Brimblecombe Stud, Saturday 5 th March 1994
Peter picked up his coat from the back of the chair while Joanna told the others that she was going with him to check on the foal. On their way to the foaling boxes he explained that the mare had been through an unusually long labour, but the vet had thought that she would probably manage to deliver the foal on her own. He had been right, but Peter felt that both she and the foal were exhausted now, which was why the little chap wasn't getting up.
“I'm wondering if we should have intervened after all. I'll give it another hour and if he isn't on his feet by then I'll get the vet back in.” he said. “ Right , here we are at the Maternity Unit” He spoke with a jollity that Joanna was sure he didn't really feel. As they reached the box though, he gave a genuine laugh,
“They prove you wrong every time.”
Still laughing he stood back so that Joanna could get past him and see for herself. There was the foal, standing by his mothers side feeding contentedly.
“We will just check on the mare you mentioned. She is an old hand at this game and she hasn't gone into labour yet, but we think she may foal down tonight. We've brought her over early because she has caught us out before. She never gives any of the usual signs that she is about to give birth, and twice now we have gone along doing morning stables to find her with her foal! It's lucky that she had no problems either time, but we're taking no chances this time ”
As they looked in on her they realized that she had almost caught them out again, She stood, straddle legged at the back of the box, slick with sweat and straining. |
“Is that a foot?” whispered Joanna. Peter nodded. Together they stood and watched in awe as the forelegs and then the head of a foal pushed into view. The mare paused to rest for a while and turned her head to look at them. Then she gave a wheezing grunt as another contraction began. Her knees buckled and she sank to the floor. With another grunt she delivered her foal onto the deep straw bedding. Joanna was transfixed. She didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry as she watched the mare gently lick away the membrane from the foal's mouth and nose and saw it's ribs rise and fall as it took its very first breath. It was over an hour later before she could tear herself away.
“I think she's hooked” smiled Rachel as Joanna finally finished her blow by blow account of the birth over supper that evening.
The drive from Devon up to Newmarket had taken just over six hours and after spending an anxious afternoon waiting for Mark's decision about Lady, neither Joanna or her parents were sorry when Rachel suggested that they might all like to have an early night.
There was only time the next morning for a quick look around the stud after breakfast before the Hadstocks needed to make a start on their long drive home. They drove out of the gates with Joanna leaning out of her window, waving furiously to Lady who was in the front paddock with Reiney. “Bye Lady,” she called “see you soon!”
Motorway driving, with it's mile after mile of grey concrete, was extremely tedious; even with frequent stops to break the monotony and John and Fiona taking turns at the wheel, they were all tired by the time they passed the sign at the edge of their village.
‘Hadstock – Please drive carefully.'
Hadstock village lay on the outskirts of Dartmoor about seven miles from the small town of Meadowvale Priory . Hadstock Manor, was a couple of miles outside the village and about the same distance from the Moor itself. The family, which gave its name to both the manor house and the village, could trace its history back to the 12 th century when their ancestor had been given a great deal of land and a not inconsiderable fortune in reward for services to his King. All that, however, was a very long time ago. Time passed, fortunes were lost and land was sold to repay debts generations ago. The present day Hadstocks found themselves in possession of a long and proud history, a huge and dilapidated family home and a very large overdraft.
John and Fiona, faced with a nationwide down turn in farming and a rise in the cost of the upkeep and repair their decaying house and farm buildings, had to find ways of generating more income or sell up and leave. John got a job as a lecturer in the agricultural college in Meadowvale, a larger town ten miles on towards Exeter from Meadowvale Priory. Paul, their son, took over the running of the farm and Fiona started up a riding and DIY livery stables. Joanna was at school in Meadowvale Priory and taking her ‘A' levels so that she could go on to train as a riding instructor at the Duchy College in Cornwall . Now, at the end of the second year of their last ditch ‘Diversify or Bust' money raising scheme they were keeping their heads above the water - but only just.
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