She saw Joe give a quick desperate shake of his head. The next second she realized why. Len’s anger instantly turned to fury. ‘You lied to me?’ he said, staring at Joe. ‘Of all the …’ Stepping forward, he grabbed Joe’s shirt and brought his face right up into Joe’s, his eyes blazing. ‘Don’t you ever, ever lie to me!’ he thundered. He shoved Joe away from him with such violence that his son fell down on the stony ground with a smack.
Ellie held in the whimper that would have escaped from her if she hadn’t been terrified it would make everything worse.
Joe gingerly pulled himself up to a sitting position, but wouldn’t meet anyone’s eye.
Turning away, Len marched over to where Stuart was examining Milly’s leg. ‘What’s the damage?’ he said curtly.
‘A small cut. Bit of swelling starting. I’ll hose her down, boss.’
Len nodded and then walked towards the house, shaking his head in disgust.
For a moment there was silence. Helen led Barney into the stable block, one hand on his nose, the other holding the leadrope tight. Sasha took the others down to the yard, looking subdued.
‘Well, that helped,’ Luke said drily to Ellie as she ran over to try and help Joe up. But Joe shook his head at her quickly and stood up himself.
Ellie swallowed, still reeling from seeing Len lash out at Joe like that. It was all her fault.
‘Leave it out, Luke,’ Joe muttered, his face red.
Luke shrugged his shoulders and walked away.
Ellie looked at Joe. ‘Joe … I’m … I’m sorry.’
He took a breath. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve had worse.’
‘I just wanted to stop him.’
‘Look, forget it,’ Joe said. ‘Just don’t leave the lock off Barney’s door again, OK?’
‘Never,’ Ellie promised, still feeling awful.
Joe managed a smile. ‘Don’t look like that. It’s fine. I’d better go and untack Picasso before he puts a foot through his reins. God knows what would happen then. Why don’t you go and see if Stuart needs a hand with Milly?’
He walked away, leaving Ellie standing on the slope, overwhelmed by a mixture of emotions – misery, guilt, hatred of her uncle and the urge to run, it didn’t matter where, she just wanted to get far, far away. Across the wintery fields, she could see the bare peaks. The desolate grey sky pressed down with just a single bird flying across it. She wished with all her heart that she could be somewhere – anywhere – else.
Chapter Four
Over the next month Ellie gradually got used to living at High Peak Stables. She tried not to think about her parents and the numbness settled back over her, sealing around her in a protective layer. She worked hard, hiding her unhappiness as best she could, avoiding Len and Luke. Len had his hands full with the horses and the clients he taught, and Luke was far too busy to take much notice of her, flirting with Sasha and the female livery owners who kept their horses at the yard, taking phone calls and working with the horses. He strode around the yard in the day, exuding a relentless energy, with Pip scampering at his heels, before going off on his motorbike into town in the evenings. It didn’t seem to matter how late Luke stayed out, he was still up and on the yard by seven the next morning before doing a full day’s work. But despite all the girls who seemed to fall for his charms, the only person or animal Ellie ever saw him show real affection for was Pip.
It was a busy yard, particularly in the afternoons when the livery owners came to ride their horses. There was Eliza Peterson and her friend Carey Moss who were in their twenties, a lady called Veronica Armstrong whose ten-year-old son and four-year-old daughter rode ponies Len produced, and then there were the owners who never rode but just liked to own show horses. Ellie generally kept out of the clients’ way, preferring to spend time with the horses and Joe. And she had started school – a modern comprehensive in the nearby town where Joe was in the year above her. Everyone in her year had friends already, but that was OK. She just kept her head down and avoided trouble, wanting to get to the end of the school day as quickly as possible so she could get back on the yard.
The horses and Joe were the only good things in her new life at High Peak Stables. No matter how bleak she felt, the horses always helped. Their presence comforted her, and seeing to their needs took her out of her own head for a little while. A part of her wished she hadn’t decided to make the stand she had. It was hard being around them and never riding. But there was no way she was going to back down and it was enough that she was around horses. Joe helped her too. Sensitive, friendly and responsible, he was the complete opposite of Luke, and the more she got to know him, the more she liked him. When there were quiet moments, they would retreat to the barn, play with Sweep the kitten, talk about the horses and music, and tease each other. During those times, Ellie felt almost normal again.
