The Dark Horse

It was intended that this came before ‘The Heartache’ but I’ll leave it to the readers to place it where they think best.

Dora, standing before her bedroom window, yawned, stretched, and then taking hold of the faded flowery curtains, drew them gingerly apart.

“Well…world, what do have in store today?” she asked out loud then instantly screwed up her nose as she saw the light drizzly rain trickling down the windowpane.

Looking up at the overcast sky, the grey clouds interspersed with white, she sighed despondently. They were in for yet another wet day but then, on noticing the patch of blue in the distance yonder and the morning sun peeking under the clouds, her face brightened. Obviously just one of Slugger’s clearing up showers, she thought to herself as she pushed at the old sash window and, protesting noisily, it opened with a shudder. She leaned out; the warm summer breeze caught her unbuttoned blouse, causing it to billow open, exposing her white lacy bra and the smooth pale skin of her trim midriff. For a few brief seconds she closed her eyes and allowed the breeze to caress her bare skin like gentle fingers, the soft rain moisten her face. Opening her eyes again, she slowly began to fasten her blouse; a movement in the yard caught her gaze. She smiled as she watched Steve move from stable to stable opening up each of the doors in turn and greeting the horses stabled within with a bright “Good morning.” Each replied with a loud whinny, excited at the prospect of the breakfast that was soon to come.

At Copper’s door he paused patting the bay horse on the neck, who returned Steve’s greeting by nuzzling at his hair. Dora was very possessive regarding her horse and liked to be the first one to greet Copper in the morning but somehow she didn’t mind so much Steve beating her to it. If she couldn’t entrust her best friend with her beloved horse then whom could she trust? Judging by the length of time, Steve spent at Copper’s stable; he appeared to be having quite a conversation with the bay horse. Was it about her, she wondered? As if to answer her query, Steve turned and looked up at her bedroom window and on seeing Dora; he gave a small and somewhat embarrassed wave and called out to her.

“Good morning, lazy bones!” He shouted up at her.

“Morning to you too!” she called back; reddening slightly as she realised her blouse wasn’t completely fastened, leaving her bra exposed. She hoped Steve couldn’t see from the yard, or then maybe, she hoped he could!

As the morning wore on, the rain ceased and the day became warm and sunny, turning into a glorious summer’s day. Too nice for working, Dora thought to herself, as she emptied the last of the bedding onto the ever-growing muckheap. Dropping the wheelbarrow noisily on the cobbles, she stood; her eyes closed, and allowed the sun’s rays to gently warm her face.

“What’s this, turning into Ron?”

She physically jumped and turning around quickly, came face to face with Steve, standing close behind her, so close that she could have with only a slight movement of her hand reached out and pushed back the lock of dark hair that had been blown by the gentle breeze over his face. She could have, if only she’d had the nerve.

“Gosh, Steve, you made me jump.” She placed a hand on her heart as if to contain it in her chest.

“Yes, I know.” He laughed, his dark eyes sparkling. “Given up on work, have you?”

“Er…no…I was just…” Dora stammered, embarrassed at being caught out, doing nothing for a brief moment, unaware at first that Steve was just teasing.

“Hey, I was only joking. You don’t need to make excuses, you’re the boss.” He grinned at her. She felt like thumping him for his tease.

“Oh Steve, it’s too nice a day to be working. It would be a great day for riding.” She said, looking longingly at the rolling fields and distant hills.

“Um…pity we don’t have the time.” He sighed following her gaze. “Do you regret coming here? Getting mixed up with this place, I mean?” Steve said quietly gesturing with his hand, around the farmyard.

“No, of course. Why do you say that?” Dora asked puzzled. Steve, of all people, knew exactly why she was here and what she thought of Follyfoot.

He shrugged, moving to her side, he averted his eyes and gazed out at the green field and the lake beyond.

“It’s just…, born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you can have, do anything you want.” He said it without malice, just as a fact. She stared at him as he continued. “You could be gallivanting all over the world with your parents, seeing all those far off, exotic places, basking in luxury or even staying at the Colonel’s posh house, living like ‘Lady Muck’, riding those beautiful thoroughbreds, all day, every day, if you want.” He let out a sigh. “Here you’re just… ‘Lady mucking out’.” He nodded at the muckheap and gave a small chuckle, turning to smile at her.

“But Steve, here is where I want to be, you know that. Don’t you think that if I wanted that kind of life I would have chosen it? I could never be happy anywhere else but here, no matter how beautiful or exotic, the other side of the world might be. I suppose I’ve already had that kind of life to a degree, the expensive clothes, the foreign holidays and the exclusive tea parties.” She said a wistful look on her face. “But I love Follyfoot, the horses, and the people.” Especially you, she had wanted to add but didn’t have the bravado to do so. “I was just feeling sorry for myself. If I’ve got work for a living, then what better place than here, outside in this beautiful weather.”

“Yeah.” Steve sighed, nodding in agreement. “Why don’t you take the afternoon off? Go for your ride. You deserve it.”

“I don’t know?” she frowned as she contemplated the idea.

“Go on.” He winked at her.

She had to admit the idea was tempting. It was too perfect a day, not to take advantage of it. Just the thought of the wind through her hair and the sun on her back was making the idea more and more desirable. For a brief moment she allowed herself to picture the scene, her and Copper galloping over fields, on and on for as long as they wished. And by her side, Steve and his horse, Alex, completed the idyllic picture.

“Okay, but only if you come with me.” Her voice was insistent.

“Um… I don’t know, Dora.” Steve furrowed his brow in thought. “There’s still things to be done here.”

“Like what?” Dora asked impatiently. She had hoped he would have been more enthusiastic about accompanying her on the ride.

“Like…like, shifting all that feed to the shed, for a start” He pointed to the mountain of sacks at the gate, delivered by the feed merchant a few hours before.

“Ron can do it.”

