A Breath of Fresh Air: A BRAND NEW beautiful, uplifting romantic read from MILLION COPY BESTSELLER Jessica Redland for 2024

By Jessica Redland

The BRAND NEW uplifting novel from MILLION-COPY BESTSELLER Jessica Redland

Rosie feels like there's something missing in her life.

She loves her job as the manager of Willowdale Hall Riding Stables, caring for the horses and teaching children to ride, and she loves the home she shares with her mother in the beautiful Lake District. But she can't help wondering how her life might look if things had been different. What if her father had been around to help care for her mother? And what if she'd found someone special herself?

When Hubert Cranleigh - the owner of Willowdale Hall - is taken ill, his son Oliver steps into the breach. Brooding and distant, Rosie is furious when he claims not to know who she is. Especially when they have a history.

Rosie's life is about to be turned upside down, but with the New Year comes new opportunities. What Rosie feels is missing from her life might be closer than she thinks, and with more significant consequences than she could ever have imagined...

Take a breath of fresh air and escape to the Lake District with million-copy bestseller Jessica Redland, for an uplifting story of family, friendship and love.

Praise for Jessica Redland:

'Jessica Redland writes from the heart, with heart, about heart' Nicola May

'A heartwarming story of true friendship, love and romance set in the gorgeous backdrop of the Lakes. A cosy hug of a read that left me feeling warm inside.’ Julie Caplin on The Start of Something Wonderful

'A heartwarming story set in a beautiful location... Love, friendship and the power of letting go are all covered in this gorgeous, beautifully written story.' Katie Ginger on The Start of Something Wonderful

'I loved my trip to Hedgehog Hollow. An emotional read, full of twists and turns' Heidi Swain

'The Hedgehog Hollow series is a tonic I'd recommend for everyone. There is so much to make you smile in Jessica's stories and they are always uplifting reads, which will make you really glad you decided to pick up a copy.' Jo Bartlett

‘An emotional, romantic and ultimately uplifting read. Jessica always touches my heart with her sensitive handling of difficult subjects. The gorgeous community she has built around Hedgehog Hollow is one I hope to visit again and again.’ Sarah Bennett

'A beautifully written series that offers the ultimate in heartwarming escapism.' Samantha Tonge on the Hedgehog Hollow series

'Hedgehog Hollow is a wonderful series that has found a special place of its own deep in the hearts of readers, including mine.' Jennifer Bohnet

'A warm hug of a book. I never wanted to leave Hedgehog Hollow.' Della Galton

'A heart-warming ride that navigates broken hearts and painful secrets, but ultimately restores your faith in the power of love. I adored it.' Jenni Keer

'I fell in love with this story from page one.' Helen Rolfe

'A tender love story, full of sweet touches and beautiful characters.' Beth Moran

'A warm-hearted and beautiful book. Jessica Redland doesn’t shy away from the fact that life can be difficult, but she reminds us that we all can find love, hope and joy again.' Sian O'Gorman

'Achingly poignant, yet full of hope' Sandy Barker

'An emotional but uplifting page turner. A beautiful story of friendship and love' Fay Keenan

• Language: English
• Publisher: Boldwood Books
• Release date: Jan 10, 2024
• ISBN: 9781801624978

Jessica Redland

Jessica Redland is the million-copy bestselling author of novels, including the Hedgehog Hollow and Escape to the Lakes series. Inspired by her hometown of Scarborough and the Lake District, she writes uplifting women’s fiction of love, friendship and community.

Book preview

1

‘Are you ready for the last question of the final quiz of the year?’ Arnie asked, looking round the packed pub four days before Christmas. He cupped his hand round his ear and raised his eyebrows. ‘I can’t hear you! I said are you ready for the last question of the final quiz of the year?’

There was a collective cheer from the quizzers and a few good-natured heckles of, ‘Get on with it!’

