In her heart Dora was pleased that he still needed her that he wasn’t shutting her out. She reached up, put her arms around his neck and gave him a loving hug. He was glad she was there for him. He knew he needed her more than ever. He vowed to himself to keep her safe. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to her.

Dora had wanted to send Ron to pick up Slugger from his sister’s that afternoon but Steve had insisted on going himself, almost arguing with Dora about it. So she relented on the condition that she went with him. She was glad that he chose a different route from the one he took the day before. She assumed it was because he didn’t wanted to be reminded of the accident and the place where the girl died. Steve, though, had taken the alternative route for Dora’s sake, not his. He hadn’t wanted her to witness the scars on the verge and road and especially not the bloodstain on the road from the dying horse.

___

Over the next few days Steve became more like his old self, only occasionally lapsing into the melancholy and thoughtful mood. Slugger tried to keep an eye on him when Dora wasn’t about. He was aware of the strain that the accident had put on their relationship and he was worried not only about Steve but about Dora too! The stress of her concern for Steve and his dark moods was taking its toll on her. Her usually pretty and healthy complexion had become pale and lined. But Slugger had his own worries over his sister. She had taken her husbands illness badly, and was finding it difficult to look after their market stall and the small-holding they ran between them, so Slugger began to visiting her at home and help out with chores there, so was often away from the farm. He was torn in two. On the one hand wanting to be at Follyfoot to give support to Steve and Dora and on the other needing to help his sister, whohad given him so much support when his own wife had become ill and in the weeks after her death.

There was one thing that had begun to concern Dora about Steve; in fact she found it slightly unnerving. She felt he was becoming a little too possessive, wanting to be with her, know where she was all the time and especially about her going out riding on her own. As she rode in to the village now, all she could think about was the distressing scene that had taken place between her and Steve not five minutes ago. Tears started to well up in her eyes, giving the road ahead of her a blurred outline, as she recalled their heated conversation. She had been leading Copper into the yard after saddling him up, when Steve had stormed over to her demanding to know where she was going.

‘Just to the village to post some letters, I won’t be long.’ She said.

‘I’ll go. I’ll take the truck. It will be quicker.’

‘It’s okay. Copper’s all saddle up and raring to go.’ She said light-heartedly.

‘You’re not going by the road, are you?’ he asked sharply.

‘Of course, I am, Steve. It’s the way we always go. It’s the quickest way. What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing.’ He retorted. ‘I just don’t see why you have to ride to village, that’s all.’

‘Because I want to.’ She said getting frustrated.

‘Your not even wearing a riding hat! You should be!’ His dark eyes blazed at her.

‘Steve.’ She said softly. ‘Nothings going to happen to me. If you insist I’ll wear a hat but I’m going to village anyway. You can’t stop me’ She continued more harshly.

‘Please yourself, you usually do.’ He said nastily as he walked away.

‘Steve!’ she called after him.

‘What?’

‘I’ll be no more than twenty minutes, I promise.’ She said softly trying to appease him.

‘Okay.’ Was all he said as he continued walking without looking back? She had taken a velvet hard hat from a peg in the tack room and trotted angrily out of the yard.

Back at the farm, pacing the kitchen, Steve was also thinking about that conversation. He felt really bad about the way he had spoken to her. He was afraid for her, that’s all. Afraid that some maniac driver would come and take her away from him. He knew it was stupid to think like that. But he couldn’t help it. He didn’t know what he would do if he lost her. Every now and then he looked up at the clock, after twenty-one minutes had past since Dora left, he grabbed the Land Rover keys from the kitchen table and sprinted outside. Just as he reached the farmhouse gate Dora and Copper trotted into the yard. As she looked at him, he bowed his head as if ashamed and stuffed the keys in his pocket out of sight. She mustn’t guess that he was about to go and search for her. She halted Copper in front of him and he waited for her to dismount.

‘Dora. I’m sorry.’ He stood in front of her, his eyes looking straight into hers. He swallowed hard. ‘I just couldn’t bear it if anything happen to you.’

‘Steve.’ She reached out and placed her hands on his arms, stroking them reassuringly. ‘I do understand. I know you just want to look after me, protect me and, Steve, I wouldn’t have it any other way, but I told you; nothing’s going to happen to me. What happened to Debbie was a freak accident, one in a million? It’s not going to happen to me, I promise. Nothing and nobody is going to take me away from you. But if it makes you feel better I’ll wear a whole suit of armour when out riding.’ She said smiling at him.

He laughed more at ease now. ‘No, it’s okay. I think that might be taking it a little too far. Besides it will make kissing and cuddling rather awkward.’