“Ron? Yeah right, he’s disappeared YET again.” Steve replied scornfully.

“If you won’t come, or… don’t want to come, well... I won’t go either. I’ll stay here and help you.”

Steve caught the look of disappointment, not to mention hurt, on her face. Did she really think he didn’t want to go riding with her? Nothing would give him more pleasure; he loved riding with her. It was a time when they were especially relax in each other company, she would open up to him, talk to him about anything and everything, tell him about her dreams and fears. He cherished the time alone with her, every last second of it. He hated the occasions she went out on her own. He was not only envious but missed her presence around the farm like mad. Somehow Follyfoot wasn’t the same when she wasn’t around however brief her absence.

“Please Steve.” She gently touched his arm. “I’ll go and find Ron; I know all his hiding places even if he thinks I don’t. I’ll chivvy him out and use my feminine charms on him regarding the feed, if you’ll saddle up Copper and Alex, okay?” Her hazel eyes pleaded with him and he was powerless to resist.

“Sure, why not” he said at last, her feminine charms definitely worked on him. “And good luck with Ron.” He smiled as they parted company, Dora making her way to the hay barn, Ron’s favourite skiving places and Steve to Alex’s stable.

-----

“Wow that was brilliant.” Dora puffed, trying to catch her breath, as she and Steve pulled up their horses at the edge of the wood. She leaned forwarded and hugged Copper’s neck. “Well done, boy. Did you enjoy that?” Copper nodded his head furiously and snorted in reply, pawing at he ground with delight. “I think he did.” Dora laughed.

Steve jumped down from his saddle with a flourish and stroked his grey horse’s shoulders affectionately. “I think they both did. I know I did. Phew… I’m puffed out now.” He fingered combed his long, windswept dark hair back into place.

They had started out with the intention of having a slow and ambling ride but the two horses had had other ideas. Given their head they had galloped off as if in a race and had ridden hard around the edges of fields and across the meadow that at this time of year was filled with wild flowers, until the fence around the wood had barred their way.

Steve watched as Dora dismounted and rubbed the numbness from her small backside.

“I could do that.” Steve hadn’t realised he had spoken out loud until it was too late.

“Sorry Steve, what did you say? I was miles away.” She said apologetically. Wishing it was your hands that were massaging my aches away, she had been thinking dreamily.

“What, oh, I was just saying I’m glad you persuaded me to come along.” He said relieved she hadn’t heard his first comment, or was he?

“So am I. Rides are so much more fun with the two of us.”

“I thought you liked being on your own, just you and Copper.” He quizzed her.

“I did, I do now and then, but I much prefer it when it’s you and I.” She replied a slight blush creeping to her cheeks.

Steve was leaning with his back against the fence, absentmindedly watching the two horses munching happily at the lush green grass. Behind him rustling could be heard in the wood, a fox or a deer perhaps. So used to nature’s noises, as they both were, neither were disturbed by it, or took much notice of the noise.

Dora moved positioning herself next to him, her arm just touching his. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.

“I love that smell.”

“Smell, what smell?” Steve asked puzzled. Perhaps it was the aftershave he had just happened to splash on quickly, prior to starting out on the ride.

“The smell of the fresh clean earth after a shower of rain and the warmth of sun bringing out the scent of the flowers. Can’t you smell the wild garlic from the wood?”

Steve sniffed the air. “Yeah. Hey, can you eat it? Maybe we should take some home to spice up Slugger’s cooking.

“Or to disguise the burnt bits.” Dora laughed softly and Steve with her. It was always good to hear her laugh, he thought.

They stood for a few moments in companionable silence before Steve spoke, his voice soft and quiet.

“Dora…there’s a new band trying out at the village pub on Friday…would you like to go…you know…with me?” He asked hesitantly, tucking his thumbs into his jeans’ pockets and shifting from one foot to the other nervously. Stupidly, he felt like a teenager asking a girl to the school disco!

Dora swivelled round quickly to face him. Did she hear right, was Steve asking her out on a date? Her heart began to beat faster, pounding like mad in her chest.

“Steve, I’d love to… did you say Friday?”

“Yeah.” Immediately his face brightened at her affirmative answer.

“Oh no, Steve, I’m sorry…I can’t make it?” She said despondently.

Steve’s heart sank. “It’s okay, it don’t matter.” He turned away, and focussed his attention on a yellowhammer sitting on the fence a few yards away merrily singing its heart out. It’s ‘little bit of bread and no cheese’ song usually so endearing now irritated him. What right did it have to be tweeting away so cheerfully when he’d just been blown over?

“Steve.” Dora placed her hand on his arm gently, turning him to face her. “But you don’t understand I really would love to come…only I have to go to a charity dinner. I promised Uncle. He can’t attend so asked if I would go in his place. I don’t really want to go. It will, no doubt be awfully boring. But he’s already told Lady Beck that I’m going to be representing him. I’m sorry. I’d much rather come out with you, honestly.”

“It’s okay, I do understand.” He said scathingly, unable to look her in the eye. “Lady Beck...eh… I suppose ‘Lord’ Beck will be there.” He couldn’t hide the sarcasm from his voice when he spoke of the good looking son of the well to do Lady Beck. Or the look of jealousy in his eyes as he let his guard down and showed his true feelings for a brief second.

Dora sighed. Why on earth did he have to spoil such a beautiful afternoon? Why did he have to see the bad in everything? It annoyed her that he could turn so moody and sullen in a flash.

“I don’t know and quite frankly, I don’t care.” She said calmly, she had no intention of initiating a fight. “And I don’t want any talk of match making again. I had enough of that the last time, remember, you and Ron teasing me about it? I could have killed the both of you.” She smiled feigning annoyance. “I have no interest, whatsoever, in Lord Beck. Please believe me, Steve. He’s an arrogant upper class twit!” She poked him in his ribs playfully, trying to lighten the moment.

