Page 41 of A Midlife Gamble

Except a cleaning lady had arrived, taken out a can of industrial cleaner and set about polishing the flowers one by one. And when, confused, Helen had stretched her hand out to the soil, the surface she had met with had been cold and hard. Cement. Coloured brown to look like soil. As fake as everything else.

Tony’s chatter weaved in between her thoughts like a tap left dripping. Her eyes were heavy, but she dragged them open and looked at the back of his head again. He talked without pause, and it was clear to Helen that no one was expected to join what was obviously a soliloquy. On he went, something about the tedium of location work, a snippet ofKnots Landing,which had her vaguely interested. Across the scrubby wasteland that was the outskirts of Vegas, she saw a man exercising a dog and the sight was odd to Helen; until she realised that in the time they had been in Vegas, she hadn’t seen a real person doing a real thing. No one taking the trash out, no one walking dogs, no one sitting on public benches passing the time of day. There were no public benches. Vegas, with its perfect artificial flowers and its cleanly swept pavements, was a mirage. And real life, by contrast, felt to Helen hopelessly messy and imperfect. That was the last thought she had. Unable to resist the weariness of her mind, her eyes slipped closed and by the time the SUV had left the city perimeters, she was asleep.

She was wokenby a dragging sensation. The feeling of rising very slowly to the surface of dark water. Opening her eyes, she realised they had slowed to turn off the highway. The road ahead was unpaved and sure enough, the SUV began to bump and jolt. Helen sat up, tugging her t-shirt smooth over her belly. This at least was a little more cowboy like. She pressed her forehead to the window. Outside, plains of orange stretched away to the Spring Mountain range, but the glass she was looking through was tinted and it wasn’t until the SUV had turned through an arched gateway into the ranch proper… It wasn’t until she opened the door and stepped out, that the true measure of the landscape they were now in became clear.

Everywhere was desert. A lunar-scape of pink and orange and deep rusty reds, pitted all over with boulders and rocks. Some the size of houses, others small enough to hold. Above, a great dome of blue sky arched on and on, parallel wisps of cirrus clouds stretching like a celestial highway thousands of feet above the snow-capped peak of Mount Charleston.

She felt the brush of air on her arms, temperate and warm, and the infinite variety of movement of fresh air. In Vegas, she realised now, even the air was regulated. Outside, it was hemmed in by buildings and left to simmer. Inside, it was artificially cold. But here it was free, carrying with it the dust of the land it had crossed. She could feel it, settling already amongst the fine hairs of her arms, could see it, in the way the Joshua and sagebrush moved. She did a full turn, three hundred and sixty degrees: mountains, sky, desert. Sky, desert, mountains. Behind, the low rustic spread of the ranch and a dog… Another real dog, raising his head to watch them. Wind and space. She breathed in. The ringing in her ears from the thousands of slots had ceased. She could hear the silence. And it was wonderful!

‘Oh the light!’ Kay too had stepped out of the SUV and now Caro, and Marianne, and for a moment they stood, hands raised to foreheads squinting behind sunglasses. Because yes, the light was extraordinary. Like God had determined this part of the world be forever rose-tinted. It was fresh and soft and it felt to Helen as if she’d been dipped in sunrise.

‘And all this is yours?’ Marianne said as she turned to look at the ranch.

Tony beamed. ‘Welcome, ladies,’ he said, ‘to Hidden Valley Ranch. ‘Mi casa ar su casa.'

18

Asomewhat hurried ten-minute tour of the ranch later, Caro, Marianne and Kay stood with chins leaned against the rough-hewn fence of a large corralled area, the same expression of stunned disbelief on their faces. On the other side, tied to a long hitching rail, several horses waited, tails twitching, feet shuffling. Alongside the horses, Helen also waited, listening to the instructions of Gabe, the ranch-hand Tony had just introduced them to.

Glancing sideways first at Marianne, and then at Kay, Caro guessed they were thinking exactly what she was thinking.When, andby whom, were horsesmentioned?

