Belonging

By Gillian Wells

A young woman’s best friend is killed in a horrific accident, which impacts her outlook on life. At the same time, other events happen that lead her on an arduous journey to find the peace and happiness she longs for. She finds herself criss-crossing the world and nearly loses the understanding of her family and those around her. Just when she thinks that she has everything falling into place, she has another bad knock and has to draw on inner strengths that she didn’t know she had.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley
• Release date: Apr 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463957936

Gillian Wells

Gillian is a lovely English lady who lives in rural Queensland with her cattle dog Jess. She has three children living in Australia, France and England and four grandchildren. She loves meeting people and has travelled widely in Australia and is one of Australia's best known and enjoyed authors.Gillian is also the author of over ten additional adult books which include Alone, Belonging, Families, Lost, Returned, Consequences, Travelling, Inheritance, Possession and coming in 2024... Compulsion. The Adventures of Bub and Tub series are Gillian's first children's books to be published with Boots & Scoots being her third children's book.

Book preview

About the Author

Gillian is an English woman living in rural Australia with her husband and cattle dog Jess. She loves writing and also enjoys gardening, cooking, horse-riding and singing amongst other interests. She has travelled widely in Australia, meeting people and hearing their stories.

She has three children and four grandchildren living in England, France and Australia. She loves to spend time with them as much as distances and time allow.

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Dedication

This is for all women who have been physically or mentally abused. May they find happiness in the end.

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Belonging

Published by Austin Macauley at Smashwords

Copyright 2018 Gillian Wells

The right of Gillian Wells to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the

Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All Rights Reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without written permission. No paragraph of this publication may be reproduced, copied or transmitted save with the written permission of the publisher, or in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright Act 1956 (as amended). Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is

Available from the British Library.

www.austinmacauley.com

Belonging, 2018

ISBN 978-1-78710-974-2 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-78710-975-9 (Kindle E-Book)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.

First Published in 2018

AustinMacauley Publishers.LTD/

CGC-33-01, 25 Canada Square

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Acknowledgements

To the Austin Macauley team and my family.

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Chapter 1

Jen groaned and fumbled for her alarm, which was ringing away near her ear, turning it off and putting on her bedside light. She squinted at the clock, 4:30 am. She had only just got into bed, hadn’t she? That is how she felt anyway. Just then, there came a sharp tap on her bedroom door. Are you awake Jen? her father said quietly.

Yes, she mumbled, be there in a tick. Ten minutes later, she walked into the kitchen dressed, with her hair in a loose bun around which was a hairnet.

Peter, her father, had made coffee and was busy eating a bowl of cereal while standing and making toast. It’s a cold morning for this time of the year, so maybe the scent will be good, he said.

Maybe, but we never go very far cubbing, it’s all about teaching the young hounds, Jen said gulping down her coffee.

When they got outside in the predawn darkness, it was indeed cold, and they hurried across the yard to get the horses ready.

Having loaded the horses up, they were pleased to get into the cab of the horsebox and set off for the farm where they were to meet everyone.

Alison didn’t hunt as much as Jen and her father did but would come later when they were packing up to chat and have a hot drink with everyone. Jen’s elder brother Mark hardly hunted at all these days but had got into shooting, which was causing a bit of friction between himself and his father. However, things were gradually settling down and as far as the farm was concerned they were in complete agreement with the running of the business.

Having arrived at the meet, they were greeted by several people that like them were saddling up and getting ready for the morning. It was getting light now with orange streaks across the eastern sky. The hounds poured out of the hound van with lots of noise and excitement. Ned, the huntsman, soon had them in a tight group, then they all set off. The breath from all the horses, hounds and people was making a small fog that seemed to surround them as they went. Peter’s horse Harvey, a big grey horse, was jumping and threatening to buck, all in good fun. Jen’s horse, a bright chestnut Anglo-Arab called Dancer, wasn’t much calmer but refrained from bucking. Everyone’s horse was on its toes as this was the first outing of the season.

