The Country Escape (38 page)

‘The heat coming off you two could raze Twelve Oaks,’ whispered Tina, pulling off her mask
and fanning herself with it.

‘There’s really nothing going on,’ Kat insisted.

‘Oh, come on, you’re clearly crackers about one another,’ Tina giggled, ‘and I can’t say anyone was surprised to hear that you and Russ have split.’

The gossip at the julep bar was clearly in full flow tonight. ‘We’re still friends,’ Kat said carefully. ‘We just came off benefits.’

They both
watched Miriam sweep up the aisle as she carried her raffle-ticket box to the front in a gale of flapping crinoline, cornering Dougie to get his fancy-dress winner. His eyes were on Kat again. She hoped he didn’t fix it so that she won: there were far better Scarletts in the room. And even though he was dressed as Ashley Wilkes, there was only one man who came close to Rhett in her mind.

‘He’s Ever-Rhett,’ she breathed, in Scarlett’s petulant drawl.

‘Fiddle-de-dee,’ came an equally arrogant drawl as a mint julep was thrust at her and Dougie landed back in his seat, maintaining the Yankee accent as he handed a second glass to Tina. ‘Your good health, ladies. May I see you home tonight, Miss Mason?’ He looked at her in a way that left her in no doubt what that meant.

If you walk home with him, you’ll kiss, Kat thought, the delicious flip turning in her stomach again. But already she was planning a way to avoid it. If they kissed, she’d be lost, the old wounds ready to open. They could end up in bed and her demons would be waiting there to spoil everything. This time it would be far, far worse than with Russ, to whom she had never been as attracted as she was
to Dougie and who had later so nobly tried and failed to help her. She couldn’t go through it again, and certainly not with Dougie.

‘I have a lift,’ she said quickly. ‘Tina’s taking me back.’

‘I am? I am!’ Stifling another yawn, Tina looked mildly confused, but good-naturedly assumed she must have agreed to it somewhere along the line. ‘I’ll take you both back. My pleasure.’

Miriam had clambered on stage now, removing her mask, which hampered her ability to project her voice above the crowd’s hubbub. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of the fancy dress – kindly chosen by our local acting star Dougie Everett – are Babs and Bill Hedges!’

There was a unanimous cheer as the portly, chortling duo who had raided the am-dram costume store swept up to collect a
brace of claret bottles, Babs resplendent in Maid Marion’s green velvet gown from last year’s panto embellished with curtain ties, and Bill in a white tux, ribbon tie and Panama.

‘Good choice,’ congratulated Kat.

‘I was supposed to fix it for you to win,’ he admitted in an undertone, checking that Tina couldn’t hear. ‘Cyn asked me at the fete; she thought it would cheer you up.’

Kat burned with indignation. ‘I don’t need favouritism like that!’

‘That’s what I said. Besides, I couldn’t possibly award a fancy-dress prize to someone I’d far rather see naked.’

The raffle draw was now in full swing, but Kat didn’t take in a word because she’d fallen into Dougie’s eyes again and they were both treading water, a blue oasis that made the room disappear.

‘For the last time, yellow THREE SIX TWO!’ Miriam shrieked, so loudly that the oasis was momentarily as crowded as a Club Med swimming-pool. Still holding Kat’s gaze, Dougie groped in his pocket and found a wad of tickets, handing them to Tina.

‘It’s yours!’ Tina announced cheerfully then, realizing that nobody was listening, leaped up to claim the prize.

Watching the
second half of the film, Kat barely followed a thing. The mint julep she’d drunk in the intermission had made her light-headed. She tried and failed not to look at Dougie through the darkness, but his eyes were always waiting there, watchful, amused, reassuring and dangerously carnal. She only realized that her hand had slipped into his when his thumb drew a line on her palm from the soft dip of
her wrist to the valley between middle and ring fingers. Back and forth it danced, then drew spirals in and out of the centre of her heart line. Kat was getting ever hotter, ridiculously aroused. Any minute now, she’d be throwing her head back and easing her thighs apart. Still his eyes stayed on hers.

