by Lou Kuenzler
“James,” I said. “I…”
“There’s no need for you to say anything,” James interrupted, still keeping his voice low. “I can see it as clear as the nose on my face. You’re not a working boy, Joe. I don’t know what it is you’re hiding. But you’ve never been poor in your life.”
So that’s what he had guessed; not that I was a girl but that I had once been rich.
“I can hear it in the way you talk. I can see it in the way you stand,” he said. “You have so much pride, Joe. It’s like you think you are better than everyone else.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t think I am better than you, James.” There wasn’t a bone in my body that thought that. “You taught me everything. How to care for horses. How to be a stable boy.”
“No real stable boy would answer that old magpie back like you did today,” said James. “It’s like you think you’re her equal.”
“I’m not her equal,” I said. “I’m better than her! Much better. And so are you!”
“In God’s eyes, maybe.” James shrugged. “But it’s the likes of Lady Magpie who rule this world. Even good masters like Squire Gordon. They decide whether I eat or not. Whether I have somewhere safe to sleep. It’s people like them, Joe. People like you…”
I didn’t know what to say. How to begin to explain. If only he’d steal Ginger and run away with me – I could take my time, I could tell him everything. But I knew that he never would.
I stroked Beauty’s head as he nuzzled against me. “You won’t come, will you, James?” I said.
“I can’t.” James sighed. “You can never understand, Joe. You’ve never had to wake up hungry and go to bed again with no food in your belly that night.”
“Yes I have,” I said. “Twice.” The day I’d escaped from Aunt Lavinia in the hay cart and again when Daisy and Doris dressed me in Miss Jessie’s nightdress and I was banished to the loft.
“Twice?” James laughed. “I am talking about every day. My father had nothing, just a skinny horse and a broken-down cart. He was a rag-and-bone man, until he couldn’t pay the grain merchant and had to sell the horse. That was the end of him. Bronchitis. Took him within a month. My mother too.”
“I didn’t know,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” James’s jaw was set hard. “I was lucky. Squire Gordon took me on as a stable lad. But I’m not like you, Joe. Leaving a paid job isn’t a choice for me. In a year or two I hope I can look for a position as head groom somewhere. Until then, I’m stuck here. Being good. Being careful.”
“Fine,” I said. “But you won’t stand in my way, will you? You won’t stop me taking Beauty?”
“I certainly will stop you.” James stood up.
“Just to save yourself and your precious job?” I cried.
“Hush! Do you want to bring the whole house running?” James put his finger to his lips. “It’s to save you, Joe. Horse theft is a serious crime. It doesn’t matter who you are – they’ll throw you in prison. It’s not that long ago they would have hanged you by the neck.”
“They won’t catch me,” I said. “You know how fast Beauty gallops. We’ll hide in the woods. We’ll roam the open roads like gypsies.” My words sounded hollow even to me. It was beginning to sound like the sort of thing Nanny Clay would have rolled her eyes at. A silly, childish dream.
“They’ll find you in hours,” whispered James. “Days at most. Black Beauty is a special horse. Everyone will notice when you ride into a town to buy corn. Every blacksmith in every tiny village for three counties will have heard his description by tomorrow afternoon. What’ll you do when he needs new shoes?”
“I don’t know,” I said desperately. “But I’ve got to try.”
“And get yourself arrested? How will that help Beauty?”
“Stop!” I felt as if I had been thumped in the stomach by a charging bull. But I knew James was right.
“Then … then I’ll leave Beauty here in the stables,” I said, desperately. “But I’ll hide in the fields nearby. I’ll live on berries and fruit. There’s an old shepherd’s hut by the bridge. The roof has fallen in but it will give me some shelter. I’ll watch Beauty go past in the carriage. I’ll creep up here at night. I am not going away without him, James. I can’t.”
“All very well while there are blackberries in the hedges and the weather holds,” said James. “But what about next month when the leaves fall off the trees? Or December and January when the snow comes? What’ll you do then?”
“I’ll be all right,” I said. “I’ll survive.”
James sighed. “You won’t. You’re soft, Joe. You’ll freeze to death. And what good will that do for your precious horse?”
“I don’t know,” I wailed.
“Go to Riverford,” said James. “It’s about ten miles from here as the crow flies.”
“Or as the magpie squawks,” I mumbled, trying to smile.
James ignored me.
