Chance of a Lifetime, Page 2

  She wished he hadn't heard the loud click the ancient door-latch had made. It was always the same when she needed to slip in and out unobtrusively. Maria smoothed back her hair as she glanced at her reflection in the mirror, wishing she didn’t look such a mess. Edging into the room, she couldn’t help but notice Phillip Carter's finely chiselled profile. Without his racing felt, he looked considerably younger than she'd first thought; barely thirty, she estimated.

  His well-shaped head was a mass of unruly curls, which he continuously tried to control by running his fingers through them. His high cheekbones glowed with the healthy touch of outdoor life, and his strong chin indicated a man of determination. But, it was his eyes that were the most striking feature. Their warm hazel colour seemed to deepen as they looked briefly into hers. She sat down next to him, immediately uncomfortable at their closeness, her nostrils filling with the perfume of his delicate aftershave, and again keenly aware of an annoying increase in her pulse.

  ‘Allow me,’ he smiled, with a sideways smile as he handed over the cup of tea Gramps had just poured. Anna felt girlishly awkward in his presence, and being acutely aware she was not looking her best in her working clothes, she felt self-conscious as well. Why should I care what Phillip Carter thinks of how I look, she thought. But she did.

  ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, focusing on the brew in her hands. Those liquid pools did not fool her; many women must have melted under his seductive gaze. She had already alerted herself to the dangers of his charm, but, quite definitely, his were eyes a woman would remember. A slight shudder whipped through her, as though the sun had suddenly departed.

  Maria sat quietly, not wishing to be drawn into conversation. She would finish her tea, and then excuse herself to take the colt to the field. It was all men's talk anyway, and their words were soaring over her head until suddenly, a chord struck.

  ‘You were saying you have twenty four horses in training?’ Gramps paused, waiting for the answer.

  Phillip Carter stretched his long legs, and spoke confidently. ‘Yes, just over. Syndicates own most of them. It shares the costs and the disappointments.’

  ‘Funny, isn't it,’ said Gramps, ‘every racehorse owner thinks he has a potential winner?’

  Maria looked everywhere but at Carter, as he went on, ‘How right you are.’ His infectious laugh rang loud and clear. ‘And they seem to ignore the fact there's only one winner to a race. All the same,’ he continued, ‘we need these hopefuls to keep us in business; without them things would be pretty tight.’ He fell silent for a couple of minutes with a faraway look in his eyes, but then began to talk about his previous experiences in someone else’s stable, and how he had moved south only quite recently. ‘It was hard graft up north, and the harsh weather didn’t help,’ he said, wiping his hand across his brow with a grin, ‘but it served me well, and I reckon I owe my current success to what I learned at that stables.’

  Maria was listening silently, but she had sized up Phillip Carter as a man of confidence, one who liked his own way, and the sort whose company she would be happier without. Yet there was something intriguing about him.

  ‘Of course, I'd like room to take more horses,’ he went on calmly, ‘but I need a different kind of place for that.’ He smoothed back his hair again. ‘Something like this place of yours this would be ideal, for instance.’

  ‘So you intend to expand?’ Gramps asked.

  ‘Most certainly.’ His reply was emphatic. ‘I want to, but I’m short of stable space where I am. I applied once, but it's unlikely I'd ever get permission to expand there.’ He shrugged. ‘Something to do with a preservation order on the buildings, it seems.’

  Maria was now fully aware of the blood coursing through her veins, and at that moment she wondered what on earth this had to do with Gramps. Thoughts about the reason for Carter’s visit flashed through her mind. Was he after the farm? She was longing for him to take his leave so that she could find out why he had come. Even so, her curiosity made her want to hear more from the man himself.

  ‘Where is your establishment, Mr Carter?’ she asked, suddenly curious, but immediately reproaching herself for appearing even remotely interested.

  He turned to her, his expression intent as his eyes engaged hers. ‘Over the Severn Bridge,’ he said, ‘not far from Gloucester.’ His face creased in smiles as he held her gaze. ‘I've been fortunate,’ he added, ‘I inherited the place from an aunt, and it gave me the chance to realise my dreams.’ He drew a deep breath and pulled a face. ‘Having enjoyed a taste of success is the main reason I’d like to increase my stables.’ He glanced at his wristwatch. ‘I really must go now.’ He turned to Maria. ‘Goodbye, Miss Cable. Here’s wishing you every success with your paintings. I was most impressed with the ones I saw. You have a great talent.’ He reached for her hand, and as he clasped it, the sense of foreboding rose within her once more.

