Miss Eleanor froze, staring at me with her hands on her hips. She appeared bemused I had gained the trust of her so called grumpy horse.
“Byron, you are a very, very, naughty boy.” She marched right up to me and whipped his reins right out of my hand.
“Well, he’s in love Miss… give him some leeway.”
She pursed her ruby red lips sideways. “You have experience with training horses Jack?”
I felt it come on fast. Being young and in the presence of a pretty girl, it was bound to happen. That cockiness that made my head swell with a stupid arrogance.
“Well Miss, I have a gift with animals.”
She hummed. “Yes, very impressive the way you gained his trust. But he will only ever allow me to ride him, won’t you my darling.”
Sometimes you have to know when to stop before you dig a hole that you can’t get out of. But that was never me. I smiled at her with complete confidence. If she could ride that horse, then so could I.
“Maybe he needs to be exercised differently. Maybe he needs someone who understands the way he thinks and feels,” I said, assured.
“You think you can handle Byron, Jack?”
“Miss, I think I understand Byron more than you know.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Well here you go Jack.” She handed me the reins. “You can ride him back to the stables.”
At that point, I was unsure whether my pride had got me into bother. There was a tone in her voice that was calling my bluff. But I wasn’t about to refuse and make myself look like a twit. So I took hold of Byron, placed my foot in the stirrup, and mounted with ease.
I peered down at Miss Eleanor, to see her grinning.
“See, he likes me,” I said.
As soon as those smug words left my mouth, Byron decided to teach me a lesson. He hurtled up the grassy mound, making sure I felt the painful thud of every powerful stride. I must have looked like ragdoll, bouncing around on his back. I let out a girly squeal as he sped violently.
“Whoa boy, easy, easy,” I yelled, clinging onto that horse for dear life.
Abruptly, he came to a complete stop. I gasped for air, thankful he had listened to me. But then he decided to tip down his neck so I slid over, down, and landed on my back beneath his wet nose. I’m not going to lie, that fall took the wind right out of me.
Miss Eleanor’s silhouette appeared over me, with a halo of sunlight around her body. I used my hand to shield my face, and squinted up to see her satisfied smile.
“Bravo Jack, bravo,” she clapped.
I held out my hand, thinking she would at least help me up. But more fool me. She took Byron’s reins and climbed up onto the saddle.
“You won’t help an injured man on his birthday?”
“Aww it’s your birthday.”
“Yes.”
“Well, happy birthday Jack.” She giggled, giving Byron a nudge with her foot. “See you around Jack.” She cantered away.
I smiled up to the sky that day. First impressions can be deceiving. I liked her wit. She clearly gave as good as she got.
Jack’s Journal: The Moment
I write each word as I sit in this stinking, rat infested, knee-high in mud trench, listening to the enemy fire as it lights up the murky night sky. Because Nell, you take me away from this place. And even if my time were up, I will close my eyes knowing I can be with you. You will always be my slice of heaven, and I remember the exact moment you became so. It was my third week paying off the family debt. Every day I worked my fingers to the bone, and I did it gladly, because every day I got to spend a few moments with you.
Eleanor would, mid-afternoon without fail, enter the stables to tend to Byron. After Byron’s failed attempt to escape, something began to brew between us. We both felt it. We would steal a glance of each other. Accidently our bodies would touch, and she would blush so beautifully. It was a growing need that we should have abstained from, but couldn’t. It couldn’t be fought away or brushed aside. It was far too strong.
This day was the busiest one yet. Duke had to be cleaned and dressed for the Brigadier. He was to attend a formally gathering of the militaries elite. A gathering where men would discuss the impending war, and play toy soldiers. Benny was busy polishing the Brigadier’s brass, and I was left with the task of braiding Duke’s mane. I never once gave the impression I could make pretty plaits in hair, so I was dumbfounded, and frantic about the task given to me.
