Page 12 of Polo Fever
‘Country air, long walks, nature,’ Mum rattles off. ‘Very healing.’
‘I guess it would be nice to get away and go somewhere a bit more low-key with fewer people around to tut at me in supermarkets,’ I admit, rubbing my forehead as the idea grows more tempting the more I think about it.
‘Who is tutting at you in supermarkets?’ Mum asks before dismissing it with a wave of her hand. ‘Never mind. Message Jasper now and ask whether he’s happy for you to come tomorrow. I can help you pack.’
‘I can pack myself, Mum,’ I insist, picking up my phone, typing out a message to him and pressing send. I put my phone down again. ‘It’s fine. You don’t need to—’
I’m interrupted by my phone vibrating with a reply from him already.
‘Wow. He says my room is ready and waiting. That was quick.’ I glance up to find Mum beaming at me, delighted with the way this has played out. ‘Guess I’m off to Sussex.’
‘Fantastic.’ She inhales deeply. ‘I have a very good feeling about this, Ash.’
Four
The train station for Jasper’s village is so small that I have to move carriages as we draw into the platform because it’s too short to accommodate the entire train. No one else gets off here; it’s just me and my case rattling along the empty platform towards the car park as the train departs. As promised, Jasper is there waiting, leaning on the open door of his Land Rover Defender. He brightens as I approach and his warm smile makes my eyes well up. After facing a barrage of hate online, it’s nice to have someone look happy to see me.
‘Hey, Ash,’ he says, striding over, arms outstretched. ‘Come here.’
He pulls me in for a hug, holding me so tight, I can’t move. Unlike Mum, Jasperisa hug kind of person. He’s tall and broad, built like a rugby player but with the gentlest soul of anyone I’ve ever met. He doesn’t have the deep-auburn hair I landed with, but his is strawberry blonde, the slightest hint of a redhead.
‘How was your journey?’ he asks, releasing me and picking up my case.
‘Fine, thanks,’ I say, trying not to wince as I watch my case of designer clothes and shoes – a perk of being in fashion is, obviously, the freebies that come your way, even if you’re a lowly assistant – being tossed haphazardly into the boot of his car, balancing on a pair of mud-caked wellies.
‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he says, shutting the boot and gesturing to the front passenger seat. ‘Climb on in and let’s go.’
Sliding in next to him, I close the door behind me and put on my seatbelt, exhaling audibly as he turns on the engine. He pulls out of the car park and straight onto a road lined by hedges that separate it from the fields stretching beyond. We get to a crossroads and he indicates, turning his head to look down the road my side and stealing a glance at me.
‘You all right?’ he asks casually as we turn onto a road that is narrower than the one before and with a few more potholes.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Really?’ he checks.
‘Not really. But I am happy to be out of London.’
‘Mum told me what happened,’ he admits, his brow furrowing with anger as he keeps his eyes on the winding road ahead. ‘As in, she told me the truth compared to what the press is saying. It’s not fair what he’s done to you, Ash.’
‘No, it’s not,’ I mutter.
‘Here, you can forget all about thatbastard,’ he says so passionately that I’m forced to look at him in surprise. ‘If he dares to contact you, I’ll let him knowexactlywhat—’
‘He hasn’t got in touch,’ I quickly assure him. ‘I doubt he will.’
‘Good. He can fuck off,’ he spits.
I can’t stop a smile spreading across my face. Jasper notices and frowns.
‘What?’ he says, confused.
‘I’ve never seen you so worked up before. It’s weird. Good weird. But weird.’
‘Yeah, well, it takes a lot to piss me off,’ he admits, ‘but Chris Courtney has gone above and beyond to make it happen. The conceit and entitlement. How does he think he can get away with it?’
‘Because he can,’ I answer simply.
Jasper’s jaw clenches and I turn to look out the window as we pass a field of grazing horses. I smile at the sight, watching their long tails flick as they nibble away at the grass, their coats glossy in the sunshine. I have a thing about horses. Mum says I was obsessed with them as a little kid. It was strange, she says, because I didn’t grow up around horses. It didn’t matter; I loved them anyway.