I smiled at my best friend Autumn and her partner Dane across the table from me. We loved it when sixty-something Arnie bantered with the quizzers. He had a huge personality and a voice just as big, befitting his role as landlord and quiz master at The Hardy Herdwick’s Thursday night quiz.

‘I’m going to play the start of a huge hit from the early eighties,’ he called. ‘Before you start scribbling, I won’t be asking you to name the song and artist. I’ll give you the question after I’ve played it.’

The familiar electronic drumbeats of Ultravox’s ‘Vienna’ filled the pub, stopping before Midge Ure’s vocals kicked in. It was from before my time but most of Mam’s teenage years had been in the eighties and she was obsessed with music and films from that decade, turning me into a fan too.

‘I’m sure most of you will have recognised that track,’ Arnie said. ‘It never hit the top of the UK charts, staying at the number two position for four weeks. John Lennon’s Woman held the number one spot for the first week, but a different track was number one for a further three weeks. I want you to name that song and artist.’

‘I’m so pants at the music round,’ said Maya, shaking her head. She was Dane’s cousin and, along with her fiancé Jonah, the five of us had been regulars at the quiz since May, after Autumn and Dane had fully settled into Cotton-tail’s Cottage – the home they rented round the corner from the pub.

‘That was Vienna, right?’ Autumn whispered, looking at me for confirmation.

I nodded and pulled the answer sheet towards me, scribbling down:

‘Shaddap You Face’ by Joe Dolce Music Theatre

‘Is that a real song, Rosie?’ Jonah asked, raising his eyes doubtfully.

‘I promise it is, but don’t ask me to sing it for you.’

‘I’d completely forgotten about that track,’ Autumn’s dad Darius said. He and her mam, Claudette, had arrived in Willowdale last night and were staying for Christmas, returning to their home in Paris just before New Year.

‘I remember watching him on Top of the Pops.’ Darius looked at Claudette. ‘I don’t know if the song was big in France.’

‘Not by that man but, if I have the right song, Sheila did a version – "Et ne la ramène pas".’

Claudette softly hummed the tune and it was definitely the same one.

‘Time’s up!’ Arnie bellowed. ‘Bring your quiz sheets to me for marking and, as usual, I’ll run through the answers before I announce the results. With their extended team size, could The Numpties finally move up the league table?’

That triggered friendly laughter and a cry of ‘No chance!’

We were ‘The Numpties’. We’d come up with the team name after our abysmal first attempt and it had proved apt as typically we came second or third from last each week, but Darius and Claudette had brought a little something extra along tonight, so I was hopeful that Arnie was right and we might edge towards the middle of the leader board just this once.

Dane indicated the almost-empty glasses on the table. ‘Another round?’

Everyone was ready for a fresh drink, so Autumn said she’d help him carry them. As they queued at the bar, Dane laughed at something Autumn said, then placed his hands on her hips and drew her into a brief kiss. Afterwards, the look he gave her was so full of love that I unintentionally released a soft sigh. I swiftly looked around me to make sure nobody had noticed, but Maya was busy dabbing a tissue against Jonah’s shirt where he’d spilt his drink, laughing at him for missing his mouth, while Darius and Claudette quietly sang along to ‘Shaddap You Face’ in English and French respectively, smiling at each other.

All three couples were at different stages in their relationships – Autumn’s parents had celebrated their ruby wedding anniversary in September, childhood sweethearts Maya and Jonah were planning their wedding, and Autumn and Dane had only been together since early April – but all of them were so happy. It was lovely to see and I’d never felt like a gooseberry at the quiz before but, right now, I felt very aware of my single status and tears unexpectedly pricked my eyes.

I excused myself and headed to the toilets, glad to see there was a cubicle free. Putting the toilet lid down, I sank down onto it and, with my palms pressed on my thighs, took several deep breaths as I forced back the tears. Where had they come from? I’d never been a crier. Even as a baby, Mam said my cries had been more like whimpers and she’d joked that I must have known she was a struggling single mum and decided not to give her a hard time of it. There were only two occasions in my life when I’d properly broken down – when Mam was badly injured in a hit and run when I was fourteen, and then again when I was seventeen and a certain person I preferred not to give any headspace to broke my heart.

