Sea Horses

by Louise Cooper

  ‘Yes,’ said Tamzin as the little lurch came again. ‘It is.’

  ‘Oh, well. See you tomorrow then.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said again. ‘See you.’

  Tamzin couldn’t sleep that night. She was thinking about Mum and Dad on their long flight, hoping they were all right and would land safely. But she was also thinking about the Grey Horse.

  By midnight Nan still hadn’t gone to bed. Tamzin could hear faint noises from the studio. Was Nan working on the horse painting again? Why was it so important that she should get it right? It was as if she believed something awful would happen if she didn’t, and that thought made Tamzin shiver.

  She could dimly see the painting of the galloping horse on the wall, and she stared hard at it until the shivery feeling went away. The horse looked very much like Moonlight, and she remembered what Joel had said earlier about the pony taking a liking to her. It fitted with her own thoughts; the feeling that Moonlight had protected her on the beach today and her certainty that, somehow, there was a connection between him and the Blue Horse.

  On an impulse she switched on the lamp, got out of bed and fetched her notebook and pencil from a drawer. She had been trying to keep a diary this year but kept forgetting, so most of the book was blank. Taking the pencil, Tamzin started to sketch a horse. She didn’t think she was much good at drawing but she tried to copy, as best she could remember it, the standing horse in Nan’s troublesome picture. Strangely, the lines came easily to her and within minutes she had finished. On the whole it wasn’t too bad. Encouraged, she turned the page and began on another. This time, in her mind’s eye, it was Moonlight, trotting. She couldn’t get the legs right, and hooves were very difficult, so in the end she drew some long grass to cover them. But it did look a little bit like Moonlight.

  Tamzin yawned. She had a pack of coloured pencils; she ought to use them to add some life to the picture. But she really was tired now. The sounds from the studio had stopped, so Nan would probably go to bed soon. She, too, should try to sleep.

  She put the notebook down and switched her light off. This time she fell asleep, and she dreamed of horses and the sea and, strangely, ringing bells.

  She slept right through until morning. When she woke up, the first thing she saw was the open notebook beside her bed. There was her drawing of Moonlight – but something was different. She stared, then realized what it was.

  The trotting pony in her picture had been coloured in blue.

  Tamzin frowned. She had been going to colour the picture last night, but she had only meant to do the sky and the grass. This, though… Had Nan tiptoed in while she was asleep and coloured it for her? She was sure Nan wouldn’t do that. So had she done it herself but been too sleepy to remember? It was the only likely explanation, wasn’t it?

  She didn’t know the answer to the question, and wasn’t sure that she wanted to. Carefully she closed the notebook and put it back in the drawer. Then she started to get ready for breakfast.

  Sunday was a memorable and exciting day. Tamzin arrived at the stables early, to find Joel and his parents mucking out the ponies’ stalls. Mrs Richards welcomed Tamzin like an old friend. Mr Richards, whom she hadn’t met before, was big and jovial with a booming voice; he told awful jokes that made her laugh. Barney, the hairy dog, followed her around, slobbering happily, and by the time the mucking out was finished Tamzin felt almost like one of the family.

  The stable had lots of Sunday bookings and they were kept busy all morning, grooming and saddling ponies and helping the people who came for their rides. Tamzin felt a funny little pang as she saw Moonlight trot out of the yard with a small boy on his back, but she pushed the feeling away and threw herself into the work.

  She was invited to lunch, and when they had finished and she couldn’t manage another mouthful, Joel said, ‘Moonlight and Sally-Ann aren’t booked this afternoon, Dad. Can I give Tamzin another lesson?’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Mr Richards. ‘Don’t go on the beach, though; the tide will be coming in. Why not ride to the village?’ He smiled at Tamzin. ‘It’s good practice, and I don’t suppose you’ve had much chance to see it yet.’

  ‘I haven’t seen it at all,’ Tamzin admitted. ‘But am I good enough yet, with traffic and everything?’

  Mrs Richards laughed. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not like the city! Anyway, Joel will look after you. And you can get me some shopping at the minimart. I’ll give you a list.’

  After what had happened yesterday, Tamzin was privately relieved that they wouldn’t be going to the beach again. She made a better job of putting Moonlight’s bridle on, and soon she and Joel were setting off.