‘Talking of kissing.’ She moved her arms up entwining them around his neck she pulled him towards her. He wrapped his own arms around her back as they kissed lovingly, both relieved that the argument was over. But Steve knew nothing would be back to as it was until the funeral was over and he could put this nightmare behind him.

___

The girl’s funeral had been arranged for the Monday morning of the week after next. The delay was due to the police inquiry and the fact that there was a strike by council gravediggers. So the Saturday afternoon before saw Dora and Steve taking a trip into the town, as Steve didn’t own a dark suit or any suitable clothing to wear for a funeral apart from a white shirt and a black tie that Slugger had lent him. In a high street men’s outfitters Steve tried on several different suits with obvious reluctance on his part judging by the strained and embarrassed look on his face. Dora was amused by this but did understand, she hated clothes shopping too. Well, some of the time, she was a girl after all! On his third emergence from the fitting room, Dora caught her breath; he had on a really nice dark grey suit that fitted him beautifully, showing off his slim build to perfection. He looked gorgeous. Another woman browsing in the store with her husband obviously thought so too, judging by the audible ‘wow’ Dora heard from her. Dora smiled smugly to herself, she was really proud of her boyfriend and the fact that other women found him attractive.

Dora offered to pay for the suit that was a little more than Steve had intended to spend. She still had money from her parents for buying her own clothes but she had enough clothes for any occasion so hadn’t use it. Amazingly enough she hadn’t spent it on her horse or Follyfoot either. But Steve had protested, he hated the thought of Dora’s money, or rather her parents’ money being spent on him. Even when she insisted that she wanted to, as a gift because she loved him. He still thought of it as charity. They compromised by deciding it would be just a loan that Steve would pay it back out of his wages but she thought quietly to herself that she would conveniently forget about.

___

The day of the funeral arrived and Steve walked into the kitchen dressed in his new suit awkwardly pulling at the black tie around his neck. He hated wearing them; he felt they choked him, no matter how loosely he tied them.

Dora was already waiting in the kitchen wearing a short black shift dress and a three quarter length black coat that Steve hadn’t seen before. But then he knew she had a whole trunk full of expensive clothes, shoved in a corner of the spare room, which she no longer had the need or the occasions to wear. Some of the dresses were too pretty to be tucked out of sight all the time, he decided, so he’d just have to take her some where nice every now and then so she could show them off, and he could show his beautiful girl off too. That was for some other time; he had to get through today.

By the time Steve and Dora entered the small Gothic church at the edge of the local town, it was nearly full. They sat at the back behind two rows of schoolgirls and boys in uniform, presumably Debbie’s classmates; they all look about her age. Some of the girls were crying uncontrollably, comforted by friends, even before the service started. Also there were some members of the national show jumping fraternity, a few that Dora and Steve recognised from their occasional attendance at local events.

In front of the altar sat an oak coffin decked with three wreaths of flowers one of which was in the shape of a horse’s head. Rosettes also adorned the coffin.

Steve hadn’t thought about flowers but Dora’s had suggested stopping at the florist on the way, where they picked up the small posy now clutched in Dora’s hand.

The service was short, only lasting about thirty minutes but could not have been more moving. Two popular hymns were sung, one of Debbie’s grandfathers read the eulogy and one of her friends read out a poem written for her by her classmates, this brought tears to most of the congregation. The vicar talked of her love for horses, her once promising future and her zest for life. Steve’s gazed would often enlighten on the father who sat next to the aisle, his face buried in his hands for most of the time, only looking up to comfort his wife. Steve’s heart went out to him, as he was obviously and understandably extremely distraught. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to lose a child.

At the graveside afterwards, Steve and Dora once more stood back from the main funeral party. Not wanting to intrude on this grieving family whom they didn’t know and who had no idea who they were either. It was only when the service had finished and the majority of people had dispersed that Steve ventured forward to place the flowers by the grave. Pausing only briefly for contemplation, he turned took hold of Dora’s hand and walked away, making their way back to Land Rover which they had parked out of sight around the corner from the church. It was as they were leaving the cemetery that someone spoke to them.

‘Excuse me.’

They turned to see a middle-aged couple walking towards them. Steve recognised the man as the father. Holding on to the man’s arm for support was presumably Debbie’s mother, her eyes red from crying.

‘You’re Steven Ross, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, I am.’ Steve replied hesitantly.

‘We’re Deborah’s parents. John and Margaret Gray.’ The man held out his hand to Steve, who shook it nervously. Steve didn’t know what to say. What could he say to this bereaved couple whose world had been torn apart by the lost of their daughter. He offered his hand to Mrs Gray, who took it in her gloved hand. He introduced Dora who smile shyly at them.