I released a heavy sigh as his face infiltrated my thoughts. I hated it when that happened, especially as it seemed to be occurring with alarming regularity lately. That man didn’t deserve to live in my head or my heart. Aside from him, there’d only been one other man who’d ever meant something to me – Tiago. He’d been one of the gardeners working on the grounds at Willowdale Hall in the spring nearly six years ago, but the universe had had other plans for us. A family tragedy meant he’d needed to return to Portugal after only four months together, rendering our relationship over.

I hadn’t dated anyone since Tiago and I’d really thought I was fine with that but, lately, I wasn’t so sure. I’d always lived my life with a what will be will be attitude, where everything happened the way it was meant to, but the problem was that nothing seemed to happen to me. My fault, of course. I never went anywhere or met anyone. Until Autumn came to stay in the spring, I hadn’t realised quite how much of a recluse I’d become. My job as the manager of Willowdale Hall Riding School and Equestrian Centre kept me busy five-and-a-half days a week. My Sunday afternoon and Monday off had typically been spent with Mam pottering round Horseshoe Cottage – our home in the grounds of Willowdale Hall – or taking our springer spaniel Toffee on walks round the estate together. For longer walks, it was me on my own because, since the hit and run over twenty years ago, Mam had barely left the safety of the estate.

The situation with Mam was another reason why I hardly ever cried because, if I opened the floodgates to the unfairness of what had happened to her, I’m not sure I’d be able to close them again. Better to keep the tears at bay.

‘You’ve got this,’ I whispered to myself. I didn’t need a man in my life. Too messy, too complicated, too upsetting. Life was good right now without one. Thanks to Autumn settling here, I was slowly building a social life in Willowdale.

I had no plans to travel. The Lake District was such a stunning part of the world that I didn’t feel the pull to explore anywhere else, which was just as well because there was no way I could leave Mam on her own. I spent lots of time with Autumn and Dane and it was so good to have friends. Autumn had been my penpal since I was eleven, but nothing beat having my best friend around in person.

The door to the toilets opened, bringing a blast of music and chatter from the pub, which faded when the door closed. I rolled my shoulders a couple of times, took another deep breath and flushed the unused toilet.

While washing my hands, I checked my reflection in the mirror to make sure my eyes weren’t red, but I’d got control of the tears in time and there were no tell-tale signs. I nodded at myself. You’ve got this! Everything is exactly how it should be.

2

I returned to our table feeling positive. Autumn brought a couple of drinks over while Dane was still at the bar and smiled at me as she handed me mine. I’d obviously recovered well from my wobble as she’d have noticed if I looked upset.

‘Are you and your mum all set for Christmas?’ Darius asked me.

‘Nearly. Riding lessons are finished until the third of January, although we’ve got the big New Year’s Day ride, which is always hectic. I need to nip into Keswick tomorrow for a couple more presents and brave the food shop over the weekend, but that’s it. I presume you’re all sorted?’

‘Claudette wants to nip into Keswick tomorrow too – might bump into you – but it’s a bit more relaxing when someone else is on Christmas dinner duty. Thanks again for inviting us over on Monday night, by the way. It’ll be good to see Alice.’

When Autumn had moved out of Horseshoe Cottage and in with Dane, Mam had arranged a goodbye meal and had invited Darius and Claudette to join us virtually via a video link. They’d been eager to meet Mam in person the first time they stayed in Willowdale and had caught up with her every time since. It meant so much to me – and to her – as never leaving the estate wasn’t conducive to building friendships and I did worry about her being lonely, despite her repeated assurances that she was happy in her own company.

‘All right, folks!’ Arnie shouted. ‘Are you ready for the answers?’

Loud cheering and hands banging on the tables answered that for him and he raced through the answers to the music round.