‘If you had to be a dog or a cat, which would you be?’ Ellie said one Saturday lunchtime as they sat together in the barn on top of the hay bales.
As Joe considered the question, she thought how lucky she was that he just seemed to get her and she almost never had to explain what she meant.
‘I’d be a dog,’ Joe decided. ‘A Labrador.’ He grinned. ‘And you, you’d be one of those little white poodles with hair all tied up.’
Ellie shoved him. ‘I so wouldn’t!’ She knew Joe was teasing her. ‘Go on, what would I be?’ she challenged him.
‘You’d be a …’ Joe looked at her thoughtfully. ‘A dog like Pip. Interested in everything, full of energy and loyal.’
‘Totally wrong, actually. I wouldn’t be any type of dog, I’d be a cat,’ said Ellie, running a piece of straw along the bale for Sweep to chase. The kitten pounced and she scooped him up, lying back with him. ‘I’d be just like you, Sweep.’
‘Yeah, with a wonky head!’ Joe grinned.
Ellie frowned. ‘Sweep’s head isn’t that wonky now.’ She kissed the kitten’s nose. ‘You take no notice of him, Sweep. You’re beautiful.’ She put Sweep down and watched him bound away. ‘I like it up here,’ she said, glancing up at the roof of the barn. The beams were hung with years of cobwebs and dust, but it had a warm, safe feel.
‘You’d better make the most of it. In another month or two there’ll be shows every weekend, some in the week too. We won’t get a second to sit around like this.’
There was a note in Joe’s voice that suggested he wasn’t looking forward to it. ‘Don’t you like shows?’ Ellie asked curiously.
Joe shrugged. ‘They’re OK, I suppose, but I’d far rather be working with the horses on the yard.’
‘What will you do when you leave school?’ Ellie had heard Joe talking of leaving school after his GCSE exams in the summer.
‘Work here I guess, though –’ Joe broke off.
‘What?’
‘What I’d really like to do is go and work on a different yard. Not a showing one. One where they treat difficult horses, maybe, and help them.’
‘That would be brilliant,’ enthused Ellie. She could just see Joe doing it. ‘You must.’
‘Can you really imagine Dad letting me?’
Ellie frowned. ‘If you want to do it, you shouldn’t let him stop you.’
‘Easy to say.’ Joe shot her a sideways look. ‘Though, actually, if it were you, you probably would just go ahead and do it anyway.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘I think it’s cool what you’re doing, Ellie. Dad’s mad that you still aren’t riding the ponies but what can he do? And you work hard so he can’t complain.’
Ellie didn’t say anything. She was beginning to find it harder and harder to be on the yard so much and yet not ride. But there was no way she would give in. A bit of her knew that it was goading her uncle and she felt a secret, silent pleasure in that. She didn’t think she’d ever met anyone she liked less than her Uncle Len. He might be good with the horses, but everything she’d seen in the first day had been confirmed – with people he was badgering and domineering, expecting them to do exactly what he said.
Joe looked pleased. ‘I’m glad you’re here too. It’s much better than when it was just me, Dad and Luke.’
Ellie rolled her eyes. ‘Luke is so annoying!’
Joe chuckled. ‘He’s not that bad. He didn’t have an easy time when he was younger. His parents aren’t great and he hated boarding school. And having him here keeps Dad off my back a bit.’
Ellie studied him. She knew Joe’s own life hadn’t been easy either. He had told her that he had really missed his mum when she left. He still saw her sometimes, just not often because she lived a long distance away in Devon and he was usually kept too busy on the yard to go and visit her.
‘You know, you have to be the only girl under the sun to think Luke’s annoying,’ Joe went on with a certain satisfaction. ‘Normally, girls all fancy him like mad.’
Ellie pulled a face. ‘Ugh. No way. He’s so arrogant.’