It was my forth stab at hairdressing on Duke, and it was far from perfect. I twirled it, knotted it, and twisted it, until it was tight. Basically, I made mess of the whole thing. With my forehead pressed on Duke’s back in disarray, I decided, before my heart gave out, it would have to do.
When Eleanor walked in with Byron’s saddle over her arm, she gasped at the sight of Duke. I was at my wits end, and I didn’t need to be told it was no good. I could clearly see the hair poking out and the bits I’d missed.
She laid Byron’s saddle on the floor. “Jack, are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” I grumbled.
“Duke sure doesn’t.” She burst into a fit of laughter.
She melted my fury. Her laugh was like a remedy for my dark mood. Nothing could be wretched when she laughed this way. I smiled momentarily, as her eyes glazed with amusement.
“It’s not funny is it,” I griped. “Your father won’t be too happy when he sees this monstrosity will he?”
“Oh Jack.” Her laughter peaked. “It’s not that bad… Father may not even notice.”
“Miss… please, you have to help me out here.”
She picked up a grooming brush and made her way over. “Call me Nell, I hate being called Miss.”
She unravelled the mess I had created, and let Duke’s mane down. She brushed it from root to tip with speed, until it was tangle free. I stood at her back. I wanted to pay attention to what she was doing, how to braid, in case it was tasked to me again. But all my focus was on her only. How could I not be taken by her, she looked so appealing and smelt like an angel that day. It was difficult being only inches away from her body.
“Nell,” I said in a tense breath.
“Yes.”
I just wanted to say it, her name. “Nothing.”
She had done it, pulled me out of the fire, and just in time too. The Brigadier came marching through, dressed in his cream trousers and black knee boots you could see your face in. Wearing his bright red military jacket with all his medals displayed across his chest. He was young for one of the highest ranking officers there were. I wasn’t sure at the time, but guessed him to be around forty years of age. He had dark hair, and a moustache that he tamed into pointy sides. Thinking about it now, it was one heck of a tash, and must have took him hours to spruce up each day.
He stood before Duke with his gleaming silver helmet under his arm, performing a rigorous inspection. I wasn’t sure how to behave; I wasn’t yet a soldier. So I stood very still and stayed silent.
“You did this boy?” he asked me.
Nell anxiously nodded her head behind her father’s back.
“Yes,” I was very reluctant to say. I was lying bear-faced to a man who could have had me shot.
“A very good job boy.” He greeted Duke, then mercifully led him out into the courtyard.
I blew out. “You lie a lot to your father?”
“It’s survival,” she smiled sweetly.
“Nell, thank you.”
She shied away. “Jack… would you like to ride out this afternoon?”
This was the moment things were becoming complicated, and I should have said no. But I had to know what it was; the blaze in my gut that occurred whenever I was near her. So I agreed.
That afternoon I rode the mare with no name, as Nell moved across the shoreline on a stampeding Byron. She was such a good horse, obedient, and very dainty. I did have a name in mind for her, but it wasn’t my place to even suggest it.
I journeyed behind
as the sun glistened in the splashes of sea water that hit my face. I watched Nell race ahead, to see her long damp hair become loose. She pulled on Byron’s reins to stop, and shook down her locks. It was a sight that took all the air out from my lungs. She waited for me to arrive by her side, with a smile on her rosy face. Again she swished her hair, then ran her fingers through it.
“So, let’s make this a little interesting… a race.”
“Where?” I asked, not holding out much hope against Byron.
She pointed to an old oak tree in a field full of long grass, about a mile away over the sand dunes.
“If I win, then you have to polish every saddle and strap of leather of Byron’s, including all brasses and buckles. Oh, and every one of my many pairs of boots.”
“And if I win?” I asked, already aware of what I wanted.
“What would you like Jack… name it?”
“A kiss.”
She flushed red. “Fine… Count of three- one- two….”
She wouldn’t even give me that three. She was off. But I had a prize worth fighting for, so coaxed my mare, and charged furiously in hot pursuit. She was lighter, and surprisingly quick. It wasn’t long before I was right by Nell’s side. Nell couldn’t believe it, and she wasn’t too pleased with my smug grin.