‘The final song I played was indeed Vienna by Ultravox which, in one of the biggest pop travesties of all time, was kept off the UK number one spot for three weeks by…?’

He raised his hands, indicating that we should shout out the answer. Hearing a pub full of people shouting ‘Shaddap You Face’ in fairly dire Italian accents firmly pushed aside the dark cloud that had momentarily hovered over me.

‘Only one team got the song title and the artist name spot on,’ Arnie called. ‘Congratulations to The Numpties who, let’s face it, usually need all the points they can get.’

Everyone laughed affectionately and the team congratulated me for my pop music knowledge.

‘Completely down to Mam,’ I insisted. ‘I’d never have known otherwise.’

‘I’ll announce the scores,’ Arnie continued, ‘and then we’re going to do something a bit different. Because it’s only four days till Christmas, we absolutely need a sing-along and I bet you can guess the song we’re going to sing along to.’

‘Shaddap You Face!’ called several quizzers.

‘I will not!’ Arnie responded, looking delighted that they’d taken the bait. ‘So, onto the scores…’

There were fifteen teams tonight – way more than usual – so it was even more impressive that we came fourth.

‘I feel like that’s a win considering the number of teams,’ Dane said and we clinked our glasses in agreement with him.

After the top three teams were announced, Arnie demanded we all get on our feet and sing along to the chorus of ‘Shaddap You Face’, punching our fists in the air as we shouted the ‘hey!’ at the end of each line. I looked around at the fairy lights and tinsel strewn across the optics, the shiny garlands hanging from the ceiling and the Christmas tree covered in sheep-themed decorations as a nod to the pub name. Taking in the laughing faces, a feeling of contentment settled on me. I wasn’t sure what that little wobble earlier had been all about, but life was good and I was looking forward to a relaxing Christmas with Mam and Toffee.

‘We’d better head off,’ Maya said, pulling on her coat after the singing ended. ‘Last day of term tomorrow and I need my sleep.’

Maya was a maths teacher at my former senior school, Derwent Fells. There were hugs all round and wishes for a happy Christmas. And then there were five.

‘That was so much fun,’ Claudette said as we settled back into our chairs. ‘My first ever pub quiz.’

‘I don’t think I’ve done one since my student days,’ Darius added.

‘You’ll have to tag a Thursday onto all your future weekend visits,’ Autumn said. ‘And not just so we do better. I like you staying longer.’

Darius, who was sitting beside Autumn, gave her a big hug and, for the second time this evening, I felt a pang, but for a different reason. This one was about family, or lack of it. Autumn had such a fantastic relationship with both of her parents and had lived with her paternal grandparents. Some people had huge extended families like Dane, others like Autumn had small but close families, and then there was me. No dad, no siblings, no grandparents, no aunties, uncles or cousins – just Mam and me.

I knew I was fortunate as I had an amazing relationship with Mam. She was easy to live and work with, great fun and a good friend. I was full of admiration for her for bringing me up completely on her own with no family to support her, but I sometimes wondered if things would have been different if it hadn’t just been the two of us.

My father wasn’t the only absence in our lives. Mam’s parents had thrown her out when they discovered she was pregnant and had never even met me. I used to imagine what it would have been like to have grandparents, especially knowing how important Autumn’s had been to her, but Mam’s parents hadn’t sounded like the doting sort so, even if they hadn’t been estranged, I doubt we’d have been close.

I loved the life Mam and I shared, but it hadn’t been without its challenges since the accident. It had taken a lot of years for her to recover physically and, even now, she occasionally limped if she was really tired or anxious, but she hadn’t recovered mentally. She experienced what I was convinced were PTSD episodes, but she’d never had an official diagnosis because she wouldn’t leave the estate to see an expert. It had been really tough seeing her like that when I was in my teens, stepping up as the adult when I still felt like a child myself. I’d done my best, but I feared it hadn’t been enough. After each episode, I always found myself wondering what it would have been like to have a dad around to take the lead. Would things have been different? Would he have been able to convince Mam to get the professional help she so clearly needed? If she’d got that support, would she have found the courage to leave the grounds of Willowdale Hall? How would life look now for both of us?