‘We wanted to thank you for trying to help her.’

‘You don’t have to thank me. I didn’t… I couldn’t do anything.’ His voice began to break. ‘I couldn’t do anything to save her. I’m sorry!’

‘ We know.’ Mrs Gray put her hand on her husband’s arm then spoke to Steve. ‘You were with her when she died, though.’ Steve nodded as she continued shakily. ‘We are just grateful that she wasn’t on her own, grateful that you were there. We were told that she wouldn’t have been in much pain, and didn’t suffer. We are thankful for that.’

Steve didn’t, couldn’t say anything; he wasn’t to sure about the last statement but wouldn’t add to the Gray’s hurt by saying so.

‘We need to ask, did she speak to you? Did she say any thing before ….?’

Steve sighed and glanced briefly at Dora. ‘Yes.’ He said quietly. ‘She did. She said to tell you she was sorry. I don’t know what about. Unless it was about… Perhaps you know.’

Mrs Gray began to cry so it was her husband that answered after a short pause. ‘Yes. We had an argument with her before she went out. You see, she wouldn’t wear her riding hat. Knew she should have, always wore it when jumping and competing, but didn’t see the need when just hacking about locally. Wasn’t ‘cool’, apparently. She’d always loved horses, had done since she was little, wanted to make a career out of them but she had just discovered boys, taken a liking to one in the next village I’m told. Bit of a rough lad, been in trouble with the police. We tried to encourage her to mix with the nice boys at horse shows but she wouldn’t listen.’ He looked at his wife. ‘Thought this lad would laugh at her if she wore a hat! She was a beautiful girl. I should have made her wear it. Shouldn’t I?’ He looked at Steve with overwhelming sadness in his eyes.

Steve glanced at Dora and catching her expression sighed deeply, the story had a familiar ring to it! ‘You mustn’t blame yourselves. It wasn’t your fault. If you want to blame anyone, blame the bas…’ Steve stopped himself. ‘The driver of the sports car. Or me? Maybe I should have done something to stop him overtaking me. To stop him speeding around that bend!’

‘Steve.’ Dora gripped his hand tightly. ‘Don’t.’

‘No, please don’t blame yourself, you did everything you could, we know that. You’re a nice young man; wish all young people were like you. You’re the type of person Debbie should have mixed with.’ The mother said gently touching his arm. Steve wondered what she’d think if only she knew! Turning to Dora she continued. ‘You’re very lucky. You must be really proud of him.’

‘I am. Very.’ She looked at him, her eyes full of love and pride. She knew what Steve was thinking.

At that moment a young girl called out from behind them. As she walked up to the older couple, Steve’s heart flew into his mouth, she a spitting image of the dead girl, it was only when she turned to look at Steve that he saw she was about two or three years younger. She cuddled up to her father who put his arm around her protectively.

‘This is our other daughter, Lucy.’ Mrs Gray introduced her.

‘Hello.’ Steve said as he held out his hand to her. She took it gingerly and gave it a small shake. Her face was pale and sad.

‘Hello. You’re the man who was with my sister when she died, aren’t you?’ She said in a matter of fact way.

‘Yes, I am. I’m sorry about your sister.’

‘Her horse died too.’ She said sadly. Steve just nodded knowingly.

‘Lucy hasn’t ridden her horse since, have you, my love? Don’t know if we want her to.’ Her mother said. The girl looked as if she might cry. Had it been said to her that the same thing could happen to her?

Dora leaned forward and spoke softly to the girl. ‘Maybe you should, perhaps not now but sometime soon. It might help you. Horses are very perceptive to their rider’s feelings, you know. Was yours stabled with your sisters?’ Dora asked. Lucy nodded. ‘Then your horse is probably missing it’s friend and needs comfort too. You can help each other. You know it wasn’t your sister’s horse’s fault. Do you think she would have wanted you to give up riding?’

‘ No, I don’t. Nothing would have stopped her riding. She was going to be the best in the world, you know. Do you have horses?’ Lucy asked a little more brightly now.

Dora glanced at Steve then concentrated on Lucy again. ‘Yes, lots of them. Some people might say too many.’ She took another sly glance at Steve, who winked at her. ‘Most are old and can’t be ridden and some we take in for schooling. But Steve and I have our own which we ride whenever we can. I can’t imagine not riding my horse ever again.’

Steve smiled to himself as he listened intently to Dora’s words of comfort and encouragement to the younger girl. She used the same calming manner she used on the horses and it seemed to work. He just hoped Dora wouldn’t invite her to Follyfoot; he wasn’t being heartless, he just couldn’t face being reminded of the dead girl every time her sister visited.

