by Amy Brown
‘You know you’re allowed to help yourself to fruit,’ Mr Death said, looking at Jade as if she were about seven.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘No worries. I’ve just bought fresher apples if you’d prefer. They’ll be from a cool store, too, but at least they won’t have been sitting in the fruit bowl for the last fortnight.’
Jade laughed quietly, because it seemed as if Mr Death expected it.
‘I also got us a big Sally Lunn bun for after lunch. You like Sally Lunn?’
‘Yes.’
‘Even the raisins? Not just the coconut icing?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good girl!’
Not knowing what to say, Jade stood stupidly in the doorway, wondering when was the soonest she could escape to the stables without seeming impolite.
‘Lunch won’t be for another hour yet — go and play with your pony.’
Play with her pony? ‘OK,’ Jade said, avoiding Mr Death’s steady hazel gaze and trying not to run as she crossed the driveway towards the stable.
‘I have to think more about you than about the weird old Deaths,’ Jade told Tani as she groomed him. Then she noticed the young bay was dribbling chewed apple out of the corner of his mouth. ‘Hey, you’re not supposed to do that,’ Jade informed him. ‘Pip might sometimes dribble, but that’s because she’s twenty-four, with old teeth. You have perfect young teeth, so no excuses for bad table manners.’
Tani threw his head up in the air, as if dismissing Jade’s point. A fleck of apple landed on Jade’s forehead.
‘And if you’re going to be like that, shall I put you in the paddock and stop this nice grooming?’
Tani made no reply.
‘The paddock will be more interesting than this dark little box anyway. Let’s get your cover on.’
When her pony was ready for the chilly air outside, Jade clipped the lead rope back onto his halter. Suppressing the urge to turn the lead rope into reins and ride Tani (it would be so embarrassing if he bucked or bolted as the others were returning), Jade led her pony sedately to the home paddock.
‘Maybe the halter would be better than a bridle?’ Jade asked Tani, who rudely turned away before his rider had finished speaking. He was more interested in finding the perfect muddy place to roll. ‘Maybe your teeth need filing, and that’s the problem?’ Jade tried again. ‘That would explain the dribble.’
‘What would explain the dribble?’ Laura asked, eyebrows high. She and Sofia were the first ones home, but Jade could see the others approaching the back gate.
‘Nothing,’ Jade said. ‘But, Laura, before the others get back, I have something to tell you. It’s a bit weird, and top secret.’
Seeing Jade’s anxiety, Laura became sympathetic. ‘Is it the thing Mrs Crawford talked to us about at the beginning of the year?’
‘No!’ Jade said, annoyed. ‘It’s really serious.’
‘OK, but you’d better be quick. The others will be back any minute.’
‘I know — it’s a bit hard to explain.’ Jade paused. ‘Have you heard laughing coming from Mr Death’s attic?’
Laura stared at her friend. ‘What?’
‘A lady laughing — well, cackling really. Or any other suspicious noises?’
‘No,’ Laura sounded incredulous, but her frown line had deepened. ‘Why?’
‘I heard Mr Death on the phone this morning. He didn’t go to Palmerston like he said he would; he stayed in his attic.’
‘So?’
‘So, while he was on the phone, he said something about not being able to let a lady go. Her name was Bertha.’ Jade paused for effect: Laura had read Jane Eyre: Abridged, too.
‘You’re joking me?’
‘I am deadly serious.’
‘You don’t really think that Mr Death is keeping a lady called Bertha in his attic, like that man, Jane Eyre’s boyfriend?’
‘Mr Rochester,’ Jade interrupted, frustrated.
‘Whatever. You don’t actually think it’s like the book?’
‘I don’t know, Laura. I hope not, but I have been hearing some weird things.’
Laura, although usually a logical, rational girl, was prone to following someone else’s paranoia. For instance, like her mother, Laura believed that Princess Diana’s death was no accident. This favourite conversation topic of Laura’s always made Jade uncomfortable.
‘OK,’ Laura said, beginning to use the important, hushed tone normally reserved for discussing Princess Di, ‘if you think something’s going on, I believe you.’
‘Shh — they’re back,’ Jade hissed. ‘And thanks.’ She smiled at her ally.
‘I won!’ Laura called to Becca, Zoe and Cosima, who were kicking their feet out of their stirrups and dismounting.