‘We have them for all abilities,’ Tony had said just a moment ago, obviously sensing the reluctance emanating from this side of the fence.

To which Marianne had replied archly, ‘But do you have them for all sizes?’

Remembering this brief exchange, Caro smiled. She slid her hands between her chin and the warm wood. There had been an unmistakable hint of annoyance in Marianne’s voice. That of a woman shown a carnation and told it was a rose. She understood why.No onehad saidanythingabout horses. Not when the ranch was first mentioned, nor on the journey down. Tony had sold them a lazy afternoon walking around the ranch, followed by a campfire barbecue. But horses? It was clear from the expression on Marianne’s face, they weren’t her thing. They weren’t Caro’s either, or Kay’s. In fact, the only one who had been anywhere near enthusiastic was Helen. Just like Tussauds, she’d jumped in, had already been assigned her horse and was now leaning close into its neck, her hand on its flank. Looking, Caro thought, as if she’d spent half her life in a corral full of these giant creatures. She watched now as Helen put her foot in the stirrup and, with help from Gabe, was eased over the horse’s back. She didn’t know what was surprising her most, Helen’s physical courage or the fact that Tony, whom she’d come to such unflattering conclusions about, owned this magnificent place.

‘Well done, Helen,’ Kay called.

Caro nodded. ‘Yes, well done.’ At this rate Helen would be halfway to the Pacific, before anyone else was in the saddle. She was, it was very clear, intent upon maintaining a distance and, right now, Caro didn’t want to think about that. There was something else that she needed to think about first. That needed solving, and if only she could get a little space and time, she would. The spa had meant to offer her that, but her masseuse had talked non-stop, asking question after question about London, without pausing to listen to a single answer. People like that amazed Caro, the kind who went through life blithely unaware of what a conversation was supposed to consist of. There hadn’t been a moment’s peace and she was thinking now about the swing chair on the porch of the ranch. She’d seen it when they had first arrived, and immediately considered that it would be the perfect place, the perfect opportunity, for her to sit and think this proposal from Shook through logically. All the pros… all the cons… Plus, she could feel the heat of the desert sun on her head. Her hair was thinning, another hour exposed like this and her scalp would burn. She needed shade and she needed space. Easing back from the fence, she got ready to excuse herself.

‘Marianne!’ Tony cried, all teeth and arms as he walked towards them. ’You’ll be fine. You're a doll. You should see the size of some of the folks these guys take.’

‘A doll,’ Marianne said archly, ‘who has just had a very expensive manicure.’ She stretched her hand forward to show five polished nails, deep maroon, with a white sequin glued on each.

‘That looks divine.’ Tony winked. His dusty Stetson shadowed his face as he took Marianne’s hand and kissed it.

Moving aside, Caro pulled her sunglasses down. Ranch or not, Tony’s enthusiasm was too oily for her. Still, he wasn’t her problem. She opened her mouth to speak.

’I don’t want to get dirty,’ Marianne said bluntly. ‘You know how much this cost?’ She waved her hand. ‘What if I fall off? What if they break? Seventy dollars of nail, lost in horse-shit. No thank you!’

At this, Kay laughed, and Caro too smiled as she pretended to look away. The more time she spent with Marianne, the more she liked her.

‘Marianne?’ Tony pleaded.

‘No.’ Marianne stood her ground.

He turned to Kay, but she too was shaking her head. ‘I think I’ve pushed my luck far enough today. Quit when you’re winning, you said?’

Tony put his hands on his hips. ‘I did indeed. Well ladies, make yourself at home while we’re gone.' He turned to Caro… who made to scuttle. But there was nowhere to scuttle to. This desert had no corners. One moment, she’d been in the process of a subtly planned retreat, and now… Now she wasn’t.

‘So Miss Caro, come and choose your horse.’

And because she didn’t know what else to do, because she was stalling for time, she eased her sunglasses off her head and rubbed them on a corner of her shirt. When, finally, she looked up, Kay was looking right at her.

‘You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be fine.’

‘Oh I wasn’t… That’s not what…’

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