“Okay.” He wanted so much to believe her but… He managed a smile.

“Hey, that hurt.” He rubbed his side, before reaching out and making a grab for her, tickling her as he did so. Giggling she turned away and made a half-hearted attempt to escape his clutches. But he grasped her arm and pulled her towards him. Stumbling on a tussock of grass, she caught hold of his shirt to steady herself. Regaining her balance she looked up to find his face only inches away from hers and his dark eyes staring into her own. What was it about those eyes? His strong arms entwined around her, holding her, stopping her from falling to the ground, which was just as well as her legs began to turn to jelly. Her breathing quickened and her heart began to beat frantically, she was sure he must be able to hear it, but Steve’s own heart was thumping like hell, and so loud nothing else was audible to his ears. They stood transfixed on each other for what seems like hours, neither willing nor wanting to break the spell. At last Steve opened his mouth to speak. Dora found herself holding her breath in anticipation.

He swallowed hard and bit his bottom lip nervously. “Dora…can I …may I…?” The rest of the sentence remained unsaid as a loud strangled neighing sound emanated from the wood behind them. Dora tore her gaze from Steve and gasped. Copper and Alex had heard too and had ceased their grazing, giving a long whinny in reply.

“Steve, a pony!” Dora exclaimed.

Reluctantly Steve let go of her and cursing under his breath turned around to follow Dora’s gaze. There poking out from under the branches of a beech tree was the black head of horse, its large eyes staring in fright; the tall thick brambles that covered the fence obscured the rest of its body.

A horse, a bloody horse, Steve thought, he might have known a flipping horse would come between them yet again. He wouldn’t be surprised if Dora conjured them up on purpose. What he would give for just ten minutes of her time, ten minutes when she concentrated solely on him, ten minutes when she wasn’t thinking of damn horses! It was no good, while people, especially him, were of less importance than horses; theirs could be nothing more than a platonic relationship, a relationship built around the horses and work. He might as well give up trying to make it anything else.

“Steve, I wondered where he’s come from?” Her hand was already reaching over the fence, gently trying to persuade the horse to come to her. At first he backed away, and then gradually inched closer, his nose stretching out to sniff her hand but the brambles got in the way and he snorted impatiently.

“What?” Steve shook his previous thoughts to the back of his mind. “He probably belongs to the gypsies. They’re no doubt encamped up in the clearing again.”

“Well, we can’t leave him here.” Her eyes were already scanning the fence for a way in.

“Yes, we can. Look, he’s haltered, he obviously belongs to somebody.” Steve pointed out.

“But it’s old and worn, and broken too!” Dora said noting that the side strap of the horse’s halter had completely frayed and snapped. “Come on, I must at least go and have a look at it. How do we get in the wood from here?” The brambles were overgrown all along the edge and there was barbwire around the fence. They would be scratched to pieces if they tried to climb over.

“Dora!” Steve threw her warning look.

“No, Steve. I’m not going to just leave it. I have to see that it’s all right and find its owner… If it has one, that is?” She added.

Steve sighed. It was pointless arguing with her. She always got her own way in the end.

“There’s an entrance around the side, where the fence has been taken away.” He walked over to where Copper and Alex were stood watching with interest the dark stranger in the wood.

“Okay. You stay here with Copper and Alex, and watch out for anybody and I’ll find my way around to the horse.” She started to move along the fence.

“No, no way, girl. You’re not going in there on your own. Come on, you two.” He grabbed Copper and Alex’s reins and tugging at them, followed Dora. Despite his past friendship with the gypsy girl, Tina, or had it been an love affair, Dora was never quite sure how far their relationship had gone; Steve still had a distrust of the gypsy community.

She allowed him to lead the way. At the gap in the fence they tied up the horses and proceeded into the wood, making their way in the general direction of the horse. Dora called softly. Within minutes came the unmistakeable whinny of a horse, and the muffled sound of hooves on the leaf and twig littered floor, and the black pony appeared. Only it wasn’t black, in the less dense part of the wood, the dappled sunlight revealed him to be a dark chocolate brown colour. He was thin and his mane and tail were matted with burrs and pieces of twig.

“Oh Steve, the poor thing.” Dora approached the pony slowly, holding out her hand once more. The pony gingerly made his way closer and before long was enjoying the pats and strokes, Dora was freely giving. Horses seemed to instinctively know that Dora was no threat, and that she was kind and gentle and only wanted to help them.

Steve stood beside her and blew out his cheeks. He ran an expert hand over the pony’s shoulder and down its foreleg. He let out a whistle.

“It seems to have a sprained fetlock, probably from galloping over the rough and uneven ground in here.” He glanced around the wood.

He turned to Dora just as she looked around at him. She found herself once more gazing into his beautiful dark brown eyes, her own searching his for the look that had been there, not so long ago.

“I know, girl.” Steve said mistaking Dora’s look for one of pleading for the horse. For God’s sake stop looking at me like that, girl, he thought to himself. “We’d better get this old boy home to Follyfoot.” Steve took off his belt and looping it around the pony’s halter lead it along the path towards the waiting Copper and Alex. Dora hesitantly put her arm through his as she walked beside him.

----

Back at the farm; the evening sun was dipping down behind the hills leaving a soft orange glow in the sky. Dora was still in the stable with the stray pony, where she had been since their return to Follyfoot several hours before. Only briefly leaving for supper, and only then when Slugger had marched over from the house and had virtually dragged her back to the kitchen table. She had once again used her charm and gentleness to gain the pony’s confidence and to encourage it to eat the bran mash mixture she had carefully made for it. The vet had visited earlier that evening and had confirmed Steve’s diagnosis of a sprained fetlock, and had declared that although the pony was thin and dirty, he was in reasonable health.