‘Get a room,’ somebody behind them muttered, and Kat dragged herself back to reality,
remembering this was the village hall where she taught the women to power-punch, Pilates stretch and pump the burn, where they held flower and produce shows, harvest suppers and parish council meetings. Here was not the place to fall in lust and love with Dougie Everett.

She forced herself to look at the screen and realized that the voice behind her had been referring to Babs and Bill canoodling
noisily in the row in front, already well into the claret. Beyond them, Scarlett and Rhett were taking a tour of their Atlanta mansion. The warm hand was still in hers. It tightened its grip. She tightened hers back but then, worried that she was misleading him, snatched it away. No touching was safe, she remembered. With Nick, the merest passing stroke of his hair could lead to the hand
flying up to clamp her wrist. He’d taken possession from affection and cauterized desire.

Tugging up her dress front, which had plunged again, she determinedly didn’t look at Dougie as she watched the figures moving about on screen, the sumptuous sets, the dresses, the passions and tragedies that made up the death throes of a truly epic love story. She was determined not to think back to
her little Hertfordshire new build with its Next Interiors finish, its immaculate tidiness, the mini gym in the spare bedroom, the trashy novel her side of the bed, spy thriller his, and the smart TV on which they could have watched big, beautiful films like this while holding hands, but never had. It had served a very different purpose. Their relationship’s death throes had been so small and suburban
compared to this, yet she’d found her way to a Tara eventually. Tomorrow she would ride faster and further than she ever had before. If Rhett frankly didn’t give a damn then she wasn’t about to hold his hand.

Tina’s car smelt strongly of horse, crisps and Sudocrem. Kat found herself sitting on a grooming kit, an empty Red Bull can and several rosettes, but at least she could justifiably
commandeer the whole of the back seat for her skirt, and Tina put the radio on so loudly that there was no need to talk. Better still, they dropped off Dougie first, the driveway to the mill being far easier to navigate from the estate’s newly tarmacked parkland drive than the wooded Lake Farm track.

Engine still running, Tina thrust a big fake-fur kitten at Dougie. ‘Don’t forget your raffle
prize. It’s a bed buddy. You heat it up in the microwave.’

‘Keep it as a thank-you for the lift,’ said Dougie, stepping out to open the back door. The radio was so loud that Tina didn’t hear him add, ‘There’s only one cat I want in my bed tonight.’ He offered his hand. ‘Let me walk you home from here.’

Kat gripped the seat. ‘I really need to get straight back to the dogs. It’s just
two minutes further in the car. And I promised to give Tina back some tack she lent me.’

‘No worries,’ Tina shouted, over the radio, putting the stuffed kitten on the seat beside her and patting it. ‘The kids’ll love this. Thanks.’

Illuminated by the car light as he held open the door, epaulettes gleaming, Dougie gave a formal bow. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then,’ he said.

‘Indeed!’ she said brightly, just stopping herself from adding ‘Great balls of fire’ which was exactly what it felt as though she had burning in her chest right now.

Beside the big chestnut tree in the meadow, Dougie had lit a campfire that was smoking merrily, a billy-can bubbling on a hook. Worcester grazed nearby, bit jangling, and Quiver dived in and out of the long grass trying to catch bees.
He knew it was a cliché cowboy pose, and that such showmanship could easily backfire, but he needed to hide his quandary behind self-mockery. Setting the scene for seduction had cheered him up enormously, although the dark mood he’d been carrying around all day still lingered. The simmering resentment he’d built at being side-stepped by Kat the previous night sat heavily alongside the fact that
he was deceiving her. He half expected her not to come, but at seven o’clock on the dot, he heard hoof-falls. His heart was stampeding.

She rode up cautiously, colour spotting her cheeks, clearly reluctant to dismount.

‘This evening, we’re both facing our demons.’ He held up some inflatable armbands and a snorkel, which, to his relief, made her laugh.