‘You turned around first,’ Becca snapped. She had seen Laura and Jade whispering and assumed it had been about her.
‘Well done, Laura!’ Zoe said, with a condescension worse than Becca’s acidity. ‘Do you remember how to untack?’
‘Yeah, I think so,’ Laura said.
‘Well, why is Sofia standing there with a tight girth?’ Zoe asked sweetly.
‘Sorry,’ Laura muttered.
‘I’ll help you if you help me,’ Jade said quietly, running up the stirrups on Sofia’s saddle and loosening the girth.
‘Deal,’ Laura said, grabbing Jade’s hand and shaking it under patient Sofia’s bay neck.
Cosima looked at the girls curiously, but, of course, said nothing.
Mr Death’s Secret
Cosima was delicately picking every raisin out of her slice of Sally Lunn bun and occasionally glancing at Jade and Laura.
‘Would you like the butter?’ Laura asked Cosima.
The younger girl shook her head and went back to pushing the raisins to the corner of her plate.
‘Cosima doesn’t want butter; she wants to know why you shook hands outside,’ Mr Death said, chuckling. ‘It seems to have got to her.’
Jade’s eyes met Laura’s, shocked.
‘You’re wondering how I know? Of course, it must seem odd,’ Mr Death said. ‘If Cosima’s feeling unusually communicative, she’ll write us a note.’
‘Oh,’ Jade said, feeling a blush creep up her neck. She dug her fingers into her palms and hoped Laura had an idea.
‘Um,’ Laura said, looking first at Mr Death, then Cosima. ‘It was nothing really. We were just agreeing that neither of us would chicken out of the hunt on Saturday. I asked Jade to shake on it because I knew how nervous she was.’
Jade was both relieved and offended. It was a very convincing lie.
‘You’re definitely coming hunting with us?’ Becca asked, perking up.
‘I guess so,’ Jade replied.
‘That’s awesome! I’d thought you were going to ask to go home. Zoe and I were even taking bets on how long it would be before you rang Mr White for a lift.’
‘Don’t tell her that!’ Zoe exclaimed. ‘We weren’t really taking bets, Jade.’
Smiling weakly, trying to be a good sport, Jade was seething inside. ‘No,’ she said as lightly as she could. ‘I won’t be going anywhere.’
‘If you’re planning on taking that rat hunting on Saturday, you need to do some work with him,’ added Mrs Death. She was tearing dainty pieces off her slice of bun and dipping them quickly in her mug before putting them in her mouth. Jade could see a greasy, coconut-flecked film forming on the surface of Mrs Death’s black coffee. ‘Zoe, why don’t you have a ride on Tony this afternoon? And try him in a standing martingale.’
‘It’s Tani,’ Jade said, too quietly.
‘OK,’ Zoe replied without enthusiasm. ‘I guess we have to sort him out before the weekend.’
Jade wanted to explain that her young pony had behaved reasonably well this morning, and that she doubted the Deaths’ methods of ‘sorting him out’ would work. Saying that out loud would have sounded very rude, though; instead, Jade nodded and cleaned the last crumbs of bun off her plate with her
forefinger.
‘Pack it in!’ Zoe growled, ineffectually hitting Tani with the end of the lead rope. All the pony had done was sidestep while Zoe was tightening his girth. To Jade, this didn’t warrant a telling-off. She looked around for Laura, who would have shared Jade’s opinion, but her friend was inside. She and Becca had politely agreed to play Monopoly with Cosima and Mr Death. Jade hoped Laura was managing to act naturally around Mr Death, although this seemed unlikely.
‘Give him an inch and he’ll take a yard,’ Zoe said, probably using her mother’s words. Jade was briefly confused: Mr Death or Tani? Of course, Zoe meant the pony.
‘Hold his head while I mount, please.’
Jade stood next to her pony. In her left hand, she held one of the reins loosely, and with her right she stroked Tani’s neck.
‘Not like that,’ Zoe said. ‘Stand right in front of his head, and hold both reins. Show him who’s boss.’
Jade was sure Mr White had told her not to stand directly in front of a horse’s head. Or perhaps she’d read it in a book? The reason for standing to one side was to do with the horse’s eyes: if Jade stood at Tani’s nose, he’d have to turn his head to see her. He didn’t like not being able to see who was nearby.