Morning Jen, said a voice just behind her, looking around, she saw James, the son of the farmer whose farm they had just started from. Jen didn’t like him much as he made her feel uncomfortable, partly because she always felt that he was mentally undressing her.

Morning, she said and gave Dancer a squeeze with her legs, which made him surge forward and leave James behind.

The first draw where they put the hounds in, was a big sugar beet field and everyone spread out around it while the hounds hunted through the big leaves of the crop. Quite a lot of pheasants got disturbed and flew up but there were no foxes. Soon, they set off for a big wood nearby. Jen wasn’t that keen on this wood as it was very big and it took a long time for the hounds to cover it all. Added to this, when cubbing, everyone stood singly on the edge to keep any fox in the wood, so the young new hounds learnt all about hunting and didn’t get away from the pack.

However, she was able to talk quietly with one or two others that were near her. Her dad wasn’t very close, which was just as well, as he would have told her to keep quiet as one was supposed to do.

They could hear the hounds in the distance, it sounded like they were onto something and they were getting closer. It sounded eerie but exciting all at the same time, as it echoed through the trees. Dancer was living up to his name and jiggling around and was sweating slightly, he knew what was happening. Suddenly, Ned appeared on his horse, blowing his horn. Gone away, he blew. Everybody who hunted knew all the different calls the huntsman made on his horn, as did the hounds.

It looked so beautiful with the huntsman in his vivid coat on his lovely dark horse, the early sun shining through the trees. It was something Jen would always remember.

Come on, said Tim Fisher, the man nearest Jen, we’re off. The horses needed no encouragement and soon, everyone was galloping across the stubble-field, towards the lane where the hounds had gone. It was a mad rush, with many horses excited by their first outing of the season, for some, it was their first time ever and not everyone was in control.

They came to a big ditch, which had been cut out during harvest, so it looked more daunting than it perhaps was. Some people pulled up here to take it steady and have a good look. Jen wasn’t given that option as Dancer, with his bit between his teeth, just flew over it. Jen was half scared and half excited as they went full pelt down a lane. They had to do a sharp left as they landed and quite a few people had come to grief. A shout came from behind though Jen barely heard it, Loose horse, loose horse!

A few moments later, she caught up with the huntsman and the hounds. They were milling around a drain which the fox had gone into. Just then, the loose horse, a rangy bay, came up beside Jen. Using her hunting whip handle, she caught it. Taking hold of its reins, she turned back with the horse to find its owner. Three quarters of the way back up the lane, she saw James on foot, looking rather grubby and very angry. Is this yours? she asked, holding out the reins.

Bloody thing needs a good hiding! snarled James. He raised his whip as if to strike the horse. Jen was near enough so dropping his horse’s reins, she leant over and snatched his whip before he realised what was happening.

What the hell! he shouted.

That will do, another voice said and looking around, Jen saw Nigel Pascoe, the ‘Master of the Hunt’ sitting on his horse and watching them both, as were several others.

Jen threw James’s whip onto the ground near him and smiling sweetly at Nigel, she said, Sorry master, but it wasn’t the poor horse’s fault that James fell off, it happens. It is no good getting cross with the horse.

Agreed Jenny, James apologise to Jenny and let’s get on with the morning, we are going back to the big wood.

James scowled, muttered sorry and getting on his horse, he cantered off down the track. The rest of the time passed peacefully and they called it a day at about 9:30 am. When they got back to the farm, Jen’s mother was waiting with hot sausage rolls and coffee. She had plenty for anyone who wanted to join Jen and her father and quite a few did, including Nigel. He was held in high regard as a fair and kind man who knew the hunt country like the back of his hand and always treated farmers and landowners with great respect. He was also a good horseman and at times, was very bold across country, leaving the followers far behind on some occasions.

