Carl

 

“Aren’t you going to open that?” I tipped my head towards the golden envelope she’d tossed on the dashboard like junk mail.

She shrugged. “Dunno. Probably not.”

I turned out of the business park, pulling into the traffic queue. Rush hour. Gridlock. “You earned it, you should open it.”

“I don’t want anything from him. Except my Harrison Gables trip. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

“The only reason?” I shot her a smile. “You’re telling me you didn’t enjoy today just a little bit? Didn’t enjoy putting your ticks on the board?” I paused. “Don’t you enjoy our little lunchtime chats?”

She tutted at me. “Alright, yes, I enjoy some things. I still don’t want his shitty envelope, though.”

“Fine,” I said, and reached over to take it. “I’ll save it for Monday, give it to the next person to get a tick on the board.” She shot me a look and it said it all. I laughed, dropped it in her lap. “Open it,” I said.

She poked her tongue out, and then she opened it.

“Well?” I prompted.

She cast it back onto the dash. “Vouchers. Some posh clothes shop I’ll never visit in a million years.”

“Why won’t you?”

“It’s not me.”

“Why isn’t it?”

She shrugged. “It’s just not. I’m not Verity. I don’t do all polished and preened and pompous.”

“You don’t do pompous,” I agreed. “Polished and preened, however. You do those very nicely.”

“Thanks.” She smiled. “I’m still not going.”

I didn’t push it, just smiled to myself as she took the voucher from the dash and slipped it into her bag. “He’s very proud of you.” I looked over at her. “As am I.”

“My second call was lucky.”

I shook my head. “No, it wasn’t. I heard it.”

“You did?”

“I did.” I reached over and squeezed her knee. “I mean it, Katie, I’m very proud. You should be, too.”

“You helped me,” she said. “A lot. Thanks.”

“I helped everyone, but it was you who put those ticks on the board. You.”

Finally, for the first time since the awkward hug with her father, she gave me a proper smile. It started at her eyes and went all the way down to the fingers that squeezed mine. “I did it, I really did it, didn’t I?”

“You did, yes.”

“And Verity didn’t.”

The warmth in my gut turned cold. “This isn’t about Verity, this is about you.”

“I know,” she said. “But still. I did and she didn’t. I bet she’s seething. I bet she can’t believe the idiot sister nailed it and she didn’t.”

I edged the car forward as the traffic lights changed up ahead, debated how much to say. “Verity has her issues, Katie, but I don’t believe for a second she’s written you off as an idiot. Far from it.”

“Oh, she has,” she said. “It’s all she’s ever said to me. Stupid, pathetic, nobody wants you. Idiot.”

“Plenty of people have a front. It’s often the most insecure of us who lash out the hardest.”

She laughed. “Verity?! Insecure?! No way. She’s so full of herself I’m surprised she fits her pouty little head through the door.”

“She didn’t seem so full of herself this afternoon, Katie. She was quite upset.”

I watched her reactions, watched her shoulders tense up and her lips tighten. “Good. Maybe it brought her down a peg or two.”

“Stop,” I said. “You aren’t a bitter person. Don’t let success make you someone you’re not. You’re so much better than that.”

She looked like I’d struck her. “I didn’t… I’m not… that’s not what I meant…” She turned her shoulders towards me. “It’s just her, Carl, she makes me like this. I’m not gloating. I’d never gloat.”

I didn’t say a word, just waited, watching the cogs turning behind her pretty eyes.

“She was upset?”

“She’s taken it hard, not getting a lead this week. She worked for it, just the same as everyone else did. Just the same as you did.”

“That’s what she said? That she’s upset about not getting a lead in?”

“Amongst other things.”

She turned her attention back to the road in front. “She’s manipulative, game playing, spoiled. She’s never sincere. She’ll say whatever she wants you to hear.”

“I’m a bit long in the tooth to be taken in by all that, Katie. Give me some credit.”

“I know,” she said. “It’s just her. I know her.”

“As do I.”

She sighed. “I know. Sorry.”

I’d ruined her mood. I could see it in her posture, in her eyes. It was the last thing I’d wanted. I reached out, smoothed a stray tuft of hair behind her ear. “Enough of all that,” I said. “It’s your special day. What do you want to do to celebrate? I’ll take you anywhere, do anything you want. My treat.”