  The village was a mile away, and was bigger than she remembered from when she had driven through it with Dad. As well as the mini-supermarket there was a butcher, a baker, a greengrocer, a newsagent, a little post office and a gallery selling paintings and pottery and gifts.

  They rode sedately along the main street. People smiled and waved – Joel seemed to know nearly everyone – and the smiles were so friendly that by the time they reached the end of the village Tamzin’s spirits were lifting. The supermarket was open, so they dismounted and Joel let Tamzin hold the ponies while he went in for his mother’s shopping. The afternoon was pleasantly warm, and Tamzin stroked Moonlight’s neck as he and Sally-Ann stood dozing in the sunshine. She felt better than she had done since arriving in Cornwall. Daylight, especially sunny daylight, made everything look different. So many strange and frightening things had been happening to her that it was an enormous relief to be doing something as ordinary as shopping in the village, where everything was normal and there was nothing to be afraid of. She felt happy. So happy that when Joel came out of the shop she gave him a huge smile that surprised him.

  ‘What’s that for?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, nothing special,’ said Tamzin. ‘I was only thinking how nice it is to have made a new friend so quickly.’ She looked at Moonlight. ‘Two new friends.’

  ‘Well, that’s good.’ Joel returned her smile with a grin of his own. ‘No more creeps, then? After yesterday?’

  ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘None. You’re right; it’s just a story. Isn’t it?’

  ‘Of course it is,’ said Joel.

  Tamzin turned to Moonlight again and Joel watched as she patted the pony affectionately. There was a strange expression on his face; thoughtful, and a little bit troubled. Tamzin wasn’t looking at him and so didn’t see.

  They remounted their ponies and rode on.

  Tamzin’s parents phoned on Sunday evening. It was just a quick call to say that they had arrived safely in Canada but it cheered Tamzin enormously, and she slept soundly that night.

  The next morning, Monday, she was to start at the village school, and as she was getting ready the postman brought her a parcel from Mum and Dad. Inside was a mobile phone. It was a trendy one, amazingly small and in the latest style. And it was blue.

  ‘Now you can show off to all your new school friends,’ Dad said in his letter. ‘We’ve sent Nan some money for you to buy top-up cards, but don’t go TOO crazy with it, will you?’

  Tamzin was delighted, and tucked the phone and the letter into her new school bag. She was also secretly pleased by the colour. Even though Dad couldn’t have known, she didn’t think it was a coincidence. That made her feel good – and she needed to. For the last couple of days, since Moonlight had bolted with her on the beach, nothing strange or frightening had happened. She was relieved; of course she was. But always there, at the back of her mind, was the thought: How long will this last? What’s lying in wait around the next corner? She was trying hard not to worry about it, but it wasn’t easy. Now, though, the present from Mum and Dad was like a signal. Something blue. It helped to boost her confidence.

  The feeling came back, though, when Nan drove her to school. It was raining hard, pelting grey curtains that the car’s windscreen wipers could hardly cope with. Trying to peer through the downpour, Tamzin remembered the st
orm. Did it always rain this much in Cornwall? she asked herself uneasily. Or was this something new, something different? The words of the ancient rhyme in Nan’s Bible came sharply back to her. Then I shall come from surging sea, And turn your world to stormy grey… She wanted to ask Nan about the rain, almost plead with her to say that it wasn’t unusual and there was nothing to be afraid of. But Nan was concentrating, and somehow Tamzin didn’t have the courage to say what she wanted to.

  Groups of children were hurrying out of the rain and into school as Nan stopped the car at the gates. Another pang hit Tamzin. It wasn’t the prospect of facing new surroundings. It was the knowledge that for the next few hours she would be away from Nan and from Chapel Cottage, which – despite what had happened during the storm – felt like a safe haven. It was a foolish fear, she told herself, but it was there all the same.

  ‘All right?’ Nan asked, looking at her searchingly.

  Nan understood… Tamzin nodded. ‘Yes, thanks, Nan. I’m fine. Really I am.’

  ‘Good,’ said Nan. ‘Well, you have fun, now.’