They all chatted about their horses and how the hounds went and the weather, it was a happy gathering. As he was leaving, Nigel turned to Jen and said quietly, I would keep out of that young James’s way as much as I could. It’s a blessing he didn’t join us just now, he has a very bad temper, I think.

Jen just nodded. She had known James almost all her life as farming families socialise quite a bit, but she had never felt happy in his company. That evening, Peter asked her what Nigel had said to her quietly on the side. She told him about James falling off and what had happened afterwards. I agree, good thing you are off to university in a few weeks, said her father.

I thought you had agreed that I could have a gap year. I want to travel, said Jen, looking at him with pleading eyes.

Yes, I agreed, you could if you could find someone to travel with and you haven’t managed it yet. Australia is a long way away, especially when you know no one there.

Please Dad, I will be very careful and I am bound to meet up with some other English girls when I get there, please!

Peter looked at his only daughter thoughtfully for a long time then said, Leave it with me, I have an idea but it may not work out.

Jen went to bed shortly after that as it had been a long day. After her shower, she sat in front of her mirror, drying her long, dark brown hair and hoping her dad would come up with something good soon. She had deferred her university place but hadn’t plucked up the courage to tell her parents.

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Chapter 2

The cubbing season drifted into the hunting proper and soon, it was the ‘Opening Meet’, when everyone turns up. As usual, it was at the Pascoe’s house, a big old manor house on the edge of a village, not too far from where Jen and her family lived. There was always a good stirrup cup and lots of rich fruit cake to fortify the field. There were horse boxes and floats everywhere, people, dogs, hounds and small children; not to mention all the mounted followers. It was a cacophony of people talking and laughing, dogs barking, children shouting and hounds baying in excitement. The air was full of the scent of crushed grass and horses, it being a very cold, clear day. Some of the horses that were out were point-to-point horses and not expected to stay out long. They were often badly behaved, being very excitable and some of them would lash out at anyone or anything that came too close.

Jen sighed, looking around her. It was so beautiful and so English, with the lovely, old Elizabethan mellow-brick manor house, the drive and lawns, the hunt followers—some in scarlet jackets—the horses, the camaraderie. She was going to miss it after Christmas. A tingle of excitement passed through her, she was going to Australia.

It was amazing really, she thought, how it had worked out. Peter had spoken to Nigel Pascoe, whose family owned land in Australia, lots of land as it turned out, and he in turn, had talked to Jen at length about herself—what she was good at and what she liked to do. He told her that he may be able to find her a position at one of their cattle stations as a cook cum mothers’ help cum general dogsbody for two to three months. He warned her that it wouldn’t be a picnic and she would have to work hard, but it would be a very good experience for her and not one that just anybody could have. Jen jumped at it. Last week, he had telephoned to say it was all organised and she had immediately booked her flights and applied for her visa.

Hello, young Jen, a jovial voice interrupted her thoughts and looking around, she saw that Bill Searl, James’s father, had come up beside her. She liked Bill, as most people did. He was a big man with a big heart and amongst other things, bred top-class show hunters. James and his father were chalk and cheese as James was tall, very slim and blond like his mother, Lavinia, whereas Bill was medium height, rather rotund and dark. He was also very easy to get along with, although he was an astute business man. It had always been supposed that Lavinia married him for his money. She was a cold, distant woman who seemed to think she was a cut above everyone else even though she came from a modest family.

Hello Bill, that’s a lovely horse you are on, is it one of yours? said Jen.

Yes, out of my best mare. I put her to a Suffolk Punch stallion and I must say, I am pleased with the result. Been offered a shedload of money for her but I reckon, I will enjoy hunting with her for this season anyway, then we will see. Bill patted the chestnut mare’s neck.

Quiet, please! shouted a voice near the front of the crowd, where the hounds were circling the huntsman. Master wants a word before we set off.