‘Are you planning to
walk over hot coals?’ She indicated the fire.

‘No – I just want a cup of tea and a chat. Hop off.’

Her green eyes flashed and for a moment he thought she would turn around and gallop away. Dougie could hardly blame her: he usually reacted to people saying they wanted to talk with exactly the same urge, but telling her he wanted to press her up against the chestnut trunk and pull
her legs up around him would send her off even faster.

Jumping down, she watched him unhook the billy-can and pour hot water into two enamel cups. ‘Wouldn’t it have been easier to bring a Thermos?’ She pulled Sri’s reins over her head and perched on one of the logs Dougie had set up around the fire.

‘Where’s your sense of outdoor adventure?’ He couldn’t get her to look at him at
all. Last night’s connection felt like another lifetime. He wanted to bring dusk forward, dim the sun and put on an epic movie.

She was looking into the fire. ‘I’m not sure I can swim the lake on one cup of tea. I’ll probably need vodka.’

‘We’ve got to get you and the mare into the drink somehow, but I’d rather you weren’t drunk.’ He handed her a steaming mug before settling on a
log on the opposite side of the flames. ‘I have a trainer mate who has a horse swimming-pool. We could start there?’ He found the idea of her ducking and diving around racehorses in a bikini highly appealing.

‘It’s only open water that frightens me. Or anywhere I can’t see the bottom.’ She grimaced at the effort of explaining, tin cup clutched in her hands. Behind her the two terriers that
had come with her joined Quiver diving for insects in the undergrowth, all yapping eagerly. ‘I know it’s just a mental block, but however many times I tell myself it’s different this time and it’s safe, I literally can’t breathe for fear. I can feel myself go through all the motions, but it’s all too frantic, too desperate, and I don’t have time to think or relax, yet at the same time I’m shutting
down like a crocodile, sinking to the bottom of a river, imagining I can fill my lungs with air, slow my heartbeat and survive until it’s over.’

Watching her, Dougie wasn’t entirely sure that she was just talking about swimming. It was impossible to read the expression on her face as the air danced and twisted in the heat above the fire. ‘Think you could get into the lake here on horseback
this evening? Face your demon?’

‘Unlikely,’ she admitted, looking down at her cup. ‘This tea tastes weird.’

‘It’s Earl Grey, and don’t change the subject. If you want me to help you, we need to talk about that demon. What could possibly go wrong for a strong swimmer who is as clever and brave as you?’ When she didn’t reply, he said, ‘Your ex left you frightened of more than just
open water, didn’t he?’

Again, she didn’t answer. Then Dougie realized she was looking straight at him and he almost couldn’t speak for the blood rushing through him. She looked haunted. She had looked at him in the same way last night. He wanted to wrap his arms tightly around her and make the demon go away, but she was already standing up, using the log as a mounting block. ‘Thanks for
the tea, but I’d rather do a dare.’

He emptied his enamel cup and threw it down by the knapsack at the fire’s edge, casting a regretful look at the chestnut tree. ‘Okay, let’s ride.’

As soon as Kat was back in the saddle, she visibly relaxed, the big smile flooded with warmth, the thrill of a dare coursing through her. Sri quickly fell into step alongside Dougie on Worcester, and
they rode beneath the long shadows of the woods, watched by two roe deer tail-twitching behind the first tree line. Dougie watched her profile, willing her to look at him, but she kept her eyes fixed between the mare’s curled ears.

‘See that sheep feeder there?’ He pointed far ahead.

‘Yup.’

‘I dare you to tell the truth before we reach it.’

‘That’s cheating.’

‘I’ve told you, I always cheat at games.’

‘Is this a game to you?’

‘No.’ It was Dougie’s turn to look away, aware of the hypocrisy in demanding the truth. And yet it didn’t feel anything like a lie when he said, ‘I enjoy spending time with you.’

‘Will Seth’s corporate-hospitality clients get to enjoy this level of personal service while they’re on the manhunts?’ she asked.

