Back A Cornish Summer
Chapters (36)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Catherine Alliott
  3. Dedication
  4. Chapter 1
  5. Chapter 2
  6. Chapter 3
  7. Chapter 4
  8. Chapter 5
  9. Chapter 6
  10. Chapter 7
  11. Chapter 8
  12. Chapter 9
  13. Chapter 10
  14. Chapter 11
  15. Chapter 12
  16. Chapter 13
  17. Chapter 14
  18. Chapter 15
  19. Chapter 16
  20. Chapter 17
  21. Chapter 18
  22. Chapter 19
  23. Chapter 20
  24. Chapter 21
  25. Chapter 22
  26. Chapter 23
  27. Chapter 24
  28. Chapter 25
  29. Chapter 26
  30. Chapter 27
  31. Chapter 28
  32. Chapter 29
  33. Chapter 30
  34. Chapter 31
  35. Chapter 32
  36. A Message from Catherine

"Always are at the opening meet," agreed Shona, totally at ease now, whilst I was still getting used to him being there. “So it's either right at the front, or right at the back to give them room, don't you think?"

"Front," said Hugo firmly. "Up with people like Babs, Iris and your Mum," he nodded at me. Ridiculously, I flushed. "Just don't go anywhere near my dad; he's over-horsed himself as usual. He'll be off at the first if he's not careful, causing a pile-up. Iris wanted him to ride his old faithful, but he's on that mad Piper."

"He's not!" Shona exclaimed. Piper was a notorious bucker, and we could see Roger even now, in his red coat, on a bunched-up black horse who had his head between his knees and was reversing at speed as Roger swore loudly at him.

"And Mona Hartley is to be given acres of space."

"Oh, we've already spotted her," I told him, finally managing to find my voice. The local hotty — all red lips and peroxide curls just about contained in a hairnet, her vast bosom straining at her skin-tight black coat, buttons fit to ping off, and looking equally likely to be pinged off her enormous dapple gray herself — was beside us.

"Just take him away," murmured Shona, watching. "Walk him quietly about."

“She can't, she wants to stick like glue to Neville the Devil," Hugo told us. We all giggled as, right on cue, the devastatingly handsome local farrier who, with his black curls, hooded eyes and wicked, flashing smile had more than a touch of the dark side about him, rode past on a flashy thoroughbred type, all jingling bit and glistening spurs. He swept his hat off in a debonair gesture as he greeted Mona and murmured something as he passed.

"What did I tell you? It's back to the forge for her later."

"Over the anvil," agreed Shona.

As we snorted, both secretly delighted to be talked to like this, I spotted Hugo's two friends, watching and wondering who he was speaking to. Debating, perhaps, whether to come across. Just then, Saintly Sean cleared his throat. He stood up in his stirrups and beamed around at everyone.

"Could I have your attention, please?" he called.