Phinn left Honeysuckle Farm endeavouring not to think what her mother’s reaction to her plan would be. Appalled would not cover it.
By Thursday of that week Phinn was trying to tell herself that she felt quite enthusiastic about her proposed move. She had been to see Mickie Yates and found him in his workshop, up to his elbows in muck and grease, but with the loveliest smile of welcome on his face for her.
Whatever he thought when she asked for use of him and one of his vehicles to transport her cases and horse equipment on Friday she did not know. All he’d said was, ‘After three suit you, Phinn?’
She knew he would be having his ‘lunch’ in the Cat and Drum until two fifty-five. ‘Lovely thank you, Mickie,’ she had replied.
It was a surprisingly hot afternoon, and Phinn, not certain when she would be in the village again, decided to walk Ruby to the village farrier. It would be even hotter at the forge, so she changed out of her more usual jeans and top, exchanging them for a thin, loose-fitting sleeveless cotton dress. Donning some sandals, she felt certain that by now grumpy Allardyce must be back in London, where he surely more particularly belonged.
Perhaps after their visit to Idris Owen, the farrier and blacksmith, a man who could turn his hand to anything and who had been another friend of her father’s, Phinn and Ruby might take another stroll in the shady spinney.
Knowing that she should be packing her belongings prior to tomorrow’s move, she left her flat—and on the way out bumped into Geraldine Walton. Geraldine seemed difficult to miss these days. But for once Phinn was not anxious about meeting her.
‘You do know I shall want the flat on Saturday?’ Geraldine began a touch stiffly, before Phinn could say a word.
‘You shall have it,’ she replied. ‘Ruby and I are moving tomorrow.’
Geraldine’s severe look lightened. ‘You are? Oh, good! Er…I hope you’ve found somewhere—suitable?’
Phinn ignored the question in her voice. Villages being villages, she knew she could not hope to keep her new address secret for very long. But, her new address being part of the Broadlands Estate, the longer it was kept from Ty Allardyce the better. Not that she was aware if Geraldine even knew him, but there was no point in inviting more of his wrath—and a definite court summons—if they were acquainted.
‘Most suitable,’ she replied with a smile, and, aiming to make the best of what life was currently throwing at her, she went to collect Ruby.
Idris greeted Phinn with the same warm smile she had received from Mickie Yates. Idris was somewhere around fifty, a huge mountain of a man, with a heart as big. ‘How’s my best girl?’ he asked, as he always did. No matter what time of day she visited, he always seemed to have a pint of beer on the go. ‘Help yourself,’ he offered, as he checked Ruby’s hooves and shoes.
Phinn still did not like beer any better than she had when she had first tasted it. But it was blisteringly hot in there, and to take a healthy swig of his beer—as encouraged so to do in the past by her father—was now traditional. She picked up the pot and drank to her father’s memory.
When he was done, Idris told her that she owed him nothing, and she knew he would be upset if she insisted on paying him. So, thanking him, she and Ruby left the smithy and headed for the small wood.
Keeping a watchful eye out for the elder Allardyce, Phinn chatted quietly to Ruby all the way through the spinney, and Ruby, having a good day for once, talked back, nodded and generally kept close.
Once out of the shaded spinney, they strolled towards the pool with the heat starting to beat down on them. Ruby loved the warmth, and Phinn, catching a glimpse of the pool, had started to think in terms of what a wonderful day for a swim.
No, I shouldn’t. She attempted to ignore that part of her that was seeing no earthly reason why she shouldn’t take a quick dip. She glanced about—no one in sight. They ambled on, reaching the pool and some more trees, and all the while Phinn fought down the demon temptation.
She would never know whether or not she would have given in to that demon had not something happened just then that drove all other thoughts from her head. Suddenly in the stillness she heard a yell of alarm. It came from the dark side of the pool. It was the cry of someone in trouble!
In moments she had run down the bank and did not have to search very far to see who was in trouble—and what the trouble was! Oh, God! Her blood ran cold. Across from the shallow end was a dark area called the Dark Pool—because that was precisely what it was: dark. Dark because it was overhung with trees and the sun never got to it. Not only was it dark, it was deep, and it was icy. And everyone knew that you must never attempt to swim there. Only someone was in there! Ash Allardyce! He was flailing about and quite clearly close to drowning!
All Phinn knew then was that she had to get to him quickly. There was a small bridge spanning the narrow part of the pool, but that was much farther down. And time was of the essence. There was no time to think, only time to act. Her father had taught her lifesaving, and had taught her well. Up until then it was a skill she had never needed to use.
Even as these thoughts were flashing thought her mind Phinn was kicking off her sandals and pulling her dress over her head. Knowing she had to get to Ash, and fast, and all before she could query the wisdom of what she was doing, Phinn was running for the water and taking a racing dive straight in.
After having been so hot, the water felt icy, but there was no time to think about that now. Only time to get to Ash. Executing a sprinting crawl, Phinn reached him in no time flat, gasped a warning, ‘Stay still or you’ll kill us both,’ turned him onto his back and, glad for the moment that he was twenty pounds lighter than he had been, towed him to the nearest bank, which was now on the opposite side from where she had first seen him.
How long he had been struggling she had no idea. ‘Cramp!’ he managed to gasp, and managed to sit up, head down, his arms on his knees, exhausted, totally drained of energy.
It had all happened so quickly, but now that it was over Phinn felt pretty drained herself, and had an idea she knew pretty much how a mother must feel when she had just found her lost child. ‘You should have had more sense,’ she berated him with what breath she could find. ‘Everybody knows you don’t swim in that part of the pool.’ Suddenly she was feeling inexplicably weepy. Shock, she supposed. Then she remembered Ruby, and looked to the other bank. She could not see her. ‘I’ll be back,’ she said, and took off.
Not to swim this time—she didn’t feel like going back in there in a hurry—but to run down to the small bridge. It fleetingly crossed her mind as she ran to wonder if Ash had perhaps been a touch suicidal to have chosen to swim where he had. Then she recalled he had said he’d had a cramp, and she began to feel better about leaving him. She had been brought up knowing that a deep shelf had been excavated on that side of the pool for some reason that was now lost in the mists of time. The water was deep there—nobody knew how deep, but so deep as to never heat up, and was regarded locally with the greatest respect. Ash, who hadn’t been brought up in the area, could not possibly have known unless someone had told him. Well, he knew now!
Phinn ran across the bridge, and as she did so she saw with relief that Ruby had not wandered off and that she was quite safe. Phinn’s relief was short-lived, however, because in that same glance she saw none other than Ty Allardyce. Phinn came to an abrupt halt.
Oh, help! He was facing away from her and had not yet spotted her. He was looking about—perhaps searching for his brother? He was close to Ruby. Then Phinn saw that he was not only close to Ruby, he had hold of her rein. Phinn knew then that it was not his brother he was searching for but Ruby’s owner—and that Ruby’s owner was in deep trouble!
As if aware of someone behind him, Ty Allardyce turned round. Turned and, as if he could not believe his eyes, stared at her.
And