Dougie registered the renewed scrutiny with irritation. ‘As long as they call me Master and wish me good night before they leave.’

‘I shouldn’t think oligarchs are too keen on calling anyone Master.’

He looked across at her sharply. ‘What makes you think they’re oligarchs?’

Kat was threading her fingers through the mare’s mane, pulling out tangles, her brow creased.
‘I heard that’s who Arjan Singh does most of his business with these days. Big arms deals between Russia and India.’

‘Who’s Arjan Singh?’

‘Surely you know Seth’s real name? He’s your boss.’

‘None of my business as long as I get paid,’ he muttered, feeling foolish for not knowing.

‘So how does huntsman work compare with Hollywood rates?’

‘I was on a pretty low
pay scale there,’ he admitted, trying not to think about the debts he’d left behind and the vet’s bills still racking up. ‘I was never going to have the dedication to make acting a long-term career. The fire made me wake up to reality. I love making movies and I liked my taste of stardom, but I found the film industry seriously dull.’ He hadn’t told anybody this, and found it surprisingly liberating.
‘Seth had been chasing me to do this job for a while. When I realized how much I’d screwed up with Kiki, I came here to sort my head out. Finding you was an added bonus,’ he said, wincing at the accidental choice of word. They were almost at the sheep feeder already and he was the only one baring his tarnished soul.

She was looking at him now. He tried for a big, flirty smile but it wouldn’t
come. Her eyes hypnotized him.

She didn’t smile either, the big defensive show-stopper held in check, lower lip pressed beneath her teeth. He adored the way it emphasized her upper lip, curving up at its centre like a Scythian bow.

‘I want to help you, Kat.’ He tried the big smile again, but again it failed him as his eyes got caught up in hers, amazed at their greenness. ‘I want
to see you ride the Bolt. And to do that, I need to understand what happened to you. I know exactly what it’s like to get such almighty flashbacks you can’t function. The first time I got on a horse after the fire, I froze, and it wasn’t just flames in my head. You almost drowned, but I don’t think that’s what made you run away from Nick to come here.’

Dougie had now seen a photograph of
Nick in the research files that Dollar had left him – a smug, handsome no-necked rectangle of over-pumped testosterone. He disliked him instinctively.

‘How long were you together?’

‘Three years, and engaged for one,’ she said eventually. ‘Some mutual friends set us up – he’s a firefighter into free-running. I was a fitness-fanatic nurse who’d do anything for a dare. We both loved
spicy food, adventure holidays, action movies and clubbing. We seemed the perfect match. It was fun and physical.’ She looked down at her hands, fingers slipping into the mare’s mane.

In the minute of silence that followed, Dougie became aware of her change in breathing over the hoof-falls, the clank and creak of tack. However hard Kat tried to hide it, the breath was punching in and out
of her lungs, the oxygen diminishing. He wanted to breathe for her, a kiss of life that he knew was far more complicated than resuscitation. The realization shook him.

Then she started talking, a rushed account of her first big relationship and her sexual awakening. How Nick had been amazing to begin with. How she’d had boyfriends before and it was fun, but what she’d had with him had blown
them all out of the water. How he could be very assertive, but she’d liked that, and he had seemed so self-assured and experienced. It just kept getting better.

Dougie glared at the horizon as he listened, seriously regretting his determination to know this. She was probably still hooked on him, he decided furiously, cut down by his own jealousy, wondering how fast he could ride to drum
heroic Nick from his head. He knew he had asked for this, demanded it even, but now he wanted it to go away. Yet something in her voice kept him listening, the tight pinch of fear in her larynx, endearingly gruff and heart-breakingly honest.

