"Do you want to stay over again tonight?" Luke asked once I'd rinsed the sweat from the gym off in the shower.

"Tempting, but I've got to start work at seven tomorrow. I'm better off going back to the farm."

"Don't remind me about work. I've got a conference call with a Japanese supplier at eight. Last time, the translator didn't turn up, and it was a nightmare."

I nearly offered my services, but I bit my tongue.

"Sounds like it," I said. So damn lame.

"At least stay for dinner?"

Another day off cooking? "Deal."

Our pizzas arrived an hour later, delivered lukewarm by a dude on a moped. We skipped the formality of the dining room and opened the boxes at the breakfast bar.

"Ugh, Hawaiian?" I crinkled my nose in disgust when Luke flipped his lid back.

"What's wrong with it?"

"It has pineapple. Fruit doesn't belong on pizza."

"Tomatoes are a fruit, and yours is covered in them."

"Okay, technically they are a fruit, but they're also not."

"You're using women's logic."

I grinned. "It's the best kind."

After we'd eaten, Luke offered to drive me home, and as I climbed into his car, I almost changed my mind and stayed for the night. My trailer didn't have Netflix or a shower with three nozzles.

It didn't have Luke, either.

"Better stop at the end of the drive," I told him as we got close to Hazelwood Farm.

If Susie or Hayley noticed me getting out of his car, I'd never hear the end of it.

"Can we do this again next weekend?" he asked as we sat in darkness. "It's... It was... I had a good time."

"Me too. I'd like that."

It may have been difficult to admit, but I sort of liked him. Luke was totally different to any of the men in my past, but he was kind. Sweet. Gentle. And right then, that was exactly what I needed.

Despite the miserable weather and the amount of mess the owners had left over the weekend for me to clear up, I was smiling on Monday morning.

"What's made you so cheerful?" Hayley asked.

"I won fifty quid on the lottery on Saturday." I held up Coco's rug in front of me. "Honestly, how does somebody get lipstick all over a horse blanket?"

"Practice."

I wouldn't have been so cheerful if I'd known a steaming pile of horse shit was about to hit the fan. The day passed uneventfully, and even when Tia and Arabella showed up after school, dropped off by Arabella's mum, it didn't dampen my spirits. Had Luke spoken to Tia about paying more attention to her horses? She was still there at five when I went in to catch up on the TV news. Please, don't let her leave the place a tip. I shook my head as I settled onto the couch. She was sixteen and hated getting her hands dirty—surely she couldn't wreak too much havoc?

I'd underestimated her.

When I heard a knock on the door at seven, I expected Susie or Hayley, but I got George.

Had he come to fix the shower? A glance at his expression told me the answer was no. He shifted from foot to foot, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Is there a problem?" I asked.

"Um, I don't really know how to say this." He refused to look me in the eye—never a good sign. "It's not something I've had to deal with before, and I don't take it lightly."

Oh, spit it out, man. "Say what?"

"I've had a complaint."

"About what?"

Me? Was this about the Henry episode?

"One of the owners said she saw you hitting her horse."

Of all the things someone could accuse me of, that hurt the most. I'd never hit an animal. A person, sure, if they deserved it, but never an innocent animal.

"That's ridiculous."

"I guess it surprised me too, and Susie and Hayley when I spoke to them just now. They said you were always kind to the horses. But the girl had a witness."

The purpose behind Tia's earlier visit suddenly became clear. I knew she wasn't my biggest fan, but how had I pissed her off enough to want me fired? Because surely that was where we were heading...

"So, you want me to leave?"

"I think that might be best."

I could try to clear my name, but two witnesses against me made that difficult. Plus George would be left in an awkward position—Tia and Arabella's horses were worth several thousand pounds to him each month, so he had to keep them happy. Not only that, I needed to maintain a low profile. Singing the injustice from the rooftops would hardly help my cause.

No, the easiest option was to leave. To walk away from Lower Foxford and everyone in it and start over. I'd done it once; I could do it again. Sure, I'd miss Susie and Hayley, but they weren't close friends. Luke flitted through my mind, the only cause for hesitation before I answered George.

"I'll go tonight."

"You don't have to leave straight away. You're welcome to stay in the mobile home until you get something else sorted." The relief that I'd agreed to go quietly was all too evident in his voice.

"I haven't got much to pack, and I'd prefer to leave as soon as possible."

Why hang around where I wasn't wanted? I closed the door, leaving George on the lopsided step. It only took me ten minutes to stuff my belongings into a bag. Where should I go? Far from this village, that was for sure. Thanks to the rumour mill, most people already thought my piano was a few octaves short, and this latest episode wouldn't help matters.

I glanced at my watch. If I got a bus to the train station, I might be able to catch a sleeper service up north. At least that way, I wouldn't have to find a hotel room.

But I'd have to hurry. I scribbled a note out for Susie and Hayley, thanking them for everything, and left it propped up on the table. They'd be thrilled when they realised they had to do all the horses between them tomorrow. I needed to let Luke know he'd have to make his own coffee next Saturday too, but I'd call him in the morning. No point in disturbing him when he was probably still at work.

The thought of never seeing him again stung more than it should. Perhaps we could have become friends if we'd met under different circumstances. Like at a point in my life where every other thing that came out of my mouth wasn't a lie and my head wasn't fucked. Those kind of circumstances.

I took one last look around the trailer that I'd called home, however briefly. The end of another chapter in my story, albeit a short and not particularly sweet one. My phone was running low on battery, so I turned it off. Who would I call, anyway? My bag was heavier than when I arrived, thanks to my efforts at shopping, but I slung it over my shoulder and tramped off. The bus stop wasn't far.

The driver who took my money for the next leg of my journey was the same one who'd dumped me off in Lower Foxford a month ago. I might have considered that poetic if I'd had any light left in my soul.

But only darkness remained.