Deadfall by Lyndon Stacey Page B

team.
    â€˜Where would it be?’ he asked. As if it mattered! He would travel to Timbuktu for the chance to be included on one of her courses.
    â€˜Possibly Stoneleigh. It’ll probably be a long weekend. Do I take it you’re interested?’
    â€˜Extremely,’ Linc confirmed.
    â€˜Good. I’ll be in touch,’ she said briskly. ‘And by the way, well done for riding that grey. Sean O’Connor used to ride him in Ireland and had some success but I don’t think even
he
was too sad to see him go. Night Train needs a hell of a lot of work but you did brilliantly. Your mum would have been proud of you.’
    Back at the lorry Linc saw Crispin for the first time that day. Boyishly handsome with brown eyes, a wide infectious grin and short brown hair that he’d recently taken to wearing softly spiky, he was enough like Linc for them to be recognisable as brothers, but took after his mother more than the paternal line.
    â€˜I’ve got some incredible shots!’ he exclaimed with enthusiasm. ‘I kept moving between the watersplash and that Lovers Leap fence and absolutely
everything
happened at those two jumps!’
    â€˜What happened with that poor girl?’ Linc asked.
    â€˜I don’t know.’ Crispin hadn’t ridden since their mother had died and wasn’t in the least bit horsy. ‘The animal seemed to hesitate and then slip off the edge. Its front legs went down in the ditch and it somersaulted on top of her. It was gruesome! Nikki says she died on the way to hospital. I’m notsurprised. Honestly, Linc, I don’t know why you do it. You must be mad! Especially with our family history.’
    â€˜Oh, come on, Crispin. You’re beginning to sound like Dad. You know as well as I do that accidents like that are pretty rare. By the way, you’ll never guess who I’ve been talking to . . .’ He told his brother about Hilary Lang and her exciting proposition.
    â€˜So what does this mean? Are you chucking in the job to become a full-time eventer?’ Crispin joked.
    â€˜No. Even supposing I could afford to. Actually, I’ve been thinking about the money thing; it’s not cheap, this eventing business, and I could really do with a lorry of my own. I can’t keep borrowing the Hathaways’.’
    â€˜Well, what about a sponsor?’
    â€˜Mmm. Unfortunately it’s not all that easy to drum up much interest in eventing. It’s not exactly a sport that gets massive exposure.’
    It was something he’d thought about quite a lot lately. Eventing was an extremely expensive sport, with relatively poor prize money – even at the very top – and offers of sponsorship were like gold dust. For a rider aiming for the national teams, it was impractical to have to rely on one horse, even if that horse was a dazzling talent, which Linc had to admit Noddy wasn’t. Two horses, however, meant double the bills. Double the feed bill, two sets of shoes each time, more tack, more vet bills, entry fees, and livery fees. If only he could keep them at home that would be one less expense. Ah, well.
    Linc didn’t visit the Vicarage the following day.Ruth and Josie had offered to see that Noddy had some gentle exercise to ease any stiffness in his muscles and Linc was able to give all his attention to estate business. When he’d got back from Talham the news on Abby had been indeterminate. Her condition was no worse but neither was it improving. The determined cheerfulness amongst the adult members of her family was heartbreaking. They had been thrilled with Noddy’s blue rosette and Hilary Lang’s interest, and pressed Linc to stay for a meal to give them the complete story of the day’s events, which he did, skipping over the fatality at the drop fence. They didn’t need any more bad news.
    The whole atmosphere couldn’t have been more different than on his return to Farthingscourt,