  ‘Thank you for showing me around, sir,’ he said, grasping Charles Cable’s hand. ‘You have a beautiful place, and I congratulate you on how well you do your horses.’ Phillip Carter was all smiles as he clasped his hands tightly around Gramps’ weathered fingers. He strode quickly to the door and stooped to negotiate the eighteenth century doorframe, but as soon as he stepped outside, he placed his felt rakishly on his head, tapped it, and bid a polite farewell, along with a parting shot. ‘Goodbye, for now, but please consider what I've said. Here’s hoping to see you both soon.’

  At his remark Maria jerked to attention, anxiety filling her mind as she reflected on the possible meaning of his words. She clenched her jaw, not quite knowing why, but felt certain she had no wish to see him again. As well as puzzling her, he annoyed her.

  Moments later she watched the Ferrari take off down the drive, and continued to watch as it slid swiftly past the low hedge bordering the front field. Then he was gone. She breathed a long sigh of relief, and the tension began to fade.

  ‘I'll help with the dishes,’ Gramps said, gathering them together.

  ‘Don’t bother; they won't take a minute,’ Maria said in a clipped voice, acutely aware by now that there had to be something going on. It seemed Gramps wanted to do anything but talk of Phillip Carter's visit. She waited for an explanation while she busied herself, but Gramps said nothing. She put the crockery away, then sat down and gave him a long, silent look. She wanted the details, and most of all to know why he had not told her he was expecting Phillip Carter to visit.

  Gramps cleared his throat with a little cough and patted the chintz-covered cottage sofa. ‘Come and sit here.’ His tone was falsely bright. ‘I can tell you're bothered, and I need to chat with you about different things.’

  His words made her stop and stare. Suddenly unable to contain her curiosity any longer, she exploded, ‘That man; why did he come here?’

  Charles Cable’s eyes held a faraway look as he answered. ‘I've been meaning to tell you something for a long time.’ He fidgeted, and stared at the floor. ‘But I didn't know how, or where, to begin, Maria.’ He shook his head. ‘I didn’t want to worry you. You had enough on your mind with your exams at college, so it was awkward for me.’ His voice trailed off.

  ‘Something's wrong, isn't it Gramps? I can tell.’ Maria's eyes were full of concern, then fear cramped her stomach. She felt sorry that Gramps had worries, but whatever they were, she was involved and had to face up to them too. ‘You've been overdoing yourself. Not ill are you?’ she said, trying to comfort him. ‘I'll be able to take some work off your shoulders now, so things’ll get better. Come on Gramps, cheer up.’

  ‘Too late, lass,’ he said, pushing back his thick, greying hair. ‘Far too late.’

  ‘Nonsense.’ She touched his hand lovingly, ‘Tell me what's bothering you; come on, out with it so we can sort it out.’

  With a look of guilt, he blinked and then launched into an explanation. ‘I,’ he stopped, rubbed his chin nervously, and looked up at the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths and tried again, ‘It’s the farm.’ He s
topped again to wipe away the beads of perspiration that were forming on his brow.

  Maria waited patiently. ‘I must know, Gramps,’ she said softly, ‘I've a right to know, so please tell me, whatever it is.’

  His eyes avoided hers. ‘I've been putting out feelers.’

  ‘For what?’ she queried, moving closer to him.

  Gramps shook his head. ‘You know I wouldn't do anything without telling you, but I had to try and sort something out first.’

  ‘Sort what out Gramps? I don't understand, so come on, out with it.’

  He cleared his throat. ‘There's been a cash flow problem ever since your father died, and things have been getting steadily worse.’ He put his hand gently on her arm. ‘Farming isn’t as profitable as it was. Those affluent days have gone.’

  ‘But we've never been in debt, have we, Gramps?’

  ‘Not until recently.’ He looked embarrassed for a moment, and then went on hurriedly. ‘It's getting tough now though. Gary's a godsend, but Manor Farm hasn't been running smoothly like it did in your father's capable hands.’ He paused, while Maria looked on silently, trying to take in his astounding statement. ‘You see,’ he went on, ‘I lost touch with farming when I retired, and it's hard work picking up where I left off. On top of that, things have changed so much, and today’s economic situation spells disaster.’