  Tamzin smiled and told herself firmly that there was nothing to be scared of. She kissed Nan goodbye, took a deep breath and walked confidently up the drive.

  School turned out to be uneventful and much better than she had expected. There were only about twenty pupils in her class, and she was surprised and pleased by how friendly they all were. Most of them knew Nan, or at least knew about her, and at break time they asked Tamzin all about her home, how it compared to Cornwall, and whether she had any brothers, sisters or pets. Almost all the class loved horses, she discovered; quite a few went riding, and two even had their own ponies. The class teacher – Mrs Beck, as Joel had predicted – was young and blonde and friendly, and the classroom itself was roomy and airy and painted a cheerful sunshine yellow, with drawings and charts and photographs of the local coast and countryside on the walls.

  By the end of the day, when Nan came to collect her, Tamzin had settled in and had all but forgotten her other troubles. It had even stopped raining. She rang Joel that evening, telling him about her new phone and her first school day. The evenings were drawing in fast, so by the time tea was over there wouldn’t be enough daylight left for riding. But they agreed that Tamzin would be at the stables first thing on Saturday morning, and Tamzin went to bed feeling easier than she had done for days.

  The whole week was quiet and uneventful – almost too uneventful, Tamzin thought sometimes, when she was lying in bed and waiting for sleep to come. And turn your world to stormy grey… There had been no more storms. Would they come? If so, when? She listened intently to the weather forecast each evening but there were no predictions of trouble. Everything was quiet.

  For now…

  At last Tamzin decided that she had had enough. She just couldn’t go on like this; it was too much. Nothing terrible had happened to her – she had to hold on to that, believe in it, or she would go crazy.

  By Friday evening she really had begun to believe, and she was feeling much better. She spent almost every waking hour of the weekend with Joel and the horses, working for her riding lessons. She had learned to rise to the trot now, and on Saturday afternoon Joel started teaching her to canter. Cantering was very different to trotting. As well as being faster it was also a much smoother motion, a bit like being on a rocking-horse.

  ‘All you have to do is sit there, really,’ said Joel as they shortened their reins ready for Tamzin’s first try. ‘Hold on to the saddle pommel for a bit if you want to, till you get used to it. And remember: heels down, knees in, back straight!’

  Tamzin grinned at him. ‘I’ll be as good as you one day. Then we can have a race!’

  ‘You’ll have to learn to gallop first.’ Joel returned the grin. ‘That’s something! But you know that already, don’t you? After that first time.’

  Tamzin’s face clouded as she remembered how Moonlight had bolted with her on the beach, and she resisted a sudden, strange urge to look over her shoulder. It was foolish, but she couldn’t stop the momentary feeling that something invisible was listening to her and silently laughing. She had tried to put the Grey Horse out of her mind. Now, though, the familiar fear came creeping back.

  She said quickly, and perhaps a bit sharply, ‘Yes, well, that was different. Next time, I’ll do it properly.’

  Joel seemed puzzled by the change in her tone, and just then a small cloud scudded across the sun and a wing of shadow passed over them. It made Tamzin feel cold. She looked away, hoping Joel would say something to break the tension. But he didn’t. Then the cloud moved on, and the sun came back. I’m not afraid, Tamzin told herself. I’m not. I’m not.

  She blinked, looked at Joel again and with a great effort made herself smile. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s get on with my lesson.’

  On Monday, Mrs Beck had an announcement to make. Every year the school held a Christmas fair, and each class made paintings and crafts to sell for a charity chosen by the pupils. This year, Tamzin’s class was raising funds for an animal sanctuary, and that was to be the theme for their creations.

  ‘We can have all kinds of animals, of course,’ Mrs Beck said. ‘But it would be great to concentrate on all the different creatures that live in Cornwall. So how about some ideas?’

  Several of the class, including Tamzin, called out at once, ‘Can we have horses?’

  ‘Yes, of course we can,’ said Mrs Beck. She smiled at Tamzin. ‘Your nan paints horses, doesn’t she? So how about you doing us some horse pictures to sell?’

  ‘I can’t really draw,’ Tamzin said uncertainly.

  ‘Well, maybe your nan would help you?’ suggested Mrs Beck. ‘You could ask her, anyway.’