Her smile came back. “You will?”

“It will be my pleasure.”

I should have guessed her response a clear mile away.

“Samson,” she said. “I’d like to see my furry boy. I’ve missed him so much.” My stomach panged to see the emotion in her eyes. “I could get some riding in, if we’re quick.”

“As the lady wishes,” I said.

 

We called Rick to see if he could join us, but he was still on his way back from a client sign-off in Weston.

Fuck, he groaned. One day out and it’s the day I have to miss the big celebration.

“We’ll celebrate later,” Katie said. “No biggie.”

It will be a biggie, he said, and his voice was dripping dirty. I watched her shift in her seat, and it made my dick hard.

I smiled as the call wrapped up.

“Just us, then.”

“Just us.” She smiled back. “Hope you won’t be too bored.”

“I’ll be far from bored,” I said. I indicated to change lanes, aiming to cut out the Cheltenham traffic seeing as we didn’t have to swing by the house for Rick. “Do you have some clothes, at the stable? It’ll save time.”

She grinned as the traffic eased off, our route clearing. “We can stop at mine, it won’t take a minute. I can grab some jodhpurs. I have another pair of boots there.” She paused, stared out of the window. “Mum will be home.”

“Is that a problem? I can wait in the car.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to. Unless you want to.”

The idea of meeting her mother gave me a strange thrill. I shot her a smirk. “Will I do? Am I dressed well enough to impress?”

She smirked back, reached over to smooth my tie. “Always.”

Katie lived on a regular little street in Much Arlock. A row of terraced houses with matching front doors and little front gardens. Hers was on the end. Another old Ford was parked outside, but this one was smaller. Her mother’s I guessed.

My hands were surprisingly clammy as I parked up behind it.

Katie unclipped her seatbelt and jumped out. “I’ll be a minute,” she said, grinning at me through the open door. “Are you coming?”

Yes, I was coming.

I followed her to the front door, looking all around me as she fumbled with a jangle of keys. She pushed the door open with a creak.

“Mum, it’s me, just grabbing some clothes!” she called. She kicked off her heels and dumped the keys on the side.

It was a nice enough place. A worn green carpet along the hallway. A couple of kid’s paintings in frames on the wall. Katie Smith, age 7. Katie Smith, age 9. One that was just a tiny handprint. Katie Smith, age 3. There was also a framed photograph, Mum and Me, the frame said. Katie, smiling in a crocheted cardigan, one of those colourful threaded braids in her hair. Her arm around a woman who looked just like her. I knew the place. I’d been there myself, my only holiday. I recognised the waterslide in the background.

Katie climbed a couple of stairs, shouted up. “Mum, are you there?”

I had the strangest urge to snoop around, track my way upstairs and look at her bedroom. I had another urge, too. The urge to bury my cock in her on her own turf. Make her mine in her own bed. Sleep in her bed, amongst her things, amidst her regular life.

I heard footsteps on the landing. “I was in the shower, won’t be a minute.”

“I’ve got a visitor,” Katie called, and she was smiling.

“A visitor?” the voice called. “Holly? Is that you?”

A little blush on Katie’s cheeks. “No, Mum, it’s not Holly.” She turned to me. “Friend from school,” she whispered.

We waited what felt like an age until the footsteps started up again. I took a breath, prepared the smile.

The woman who came down the stairs was a real stunner, just like her daughter. Her blonde curls were still wet, and she was wearing nothing but a simple t-shirt over jeans. No makeup, but she didn’t need any. Her eyes were blue and her smile was broad. Same freckles.

She held out a hand. “Debbie,” she said. “Katie’s mum.”

“Carl,” I said, and left it at that. I shook her hand firmly.

Katie looked at me, eyes wide and a little unsure. “Carl’s my boss,” she said, and my heart dropped a little. “And a friend.”

Her mum raised an eyebrow at her. “Friend?”

“Friend. Close friend.”

“Your daughter’s doing very well,” I said. “Two leads today, topped the leaderboard.”

That made Debbie Smith smile with her eyes. “Well done, Kate,” she said, and squeezed her tight. “I’m so proud.” She turned her attention back to me. “So, friend-boss Carl. Has Katie offered you a drink?”