‘I think I will go to the stable and see Pippin tomorrow. If that’s alright?’ Lucy said confidently looking at her parents. ‘Mummy, Daddy.’ She continued. ‘ I don’t want to give up riding. I owe it to Debbie to carry on. You never know, one day I might take the place on the Olympic team she should have had. I would do it for Debbie.’ She turned back to Dora and Steve and smiled.

Steve, noticing that the vicar and other members of the Grays’ family were still waiting patiently by the church, decided that it was time he and Dora left this family to their grieving. Offering his condolences again, he shook their hands and said goodbye. They in return thanked him profusely once more. As he turned and walked away he took hold of Dora’s hand, finding comfort in its warmth and softness. He squeezed her hand affectionately and she tightened her grip on his in reply. He sighed with relief, glad that the funeral was over and he hopefully could get back to normal now. He certainly wouldn’t want to go through the past weeks experience again. If it taught him one thing though, it was to embrace life and not to take anything or anyone for granted. All he wanted now was to be a proper boyfriend to Dora and finally enjoy his new life in the farmhouse with her.

Dora decided that Steve still seemed a little preoccupied with his thoughts when they arrived back at the truck, so taking the keys from him she got into the driver’s seat. Steve didn’t protest as he opened the passenger door and sat down next to her. Dora hated driving the aged Land Rover, she found it both cumbersome and temperamental. The gears always scrunched and protested at her driving and she virtually had to stand on the brakes to get it to stop. Steve insisted it was her not the truck. Neither he or Ron, or Slugger for that matter ever had any problems with it. You had to treat it like a lady, he had told her. And, she thought, if he handled the truck in any way like he handled her, no wonder it purred contently whenever he drove it.

They started the journey back to Follyfoot in companionable silence that was only punctuated by Dora’s muttered, unladylike, expletives as the gears once more groaned in pain. She felt him winced beside her at the noise then he gently placed his hand on her leg and squeeze it reassuringly. She glanced sideways at him and caught his eye as he smiled at her.

‘Pull over for a minute, will you, girl?’ he said as they neared the junction that would take them down the lane to Follyfoot.

At the next gateway, Dora, with another scrunch of the gears and a hard stomp on the brakes, made the truck come to a halt. Without speaking Steve got out, walked round to the front of the vehicle and leaning back perched himself on the warm bonnet. Dora follow him, pulled her coat tightly around her and standing quietly by his side put her arm though his.

‘Are you okay, Steve?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, I’m fine, thanks Dora, you don’t have to keep asking me, you know.’ He bit back another retort realising that she was just concerned for him. She seemed to have to keep reassuring herself that he was all right. ‘Just needed some air, that’s all. And I was thinking of that poor family and the girl. What a waste of young life! It’s just not fair, is it?’ Taking his arm from hers and draping it around her shoulders, he pulled her to him, her warmth and closeness relaxing him.

They stood, huddled together gazing over the fields where Follyfoot could clearly be seen nestling in the shallow valley, its solid stone buildings lit up by the yellow sunlight and the lake reflected the blue near cloudless sky. There were dark clouds on the horizon but they were too far away to spoil the idyllic view. The last few days had been wet and windy but this morning the dawn had brought a more settled day that, although chilly was bright and clear. They watched as the more hardy of the horses and ponies ambled about and grazed in the autumn meadow, happy to have the sun on their backs again, if only for a short while, the Yorkshire weather being ever unpredictable.

‘Just look at that, Dora.’ Steve sighed. ‘Isn’t that just the best sight in the world. Where else would you want to be.’

‘Nowhere, Steve. It’s beautiful, makes you glad to be alive, doesn’t it?’ She drew in her breath sharply. ‘Oh, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.’ She looked at Steve as he gave a small smile.

‘Why not? It’s true. We’re so lucky, Dora, look at what we got. All this.’ He gestured to the scene before them. And putting his earlier thought into words continued. ‘We have an awful lot to be thankful for. But we have to make sure we don’t take it for granted. Make sure too, we don’t take each other for granted. You never know what’s around the corner. It could be all be gone tomorrow!’

‘Steve! Don’t talk like that. I don’t like it.’ Dora said defiantly.

‘I didn’t mean…’ He sighed turning to face her, his eyes focusing intensely on hers. ‘I didn’t mean it to sound like it did. Today, at the funeral, it suddenly hit me. If the last few weeks have taught me anything, it’s to grab life with both hands, to make the most of every day. Life’s for living, Dora. It’s too short to worry over petty arguments and silly moans and groans about; oh I don’t know, the weather, work, money and even that lazy git, Ron. Don’t worry, girl. I hope to, want to spend the rest of my days with you. And I intended that to be ‘til we are old and grey. That’s if you can put up with me for that long!’

