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the car thoughtfully home.
     

CHAPTER FIVE
    'Tom listens to Imogen far more readily than he does to me,' Alex confessed to Anna in the tea marquee next day. They were at the Collingham Show; had been there since eleven; and at three o'clock had watched Tom putting Greensleeves through her paces in the under-fifteens event.
    There had been twelve competitors who, one by one, had been weeded down to two—Tom and a girl called Paula Felde on a magnificent blue roan, which she'd handled with confident skill. She was older than Tom by five years but, even so, there had been little to choose between them, and Anna had found herself very nearly as tense as Alex, as time and time again the two had been asked to canter and trot their horses in front of the judges' stand.
    But Paula Felde had been proclaimed the winner and tumultuous applause had rung out. She had gone up for her medal, followed by Tom who'd had a rosette pinned to his jacket. He, too, had got his share of applause but, instead of acknowledging it, he'd ducked his head and made straight for where Alex, Anna and Imogen were sitting. There had been congratulations from all three, and from people sitting nearby, but his small face had been stormy as he turned it to his father.
    'It should have been me,' his voice cracked. 'I was the best; I know I was; the judges just liked her horse!'
    He was close to tears and Anna found herself feeling sorry for him. It had been a close thing, very close, and the strain must have been enormous for a little boy who was not quite nine years old. Alex bent to him and talked to him quietly.
    'You rode superbly well, Tom, and there wasn't much difference between you, but the judges' decision is final; you can't get away from that. Paula Felde is a lot older than you; she's had more experience. What you must do now is go back down there and congratulate her. Don't let people see you're a bad loser, that's no way to go on.'
    Tom shook his head and looked mutinous, 'You must be joking!' he cried, pushing past his father and Anna to get to Imogen. Tom could see I was the best, couldn't you, Imo...? You could see it wasn't fair?'
    She persuaded him up on the seat beside her, but what she said to him was inaudible to Alex and Anna as the loudspeaker was blaring out details of the next event. It was plain, though, that she'd made him see reason for straight away they saw him going back down the gangway and along to the front of the stand where Paula Felde was talking to a reporter and having her photograph taken.
    Tom approached her and proffered his hand, which she shook with enthusiasm, and then he was coming back through the tiers of the stand, pink-cheeked and pleased with himself. 'The newspaper man said I was a real trouper, and she said I ought to have won!'
    'Good lad.' Alex made room for him on the seat but he took his place beside Imogen again, and sat there throughout the show jumping and the following dressage event.
    Soon after five, when they were thinking about tea, Imogen excused herself. 'I think I'll make my way home, Alex.' She looked tired and a little drawn. She had travelled in her own car to the show in order to be at the ground when Greensleeves arrived in her box and, by the same token now, she wanted to be at home to stable the mare when she got back. Tom elected to go with her, so off they went—the grey-haired woman in her blue suit and the small, striding boy in sleek riding habit, hard hat under one arm.
    'So, it's just us for tea,' Alex said, which was how he and Anna had come to be in the marquee together, talking about Tom.
    'Has Miss Rayland been with you since he was very young...since your wife died?' Anna asked with care, but feeling that Alex wanted to talk.
    'She came to us when he was five. He'd just started school. She was House Matron at a prep school for boys at Bayford, along the coast, saw our advert for a housekeeper, decided she wanted a change and came to us— just like that. We couldn't believe