She looked out at the beautiful sunset while leaning on the pony, gently removing the tangles from its mane. She allowed her mind to wander, back to that afternoon, that glorious afternoon and Steve. She relived that moment, she was sure he wanted to kiss her, the way his eyes had looked into hers, penetrating deep in side her soul, she knew she had wanted him to. She had said a silent pray and willed it to happen but…

“It’s all your fault; you know that, don’t you?” She half-heartedly scolded the pony that pricked up his ears at her voice and gave her a mournful ‘don’t tell me off’ look. “That was going to be…our first kiss.” She continued sighing softly. “Until you turned up. What is wrong with us? We always seemed to let horses get between us.”

The pony let out a lowly neigh. “I know.” Dora said stroking its ears. “I let horses get between us! Poor Steve! I can only hope that we’ll have that moment again.”

“Oh, Steve.” She said in loud whisper. “Please don’t give up on us. Please don’t.” She sniffed wiping the inevitable tear from her eye.

“Hi.” Steve’s head popped over the stable door. “You okay?”

“Oh, Hi!” Dora said, aware of the colour rising in her cheeks for the second time that day. Had he overheard? He gave no inclination that he had but you could never tell with Steve, he could on occasions be good at hiding his feelings and thoughts, even from her. And she prided herself on knowing him well, better than she knew herself.

“How’s he doing?” Steve asked leaning on top of the door and propping his chin on his forearms.

“He’s doing all right. I’ve managed to get him to eat a little more. Now I’m working on his mane. You’ve been a good boy, haven’t you?”

“So you haven’t been tempted to name him then!” Steve’s eyes challenge her to answer in the affirmative.

“Well…” Dora eyed him coyly.

“Dora!” He had that exasperated look on his face. “You promised not to get attached and giving him a name means attachment.”

“But Steve…”

“No buts, Dora. When the police find its owner you’ll to have to give it back?”

“Don’t you mean if, Steve. They’re not going to find the owners, are they? Because they not bothered, they’re just not bothered about a mangy old pony!”

Steve nodded, reluctantly agreeing.

Steve had insisted, on their return to Follyfoot, that they contacted the police. After informing the two friends that they had no record of any missing pony fitting that description, the police seemed rather disinterested in finding the owners. They couldn’t afford the resources Dora and Steve were told. The area had just had its second Post Office robbery in as many weeks, and they didn’t have the manpower or the budget to spend on tracking down absentee horse owners. Gone were the days when the main concerns of the local country bobby were stray animals and petty schoolboy misdemeanours. Major crime had moved from the cities and now encroached on the once peaceful rural idyll.

Steve sighed. “Okay then, humour me, what have you called it?”

“Cocoa.” Dora smiled.

Steve frowned. “After the clown?”

“No silly, Cocoa…with an ‘a’…because he’s a dark chocolate colour.” Dora chuckled.

“Oh, okay. Suppose it’s better than…I don’t know…Bournville!” Steve shook his head and smiled. “Or Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut.”

“Now that’s just being stupid.” She giggled and inwardly sighed with relief. At least Steve wasn’t angry with her anymore.

Steve straightened up and stretched his back. “I’m going to make some coffee. Want some?”

“Oh, thank you, yes.”

“Are you coming in or do you want me to bring it out here?”

“Would you bring it out here please? I want to settle him for the night.”

“Sure.” Steve shrugged his shoulders and turned to walk back across the yard to the farmhouse, stopping abruptly as Dora called out to him.

“And Steve.”

He swivelled on his heels to look back at her. “Yeah.”

“Why don’t you bring yours out as well?” She said an inviting tone to her voice.

“Okay.” He resumed his short walk across the yard, a wide grin on his face.

-----

Friday duly arrived, with the previous few days passing by uneventfully. For Dora it had been a mixed week. As predicted the pony, now officially named Cocoa, was still with them. They were no further on as to finding out where the chocolate coloured pony came from. He had apparently appeared from nowhere, as many of the horses now living out their lives at Follyfoot had mysteriously done in the past.

As for her and Steve, nothing remotely romantic had manifested itself between them, much to Dora’s disappointment. They were ‘just friends’ again.

It was the happenings of the last week that Dora contemplated when she found herself sitting alone by the lake that Friday morning. Steve was in the stables helping the farrier, who was re-shoeing a couple of the horses, Slugger was in the kitchen preparing lunch which Dora hoped would be a nice cold salad on this warm summer’s day but was resigned to the fact that it would be something hot and blackened. Ron, she suspected was hiding out somewhere in the sun!

She hardly noticed the dampness left by the morning dew on the grass as it seeped through the seat of her jeans. She gazed out over the lake, her eyes following a neon blue dragonfly as it went about its short life, skimming the water, its wings a blur as it flitted for reed to reed.

Picking at the daisies that grew at her feet she thought about the new arrival. Had travellers or gypsies callously abandoned it when they had moved on to another place? Or was it as Steve had suggested, that it belonged to elderly or ill person who could no longer look after it and they had released it to fend for itself, believing that it might at least have a chance of surviving in the wild, added to that she was worried about the pony health. She had initially been pleased with its progress, its appetite had increased and it had appeared quite contented just to stay in the stable or mooch about the yard with Ladybird. But today she felt something wasn’t quite as it should be, the pony appeared rather under the weather and lethargic, almost as if it was pining for something or someone. She just hoped that it wasn’t becoming ill; the vet’s bills were already becoming a nightmare. She hated to lose any horse though, and Steve was right she had become attached to the latest addition to the farm. She’d talk it over with Steve to see what he thought. Steve…no matter what concerns occupied her mind, he had a habit of creeping into her thoughts and staying there, taking over. She wished she could have said yes to Steve’s offer of a date, she had seen the hurt look in his eyes. She also sensed that he wasn’t too happy about her going to the charity dinner in the company of the young, wealthy, if arrogant and egotistic Lord Beck, that night. Was he jealous? It had seemed so, which…meant he care for her. Did he want more from their friendship, as she definitely did?