For so long I’d blamed my single status on him for breaking my heart and making me not want to take a chance on love again, but I couldn’t deny that the situation with Mam was a barrier too. Holidays or weekends away were out of the question and, further down the line, there was no way I could move out and leave Mam on her own, which I couldn’t imagine many boyfriends accepting. Staying at Willowdale Hall was clearly what the universe had planned for me and it wasn’t a bad life at all. I loved the cottage, the grounds, the horses and my job. I just wished my boss, Hubert Cranleigh, was a little easier to work with and that he’d invest some TLC into the estate because it broke my heart to see the beautiful hall, cottages and grounds deteriorating. Willowdale Hall could be incredible, if he’d let it.

Claudette’s phone rang, cutting through my thoughts. She apologised and headed outside as she answered it. Autumn went to the bar to buy some crisps while Dane nipped to the gents, leaving me alone with Darius.

‘Everything okay, Rosie?’ he asked, looking at me with a concerned expression. ‘You looked like you were in a different world just now.’

I gave him a big smile, not wanting to worry him unnecessarily. ‘Drifted off for a moment there, but all’s well. Bit tired. I’m ready for a break.’

‘I feel that way every Christmas,’ he said. ‘Claudette and I both love our jobs but we’re definitely ready for retirement next year. We’ve done our time and now we want to travel and see more of the world as well as spend more time with Autumn. Retirement for both of us comes at the ideal time now that she’s happy and settled.’

Autumn returned with several packets of crisps, which she dropped onto the table, and I reached for my favourites – salt and vinegar. I’d opened the packet and had just shoved the first crisp into my mouth when Claudette reappeared, shaking out her arms and slicking her wet hair back from her face.

My stomach sank. ‘Is it raining?’

‘Yes, and it’s very heavy.’

We weren’t by a window, so I twisted round to see the rain pelting against the front of the pub, the noise drowned out by the music, laughter and chatter.

‘Damn!’ I jumped up and grabbed my coat. Torrential rain hadn’t been forecast for another hour, by which time Mam would have been fast asleep. ‘I’d better get home. I’ll call you tomorrow, Autumn. Bye, everyone.’

I pulled on my coat and dashed towards the door. Outside, I zipped myself up, flipped up my hood and set off through the village. I tried to dodge as many puddles as I could, but the rain was soon soaking uncomfortably up my jeans. I counted my blessings that the rain was hitting my back rather than my face as I hurried towards Willowdale Hall. As I passed the village green and marched along the path running parallel to Derwent Water, the intensity of the rain increased and my stomach sank. This was it. This was the sort of torrential rain which often triggered Mam, taking her back to the day when she was hit by an unknown vehicle and left badly injured in the road. If it hadn’t been for a passing cyclist finding her, another vehicle could so easily have struck her and she wouldn’t be here today.

By the time I reached Horseshoe Cottage, I was gasping for breath and had a stitch in my side. The kitchen light was on. I paused at the end of the drive, trying to regulate my breathing before I went inside.

‘Hi, Mam, I’m home!’ I called out cheerfully as I pushed open the door, stepped into the entrance hall beside the kitchen and hung my wet coat up.

If Toffee had appeared to greet me, I’d have known that all was well, but her absence confirmed that Mam was having an episode.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself into taking-control mode and stepped into the kitchen. Mam was sitting at the wooden kitchen table, wringing her hands and rocking back and forth in her chair. Toffee was beside her, her head resting in Mam’s lap in an attempt to comfort her. Toffee wasn’t an assistance dog but there were so many occasions when she acted as though she was. I’d never known an animal so sensitive and empathetic and I was eternally grateful for the comfort and reassurance she gave to Mam.

