Zara Stoneley - Summer of Surrender

As he reached the open stable door, his mobile buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the display. Dan. Took a step back so that he could watch Kezia and have some level of privacy.

‘What the fuck are you two playing at?’

‘Hi to you too, mate. And we’re having a good break, thanks for asking.’

‘We don’t need anyone to help out.’ He leaned back against the wall and twirled the fork.

‘Aw, come on Mr Grumpy. Marie said you’d probably have a hissy fit.’

‘Then why did you send her?’ He wasn’t exactly angry; now his body was back under control it was more an annoyance. There had been a plan, which suited him fine. They went and had fun. He stayed behind to look after the place, not babysit.

‘She needs something, someone.’

‘I’m not a someone.’

Dan laughed. ‘You’re not wrong, but you do okay as a something. Here, talk to Marie.’ He was handed over to the pacifier. Not that any of them was exactly fiery; they all knew how to defuse a situation, how not to rise to the bait. But they knew this was his weak spot; they knew that being stuck here with a woman depending on him was supposed to be out of the equation.

‘You’re not playing fair.’ He got a word in before she did.

‘Sorry.’ She sighed. ‘She’s had a tough time, but she’s nice. The clients will like her, they loved her in Capri. She’s got a gentle touch, she’s natural, no artifice, open.’

‘You don’t need to spell it out, I can read—’

‘I know, you’re better than me at understanding people, but I’m just trying to explain. I couldn’t leave her, James.’ Her voice was soft. ‘Help me to help her, please? Look after her, once she was out of that job she needed something straight away, trust me.’ Oh, great, someone desperate, one of Marie’s fallen angels who needed rescuing, putting back together again. Except she didn’t look like she was falling apart. She had guts, was prepared to fight her battles and stand her ground. Even if she was tiny and had great big eyes that shone out with a naivety and purity you didn’t often see these days. Especially not here.

‘So, why didn’t you tell me? And why didn’t you come back to sort it yourself?’

She laughed. ‘She needs someone like you, and she needs time to understand the place before we get clients back in. And,’ she paused, laughed, ‘I forgot.’

‘You haven’t given her a job description, have you?’

‘She’ll be fine. We’ll find her something to do.’

‘Marie.’ It was his turn to sigh. So he was trapped here for the summer with a girl, except nobody had told her what the job was. Once she knew what went on she’d probably go, like Roisin nearly had. But go where? Either way he’d look the bastard. Whether he cornered her into staying or chased her away. ‘And how do you know she’ll be any use?’

‘We’ll find something for her to do. She’s sweet, she’ll put people at ease.’ Another pause. ‘She’s got nowhere to go James, no money, nothing.’

And no one from the sound of it.

The sigh travelled across the miles. ‘Do you want me to come back?’

Great, that would mean two of them here to bother him. ‘I know you don’t mean that Marie, so I’m not even going to say no. You’ve got a soft spot for her for her haven’t you?’

‘You might get one too if you give her a chance.’

‘You know I haven’t got any spot to appeal to, so why are you trying? I don’t do waifs and strays.’

‘She’s neither. She’s sad, broke and needs a job. Go on, be nice to her.’

She had an air of melancholy to her that was for sure, from the way she’d played her guitar last night, like it really meant something to her. But sad? ‘I’m not a babysitting service.’ And she’s not a baby, far, far from a baby.

‘Will you at least be nice and find her something to do? Pretty please?’ He heard the chink of glasses in the background. ‘See what she thinks? And even if she’s not interested in staying long term, she can help out with the horses until we get back, which will give her a bit of cash.’

‘I was quite happy sorting the horses on my own, thanks.’

‘Roisin might even take her on as a stable hand. I bet she’s good with animals.’

He laughed. ‘You should see her with a pitchfork. I’ll catch you later.’ He flicked the phone off before she got a chance to say anything else, and took the handful of strides to the other side of the yard. And the girl, no, woman, who he seemed to be lumbered with.

‘Were you hoping I’d finish it before you got back?’ Her voice was soft, a question that went beyond the stable duties.

‘At the rate you work? No chance.’ He smiled, hoping it looked at least halfway to good-natured, swung the fork off his shoulder and stripped his shirt over his head.

She wolf-whistled.

‘You watch what you’re getting into, girl.’ He waved an admonishing finger at her and she gave him the Vs. ‘You watch it yourself, Mister.’

Hmm, any minute now and he’d be tempted to put her over his knee if she carried on the teasing. ‘Let’s move on to the next box. You’re getting better.’

‘Couldn’t get much worse you mean?’

‘Something like that.’ He watched as she got into the swing of it, lifting her fork more easily and with a steady rhythm now she knew what she was doing and every now and then she’d catch him looking and stick her tongue out or just grin.

For a lost and lonely girl she had a self-confidence that surprised him, and she worked hard, not pausing to chat or flirt like the other girls did.

‘So, what do you do here?’ They’d emptied the wheelbarrow for the last time and were putting the beds back down. ‘It isn’t just horses, is it?’

‘What did Marie tell you?’

She tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear and pursed her lips. ‘Well.’ She put her head on one side as though waiting for inspiration.

‘I’ll take that as not a lot then. So you came all this way for a job you know jack all about?’

‘I trusted Marie.’ She looked straight at him. ‘Are you saying I shouldn’t have?’

‘No, not exactly. Do you trust everyone you meet, then?’

‘Unless they give me a reason not to, Mr Cynical. And, anyhow, I hadn’t got anything else lined up, I’ve got to do something, so why not this?’ Her small shoulders went up in a shrug.

‘But what’s “this?” Stable hand?’

‘Well, what do you do?’

‘I’m a sex therapist.’

She laughed, carried on tossing straw in the air. ‘You’re a sex therapist?’

‘Yup, that’s what I do here, what we all do.’

The straw lost her attention. ‘You are kidding, right?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not. Wow.’ She leaned on the fork and eyed him up like she hadn’t seen him before. ‘But you’re a man.’

‘Well-spotted. Does that mean I don’t qualify to know about sex?’

‘Well, no, but… So, if you’re a sex therapist what does that make me?’

‘Good question. Chief shit shoveller?

‘I can do other things as well, you know.’ The glare she gave him was steelier than he expected. ‘So, you get wackos here who are sexaholics? Or can’t get it up and stuff?’

‘We get normal people like you and me who want better sex lives.’

She looked directly at him, her eyes slightly wider and gave a short, incredulous snort. ‘You don’t need to teach people about sex, you just do it, right? Sex is just sex.’

‘Not necessarily.’ He tucked his hands into his pockets and leaned back against the wall. ‘People don’t always know what good sex is, or how to ask someone to please them.’

She’d coloured up a bit, but wasn’t backing down. ‘Bollocks. I mean I wouldn’t go to a sex therapist. I mean if you like someone enough to sleep with them, then it’s just going to happen isn’t it.’