"Stables, this time," Tommy corrects gently, before shutting the door once she's settled in. He comes around the the driver's side and slides in. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to how low the cars are, these days, but he does like the sleek, long lines and speed and how well everything handles.
Once he's slid in, he takes a moment before starting the car. "The charge is at private boarding, a friend of a friend, and she's a bit of a whip. Going out at the wrong time of day throws her off her rhythm. But the stables are beautiful."
Curly would love the stables, he knows. Not the dock-side stalls they use for some of the horses, and did even more in the early years, but still good and clean, with kind people.
"I may have packed a basket," he confesses with a laugh, starting the car. "I can't make a sandwich like my Aunt Pol, but there's a bit of something."
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Once he's slid in, he takes a moment before starting the car. "The charge is at private boarding, a friend of a friend, and she's a bit of a whip. Going out at the wrong time of day throws her off her rhythm. But the stables are beautiful."
Curly would love the stables, he knows. Not the dock-side stalls they use for some of the horses, and did even more in the early years, but still good and clean, with kind people.
"I may have packed a basket," he confesses with a laugh, starting the car. "I can't make a sandwich like my Aunt Pol, but there's a bit of something."