The trail is lovely, the winter sun streaming through the trees, their naked boughs casting an intricate tracery of light and shade.

But I’m in no mood to enjoy it. Charlie stamps and judders under me, tossing her head. I pull back on the reins. “I don't know what's wrong with her today.”

My Master is cool. “It’s not the horse, Charlotte, but the rider. You're in a mood and Charlie's picking up your mood. You’re perching in the saddle as though you’re the one about to bolt. And if you jerk the reins like that again, I’ll take them from you. Charlie doesn’t deserve to be the butt of your temper.”

He’s right…

But so what?

Clicking my tongue, I urge Charlie forward and she breaks into a trot, but her eyes roll back at me…

“Charlotte...”

… I urge on my mount. The air is fresh on my skin. The sun shimmers and dances to the leaf-littered ground. But nothing dispels the clouds in my head.

“Charlotte!” My Master’s voice snaps like a whip. With a thunder of hooves, Oliver pulls up beside me and my Master reaches across, snatching at Charlie’s bridle. “You may be angry with me, but you will not ignore me.”

He wrenches the reins from my hands then leads me, with Charlie, to a tree, looping the reins over a branch. Swinging a long leg over his saddle he dismounts then snaps a gesture to the ground. “Down!”

My throat dry, I obey. My Master reaches, catching me as my feet touch turf, then pushing me backward, my spine pressed flat against a tree trunk.

His face close to mine, he hisses at me, “I am trying to be fair to both you and Georgie. And both of you are giving me a hard time. I'm caught between a rock and a hard place here, Charlotte. And I don't care for it. You are treating me as though I have done something I should apologise for, and I do not believe, or accept, I have done anything to deserve that.”

I have nothing to say.

*****

Michael

The pair blow in through the door, in theory, together.

James stalks in, face reddened. Charlotte follows and, without a word or a smile, disappears into the kitchen.

I watch her scuttle away, then catch James by the arm. “What’s going on?”

James swipes a hand through his hair, blows air through puffed cheeks. “Georgie.” Then spinning, face set, he strides out again. The door slams closed behind him.

This has gone on long enough…

I hover by the window, listening for the crunch of footsteps on gravel to fade, then head for the kitchen where Charlotte is taking one of Cara’s feed bottles from the fridge.

eyes flick to mine and then back to the bottle.

Hi me. What d’you think you’re up

and as she puts the bottle into the microwave, she keeps her face turned away. Even side-on, the flush

talking about. I don’t think James deserves to be upset like this. And certainly not by

she doesn’t look at me… “… Into the house. Why would I want her

home too. And Georgie is his daughter. His other

do with me before,” she mutters. “Or with Cara. Or with him. Why should I make her welcome here? I don’t even know why he wants her here.

to slide away but I lay hands on the worktop either side of her, caging her between my arms. It’s not often I get heavy with

the disgust out of my voice. “I have to say, Charlotte,

mid-air. “… James has been grieving over losing Georgie for as long as I've known him. And now, just when he has the perfect opportunity to make up with her again, you behave like this. It’s petty

time, when she saw I was pregnant, she was

is that every word Charlotte says

it’s not the point

to you, but…” I press the end of a finger to her chin. “…she had just discovered her father's

you’re

chin juts and her lips press

away, releasing her.

the fuck to deal

?

let me…” It’s Mitch, cradling

from mother to daughter.

Cara, displaying her. “Jenny, listen to me…” Charlotte’s face is still

At least she’s listening…

girl gurgles and chuckles. “It

Charlotte’s jaw drops. “Mom…”

mine does

it should be….” Mitch moves closer and, in her embrace, Cara burbles

flaps. “Mom, I

away, not wanting to

same core of steel as her

your back was against the wall. If you had no

her eyes glossy. “Cara,” she

course you would…” Mitch smiles... “… And that’s as it should be. Cara is your child and you would do anything for her, just as I would for you. But think…” Cara supported in one arm, she strokes Charlotte’s cheek, tucks a lock of hair behind an ear, “…

imperceptibly, Charlotte is trembling.

of your own, you are robbed of your child? You daughter.

eyes grow ever

chance to have her back comes, wouldn’t

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