walk towards her, cautious not to trip and head butt her by accident. That would really be a first impression.
I stand in front of her, looking to Will for encouragement. She starts sniffing and making weird noises, her big mouth moving towards me. Shit! She’s going to eat me.
‘Here, give her a polo,’ he offers, handing one over.
I instinctively put it flat in the centre of my palm and shyly offer it to her with a shaking hand. She grabs it from me, her tongue saturating my hand. Ugh, gross. I wipe it on my jeans, unable to hide my disgust.
‘She likes you,’ he smiles, contentedly stroking her hair.
‘She likes polo’s more like.’ I laugh nervously.
I tentatively reach up to her hair and lightly stroke it, accidentally brushing Will’s fingers. My skin burns at the contact. I quickly move my hand away. I feel her skin and the warmth that comes from it is weirdly comforting. She’s an actual living little thing. Not so little actually.
‘So what’s the plan with saving the home?’ I ask, trying to quickly get over the awkwardness. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Well, in between the sex. Where will all the residents go? Will they be left homeless?
‘Plan?’ he asks, seeming shocked. He shakes his hand. ‘I don’t have a plan.’
‘Just as I thought,’ I nod. ‘So I think we should arrange some events to raise some money. What do you think?’
‘Okay.’ He nods, deep in thought. ‘You get the ball rolling on something and I’ll support you any way I can.’
I smile shyly. Why on earth do I feel shy? I’m never bloody shy. I look back at Mitsy, the size of her registering to me what a massive chore I’ve taken on.
‘So what exactly do I need to do with this horse?’
***
Why the hell did I volunteer to do this? I don’t even bloody like Will and here I am working like a dog, just so that I can look after his horse. For free. In my spare time. What a doughnut. And why I ever thought wearing Elsie’s UGGs was a good idea is beyond me. It's so muddy up here, they’re bloody soaked. She’s going to kill me. I cannot wait to go home and get in the shower. My muscles are so sore and heavy. I don’t get how horse riders don’t look like supermodels. It’s a serious workout.
‘Right,’ Will says, breaking me out of my destructive thoughts, ‘there’s only one more thing to do.’
My heart sinks. I literally cannot do another single thing or I might just die here on the floor. My muscles are screaming in agony every time I move. And I have to work at the pub tonight.
‘Don’t look so horrified,’ he grins. ‘I was just going to ask if you wanted to ride her.’
‘Ride her?’ I look up at the giant horse in apprehension. ‘I don’t know,’ I waver. ‘Maybe you should just ride her today and I’ll do it next time.’
He suddenly turns away from me. ‘I don’t ride her,’ he says sadly. He turns back to face me, his eyes glazing over with some memory.
‘Why not?’ I blurt out. What’s the point of having a horse if you don’t ride it?
I wonder if he had a horrific accident and it's mentally scarred him for life. He doesn’t seem to have any physical scars.
‘I just…I haven’t been able to ride her. Since…since my mum died.’ He looks to the floor, his hand raking through his wayward hair.
Oh God. He looks so forlorn. I want to hug him, but I pull myself back before I become a complete hippie weirdo that walks around hugging people. That’s so far from me. God, am I turning into Elsie? I shiver at the thought.
‘Anyway.’ He shakes his head and runs his hand over the back of his neck. ‘Maybe we should go for a drink. You know, so I can thank you for taking this on.’
Go for a drink? Is he serious?
‘Oh.’
Hasn’t he seen how disgusting I look? I haven’t got a mirror, but it's pretty obvious with my wet UGGs, starting to frizz hair and smudged mascara. He made me cry when I had to pick up the horse poo. God, it was
I stand in front of her, looking to Will for encouragement. She starts sniffing and making weird noises, her big mouth moving towards me. Shit! She’s going to eat me.
‘Here, give her a polo,’ he offers, handing one over.
I instinctively put it flat in the centre of my palm and shyly offer it to her with a shaking hand. She grabs it from me, her tongue saturating my hand. Ugh, gross. I wipe it on my jeans, unable to hide my disgust.
‘She likes you,’ he smiles, contentedly stroking her hair.
‘She likes polo’s more like.’ I laugh nervously.
I tentatively reach up to her hair and lightly stroke it, accidentally brushing Will’s fingers. My skin burns at the contact. I quickly move my hand away. I feel her skin and the warmth that comes from it is weirdly comforting. She’s an actual living little thing. Not so little actually.
‘So what’s the plan with saving the home?’ I ask, trying to quickly get over the awkwardness. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Well, in between the sex. Where will all the residents go? Will they be left homeless?
‘Plan?’ he asks, seeming shocked. He shakes his hand. ‘I don’t have a plan.’
‘Just as I thought,’ I nod. ‘So I think we should arrange some events to raise some money. What do you think?’
‘Okay.’ He nods, deep in thought. ‘You get the ball rolling on something and I’ll support you any way I can.’
I smile shyly. Why on earth do I feel shy? I’m never bloody shy. I look back at Mitsy, the size of her registering to me what a massive chore I’ve taken on.
‘So what exactly do I need to do with this horse?’
***
Why the hell did I volunteer to do this? I don’t even bloody like Will and here I am working like a dog, just so that I can look after his horse. For free. In my spare time. What a doughnut. And why I ever thought wearing Elsie’s UGGs was a good idea is beyond me. It's so muddy up here, they’re bloody soaked. She’s going to kill me. I cannot wait to go home and get in the shower. My muscles are so sore and heavy. I don’t get how horse riders don’t look like supermodels. It’s a serious workout.
‘Right,’ Will says, breaking me out of my destructive thoughts, ‘there’s only one more thing to do.’
My heart sinks. I literally cannot do another single thing or I might just die here on the floor. My muscles are screaming in agony every time I move. And I have to work at the pub tonight.
‘Don’t look so horrified,’ he grins. ‘I was just going to ask if you wanted to ride her.’
‘Ride her?’ I look up at the giant horse in apprehension. ‘I don’t know,’ I waver. ‘Maybe you should just ride her today and I’ll do it next time.’
He suddenly turns away from me. ‘I don’t ride her,’ he says sadly. He turns back to face me, his eyes glazing over with some memory.
‘Why not?’ I blurt out. What’s the point of having a horse if you don’t ride it?
I wonder if he had a horrific accident and it's mentally scarred him for life. He doesn’t seem to have any physical scars.
‘I just…I haven’t been able to ride her. Since…since my mum died.’ He looks to the floor, his hand raking through his wayward hair.
Oh God. He looks so forlorn. I want to hug him, but I pull myself back before I become a complete hippie weirdo that walks around hugging people. That’s so far from me. God, am I turning into Elsie? I shiver at the thought.
‘Anyway.’ He shakes his head and runs his hand over the back of his neck. ‘Maybe we should go for a drink. You know, so I can thank you for taking this on.’
Go for a drink? Is he serious?
‘Oh.’
Hasn’t he seen how disgusting I look? I haven’t got a mirror, but it's pretty obvious with my wet UGGs, starting to frizz hair and smudged mascara. He made me cry when I had to pick up the horse poo. God, it was
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