‘It’s miserable out there,’ I said, reaching for the pull cord on the blinds. I closed them and instructed the smart speaker to play Mam’s favourite radio station dedicated to eighties music. If she couldn’t see or hear the rain, the episode would hopefully pass soon.

‘Cup of tea?’ I asked. Acting ‘normal’ and refocusing Mam onto an everyday task like having a drink was always my first tactic. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. ‘Or would you prefer a hot chocolate?’

Mam seemed to notice me for the first time. She frowned and cocked her head to one side. ‘Where’s the green man gone?’

I pulled out the chair adjacent to her. ‘I don’t know, Mam,’ I said gently. ‘I haven’t seen him. What does he look like? Can you tell me more about him?’

How many times had I asked those same questions?

Mam shrugged. ‘He’s green.’

‘Is there anything else you remember about him? Big? Small?’

‘Green.’

Even though she never could seem to tell me more about him, I had to keep trying. I’d gone down the route before of saying I had seen the green man but it distressed Mam too much, so I’d learned to stick with the denial. I’d also asked her about the ‘green man’ outside of an episode, but she didn’t know what I was talking about.

‘Tea? Hot chocolate?’ I prompted.

No response.

‘It’s all right, Mam. I’m here and so’s Toffee. Can you feel her? Her head’s in your lap.’

Mam glanced down and smiled gently. ‘Hi, Toffee. Who’s a good girl?’

The tension eased from me. Mam was back in the room.

‘Oh, Rosie!’ she exclaimed, looking surprised to see me. ‘When did you get back?’

‘A couple of minutes ago. We came fourth in the quiz.’

‘That’s wonderful. Was that Darius and Claudette’s influence?’

‘We think so. But you’d be proud of me because one of the questions was, other than John Lennon, who kept Vienna off the number one slot and we were the only team to say it was Joe Dolce Music Theatre rather than just Joe Dolce.’

Mam’s smile widened. ‘So proud. Gosh, that song’s awful. It’s going to be my earworm while I’m trying to sleep tonight.’

‘Sorry!’ I said, jokingly. Most of the time, Mam was aware that she’d had an episode but when she seemed oblivious like now, I preferred not to make an issue of it. What good would it do anyone?

Mam rose from her chair. ‘Speaking of bed, I’m beat. I’ll see you in the morning, love.’ She gave me a hug before saying goodnight to Toffee.

Toffee followed her to the door between the kitchen and lounge and watched her for a moment. I knelt down beside the dog, stroking her reddish-gold ears.

‘She’s all right,’ I murmured. ‘Thanks for looking after her again. I think that’s earned you a biscuit, hasn’t it?’

Toffee’s ears pricked up at one of her favourite words and she settled onto her back legs, waiting patiently while I removed a couple of dog biscuits from the canister on the window ledge.

As she ate, I sat down wearily at the table with my head in my hands. It had been a fairly short episode – or at least the part I caught had been – but my heart still broke for Mam every time. What had happened to her was so unfair.

Even though the accident had been nothing to do with me, I felt guilty. Should I have spoken up sooner about the after-effects? Fear had stopped me. What if they took Mam away? What if Hubert Cranleigh went back on his promise to keep the stables manager job open for me for when I finished school and we ended up without our home and livelihood? So I stayed quiet and hoped these strange little incidents where Mam went into a trance and started talking about green men would go away.

But they never had.

The track on the radio changed to ‘Don’t Give Up’ by Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush. If ever there was a song that pushed all my emotional buttons, this was it. Their hauntingly beautiful voices got to me every time. In addition to her episodes, Mam had experienced a few meltdowns about her situation, feeling like she was dragging me down, telling me I’d be better off without her. So often, I’d held her and begged her, ‘Don’t give up,’ and reminded her of all the positives she had in her life, just like in the song.

