Page 60 of Never Gonna Happen

‘Yeah. A horse in canter moves to a three-time beat. When I learned to ride as a kid my instructor used to make me sing “My Favourite Things” from The Sound of Music to help get a feel for the rhythm. RAIN-drops on RO-ses and WHI-skers on KI-ttens.’

Emily snorted with laughter, imagining an adorable child version of Jamie singing Julie Andrews.

‘Can you show me?’

‘Sure.’ Jamie nudged Wilbur into a walk, then a rising trot, then another nudge into a loping canter. He rode fifty metres down the beach then made a wide U-turn and came back, Emily examining everything about his stance as he passed by. He did a couple more loops, then gently pulled the reins to tell Wilbur to slow back to a trot, then a walk. He pulled up beside her and stopped, Wilbur snorting and shaking his head.

‘You make it look so easy,’ said Emily with a nervous smile.

‘It’s definitely not easy. It takes practice, so don’t worry if you don’t get it straight away. When we’re back home we’ll do this in a big circle in the riding school; it’s easier for the horse to know what you want it to do. But these horses don’t really do circles.’

‘What if I fall off?’

‘You won’t fall off if you sit up straight. People fall off when they panic and lean forwards, then slide off sideways.’

‘How do I make her stop?’

‘By gently pulling on the reins and bringing her down one gear at a time. But I’ll ride alongside you so you can both follow my pace.’

Emily took a deep breath. ‘OK, I’m ready.’

She clicked her tongue to start Tasha walking, then followed Jamie into a rising trot. Back straight, heels down. Then she gave the horse a squeeze with her heels and felt the change in rhythm as they moved into a gentle canter. She tried to relax but there were too many things to think about and it all just felt disconnected and out of sync.

Jamie’s horse slowed to a trot, then a walk, and Tasha did the same.

‘That was a good first try,’ Jamie said encouragingly. ‘As I said, it’s not easy, but now you know what it feels like. This time try not to over-think it. Forget about the horse, just keep your back straight, heels down and focus on the movement. RAIN-drops on RO-ses and WHI-skers on KI-ttens.’

Emily laughed and relaxed a little as they set off again. By the time they reached the far end of the beach, they’d had lots of tries and Emily had sung the whole of ‘My Favourite Things’ apart from the bits about dog bites and bee stings. She was getting much better, although there were still times when she pulled the reins too hard and Tasha put on her handbrake, causing Emily’s pelvis to slam into the saddle and make her teeth rattle. Jamie stayed alongside her the whole time, shouting encouragement and reminding her to sit up straight and keep breathing.

They stopped for a break, letting the horses cool off in the gently lapping surf as the sun set behind the mountains.

‘You’re definitely getting it,’ said Jamie. ‘I’m really impressed. You’ve got a strong core, you’ll be good at paddle boarding.’

Emily grinned. ‘Can we do that tomorrow?’

‘How about a sunrise paddle?’ suggested Jamie. ‘It’s the best time of the day on this side of the island.’

‘I’d love to,’ laughed Emily. ‘When do we sleep?’

‘Meh.’ Jamie shrugged. ‘You can sleep on the plane home. Ready to head back?’

Emily nodded and kicked Tasha off first this time, leaving Jamie for dust. She mentally checked her posture and hummed the song, feeling the motion through the saddle as her hips fell into step with the horse. Tasha’s hooves pounded into the hard sand as Emily kept going, her skin tingling in the warm air. I’m doing it, she thought, I’m really doing it. She’d been so tired before they left the hotel this evening, but right now she felt unstoppable.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The moment Emily arrived at Flacq Sunday market, she wished her mum was here to see it. It was exactly the kind of place Carol loved – bustling with people and noise, with stalls selling everything from brightly coloured fruit and veg to seafood and textiles. It wasn’t fancy or expensive or just for tourists; there was a kind of joyful chaos as locals in a hurry dodged around the dawdling visitors, the air full of sweat and shouting and the smell of spicy street food. She took loads of photos on her phone to add to the family WhatsApp later, knowing that Carol would get far more excited about this than she would about white sand beaches and sunsets.

‘What do you think of this?’ she asked Jamie, showing him a scarf in swirling shades of fuchsia pink and purple. ‘I think my mum would really like it.’

‘It’s lovely,’ said Jamie. ‘It’s cashmere, you should get one for yourself too.’

‘They’re about fifty pounds,’ said Emily, doing the mental exchange rate maths and wondering if that sounded like a lot of money to Jamie. Probably not.

‘Yeah, but you’re not going to pay that. You have to haggle.’

Emily looked at him uncertainly. ‘Really?’ The market trader hovered impatiently, grinning expectantly at them both.

‘Of course,’ Jamie said. ‘He doesn’t expect you to pay full price – haggling is all part of the fun.’