Page 48 of Slayer

“I'll ask. Trust me, if she doesn't, she'll make you some.”

Porter trots off to the bathroom while I use the landline phone. It doesn't make external calls anymore, like phones did in Dad's day, they are quirky and as fun to use as the intercom.

I call down to Gladys who delights in telling me not only how much my treasure loved her muffins, but that she has some of the chocolate cakes leftover. How could I be annoyed with her showing Porter the dance studio after that kind of connection.

“Guess what.” I pounce at my boy as he leaves the bathroom, his borrowed pyjamas in my hand. He gives a soft yelp and steps back with a surprised look on his face. “We have muffins.”

Porter grins and then his hand slowly reaches for the sleep trousers I'm offering.

“I thought we could sit on the balcony, But it's a bit dark and miserable today. However, there is no need to sit out there when the window seat will do.”

“OK,” Porter responds and steps to the side so I can enter the bathroom. When I come back out I walk to the wardrobe and grab a pair of bottoms for myself. I turn around when I hear Porter start talking again.

“Oh, my goodness?” Porter stands topless at the window, his eyes staring out at the mist rolling across my pastures. “Is that deer?”

“They come quite close to the house this early.” I confirm, but my gaze is on his body. How can one person be so skinny, yet so defined. It suits him perfectly.

“Let's sit here.”

Instead of sitting as directed, Porter turns to the ding of the dumb waiter arriving.

“Go on then.” I give him permission to fetch the breakfast.

Fresh and warm croissants daily would wreck our unique but well-loved forms but make a great treat. I pour the tea while Porter sets out the food. Eating in my bedroom has never felt more sophisticated.

“Look, there are more deer.” Porter bounces in his seat as three deer trot across our view. Maybe sophisticated was too strong a word.

“Yes dear,” I humour him. “I have horses and donkeys, and a random Highland cow. We can visit them later if you’d like.”

“You have a coo?” His Scottish accent is terrible but bless his cotton socks for trying.

“Her name is Bog Cotton.”

“Her name is… what… that isn't a cow name.”

I just shrug. It's an awesome name for a cow that looks like a grubby rug. But she does have a great personality, so the name is affectionately meant.

“Eat up, we'll take a walk down to the stables before the horses get turned out for the day.” Nothing screams money more than owning your own racehorses. Porter tucks into his food as he continues to watch the deer roam across the field.

thirty-three

Porter

Cows,donkeys,andhorsessound like a petting zoo, which sounds like a kiddie thing. Visiting anywhere wasn't my mum's thing. Being outside makes her anxious. People make her anxious. Dirt makes her anxious. Not that anyone would guess the last one from the state of the house. I am super excited to be going outside, even if the borrowed wellies are a little big.

Knox looks just as sexy out of his suit as he does in one. Smart-casual in his Sunday best as we head down the sandy coloured gravel path.

For someone expecting a petting zoo, I'm not prepared for the sight that greets me. A semi-circle of purpose built stables line a courtyard where dozens of people mill about, doing whatever horse people do. Annie would have killed to have this life.

“Well, let me introduce you to some of the residents.” Knox tugs me by the hand to a huge grey horse head sticking out of the open door of a stable.

“This is Duck.”

“Duck?” I chuckle. “That is not a horse name.”

“He is a pedigree racehorse, and therefore has to have a unique name that no one has used before. His full name is Duckington Devil.”

“I guess for a guy called Knox Thayer, those names don't sound odd at all.”

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