‘That’s enough!’ Zoe growled again. She was in the saddle now and had a very tight hold on the reins. Startled by the sudden pressure on his mouth and unaccustomed to the restriction of the standing martingale, which forced his chin towards his chest, Tani had begun reversing rapidly. At the poke of Zoe’s spurred heels against his stomach, Tani tried to throw up his head, but couldn’t. He attempted a sort of half-rear; that didn’t work either. Giving a desperate buck, he was met with a sharp smack on the flank from Zoe’s whip. Jade wanted to look away, but felt cowardly. She made herself watch as Zoe tugged, kicked and beat Tani into submission.
‘That’s better — good boy!’ Zoe said in a silly voice, a bit like Yoda’s from Star Wars. When she slapped Tani’s neck with a vigorous pat, the pony flinched, apparently uncertain whether he was being praised or punished. ‘He’s fine when he knows who’s boss, Jade.’ Zoe now had Tani walking slowly around the home paddock, over-bending his neck and twitching his ears at the slightest movement of Zoe’s whip.
‘Watch where you’re going,’ Zoe growled as Tani stumbled in a particularly muddy patch of ground.
‘He can’t,’ Jade said without thinking. ‘Not with that martingale strapping him down.’
Zoe rolled her eyes. ‘You spoil him, Jade. And while you spoil him, you’ll never be able to ride him really well. Hugs and kisses and treats from the kitchen don’t mean that you’re a good rider; it means you’re keeping your horse as a pet.’
Wearing spurs, carrying a whip and buckling a short strip of leather from a pony’s breast to his chin to keep his head still isn’t riding either, Jade thought, but couldn’t say out loud. It means you’re a bully.
Zoe was trotting now. In the far corner of the paddock, next to the windbreak, she commanded Tani to canter. He obediently changed his stride, without fuss or argument. There was no question that Zoe’s techniques were efficient: Taniwha now barely resembled the baulking, rearing, bolting mess that Jade had fallen off two days ago. But it wasn’t as simple as just being ‘efficient’, was it? Rather than having to force him to behave like a calm, happy pony, wouldn’t it be better if Tani was actually calm and happy — if he chose to be more rideable? Of course, but that would take ages and the hunt was on Saturday.
Maybe the only way to tame a horse in two days was with artificial aids, with spurs, whips, martingales and heavy bits. And maybe the hunt was a stupid idea. Was it really worth putting Tani at risk, simply to show off to Zoe? Maybe she should call Mr White and go home early. But no, if the noises Jade had been hearing coming from Mr Death’s attic were in fact what they sounded like, Jade had to stay. It would be immoral not to do something. But, if she was imagining things, Tani would be suffering for nothing.
‘Wake up, Jade.’
‘Sorry. What were you saying?’
‘Your eyes had gone all scary, as if you were blind or something. Why don’t you have a ride, while he’s settled?’ Zoe was being kind now, to both Tani and Jade. The satisfaction at having fixed a rogue pony had cheered her up.
‘OK.’ Jade took Tani’s reins. ‘But not with the standing martingale; I don’t like it.’
‘Fine, whatever — it’s your funeral,’ Zoe muttered, unbuckling the noseband for Jade and unthreading the martingale rings.
‘That’s better, isn’t it?’ Jade laughed, watching Tani stretch out his neck and shake his head.
‘I give up,’ Zoe sighed. ‘By praising him for chucking his nose in the air, you’ve just undone the last half-hour’s work. He thinks he’s the boss again now.’
‘Prove me right,’ Jade whispered to her pony as she mounted. ‘Show Zoe that you don’t need to be bullied.’
For the first circuit of the paddock, Jade was determined to avoid getting into a fight. The more Tani pulled at the bit, the more rein she gave him. She’d never been so gentle and subtle with her commands; she wanted to be the opposite of Zoe. But, as they passed the water trough for the second time, Jade could feel Tani’s frustration from Zoe’s strict riding coiled like a spring inside him: he was ready to shoot up in the air at any moment. She shortened the reins as smoothly as she could.
Feeling the change in pressure on his mouth, Tani snatched at the bit. Trying to go with her pony as he began a sideways jog, Jade couldn’t help jerking a little at the reins. Her commands became clumsier.