  ‘Go on,’ Maria said, taking a deep breath as she sensed there was more to come.

  ‘Well, land is valuable, but you can't spend it.’ He gave a wan smile. ‘Most farmers would try to borrow from the bank on the strength of collateral, even in this wretched economic climate, but not me; never had to, and I'm certainly not starting now. Lots of farmers buy expensive machinery on lease-hire, but I always bought mine for cash.’ He grinned widely for a few seconds. ‘Potato money secretly stashed away paid for them.’ He gave a weak laugh. ‘I was never short of a penny; always had cash for what was needed.’

  Maria listened in stunned silence as Gramps droned on. ‘You know that if land isn't worked properly to its maximum potential by grazing and crop growing, the income drops. That means less money for new stock, for seed, for fertilizer, for everything, in fact. They all cost money. It's a vicious circle, and we’re smack in the middle of it.’ He looked her straight in the eyes. ‘So many farmers are going bankrupt today.’

  ‘Then it’s downhill all the way?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘Afraid so, my lovely.’

  ‘Are you trying to tell me we’re bankrupt, that we’ve got to sell up, move to something smaller, or what? Is that it? Is that why Phillip Carter was here? Is he after buying this place?’ she blurted out, her fists clenched as her words tumbled out. Tears filled her eyes so she could barely see what Gramps' facial response was to her outburst.

  ‘No, my girl. It hasn't come to that; not yet.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘But it could if we don't do something about it straight away.’

  ‘Right,’ Maria said quietly, exercising all the control she could muster, ‘I see what you mean, but just what are we going to do? Have you thought of a way out?’

  Gramps scratched his head, and patted Maria's hand. ‘Not really, but don't worry, I’m sure it'll work out all right, in the end. We're worth a lot land-wise, of course, there’s stock, and the horses.’ He turned his face away as he spoke. ‘Phillip Carter is after more blood horses for new clients, and to be honest it’s time we down-sized ours.’

  Maria gasped, fear twisting her stomach. ‘The horses? But the few we have are hardly worth a fortune. Just how deeply in debt are we?’ She cringed, waiting for the worst. Her beloved Chance was one of those few horses, and no way was he going to be sold, whatever the consequences.

  ‘I can't give you definite figures right now, but what I can say is that we need a pretty hefty cash injection. And soon.’ Gramps spoke quietly. ‘I'm sorry to have to tell you this. I kept hoping I could sort out the problem so that I wouldn't have to say anything.’ He wiped hurriedly at his eyes, and put a comforting arm around Maria’s shoulders. Then he bent his head close to hers and whispered. ‘To be truthful, it couldn't be worse, my lovely. We're in deep trouble.’

  Chapter Three

  Maria felt numb. Contemplation of the possible consequences brought tears to her eyes, and however hard she tried to control the pitch of her voice, it was useless. ‘Was Phillip Carter here to persuade you to sell the farm?’ she squeaked, shaking her head as though denying the possibility. ‘Gramps, I'd hate to leave Manor Farm, you know that,’ she went on. There was a poignant silence while she looked anxiously at her grandfather. ‘Tell me; please tell me exactly why that man was here.’

  Without looking at her, Charles Cable’s words tumbled out as though he wanted to be rid of them. ‘It’s not the farm.’ He cleared his throat noisily as though it was difficult to speak. ‘It’s My Chance. Carter’s made a handsome offer for him.’ He let out a long sigh of relief the moment he had spoken.

  Maria’s expression froze, and the look in her eyes was one of total disbelief. ‘He’s what?’ Maria leapt to her feet. ‘No way, Gramps. Not My Chance. Carter can take a running jump.’ As the realisation of what Gramps had said sank in, the tears flowed. ‘You wouldn’t do that to me, would you Gramps? Not My Chance. He's mine,’ she sniffled. ‘You know Daddy always said he was mine.’ Her words were thick with emotion, choking in her throat as she spoke. ‘I knew that man meant trouble the moment I set eyes on him. There's something about him that really got to me.’