“Come on Byron,” she yelled, using her heels. But it was of no use to her, because I was already well in the lead.
The tree was only meters away. I pulled on the reins and congratulated my mare. I looked back through the long grass to see Byron stood still, without Nell on his back. Without delay, I spurred my horse across the field, while calling out to her. When I did reach Byron, I found Nell. She was out for the count, laying on the ground. Worry overcome me and I jumped down to her aid.
“Nell… Nell,” I called. “Oh god.” I dropped to me knees.
I wasn’t sure what to do, call out for help or try to move her. I was in shock and I couldn’t think straight. Then I heard it, that laughter of hers I enjoyed so much. It didn’t make me happy this time, more extremely cross.
“Explain to me why that was funny?”
“Oh Jack, but it was,” she continued to belly laugh.
I watched her chest shudder as her cheeks flushed. She was so addicting on my view and she made my body feel crazy things. I gazed into her green eyes as she calmed. Then, she stared up to me with a deep yearning sigh. Impulsively, I placed my hand on her soft cheek as our breathing became intense with need. I angled down and kissed her cool moist lips. It was a feeling unlike any other, as though the planets had collided in the heavens above. I drew away from her with a gulp, because even though it was a bet, my prize became irrelevant. What was happening was much more serious than some childish wager.
“Sorry,” I said to her, hanging my head in shame. “I should have never done that.”
“Jack, never say that to me again,” she said clearly, without any doubt. “I really like you Jack.”
“A poor man who can give you nothing.”
“Sweet Jack,” she sighed. “Love cost nothing at all.”
That was it, the start of something we both had become ensnared in. The moment I felt contented love. We both knew back then that we had crossed the line. I would be seen as some brute for corrupting the Daughter of superiority. And she had demons of her own that would soon begin to surface. But that kiss, it was our one moment of perfection.
Jack’s Journal: Loss and Love
Today I watched one of our four legged soldiers die pointlessly for this war. There was nothing wrong with him. Nothing that some care and rest wouldn’t cure. He was shot between the eyes because he was lagging behind. There is no place here for lagging men, or horses. And now I've been made sergeant of the 3rd Infantry Division, I have the task of sending my weary men to their demise. Injured or not. I hate it. The years of blood spilled on god’s green earth. What is it all for? Because when this war is over, if peace and paradise never come to pass, then Sons, Fathers, and Grandfathers, have perished needlessly. I guess we are all waiting for that light. Seeing that horse die today, reminded me that none of us can escape heart break. It reminded of the time Byron became gravely ill.
I had nearly paid off the family debt after working two short months at the Haughton Estate. But I never saw one second of it as hard graft. It was a happy time in my life; I had Nell. Okay, it was secretly. But we spent time together, out riding, or I would take her to the dance hall in the village, where she taught my two left feet how to move rhythmically. And boy, she could dance. We would swing, jitterbug, and waltz. We talked for hours on end. Half of the time the conversations were silly, and would end up in frisk and folly. I wanted to spend my life with her. I wanted to ask her father’s permission to do so. Unfortunately, my wants were never to be acted on, not after that fateful day.
Byron had been ill, and that night his condition went downhill fast, so I stayed with him in the stables. The poor boy was head butting the post in his stall, getting worse by the hour as Benny snored like a hog all night in his shabby chair. I didn’t get a wink of sleep. But I wasn’t bothered. I was more concerned with Byron than getting some shuteye.
The following morning the Brigadier came in with two other fellas. One was clearly a vet. I could tell that with white overcoat he wore and black case he carried. But the other man, I’d never seen before, and the Brigadier seemed to get on with him very well. He was only my age: light blonde hair, stark blue eyes, and his tone was that of an old stuck-up rich man. I wasn’t usually so judgmental, but this man, I took an instant dislike to. He was so arrogant and pompous, with his hair gelled back, in his light cream suit.