A tear splashed onto the table and I rubbed my hand over it and sat up straight. I wasn’t going to crumble. I’d coped with this for over twenty years and I could continue to cope. I was just feeling a bit emotional now because I was tired, Christmas was approaching, I’d had a couple of moments of melancholy in the pub and that song was playing.

I pushed the chair back and wiped my cheeks. I’d often told Mam not to give up and I was going to take that advice. I had friends, I wasn’t beaten and it was going to be good.

3

On Boxing Day morning, I switched the light off, crept down the stairs from my bedroom – the attic conversion in Horseshoe Cottage – and glanced down the hall to where Mam’s bedroom door was ajar. In the warm glow from the nightlight, I could just make out the shape of her body beneath the duvet. She was a heavy sleeper so I didn’t really need to tread quietly but I felt like it was the considerate thing to do when I rose at 5 a.m. each day to tend to the horses.

In the lounge, Toffee raised her head from her dog bed beside the fireplace, her tail thumping on the cushion.

‘Good morning, Toffee,’ I whispered, crouching down to stroke her ears. ‘You go back to sleep.’

Ignoring my suggestion, she stretched and followed me into the kitchen.

‘Seeing as you’re awake, do you want to come to the stables with me this morning?’ I asked, popping the kettle on to boil.

The question was met with more tail-wagging enthusiasm. Most mornings Toffee went back to sleep but occasionally she joined me while I mucked out, particularly if she hadn’t had quite as much exercise as usual the day before. Yesterday, Mam and I had only managed to get out for a short morning walk on the estate before preparing for our evening with Autumn, Dane, Claudette and Darius.

The kettle clicked off and I made a flask of coffee. Toffee followed me to the door, waiting patiently as I slipped my feet into my boots and pulled my work coat on.

‘Come on, then. Let’s go!’

There was no need to grab her lead. The estate was enclosed and private and Toffee had excellent recall.

As I stepped outside, I activated the torch on my phone to illuminate the way as there weren’t any lamp posts in the grounds. Even though I was wearing thick socks and boots, I preferred to avoid the muddy puddles in the lane, left from several downpours in the lead-up to Christmas. Thankfully none of them had been as torrential as Thursday’s, so Mam hadn’t had further episodes.

The temperature had dropped massively overnight and heavy frost crunched beneath my feet, so it didn’t surprise me to see that the puddles had frozen over. Toffee ran her nose along the ice.

‘I hope your nose doesn’t stick,’ I said, my breath hanging in the air.

The security lights in the yard lit up when I arrived at the stables a few minutes later.

Hubert Cranleigh had invested heavily in the riding stables. We had a large American barn – a type of stables where the stalls face each other down either side of the barn across a wide central aisle. There were separate rooms for tack, food and bedding, a kitchenette, toilets and a small office.

I switched on the lights in the barn and took a moment to breathe in the scent – a mix of leather, the horses themselves and the woodiness of the bedding. We used shredded wood fibre rather than straw. Made from especially selected recycled wood, it was one of the greenest solutions as well as being easy to manage, having low dust levels, high absorbency, and generating less waste than straw.

Several heads turned in my direction and I made my way down one side of the barn and back up the other, greeting each horse and pony by name and giving them a face stroke if they were standing. A few were lying down in a deep sleep.

Leaf, a beautiful chestnut mare, whinnied and I gave her a scratch behind the ears.

‘Did you have a good sleep, Leaf?’ I asked her.

She gave another whinny and dipped her head up and down as though answering my question.

‘Autumn’s coming over for her riding lesson shortly, so you’ll get some exercise soon.’

Autumn was learning to ride on Leaf, conquering her fear of horses. She’d said she didn’t mind skipping her lesson with the stables being officially closed for Christmas, but I’d told her she’d be doing me a favour as I needed to exercise the horses anyway and her being here knocked one off my list. Mam would join me after that and, between us, we’d exercise the rest of them in the indoor manège.

After I’d mucked out five of the stables, I paused for a coffee. Wrapping my hands round the cup, I took it over to the entrance and slid the