‘Bring him to a halt. You’re making him worse now,’ Zoe said, tactless but honest.
‘I’m trying,’ Jade muttered. ‘Steady, boy. Easy does it.’ It was too late for a soothing voice now. The bucking had started.
‘Stop it, Tani,’ Jade growled. ‘Just for once, stop it!’ Embarrassed in front of Zoe, frustrated at everyone, Jade brought the whip down angrily on Tani’s hindquarters.
Perhaps out of surprise, the harassed pony did indeed stop bucking. Although his trot had flattened out to an ugly sort of run, the spring inside him felt like it had gone.
‘It worked!’ Jade called to Zoe.
‘Good for you. More of that and he’ll be fine.’
They’d both spoken too soon. Feeling his rider relax and turn her attention to the other person in the paddock, Tani took advantage. Repaying both riders for their nagging, he threw one last almighty buck. Jade instinctively reached for a handful of mane, but her pony’s neck seemed to have disappeared between his forelegs. That was, coincidentally, the direction she was travelling in, too. The muddy ground met her shoulder all too soon. As she rolled onto her back, the air was smacked out of her lungs. Even through the soft, waterlogged earth, she could feel the rhythm of Tani’s hoof beat as he cantered to the far corner of the paddock, to sulk alone next to the windbreak.
‘You look like a choc-top,’ Zoe said, once she had helped Jade up and decided that no lasting damage had been done.
‘I don’t feel like one,’ Jade said, voice wobbling.
‘It is a bit cold for ice-cream, isn’t it?’ Zoe replied quickly, then laughed at her joke. Jade didn’t think it was that funny.
‘Do you want to get back up, to show him who’s boss?’
‘Tomorrow. I’m a bit too shaky now.’
Jade expected Zoe to lecture her about getting back on the horse, but instead the older girl nodded and asked with some sympathy, ‘How many times has he chucked you off now?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe six or seven?’
‘I think you’re brave to keep trying with him.’
Jade finally smiled.
‘Not again!’ Becca said, seeing Jade covered in mud. ‘Yep. Again.’
‘Poor Jade,’ Laura said.
The girls looked surprisingly comfortable at the kitchen table, steaming cups of hot chocolate and piles of Monopoly money in front of them. Even Cosima seemed happy and relaxed.
‘You must have nine lives, Jade,’ Mr Death said. ‘And some impressive bruises. If you want a bath, help yourself. Zoe can show you where everything is.’
The bathroom was opposite the girls’ bunk-room, below the attic.
‘Yes, please. That would be great.’
‘Follow me then, choc-top,’ Zoe said.
The old iron bath had feet; well, paws really. Jade stroked one of the lion’s paws with her own toe while Zoe explained how temperamental the old taps could be.
‘Don’t be afraid if the pipes make funny noises,’ Zoe said. ‘You’ll be all right if I leave you to it now?’
Jade nodded. There was now a stream of steaming water filling the bath and the pipes were, indeed, noisy: one moment they were creaking like foot steps on old floor boards, the next screaming like fighting cats.
‘Wait, Zoe,’ Jade said.
‘Yeah?’
‘Do you ever hear noises coming from the attic? Noises that aren’t from the pipes?’
Zoe frowned at Jade. ‘What kind of noises?’
‘You know, like voices?’
‘Other than Roland’s, when he’s on the phone?’
Jade paused. She hadn’t considered the phone. ‘Yeah,’ she said faintly.
‘No. There are noises sometimes, though; usually rats. Once there was a possum, too — now that made a huge mess. When it got downstairs, into Cosima’s room, it freaked out and started charging into everything, pooing all over the beds and carpet, breaking stuff. Mum had to get the gun in the end.’
‘She shot a possum inside the house?’
‘Nah, she hit it on the head with the rifle butt. Shooting would’ve been too dangerous.’
‘Whoa.’
‘Yeah, it was a crazy night. And it was just after Cosima had stopped talking. She was supposed to have a “calm, consistent environment” and so Mum goes about beating possums to death in front of her.’
‘Why didn’t you open the windows?’
Zoe gave Jade a pitying look. ‘Have you ever tried shooing a possum out a window? It’s impossible. We had all the windows wide open, but it didn’t understand at all. Way too stupid. Hey, your bath’s getting really deep now.’