“No need,” I said. “I think we’ll be off soon. Quick change of clothes.”

“Samson,” Katie explained.

“How awfully nice of your boss to take time out to go and see your horse on a Friday evening.” Her eyes were suspicious, and there was an edge to her gaze.

“Friend,” Katie said again. “Good friend.”

“I’m glad Katie is doing well at the office,” she said. “I’m glad she has the opportunity.”

“She’s excelling,” I told her. “Working very hard, and it’s paying off.”

“And you’re Katie’s direct boss are you?”

“For the duration of the training programme.”

She was weighing me up, I could feel it. I ignored the niggle in my gut.

“I’ll get changed,” Katie said, and my urge to follow her up came to nothing. I felt rooted to the spot.

Both her mother and I watched her climb the stairs, I heard a door open and then close at the top. And then her mother cast her verdict.

“You’re the special someone,” she said, and it wasn’t a question. “The special someone and her boss. In my experience the two don’t mix, and Katie needs this opportunity. She deserves the opportunity to do well for herself.”

“Katie is doing very well for herself, I have no intention of that changing.”

“All good intentions,” she said, and it was barbed. “Do you have kids? Married? Divorced?”

“No,” I said, and my throat was dry. “And neither.”

She gave me a little nod. “Ok, Carl. That’s good to hear.” Her eyes seared mine. “You know Katie’s Dad?”

“I know David very well.”

“Then I trust you’ll help Katie make the best of the situation. For her sake, not his.”

“I’ll help Katie make the best of whatever situation she finds herself in. In this instance, for David’s sake as well as hers. He cares very much for her.”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m sure he does.” Her smile was back at full radiance by the time Katie made her reappearance, and I made sure to smile, too. I held out a hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, Debbie.”

She shook my hand and it was firmer this time, pointed. “Same to you, Carl.”

But I wasn’t so sure.

“Let’s go,” Katie said, and she seemed oblivious. “I want to hit some jumps, it’s been a while.”

She led the way, and I followed without a backward look. It felt so much more airy outside. I breathed it in, bleeped the Range, feeling Debbie’s gaze burning into my back.

Katie jumped in and waved her mother goodbye as we pulled away. I held up a hand, gave a smile, nothing too bright.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know what to say. Boss came in my head first, then friend.”

“Is that the order you think of them?”

She laughed. “No, definitely not.”

My stomach was niggling again. “And that’s what we are? Close friends?”

“Aren’t we?”

“I’m asking you.”

“I don’t know what we are,” she admitted, and there was an awkwardness to it. “I mean, we’re friends, I know that. You’re my boss. You’re Rick’s boyfriend. And you and Rick have a thing, a proper thing. I’m not sure what that makes us.”

“What do you want it to make us?” I pulled away from Katie’s street and felt so much better.

She shrugged. “That’s a question and a half, Carl. I don’t know how you want me to answer that off the cuff.”

“With honesty,” I said. “It’s not a hard question, you must know how you feel.”

“I like you, if that’s what you mean. I like you both, a lot.”

“You like us?”

“Like you, enjoy your company, enjoy your dicks,” she laughed but I didn’t. She stopped. “I really like you guys. You’re funny and you’re smart, and kind, and different, and great in bed.”

“But you’re in it for the cash,” I said. “It’s alright, I get it.”

Her eyes burned me. “No,” she said, and there was fire in it. “I’m not just in it for the cash. I hardly think about the cash.” She sighed. “If I didn’t have a dream and no way to pay for it, I wouldn’t even want the cash.”

“So, what do you want?”

She pointed out the sign for Woolhope. “I want to see my baby boy,” she said. “That’s what I want.”

“Fine,” I said. “I can take a hint.” I reached for her knee and her hand was waiting. “Onwards, to the furry beast. We’ll pick this conversation up another time.”

 

The furry beast seemed bigger without Rick there too. Bigger and clumsier. He threw his head up, ears pricked as he followed Katie along to the stable block. I nipped ahead of him, avoiding his clomping feet, playing it cool even though the brute made me uneasy.