  A girl called Lisa, who was sitting next to Tamzin, said, ‘What about lions?’

  Tamzin looked at her in puzzlement. Mrs Beck was puzzled too. ‘Lions?’ she echoed. ‘There aren’t any lions in Cornwall!’

  ‘There’s one, Mrs Beck.’ Lisa grinned mischievously. ‘Lion Rock!’

  Everyone groaned, and when the noise subsided Mrs Beck said, ‘I get the joke! Very good. But I think we’ll stick to real animals, all right? Come on, let’s have some more ideas, and we’ll make a list.’

  As the rest of the class started to call out their suggestions, Lisa looked sidelong at Tamzin. ‘Have you seen Lion Rock yet?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Tamzin. ‘From the beach.’

  ‘I’ve been right to it. In my uncle’s boat. He took me out last summer, when the sea was calm. It’s really creepy when you get close up, and much bigger than it looks from the shore.’ Lisa smiled. ‘He’s going to take me again next year, with some friends. You can come, if you like.’

  Before Tamzin could reply, Mrs Beck said, ‘Lisa, there’ll be plenty of time for that later, whatever it is. Come on, or you’ll be the only one without an idea – and we want to win the prize for the most sales, don’t we!’

  Tamzin meant to talk to Nan about Mrs Beck’s suggestion when she got home. But Nan was busy in her studio, and then it was tea time, and then Baggins bolted his food and was sick on the sitting-room carpet, and then there was a good programme on TV. So, with one thing and another, she hadn’t got round to asking by bedtime.

  She had an awful dream that night. She was running through the dark in a howling gale that roared and beat around her. Great gusts buffeted her from side to side, and the ground underfoot was rough and uneven, so that she stumbled and staggered and could hardly stay on her feet. She wanted to find somewhere to shelter and hide. But there was nowhere to hide, for the sea was rising up behind her, and she knew that if she did not run then it would come rushing over her and she would drown!

  The wind screamed and roared, sounding like galloping hooves. Tamzin cried for help, but there was no one to help her. Then she heard a new sound, far behind but coming closer with every moment. Another kind of roar, deeper and steadier than the wind. The sea – it was overtaking her! She couldn’t run fast enough, she
couldn’t escape! And the noise of the sea was like a deep, ugly voice, calling out over the wind’s howl: ‘GREY… GREY… GREY…’

  ‘Tamzin!’ Someone was shaking her shoulder. ‘Tamzin, wake up!’

  The dream flashed away into nothing, and Tamzin jolted awake to find the light on and Nan at her bedside.

  ‘You were having a bad dream, love,’ said Nan. ‘I heard you calling out, and you were thrashing around in bed. But the dream’s gone now. You’re awake and safe. Are you all right?’

  Tamzin nodded. She felt shocked and breathless.

  ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ Nan asked.

  Tamzin hesitated, then shook her head. ‘N… no thanks, Nan. I’d rather not.’ She paused. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Nearly two o’clock.’

  Nan was still fully dressed. ‘Hadn’t you gone to bed?’ Tamzin asked.

  ‘No.’ Nan sighed. ‘I know it sounds silly, but I was trying to get that new horse painting right. I still can’t make it work.’

  ‘Mrs Beck was talking about your horse paintings at school today,’ said Tamzin. ‘We’re having a Christmas art and craft sale for charity, and she asked if I could do a picture.’

  ‘Did she?’

  ‘Yes. But I can’t draw. So Mrs Beck said to ask, would you help?’

  Nan looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Can’t you draw?’ she said. ‘Have you ever really tried?’

  Tamzin hadn’t shown Nan the drawings she had tried to do of Moonlight. They weren’t that bad… ‘I suppose I haven’t,’ she admitted.

  ‘Well, then.’ Nan sat down on the bed. ‘You wouldn’t like to use my new picture to start you off, would you?’ She gave a strange little laugh. ‘I’m not getting anywhere; it doesn’t seem to like me. Maybe it’ll like you better.’

  Tamzin’s eyes widened. ‘I couldn’t, Nan! Your pictures are brilliant – I’d spoil it! Anyway, it’d be cheating.’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t. Mrs Beck did ask, after all. And you can tell her what you’re doing.’