Nell bustled in not far behind them, and rushed directly over to Byron. He was stood swaying side to side, swinging his head. She sobbed as he nestled his neck over her shoulder for support. I was desperately wanting to comfort her, but that smarmy fella was there, with his hand on her back. I got the urge to jump into that stall and knock his head off. I had never felt an anger so raw.
“Please Alistair, get off me,” Nell moaned as I hung back in the shadow like a rat.
“Eleanor, Alistair is only worried. You should be more grateful,” the Brigadier snapped.
She did the right thing in my eyes. The better thing would have been to hit him hard over the head with a shovel. But back then, her warning him away, was good enough for me. I thought it was proof she would always be mine.
The vet moved into the stall then called me over to hold up Byron’s drooping head. He shone a light into his eyes as I consoled Byron the best I could. The vet glanced at me first, and I knew it wasn’t good news. My heart sunk for him, and for my Nell.
“I’m sorry to say, he has a brain tumour. I can see the swelling behind his eyes, and it explains why he’s banging his head. It’s very painful for him.” I kept a hold of Byron’s head as it seemed to appease him. “The kindest option would be to…”
Nell began to weep uncontrollably. She raced out of the stable, and into the courtyard. Alistair followed her, and that rage I had returned. I had to go out there because I couldn’t stand the thought of his hands on her again. So carefully, I let go of Byron’s head and dashed by the Brigadier’s suspicious eyes. She was fighting Alistair away, so I jumped in-between them, holding my hands up.
“What the hell are you doing?” he barked his spit at me.
“Leave her sir, she’s upset,” I said, trying to keep a cool head.
“You stupid idiot,” he said to me. “Don’t you think I know that… move aside boy.”
“Alistair!” Nell yelled.
The Brigadier ambled over with the vet. He was always a calm chap. No ounce of sympathy for his distraught Daughter. It was all just a job to him, which needed to be done.
“I have ordered Benny do the deed,” he said coldly.
“No Father!” Nell cried.
I grabbed her hand and knew right away it was wrong of me. But she needed it, and she wouldn’t let me go.
“
Who is this boy sir?” Alistair scowled.
“A worker who is going to take his hand off my daughter.”
Nell released me, fearing all hell breaking out. “Father, I want Jack to do it.”
Even I was shocked she said it. I had grown fond of that horse; the situation was painful for me also. The only thing I ever put out of its misery before that day, was a blackbird that had broken both its wings. Fairly upsetting for a boy of only ten years. A horse however, was a completely different kettle of fish.
“You will do this boy?” the Brigadier asked.
I had no choice. It was a damned if I do; damned if I don’t moment. “Yes sir.”
“Good. Well see it done boy, and then you are free to go home. Your services here are no longer required.” His boots scrapped against the gravel as he turned sharp to leave with Alistair and the vet.
I lowered my head then looked at Nell, weeping. I couldn’t talk or hold her in my arms out there, so I gestured her to follow me back to the stable.
Byron was now unsteady on his feet. His legs were weak and his breathing had declined into a strenuous low rattle. I don’t cry with ease, but right then, I had to use all my strength to stop the tears. Nell ran her hand up and down his nose with her head resting upon his. She peered over her shoulder, snivelling, and dipped her head at the shotgun propped against an old rocking chair.
“Jack,” she sniffed with red puffy eyes. “I will never think badly of you. He deserves to die with honour, and an honourable man must do it.”
I picked up the gun and shook my head as a tear managed to escape down my cheek. There was nothing honourable about it at all.
Nell came to me and took my face in her hands. “Byron would want you to do it.”
I pressed my lips firmly together, then went into my friend to say my peace. I had to tell him I was sorry, and that it was a pleasure to have known him. To thank him for bringing Nell to me.
After I had finished whispering in his ear, he held his head as steady as it had been in days. It was as though the poor fella knew and was ready to die. I held the gun in position, resting the butt firmly between my shoulder and collar bone.
Never Another You Page 3