Katie could tell my unease regardless. “Relax,” she said. “He’s totally fine.” She offered me the lead rope. “Take it if you want, you’ll see.”

“I’m ok as I am for now,” I said.

“So am I,” she said, and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “That’s what I should have said in the car. I’m happy, Carl, with everything. For now.”

“For now?”

She nodded. “For now, yeah. We’re good. All of us. I like it.”

I wanted to say so much. Spill my load in more ways than one. The need to lay it all out slept uneasily in the pit of me. I could wake it with just a touch, and it would spring into life and come rolling out. And it would plough into her, and maybe she’d run. Just like the others.

“I like it, too. Very much.”

“Good,” she said. “Then we’re good, right?”

I wrapped my arm around her waist. “We’re good.”

She tethered Samson to a loop of twine outside his stable door. “Surely he could break that?” I asked.

“That’s the point,” she said. “If he got freaked, or spooked or whatever, he could break the twine. He wouldn’t hurt himself.”

“Nice to know,” I said, imagining that flimsy bit of nothing doing sweet fuck all if the brute decided to go for me.

He was still eyeballing me, still hostile. Even chomping on hay he was eyeballing me. She picked up his feet one by one, held them between her thighs as she scraped the mud out of them. Rather her than me.

I wished Rick was with us, making her laugh with his easy conversation. He’d know what to say, what to do. He’d do this what’s going on conversation so much more casually than I could. Probably because he wouldn’t do it at all.

Katie saddled up, fastened up her helmet. She was all smiles.

“Do you need a leg up or something?” I asked, but she shook her head.

She hoisted herself up easily, swinging a leg across his back and mounting up without a second’s hesitation. She shortened her stirrups, and took up the reins, and they were off, pacing back the way we’d come.

“Could you get the gate?” She pointed to the side of the wood-chipped arena. “That one.”

I dashed in front of them and did what she asked. She trotted on through, rising and falling in the saddle, her thighs so toned I could see the definition of her through her jodhpurs.

She pointed at the jumps laid out around the field. Poles of red and white, yellow and white. Some high, some doubles, some just poles on the floor. One of the arrangements had toppled.

I ran to it before she asked, propped it back up to height.

She thanked me. My suit definitely didn’t.

I leaned against the fence at a safe distance and watched. I watched everything, soaking her in. Samson’s easy gait as she warmed him up, long loops around the outside, figures of eight through the jumps. I watched the way she moved, the sophisticated freedom in her posture. The smile on her face, the concentration as she turned him, guided him.

She was a picture.

A swan on water, in her element, bursting with joy.

I could watch her forever.

My heart thumped as she took the first jump, but the horse leapt it easily. She rose and fell, freeing up the reins as he needed them, then patted his neck, squeezed her legs to his sides to encourage him onwards. They took another jump and it was magical. A third and I was addicted. Feeling the rhythm in his hooves, the duh-duh-duh, duh-duh-duh, duh-duh-duh, and then the silence as he leapt, the thump of his landing, and back to the duh-duh-duh.

I was smiling as they jumped a double, two in quick succession. Willing her forwards, loving the way they moved as one.

I could love this, watching her.

I could fall in love with this.

 

She gave Samson a big pat when they’d done enough, and her cheeks were rosy as she walked him around the field, his head hanging low, reins long and loose in her hands. He was sweaty at the neck, and smelled of leather and beast as she walked him close by. I opened the gate for them, and they passed me close enough that I could feel the heat of him, heading back up to the stable block.

I followed, and she stared over her shoulder, leaning back on his rump.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Were we good?”

“Amazing,” I said. “Seriously. It was amazing.”

“It’s taken a long time.” She smiled. “He was green when he arrived, jumped too big. Nervous.”

“He didn’t look nervous today.”

“He’s not anymore,” she said. “He trusts me. He knows me.”

“The beauty of experience,” I said. “In becoming comfortable with each other.”

She dismounted and tethered him, taking off his saddle as he rummaged in the hay net. “We’re competing in the Cheltenham Chase in August,” she said. “The only course this summer.”

“I’m sure you’ll do very well,” I said, and I meant it.

“I hope so.” Her eyes met mine. “Verity is doing it, too, on some posh fancy horse her daddy paid a fortune for.”