‘Oh, Steve, of course I can, if you can put up with me, and our little disagreements, I don’t think they’ll ever go away, do you. They are a part of us; it’s part of both our natures to be argumentative. Beside I like the making up afterwards.’ She smiled cheekily at him. ‘We’ll just have to promise not to take them too seriously!’ As he went to say something, she placed her finger on his lips. ‘And no arguments, okay!’

‘Okay, Miss Bossy boots. Bet you won’t argue about this, though.’ Wrapping his arms tightly around her back, he drew her to him and kissed her longingly. They eventually parted reluctantly and once again gazed at the breath taking view of the place they both loved, before deciding it was time to go…home.

As Dora sat back into the driver’s seat, Steve placed a hand on her shoulder and stopped her as she turned the key in the ignition.

‘I think I’d better drive. We need the truck for another day!’ he laughed as he waited for her as she move over to the passenger seat and tugging at the hated tie, pulled it off and stuffed it in his pocket as he got in beside her. Steve gently eased the truck back onto the road without one complaint from the gears as they completed their journey back to Follyfoot.

___

After supper later that evening Steve disappeared. Dora found him in Copper’s stall, he was talking to her horse, who appeared to be listening intensely, his ears pricked forward towards Steve’s voice. Pausing briefly outside the stable, she tried to hear what he was saying but only managed to pick out her name. Walking quietly through the door, she did hear the end of the one-way conversation.

‘So Copper, what do you think?’

‘Do you expect him to give you an sensible answer?’ she said as she entered the stall, causing Steve to swing round abruptly.

‘Christ, girl. Don’t do that. You made me jump.’ He said as he put his hand on his chest as if to hold in his heart.

‘Sorry! I just came to see where you were and if you were all right.’ She said, a concern note in her voice.

There she goes again Steve thought to himself. ‘I’m fine, Dora, really.’ A big smile lit up his face and Dora heaved a sigh of relief. The permanent scowl had gone from his face and his dark eyes had that sparkle in them once more. ‘ Dora.’ He continued. ‘I want to apologise for the way I have been just lately. I can’t have been very easy to live with. I am really sorry!’

‘Don’t be silly, Steve. You’ve nothing to be sorry about. I understand. I’m just glad to have my old Steve back, the one I know and love so much.’

Steve smiled and reddened slightly. ‘Thanks anyway, for putting up with me. You’re the best do you know that? I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you.

‘Oh Steve.’ She walked over to him and put her arms around his neck as he pulled her into his embrace. Wrapping their arms tightly around each other, they brought their lips together, but at the first tentative touch, Copper’s nose pushed between them, shoving them apart. This at first startled Dora and Steve then they burst out laughing.

‘I think Copper’s jealous!’ Steve said once more putting his arms around Dora. ‘Thought you be use to us now, boy. She my girl too, you know, not just yours.’ Steve spoke to the horse, patting his shoulder playfully. Dora thought for a moment then said. ‘Steve, what were you talking about to Copper before I came in? Was it me?’

‘ That would be telling, wouldn’t it, old boy.’ He stroked Copper’s nose. ‘Hey, were you listening?’

‘I just caught my name, that’s all.’

‘We were just having a chat about the girl we both love, weren’t we, Copper? A man to man chat, well, a man to horse, actually I was doing all the talking, he doesn’t say much, does he? But you’re a good listener aren’t you, boy.’ He grinned and turned back to the horse and once more patted and stroked the strong neck. He looked back at Dora and sighed, smiling at her, he continued. ‘I’ll tell you about it one day, I promise.’

Dora wasn’t put out, she was glad that Steve and Copper got on so well. She smiled, a thoughtful look on her face, as an idea came into her head. She absently reached up and stroked Copper’s nose gently as she looked at Steve and said. ‘Steve, what about tomorrow?’

Steve frowned. ‘Tomorrow?’ he asked puzzled.

‘How about an early morning ride tomorrow. And you can ride Copper. Would you like to?’ she continued to stroke the chestnut horse, all the while gazing into Steve’s dark eyes, awaiting his reply.

Steve looked from Dora to Copper then back to Dora again and grinned at her. ‘Yeah, I like to, if you’re sure.’ She nodded.

‘Well, then.’ He said as he took her hand and led her out of Copper’s stall and into the yard, pulling the stable door to and bolting it behind him. ‘If we’re going riding at the crack of dawn, we’d better get an early night tonight.’ He continued with a twinkle in his eye and a big grin on his face.

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