  She folded her arms defiantly. ‘Please - tell me this is a horrible nightmare.’ She took several deep breaths to steady her voice. ‘First Daddy, and now My Chance. Oh, Gramps, how can you even consider it?’ she scolded. ‘You know my father thought the world of him, and to let him go would be like breaking faith with Dad’s dreams.’ She paced the room to use up the adrenalin that coursed through her veins. ‘I won't have it!’

  ‘Don't you think I feel that too, Maria? But it's the only course.’

  ‘But the other horses?’ Her voice was high-pitched now, ‘sell them.’

  ‘As you've only just said, Maria, they're not worth a fortune. They wouldn't fetch a fraction of what Mr Carter’s offered for Chance. He’s after the bloodline for breeding, and we need the cash; it’s as simple as that. We must be realistic because there's no other way.’

  Maria wondered why life had to strike such cruel blows, but as she looked at her grandfather’s worried face she felt tenderness for him. I'm being selfish, she thought. He shouldn't have to work so hard, nor worry so much. After all, I've got my life and career ahead of me. She swallowed hard on the lump in her throat, and walked to the window, keeping her back towards Gramps as she wiped her eyes. With so much to worry about, she wanted to spare him the burden of her own sorrow even though she felt her heart was breaking.

  She composed herself, and turned to look at her grandfather and went to his side. Poor soul, she thought, gently taking his hand. ‘Don't worry, Gramps,’ she said, between sniffles. ‘We'll sort it out. I'll try to be sensible and come to terms with what you’ve just told me. It's a big shock. You know how much I love that horse, but if there’s no alternative …,’ her voice trailed off.

  She sat down, motionless and deep in thought. Then spat out the words in a burst of anger. ‘If that man hadn't come on the scene, we’d have found another way. I know we would have Gramps.’

  ‘Maybe, lass,’ he said softly, ‘but as far as I can see, there isn't one or I'd have taken it.’ He gave a wan smile. ‘Don’t blame Phillip Carter; our problem is not his fault.’

  ‘He thinks his money can buy whatever he wants. I hate the man anyway,’ she croaked, her eyes flashing in anger. Needing to occupy her mind with something different, she strode across the room with a strange feeling of unreality. ‘I'll give myself something to do; anything - I’ll set up the table,’ she said, reaching for the crockery. ‘Gary and Tom will be in for lunch, won't they?’ The cups bounced on the saucers, reflecting her mood as she pitc
hed them on the table. ‘There's a huge casserole in the oven, Gramps; plenty for the three of you.’

  ‘What about you? Not too upset to eat, I hope.’ Gramps’ voice was full of concern.

  Maria put her arm affectionately around her grandfather’s shoulders. ‘Of course I’m upset, but that’s not the reason I'm going out. I need paints and stretchers, so I’ll pop into town before lunch. It's a nice day, and it'll do me good to get out for a while and take a wander around town. I won’t be back until later, so enjoy your lunch and don't wait for me.’

  Charles Cable sighed with obvious relief. ‘That's my girl. All right, get on your way.’ He paused, and pushed his hand deep into his back pocket. ‘Here, take this.’ He pressed a few notes into the palm of her hand. ‘Make a day of it. Have lunch in town on me. Go and enjoy yourself my dear, if it’s at all possible under the circumstances.’

  ‘Gramps, you spoil me,’ Maria looked at the money her hand. ‘You said we’re strapped for cash; can you afford this?’

  ‘It’s a piffling amount, so be off with you girl.’

  Maria threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. ‘All right, I'll run upstairs and change into something bright.’ In ten minutes she was twirling around in the centre of the big kitchen. ‘I feel cool and fresh in this.’ She tried to sound and look happy for Gramps’ sake, but the twinkle in her eye was missing.

  ‘You’re as pretty as a flower in bloom, but don’t waste time, off you go.’

  Maria secured her chestnut hair at the nape of her neck, and glanced in the mirror. Feeling satisfied with the way she looked brought some sparkle to her eyes. Sidling up coaxingly, she nudged him. ‘Can I use your car? Mine’s full of paintings for the exhibition, and I don't want to risk leaving them in the car park.’

  ‘Of course.’ He opened the pantry window that looked out onto the rear yard. ‘Gary,’ he called, ‘bring my car to the front for Maria, please.’

  A distant voice answered, ‘Right’o, will do.’