“And that’s why you’re doing it?”

She shrugged. “Maybe a little. I want to win.”

“It’s a slippery slope,” I said. “Competing with just one person. It never ends up pleasantly, even if you win.”

“Still,” she said. “I want to win.” A rumble of a truck sounded in the distance and she dashed along the path. “It’s Jack,” she said. “Finally! I haven’t seen him in aaages!” She picked up Samson’s saddle, handed it to me with his bridle. Sweaty leather slammed into my suit jacket, but she didn’t notice, she was too keen to go. “Can you put this in the tack room, please? And keep an eye on Samson? I won’t be long.”

I nodded, but I doubt she even saw me. She was already rushing away.

She was gone a while. Long enough that the furry brute finished up his hay, even the scraggly bits that had dropped to the floor. He blew out a sigh and looked around the place, straining on his rope as he looked towards the farmhouse.

“Steady,” I said. “Don’t go breaking that twine.” As though the beast would understand me.

His eyes met mine and they were dark and curious, and hostile. Still hostile.

His ears flicked about, this way and that, his tail swishing idly at the flies.

I dared to take a step forward. “Hey, boy. Good boy.”

I reached out a hand, but he tossed his head away. It freaked me out enough to step back again, but the action pained me, frustrated me.

And then it hit me.

I wanted the animal to like me.

Ridiculous, but true.

I wanted him to like me, so that she’d like me. Because he was important.

“Hey,” I said again. “Who’s a good boy?”

His eyes bored into me. I took a breath and a step forward, and this time I kept my hand out, even when he moved his head away. “Who’s a good boy? A friendly boy?” I kept my tone light. “Hey, boy, please don’t savage me, hey? Don’t trample me.”

I placed a hand on his neck and he was hot and sweaty, but soft. My heart thumped.

“Good boy.”

I patted him, as though I knew what I was doing. He didn’t move, just stared.

Please, I willed. Please, just like me. Please.

I took deep breaths, gentle steps, until I was close to his side. His ears kept flicking, his weight shifting on his feet.

“Good boy, Samson, that’s a good boy.”

He tossed his head again as I placed a hand on his face, and I pulled away but only a fraction.

“Please,” I whispered. “Please just give me a chance, boy.”

When I put my hand out again he stayed still, and my heart leapt in my chest. I placed my hand on his nose, and he snorted, snuffled. He snuffled me, his nose in my pockets. And then he butted me, like he’d butted Katie.

And I wasn’t scared.

“Good boy!” I said, and wished I had fucking mints. I wished I had a whole truckload of fucking mints.

He butted me again, and I rubbed his ears, and he didn’t mind.

I felt the connection, beast to man, man to beast. He’d taken my measure and I’d done alright. I’d passed whatever horsey paces he’d put me through.

“Good boy, Samson, that’s a good boy.”

I stroked the white stripe on his face and he didn’t flinch.

Didn’t move when I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave the beast a hug, caring fuck all for my suit.

“That’s it,” I whispered. “Friends now.”

It felt seriously fucking good.

 

I was still petting the brute when I heard Katie’s footsteps on the path. I turned to face her with a smile, patting the horse like we were best fucking buddies.

My stomach was tight and tickly, and a little bit excited, and my heart was full of life.

“He likes me,” I said. “He actually fucking likes me!”

My eyes met hers, hoping for approval and joy and excitement to match mine, but there was nothing of the sort.

Katie’s eyes were puffy and sad. Her cheeks reddened from tears.

“What?” I said, dropping the horse hugs and heading straight for her. “What the hell happened?”

She struggled to speak at first, just took my arms and gripped them with tense fingers. She shook her head and another tear fell.

“Talk to me,” I said. “What is it?”

She took a gulp of air that sounded like a sob.

“It’s Jack,” she said. “The bank… the bank are repossessing, threatening to close the business…” Another tear, and a proper sob this time. “He’s selling the land, he’s got no choice. He’s got to sell it, the stables, the yard. All of it.”

“Ok,” I said. “It’s alright.”

But she was shaking her head. “It’s not alright,” she said. “My dream is over. It’s gone. It’s all fucking gone.”

And then she cried.

She really fucking cried.