She toyed with daisy in her hand and unconsciously began to remove each of its petals in turn, as she did so she recited the childhood rhyme softly. “He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me.” She whispered as the white petals fell, like flakes of snow, silently to the ground. She continued without looking up, until there were only two left. “He loves me not.” She said as she tugged at the penultimate petal, leaving only one. “Do you, Steve? I wish I knew, for sure.” She sat staring at the now sad-looking daisy. Steve was her best friend and she his. Over the last months she had become to know only too well his ways and moods, could tell more often than not what he was thinking and feeling. Both the look on his face and in his eyes gave him away. But there were times, when he could become withdrawn and guarded, bringing down a barrier between them, not allowing her in. And that both hurt and frustrated her.

“Well, well, skiving again, girl. You never catch me doing that when there’s work to do?”

She turned her head, to see Ron standing behind her, a wicked grin on his slightly reddened face. He had, after all, been lying around outside and his pale and sensitive skin had caught the sun.

“Oh it’s you, Ron!” She said quietly, the disappointment in her voice hadn’t gone un-noticed by Ron.

He bit his tongue to stop himself making a sarcastic remark. “May I?” he sat down beside her. Dora shrugged in reply.

“So what’s up now? Come on tell your ol’ Uncle Ron.”

“Nothing.” She returned her gaze to the dragonfly which had been joined by a second, dancing together like fairy ballerinas.

“Nowt, me foot?” Ron picked a long blade of grass and stuck it in his mouth.

“Let me guess? It’s about tonight.” He screwed up his eyes in thought. “And a certain dark haired jealous guy.” He whispered, under his breath.

Dora hadn’t heard the last part of his sentence. “Oh, Ron, I wish I didn’t have to go. It’s not really my scene is it? Not any more. I can’t remember the last time I had to wear a long formal dress or mixed with well to do do-gooders and local dignitaries, a forced smile constantly on my face listening to their boring speeches and stories.”

“Don’t go, then?”

“But I have to, I promised. I have to go, don’t I? I can’t pull out now. I’d be letting Uncle down.” Dora sighed and returned her attention back to the daisy still held in her hand.

Ron shrugged. He threw down the piece of grass, picked a fresh blade and resumed his chewing. For a few moments he sat watching her twisting the daisy between her fingers.

“He does, yer know?” He said eventually.

“What?” Dora turned to him with a puzzled look. Ron had a habit of talking in riddles.

Ron nodded at the flower with its single petal. “Steve!”

“Oh.” Dora smiled meekly. “Really. And how do you know, Ron?”

“Just take a look.” Ron looked over at the farm and Dora followed his gaze. There leaning on the stonewall that surrounded the yard, was Steve. Dora smiled coyly and turned to Ron as he continued.

“Been there, moping in this direction for the last ten minutes or so, hasn’t taken his eyes off you. For god’s sake Dora, why don’t yer two sort yerselves out, yer both doin’ me head in. Tell ‘im how yer feel, before I lose me patience and do it for you!”

“No!” She exclaimed “No, don’t you dare do that. Promise me Ron, you won’t? I’ll tell him when the time right. Please Ron.” A pleading look in her warm hazel eyes.

“Okay… I promise.” Ron fell for those pleading eyes as readily as Steve did. “Come on.” He stood up and held out his hand to help her to her feet. “Let’s go and see what burnt offering Slugger has cooked up for us today.”

As Dora walked beside him, she tucked the remains of the flower in her blouse pocket and looked over to where Steve had stood… but he was no longer there.

-----

Dora glanced at the clock on her bedside table; it was gone half past six. Lady Beck was sending a car for her at seven and she still hadn’t decided what clothes to wear, let alone sorted out any appropriate shoes. It was to be a formal dinner, so a long dress was the order of the evening. In the family house in London stood a wardrobe full of expensive evening dresses that Dora’s mother insisted she had for the posh functions she occasionally attended with her parents. But here at Follyfoot she had no need for posh frocks or fancy footwear and had ended up digging out a couple of fairly decent dresses that were hiding in a long forgotten trunk in the spare room. Finally she chose a cream dress with a ruched bodice and long puffed sleeves and pulled it over her head with a sigh.

Twenty minutes later she stepped gingerly into the kitchen. She had coupled the dress with brown and gold sandals and a brown clutch bag. Around her shoulder’s she wore a shawl that her parents had sent her several years ago from one of their many travels abroad. And added a squirt of the brand new perfume, ‘Charlie’ that Steve had given her for her last birthday.

Slugger looked up from stirring his cup of coffee and smiled. “There you are, girl. Gosh, don’t yer look smashing!” He hit Steve on the arm, making him look up from his newspaper. “She looks lovely, don’t she Steve. Be the bell of the ball, yer will.”

“Yeah.” Steve replied, trying to sound disinterested. “You look…nice.”

She actually looked beautiful, Steve thought, as she always did whether wearing a posh frock or dirty jeans and jumpers. But the extra effort she gone to tonight, hadn’t been for his benefit, had it? It was for Lord Beck, and that thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Nice. Nice. Dora fumed inwardly. Although she had purposely not gone overboard with her make-up and dress, otherwise it might have looked that she was trying to impress Lady or more importantly Lord Beck, she had hoped Steve would have been a little more forthcoming with the admiration, she had made an effort of some sort, for his benefit more than anything, to prove that she didn’t just own jeans and jumpers, that she could wear pretty clothes and look fairly attractive. But all he could managed was ruddy ‘nice’.

Dora gave a long hard stare that was lost on Steve as he returned to his paper. Or so she thought, the written words merged into each other as Steve stared unfocussed on the pages, his mind and own thoughts were elsewhere. She turned away and tutted out loud, just as the large black car pulled up in front of the house.