‘He never made a secret of the fact he liked porn,’ she was saying. ‘All his mates watched it too. They’d download it at the fire station while they
waited for shouts. He introduced me to it, and at first I thought it was amazing. We watched it together, got off on it, and it was a real kick. But as time went on, he always wanted to watch it when we had sex and do the things in the movie. I played along, but he got more demanding, less loving. He seemed to need more extremes all the time. I grew to hate it, but if I complained he got really
angry and aggressive. He frightened me.’ She dropped one rein and rubbed her face, blinking hard. ‘God, what was in that tea? It’s like a truth drug.’

‘Don’t change the subject,’ he said softly. The relationship had been a long way off Aphrodite and Adonis. ‘Was he violent?’

‘Not violent exactly – overbearing sometimes, especially in bed, but that had been part of the attraction
at first so he thought I was playing a part when I begged him to stop.’ She bit her lip. ‘My girlfriends all thought I was so lucky, with my own firefighting Christian Grey – but he took it way too far once or twice and it was hard to trust him after that.’

‘How do you mean “too far”?’ Dougie had become so familiar with her face now that he knew when it was about to put on its impenetrable
defensive mask. ‘Please don’t smile.’

She chewed her lip harder with the effort of holding back the big smile.

He knew she must have smiled at Nick, the confused signal with which she charmed the world, both reassuring and defensive. It could make her appear ever-complicit when in fact she was protecting herself and even when she was terrified. She’d learned to use that smile in
an abusive relationship as a pacifier. If Nick didn’t figure out the smile in three years, he couldn’t have worked Kat out at all, Dougie thought furiously.

‘Sex became a performance,’ she told him quietly, eyes clenching shut. ‘There was no affection. He insisted on the porn every time and it grew more degrading. He said it was normal, that all couples did it, a communal dirty secret.
After a while, I just went cold at the thought of having sex. I had to drink half a bottle of wine to go there. I did anything to avoid it. It affected our entire relationship. Nick said he worshipped me, but he pushed me around like meat and talked over me. He wouldn’t ever admit there was a problem. He said it was in my head. He accused me of being frigid.’ She screwed up her face, opened her eyes
apologetically and glanced at him, embarrassed. ‘I’m only telling you all this for one reason, Dougie. I want the flirting to stop. You have to understand that I am not going to sleep with you. I am
not
an easy lay.’

‘I never thought you were,’ Dougie said quietly. All he wanted was to reassure her, but everything he said seemed glib and cavalier. ‘You don’t get rid of me that easily.’

He resisted an urge to crash his forehead on to Worcester’s hogged neck, certain she knew the fire and the tea had been accessories to a fantasy cowboy seduction, just as she’d always seen through his full-on charm offensive, which had started out as tongue-in-cheek but had intensified into a very real and overwhelming desire to take her to bed and savour every inch of her. His Don Juan
approach must have horrified her after what she’d been through.

Dougie’s own hypocrisy was yet again battering at his temples. He’d screwed with triple-X movies playing in the background more than once. He was a big-ego horny show-off who thoroughly enjoyed performance-fucking occasionally. Yet right now, unable to take his eyes from Kat’s and unable to smile, he felt like a puritanical
redneck determined to scorch hard-core filth from every hard drive on the planet, and to string Nick up by the part of him that had ruled his brain and messed with Kat’s head. He wanted to teach her to enjoy again what her body could do and feel with another’s. He wanted to look after her, to roar at anyone who threatened her. But he also knew that everything he instinctively wanted to do for her
would make her feel more threatened – apart from riding like a maniac across a Herefordshire estate.

‘What
was
in that tea?’

‘Magic mushrooms.’

She dropped her reins, fingertips raking her forehead. ‘You
drugged
me?’

‘Actually, it was just Earl Grey.’

To his relief, she laughed. ‘Does getting pushed off a horse at speed give someone amnesia? I’d quite like you
to forget what you just heard.’

‘There’s no point in running away from the past. You don’t learn from it,’ he said, surprising himself with his wisdom. ‘You had to be held under water to see what really lay at the other end of that aisle.’

‘Perhaps you’re right. Nobody saw me as an individual any more, least of all me. We were Nick-and-Kat, problems and all.’