‘Did you have a boyfriend in New Zealand?’ Joe asked her curiously.
‘Not when I left.’ Ellie had been out with a few boys, but the longest she’d been out with anyone was six weeks, and since her parents had died, going out with someone had been the last thing on her mind. Her face shadowed over instantly at the thought and she had to fight back the bleakness that swelled up inside her. She stared at the bale of hay, counting to ten in her head, concentrating on the numbers as she pushed the grief back down. It was always like that. She would feel OK for a little while, not thinking about what had happened, but then something would bring it all flooding back. When she reached ten, she cleared her throat, back in control enough to speak. ‘We’d better get going. Your dad will be out on the yard soon.’
Joe looked troubled. Ellie had a feeling he was about to ask her how she was and she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to talk about it. She climbed quickly down from the bales. ‘Come on!’
But Joe wasn’t to be put off. ‘Are you happy here?’ he said as he jumped down on to the thick layer of hay and straw that covered the barn floor.
Ellie turned back and stared at him. Happy. The word felt strange in her mind, as if it was a foreign language she didn’t quite understand. What could she say? There were times when she felt all right, usually when she was with Joe or busy with the horses, but she never felt really and truly happy. Every night she still cried as she thought about everything she had lost. But she wasn’t going to tell anyone else that, not even Joe.
‘Well?’ Joe pushed when she didn’t reply.
‘Um …’ She saw his concerned look. ‘Y-yeah. Kind of,’ she stammered. ‘Come on!’
She hurried off, leaving Joe watching after her, a frown on his face.
On Thursday morning Ellie was just getting ready for school when there was a knock on her bedroom door. She looked round in surprise. No one ever came up to her room. ‘Who is it?’
‘Me. Joe.’
Ellie opened the door. Joe grinned at her. ‘I think we should have some fun today.’
She wondered what he had in mind. ‘Doing what?’
‘Let’s bunk off school.’
‘Bunk off?’ Ellie echoed uncertainly. She still struggled with a few of the unfamiliar English phrases. ‘You mean not go to school?’
Joe nodded. ‘Dad’s out for the day looking at some horses. We can miss the bus and take fake notes in to say we were sick when we go back to school after half term, a week on Monday.’
Ellie stared at him, astonished. Joe was normally so conscientious and responsible, not the type of person ever to get into trouble or break rules. ‘What will we do?’
‘There’s a horse sale on in Barrowton. We could go over there, just look at the horses, hang out for a while. I know Stuart’ll take us if we ask. He’s got to go into the tack shop there anyway. He won’t mind going to the pub for lunch while we look round.’
‘Won’t he tell your dad about us missing school?’
‘Not Stuart. He’s not bothered by things like that. Come on,’ Joe urged her. ‘You need to have some fun. It’ll do you good.’
A feeling of recklessness caught hold of Ellie. She loved the thought of doing something different, something other than the normal routine. ‘OK then!’
‘You’d better get changed,’ Joe said, looking at her school uniform. ‘You can’t go to a horse sale looking like that.’
Ellie quickly shut the door and pulled off the grey polo shirt and black trousers that were her school uniform. She changed back into her jodhpurs and put on a red top and her fleece. As she fixed her hair into a ponytail, her eyes fell on the jewellery box beside her bed. Maybe she should take her money. She might see some things in Barrowton that she could get for her room. She hadn’t got any further with her plans for doing it up. She took out the whole lot – three hundred pounds – stuffed it into her purse and ran downstairs.
Ellie had never been to a horse sale before. There were people everywhere, men in flat caps, women with hard faces, a few children. There was the sound of neighing and shouting. Dogs were dashing about through people’s legs or being walked on leads. There were two barns and lots of metal pens, all filled with horses and ponies. No one remarked on the fact that Ellie and Joe should be at school.
‘That’s where they sell the tack,’ explained Joe, pointing to the barn on the left. ‘The horses and ponies are in the pens over here.’
Ellie walked around, feeling more aware of everything than she had done for a long time. The air felt tense, and full of possibilities, as the horses and ponies were bought and sold.