With a heavy heart she walked up the path to the car, calling out a half-hearted ‘Goodbye,’ and a ‘Don’t wait up,’ as she went.

At the four star hotel in the local town, the grandest hotel for miles around, Dora had been seated between Lord Beck and large middle aged woman with diamante rimmed glasses that matched her ostentatious jewellery and a overly tight purple dress. Lord Beck had been charm itself and the evening had started off quite pleasantly. He had been extremely attentive and friendly towards her, asking after Follyfoot and Copper, but he had become more boring and tiresome as the evening wore on, mainly due to the copious amount of wine and whisky he had consumed. Dora had been thankful for the four course meal, at least while he was eating; he wasn’t whispering uncouth jokes and suggestions in her ear.

Just as Dora finished off her dessert, a strawberry pavlova and was waiting on the coffee, the woman with the diamantes next to her leaned over to her.

“I hear that the Colonel has offered riding lessons.”

“Sorry.” Dora said puzzled.

“You are the Colonel’s niece aren’t you?” She asked peering closely at Dora.

Dora nodded.

“Oh, didn’t you know? Everybody here gives goods or offers services to be auctioned to raise money for the charity. The darling Colonel offer riding lessons at that place of his…Follyfoot is it?”

“Yes.” Dora replied.

“I’m going to bid for them. Does that dark-haired young man still work there?” Dora nodded then wished she hadn’t. “Oh good, I’d offer well over the odds for him to teach me.” She sighed and patted Dora knowingly on the arm. The poor horses having to bear her weight and…poor Steve!

Not for the first time that night Dora’s thoughts turned to Steve. She stood up from the table and excused herself; she needed to ‘powder her nose.’ Lord Beck reached out to grab her but she managed to avoid his groping hands.

Steve folded up the paper and plonked it on the table; he’d had several attempts at reading it that evening but just couldn’t concentrate on it. He got up out of his seat; collected the coffee mugs and took them to the sink to be washed up. After washing, drying and putting the mugs and other crockery away, that took all of five minutes, he returned to his seat in the kitchen where Slugger was darning the elbow of an old, well worn and well loved cardigan that had been with Slugger for donkey’s years. Steve picked up the paper again, and with much rustling flicked through several pages without reading a single word. He even tried the crossword without much luck. He folded the newspaper in half again and dropped it back on the table. Getting up he ventured to the window, where as he stared out at the night, he took the Land Rover keys out of his jeans pocket and absentmindedly began to fiddle with them, tossing them from hand to hand.

“For gawd sake, son, will you find something to do or sit down. Yer making me dizzy, yer are”

Steve turned to look at the older man, then without uttering a word he snatched his leather jacket from the back of the chair and walked out of the kitchen door.

“Oi, where are you going?” Slugger dropped his mending and stood up abruptly.

“Out!” came the curt reply.

“Out where?”

“Just out…there’s no need to wait up for me… either.”

Slugger tutted loudly and shook his head as the back door slammed and the gate banged violently against the post. Within a minute the Land Rover’s engine roared into life and wheels tore noisily at the gravel as Steve sped off down the driveway.

Standing front of the mirror in the ladies restroom of the hotel, Dora opened her bag and reach in, unzipping the little pocket in the lining, she peered inside, it was still there, right where she had put it, to keep it safe, to keep it with her, was the remains of the daisy. Refastening the little zip and her bag, she shrugged her shawl around her shoulder and walked out into the foyer.

“Evening, Miss.” The night porter had recently arrived on duty and was taking his place behind the reception desk.

“Good evening.” Dora smiled at him shyly.

“Can I help you? Do you need a taxi or anything?” He smiled back. He was a portly man with grey thinning hair and a kindly, honest looking face; that had a slightly ruddy complexion. He look liked your archetypal grandfather.

“Er…No, I don’t think so, thank you.”

The porter watched as Dora made her way through the swing doors to the street outside. What a pretty young woman, he thought. How he would have loved to have a daughter or granddaughter, come to think it, like that. He and his wife were never blessed with children, if they had been perhaps he wouldn’t have to be coping with his wife’s chronic illness on his own now, as well as looking after the menagerie of assorted animals his wife had collect when she had been well. At least he had dealt with one of them, one less mouth to feed. He was only thankful his wife was unaware of what he had done. He could only hope that Chocolate Drop had been found by a caring person and given a good home.

Outside in the street, Dora pulled her shawl tight around her, for despite the warmth of the day, the night air was decidedly chilly. She looked up the street towards the bus station and glanced down at her watch. The buses from the town to the Follyfoot area of the country were somewhat irregular and by this time of night they were nonexistent, the last bus had left over an hour ago. How on earth was she going to get home? The sensible thing to do was to go back into the hotel and take the porter up on his offer to phone for a taxi but then she risked bumping into Lord Beck or his mother. She began to walk up the street with the hope of finding a taxi office or telephone box.

“There you are. Not walking out on me, are you?” She turned to find Lord Beck striding menacing towards her. Her stomach lurched; she didn’t like the look on his face.

“Erm…I’m not feeling too well…I need to go home.” Dora stuttered.

“Well, why didn’t you say so? I can take you home. A nice quiet run in the countryside…alone, just the two of us.” He leered at her, swaying slightly.

“No, it’s all right. I’ve already called a taxi.” She lied, becoming frightened now.

“At least I deserve a goodnight kiss…or something else. I’m sure we could get a room here. Or do you like it rough, down dark back alleys.” He grabbed her arm with a vice like grip and pulled her violently towards him. “I’m sure a can give you a better time than poor, working class ex-cons of stable lads.”

“No!” Dora tried to pull away but he only tightened his grip. Bring up his free hand, he placed it on her breast and squeezed hard before grabbing her head and forcing it towards his own. Dora moved her head violently from side to side to avoid his mouth as he attempted to kiss her. His breath smelt of drink and the awful cigars he had been smoking. She pleaded with him to stop as he pushed his groin against her body.

Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a hand grabbed the collar of Lord Beck’s dinner jacket, causing him to let go of Dora, and swung him around, slamming him hard against the hotel wall, knocking the breath out of him and leaving him briefly stunned.

“You heard her. Leave her alone!” Dora’s rescuer shouted, one hand pressed on Lord Beck’s chest pinning him against the wall, as the other was held hard against the drunken lord’s throat.

“Steve!” Dora exclaimed.

Still keeping hold of Lord Beck, whose feet were kicking out haphazardly at Steve, the drink hindering his coordination, Steve twisted his body to look at Dora.

“Are you alright, girl?”

Dora nodded, slightly dazed as relief swept through her.

Turning back to a now scared and bewildered lord, Steve increased the pressure on his neck. Lord Beck gasped and spluttered. His hands came up and grabbed Steve’s wrists, pulling at them to release their grip, but despite being shorter, Steve was stronger of the two from all the hard physical work he’d done over the years, and held on even tighter.

“What the hell are you playing at, you creep?” Steve eyes burned with hatred, shrugging off the lord’s feeble attempt to push him away. “If you’ve hurt her, I’ll thump the living daylights out of you… so hard…. In fact, why am waiting, I’ll do it anyway.” Steve made a fist and drew back his arm, taking aim at the cowering Lord Beck. Panic began to show in Lord Beck’s eyes and beads of perspiration formed on his moustache.

Dora caught his arm. “No, Steve, don’t”

“What!” Steve said puzzled at her inference.

“He’s not worth it, Steve. He’s just a drunken, horrid, lecherous man. He didn’t hurt me, really. Please, Steve.” Her eyes caught his pleading with him.

Steve relaxed his hand and let his arm fall to his side but still kept up the pressure on the other man’s throat.

“You’re lucky mate. But if you come with in a mile of Dora…” he jabbed a finger into Lord Beck’s chest. “So help me god, I’ll spoil that pretty face with my bare hands.” Steve made a fist at him again. Letting go of his neck, Steve grabbed the lord’s jacket again and thrust him towards the hotel doors, where the porter, hearing the commotion had been standing watching.

“Now get back in there before I tell her ladyship, not to mention the police about your despicable behaviour. I’m sure your mother would like to know what a low life of a son she has.”

The disgraced lord hadn’t said a word. Not that Steve had given him the chance to. And now as he rubbed his neck, Lord Beck found his throat too sore to even attempt to speak. Although he did look back at the couple, sneered and mouth a few choice words, at which Steve could only guess. The night porter stepped aside to allow him to enter the building.

Steve’s attention then concentrated on Dora. He took hold of her gently by the shoulders and squeezed them affectionately. “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?” He said calmly, his anger had subsided and his mood one of concern. Dora nodded. Steve let out a deep breath. “Come on, let’s get back to Follyfoot.” He slipped his arm around Dora shoulders, and holding her tight he could feel her trembling as he guided her across the road to the corner of the street where the Land Rover was parked waiting.

The porter watched as the young couple walked away. He had seen some of the incident between Steve and Lord Beck, although not all but enough to know that the arrogant lord had got what he rightly deserved. He had noticed the young man in the Land Rover as he arrived for work earlier that evening. They had even passed the time of day when the porter walked past the vehicle as Steve got out to placed some rubbish in a nearby bin. He had wondered why he had been there and now he knew. The young lass had been lucky to have her knight in shining armour so close at hand that night. The young man was obviously smitten with the pretty girl, and judging by the way she looked at him, she felt the same. With a smile and a shake of his head, the porter ambled back into the hotel.

Dora placed a hand on the bonnet of the vehicle to steady herself as she waited for Steve to open the door and help her inside, she hadn’t realised how shaken up she had been.

By the time Steve had made his way to the other side and in to the driver seat, Dora’s face was wet with tears of relief, she was unable to stop the flow.

“Dora!” Steve leaned over to her. “Dora. Are you sure you’re okay? He didn’t …didn’t try...do anything, you know…before I mean.” His eyes search hers as his anger began to rise again at the thought that the bastard may have ‘touched’ Dora in any way.

“He didn’t… I’m fine. Really. You’re here now.” She sniffed, and rubbed her face with her fingers. “Take me home, Steve.” Steve nodded and smiled shyly at her before turning to the steering wheel and starting up the Land Rover. Steve breathed a sigh of relief; he would have killed him if the bastard had….

As Steve drove through the narrow streets of the old town, Dora puzzled over how it was that Steve was there, right outside the hotel at that moment, the moment she had desperately needed him. She thought about how cool the bonnet of the vehicle had felt. He had obviously been there for some time, waiting for her, watching for her. She sniffed the air, there was a faint tang of fish and chips, and he had even eaten his supper in the Land Rover too. She smiled to herself, he had been concerned and yes, jealous too, which meant he did care for, and dare she think it, love her. He had driven in to town just to be here, waiting for her. How did he know that she would leave the hotel on her own? One day, maybe, she would ask him. For now she was just thankful he was there.

After Steve had left the farm he had driven around for a while eventually ending up at the pub where the new band was playing. He’d stayed for only five minutes, successfully avoiding being spotted by Ron, who was sat drinking in the corner with his mates. Steve wasn’t in the mood for being sociable, and deciding the band was rubbish after all, left without even finishing his pint.

She let out a large yawn, suddenly she felt tired. Shuffling in her seat Dora leaned over and closing her eyes, rested her head on Steve’s shoulder, at the same time placed her hand on Steve’s thigh. His heart skipped a beat at her touch and his mouth curved into a smile.