Morning everyone, I just want to thank everyone for coming and to remind you all that we couldn’t hunt without the support of the farmers and landowners who allow us on their land, please treat their land and property with respect. If you leave off early, no going across country and taking shortcuts. Please stick to the roads and the bridle paths. I have been advised by the police that the antis are out in force today, please avoid being provoked by them. It is exactly what they want; ignore them as much as possible. Enjoy your day. Thank you.

Everyone clapped politely, then Ned blew his horn and they were all off. Jen caught up with her family as somehow, while dreaming, she had got separated from them at the meet. As it was the opening meet, both her parents and brother were mounted today.

They were soon in the woods belonging to the Pascoe family. They covered several hundred acres altogether but these were spaced out, with some open space between them. There were also some footpaths running through a couple, twisting and turning as they went.

No sooner than the last of the followers had got into the trees than a cry went up, Gone away, gone away! Then, Ned was blowing his horn and everyone set off galloping willy-nilly through the trees. Jen and her family never worried about each other while the hounds were running as they had themselves to watch out for. Dashing full pelt through the trees or out in the open with big ditches or fences to jump, it was every man for himself. Even more so with so many people out, it was a mad ride. Along the tracks in the wood, everyone jostled for space while going full gallop, their blood was up. It was so exciting, not knowing what would happen next.

Jen and her family were all bold riders and soon found themselves well up the front behind Master Pascoe. It wasn’t done to pass him! They came to an enormous ditch at the edge of the wood, over went Master, then Jen’s dad Peter, then her mother, then Bill Searl. It was a narrow spot, so everyone had to take it in turns. Dancer was fighting Jen to go and so was Mark’s horse Bluey. In the end, they took off together, side by side and both nearly came to grief as they bumped into each other on landing. What are you doing, sis? said Mark grinning at her, Trying to beat me, I can out-run you.

We will see about that! shouted Jen as she galloped off after the others. The track was very muddy and it wasn’t long before they were all covered in mud but the pace was fast and furious and ditch after ditch. A few logs and fences came and went in a mad whirl of sensations. The wind was in their faces, making it hard to see clearly as their eyes were watering. There was mud, the horses pulling and galloping along and the noise of many hooves and the odd exclamation and in front, the baying of the hounds. They came to a hill and they could see the hounds moving as one, up the hill against the green crop, they looked like a large white handkerchief moving across the field. They came to a farmyard and here, the hounds had come to a stop, as the fox had gone into a large barn full of hay bales.

We’ll have to give him the best, Master, said Ned to Nigel Pascoe. They were all glad to take a breather as the horses were breathing hard, it had been a long, very fast hunt.

Jen soon found out that Dancer was slightly lame and leaning down, she could see that he had pulled a front shoe off.

Damn, I will have to take him home, she called out to Mark.

OK, I’ll let Mum and Dad know. They were across the other side of the farmyard, talking to the farmer.

Thanks, Mark, I think I will hack straight home as it is actually nearer than the meet, said Jen and rather sadly, turned for home. More and more people were arriving at the farmyard; as many had been left far behind, and she greeted many and chatted to them before she finally set off slowly. Dancer was happy enough to potter along, in no hurry.

Jen saw some antis up ahead but they were running across the fields, trying to catch up with the hounds who had now moved further off. She took a bridle path, which she knew would nearly take her to the start of their land, about five miles away.

About twenty minutes into her journey, a group of antis wearing hoodies and with their faces covered with scarves suddenly appeared in front of her.

Hello, we’ve got one of the scum here, one called out to the others. Let’s have some fun with this girl murderer. He grabbed hold of Dancer’s reins. Dancer didn’t like this and lunged back but the guy held on tightly.

Jen was, by now, very frightened as she knew that some of the anti-brigade were really rent-a-mob and were ready to do nearly anything that they felt like. Just recently, they had desecrated the grave of a well-known hunting man and had done other horrid things.

One of them got hold of her foot as if to tip her off when there was a thundering of horse’s hooves and a shout. They all scattered as a figure on a horse rushed up behind Jen with a whip cracking like mad. Barely having time to take in what was happening, Jen found herself