The pens nearest them held an assortment of shaggy ponies. There were three bay yearlings, an old grey pony, a pretty dark bay mare and a young piebald cob. They all had a card with their sale descriptions on tied to their pen gates. She could feel how confused and anxious they were, the foals huddled together, the other ponies pacing, their eyes scared as people walked past looking at their catalogues and making comments about the horses.
Ellie stopped to stroke the bay mare. In front of them were the pens with the horses in. Her eyes scanned over them – bay, black, skewbald. Then her gaze came to rest on a dirty white-grey horse of about fifteen hands in one of the outer pens. He was an Arab with a dished face, large eyes and delicate muzzle. His mane was long and part of it had rubbed out, his tail was straggling, his ribs prominent. He was in poor condition, but that wasn’t the only reason Ellie’s gaze fell on him – he was staring straight at her. Ellie had never seen the horse before, ever. But as their eyes met she somehow had the strangest feeling that they had always known each other.
Feeling a bit stupid, she blinked and turned away.
However, even facing the other way, she could still feel the grey horse’s eyes on her back, boring into her, insisting she look back at him. She glanced round again. She knew it was mad, but she felt as if he was willing her to go over, and somehow Ellie couldn’t refuse. She took a step towards him, but just then Joe touched her arm.
‘Let’s go to the ring where they are selling the horses.’
Ellie shot one last reluctant look at the skinny grey horse and then followed Joe away.
The sales ring was a large round pen and there was sawdust on the floor. People stood all around it. All Ellie could think about was the grey horse. An auctioneer in a green waistcoat and checked shirt sat on a platform, a small hammer in his hand. A young black gelding of about 16 hands was being trotted round the ring by a man dressed in a brown overall. There was a number stuck to the horse’s flank.
‘What’ll I be bid for lot 113? Three-year-old black gelding, thoroughbred sire. Irish draught mare …’ The auctioneer’s voice came over the loudspeaker.
The people bidding were holding up their hands. Joe pushed through the crowd to find a space right by the bars of the pen, but Ellie hung back. ‘I’ll just be a moment,’ she told Joe. He nodded, absorbed now in the bidding.
Ellie made her way back through
the crowds and looked across at the pen where the grey horse was. His back was to her and his head was sagging down. She could almost feel the suffering in the air around him. Suddenly he looked round over his shoulder. It was as though he had sensed she was there.
Almost before she knew it Ellie was hurrying through the crowds towards him, dodging round people, half tripping over dog leads, her eyes on the pen. By the time she reached it, the horse had come to the gate.
She drew in her breath. Closer up, she could see the full extent of his neglect. His coat was rough and covered with dirt and grass stains. His legs were clogged with mud. There were scars on his knees, shoulder and neck. His ribs stood out. But despite his age and his half-starved condition, there was something about his eyes that captivated her. They were deep and dark and seemed to see right down inside her. She reached out and touched his neck.
A gruff voice spoke behind her. ‘That one’ll be going to the knackers then.’ Ellie glanced over her shoulder. Two men were walking nearby, commenting on the horses in the pens. The man who had spoken was pointing at the grey.
‘Not a doubt about it,’ said the second man. ‘Unwarranted and sold unsound. Look at the state of it.’
‘Meat man’ll be lucky to get his money’s worth with that,’ said the first man. He shook his head. ‘Poor old sod.’ And they walked on. The horse looked at Ellie. Suddenly she was filled with a burning conviction.
‘The meat man won’t get you,’ she said. ‘I promise.’ She knew she had to buy him. She stroked his neck once more. ‘I’ll be back in a moment!’ And she turned and fled through the crowd.
‘You want to do what?’ Joe stared at her. She dragged him away from the ring.
‘I want to buy a horse. How do I do it?’
‘But you can’t,’ Joe protested. ‘You haven’t got any money.’
‘I have. I’ve got three hundred pounds. It might be enough. He’s old and the people I heard talking said no one would want him apart from the meat man.’ She stumbled over the horrible words. ‘Oh, Joe, I’ve got to buy him. I can’t let that happen.’
Loving Spirit Page 4