Before long they had left the town behind and the sound of steady breathing beside him, told Steve that Dora had drifted off to sleep. Taking his eyes momentarily off the road he glanced down at her face, she looked so beautiful and relaxed. His chest swelled with pride knowing that, despite her unnerving ordeal she obviously felt safe and contented enough in his company to sleep. Releasing pressure from the accelerator, Steve slowed the vehicle down. He had no desire to rush back to Follyfoot; he wanted to savour the closeness of the sleeping Dora for as long as possible. He grinned. Every now and then she would stir and snuggled up to him, murmuring softly. His grin widened.

Steve was thankful that at this time of night the country roads were quiet, other traffic on them was virtually non-existent and that he knew the roads like the back of his hand. He could drive the route to Follyfoot blindfolded. His concentration certainly wasn’t at it should be, and how could it with Dora’s warm body so close to his and her hand sleepily caressing his leg.

The vehicles headlights caught a pair of eyes sat the side of the road. Steve slowed down to halt as a black and white face appeared through the dark. The badger ambled along the side of the road, stop briefly to look at him, then at a well -worn crossing spot, it moved across the road to the verge on the other side and disappeared through the hedge into a neighbouring field.

The movement of the vehicle no longer lulling her to sleep, Dora awoke, yawned and sat up.

“What’s up?” she asked sleepily.

“Nothing. I jus stopped to let a badger across the road.”

“What, where?” She looked out of the window, peering hard into the darkness.

“It’s gone.”

“Oh, I wanted to see the little badger.” She stuck out her bottom lip like a disgruntled five year old.

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okay.” Dora closed eyes, replaced her head on Steve’s shoulder and sighed contentedly. Her hand once more resumed the slow stroking of his thigh. Steve’s grin widened even more as he pulled away and continued their journey.

“Dora, Dora.” Steve shook Dora gently to wake her. He had seriously contemplated the idea of not waking her at all. He would have been happy to stay in the vehicle all night, with her cuddled up to him. But he surmised that Slugger, not to mention the Colonel would have something to say about that! Still he could dream.

“Umm” Slowly Dora sat up and yawned. “Are we home?”

“Yes, we’re home, sleepyhead.” Unfortunately, Steve silently added.

Opening the door, Steve held out his hand to help Dora out of the Land Rover, as she did so her shawl slipped from her shoulders and settled on the seat.

They walked slowly to the farmhouse gate, Dora small warm hand still held in Steve’s firm grip. At the gate they paused.

“Are you alright now?” Steve asked for the umpteenth time that night.

“Yes, yes, I promise I’m okay.” She nodded smiling. She bowed her head shyly. “And thanks for being there tonight, Steve.” Looking back up at his face, she reached up and planted a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek.

Pulling away, she stopped, her face only inches away from his, she caught herself gazing into those dark eyes once more. They inclined their heads slowly towards each other. Dora parted her lips in anticipation, their mouths only a fraction of inch apart now.

“There you are? Where on earth have you been?” Slugger’s voice boomed out from the farmhouse doorway. Steve and Dora jumped apart, as if something had bitten each of them.

“I’ve got Lady… what’s ‘er name…on the blower, all worried cos you suddenly disappeared, she says.”

“What?” Dora turned to face Slugger, reluctantly letting go of Steve’s hand. Steve let out an exasperated sigh.

“Sorry, Slugs…I…erm…I…er.” She glanced quickly back at Steve, who was stood in his familiar pose, hands now jammed in his pockets and a resigned look on his face.

Slugger looked from Dora to Steve and back to Dora. “Stop yer jibbing, girl, tell me later. Think you need to speak to her ladyship, or she’ll be calling the police.”

“Oh, Slugger. I’ll be there in a minute.” She said a slight frustrating tone to her voice. She turned her attention back to Steve who gave her a shy smile.

“What will you tell her?”

Dora shrugged “I don’t know. The truth? I’m not sure. I was lucky tonight, you were there, but some other girl might not be so fortunate.”

Steve nodded slowly. “Good night, Dora. See you in the morning.” He removed a hand from his pocket and fingered combed a lock of hair from his face. As he brought his hand down to his side, Dora took hold it.

“Good night, Steve and thank you again.” She squeezed his hand. Her eyes smiled warmly at his.

“That’s all right, anytime.” He replied quietly, his own eyes gazing into hers, saying a lot more than words could.

Allowing her fingers to linger in his, she turned and walked towards the door, where Slugger’s voice was now calling at her from the study. She turned and gave a small wave as the door shut behind her.

As Steve stood staring at the closed door, he let out a long, loud sigh. He willed it to burst open and Dora to come rushing back up the path, straight into his arms but the door remained firmly shut.

He made his way back to the vehicle, kicking out at a loose stone in frustration. It skidded across the ground and slammed into the wall with a clatter.

He was angry. Angry with the upper class prat for treating Dora as he did. Angry with Slugger for choosing that moment to interrupt them. More than anything, angry with himself for hesitating so long, for not making a move sooner, for holding back his thoughts and feelings when all he wanted to do was to tell Dora how he felt about her. Idiot!

Reaching into the Land Rover for his jacket, he noticed the shawl that had fallen from Dora’s shoulders. He picked it up and gazed at it. He ought to go and give it back to her, he thought as he made his way back towards the farmhouse. At the gate he stopped, bringing the shawl up to his face, he felt the softness of the material on his skin and as he breathed in deeply, Dora’s perfume hit his senses. Luxuriating in Dora’s scent, his previous anger faded, and in its place the memory of her closeness, the look of love and longing he had seen in her eyes for him that night, her anticipation of their first kiss that mirrored his own. He brought his hand up to his face and touched it; he could still feel the softness of her lips on his cheek. That alone gave him hope for the future, their time would come, and of that he was sure.

He looked down at the garment in his hands, a smile suddenly appearing on his handsome face, he could keep Dora with him, at least in spirit for one more night, the morning would be soon enough to give her back her shawl.

The End

©Sue Hirst 2007