“The White Lion have rebuilt their stables after the fire,” he said. “A coaching inn like that is always on the lookout for help – anyone who is handy with the horses – especially if you’re prepared to work cheap in exchange for food and lodgings. Doris from Birtwick has a job there already. You know, the pretty one with dark hair? Daisy’s friend.”
“She’s not that pretty,” I said quickly.
James carried on. “Perhaps if you’re nice, she’ll vouch for you.”
“What about Beauty?” I said.
“I’ll look after him. I give you my solemn promise,” said James. “I’ll even try to persuade Lady Magpie to loosen the bearing reins.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.” I smiled weakly and showed him my scissors. “I went into the tack room and cut all the bearing reins into pieces.”
“Joe, you didn’t!” James looked shocked but he was smiling.
It was chopping up the silly red suit that gave me the idea.
“Lady Magpie always sends her maids into Riverford in the dog cart to buy buttons and lace,” said James. “And the groom drives them. I’ll make sure it’s me and Beauty who come, and that way you can get to see him.”
“Maybe,” I said slowly. It wasn’t perfect but at least I’d get to be with Beauty sometimes. That had to be better than nothing.
“The earl goes to Riverford whenever there’s a horse fair too,” said James. “He always takes a groom in case he buys anything and needs it ridden back.”
“You’ll find me every time? And you’ll keep Beauty safe, James – you promise?”
“I will,” he said. Then he leant into the manger and pulled out a hunk of bread and cheese which he must have hidden away, sure that I’d come into the stables to try and take Beauty tonight. “Good luck, Joe.”
“You too,” I whispered. “And thank you. I’ll see you soon.”
Then James slipped out of the stable, leaving me alone to say goodbye to Black Beauty.
Chapter Twenty-nine
There isn’t much to say about my life at the White Lion – except that I missed Beauty, and I worried about him every single day.
Dick Towler was long gone, thank goodness, sacked for smoking his pipe near a load of straw just two days after the fire. Although Doris did put in a good word for me, it wasn’t needed. The old ostler – Mr Hawkins – remembered how James and I had risked our lives that night, going into the burning building to save Ginger and Beauty.
“I’d be proud to have you here, lad. Proud as a king,” he said.
The work was hard; I don’t know how Towler had ever managed to find time to smoke his wretched pipe, let alone lean against the stable wall chattering to the customers. He must have been even lazier than I thought. I was rushed off my feet; settling strange horses for the night, feeding them, watering them and mucking out the stables so they were clean again for the new arrivals next day. Then the same process began all over again. Visitors rarely stayed more than one night, two at the most; there wasn’t much to do in Riverford – exc
ept twice a year when the big horse fair was in town. Mostly, it was a stopping-off point on the way to somewhere else.
But that suited me. The visiting horses came and went. I cared for them as best as I could, but all they really needed from me was a little kindness, food, water and a dry bed. They did not need my love, and I had none to give. I had left my heart at Earlshall with Beauty. I felt hollow inside. All that was left was the empty ache in my chest.
Night-times were the worst. The other stable lads slept in the attic above the hotel, just like James and I had done on that dreadful night of the fire. But I stayed on my own in the hayloft. I liked the privacy and I wanted to be where I could hear the horses near me. If I couldn’t have Beauty, then this was the next best thing. Listening to their gentle sounds in the darkness helped to soothe me a little. But still, I often did not sleep. Questions flew round and round in my head: How was Beauty faring at Earlshall? What if Lady Magpie had made the bearing reins even tighter than before? Would James be able to keep him safe?
Then, early one morning, after I had been at the White Lion for less than a month, I heard the sound of a horse’s hooves on the stones behind me. I was mucking out a stall and had my back to the stable yard. Before I could turn my head to see who had arrived, I heard a whinny I would recognize anywhere in the world.
“Beauty?” I dropped my pitchfork and spun around. There he was – his eyes bright and his ears pricked, harnessed to the little dog cart without a bearing rein in sight.
“It’s you! It’s really you!” I cried, flinging my arms around his neck. I was so excited, I paid no attention at all to poor James, sitting in the dog cart grinning from ear to ear.
“I thought you might like to see an old friend,” he laughed.
Beauty nuzzled me.
“Thank you,” I said, looking James in the eye at last. “Thank you for bringing him here.”
Before either of us could say another word, Beauty nuzzled me so hard I toppled over backwards.
The stables were quiet that morning for once, and Mr Hawkins said he could spare me for an hour or two.
James and I left the dog cart in the yard. We unharnessed Beauty and led him down to the river where he nibbled the grass while James and I sat on the bank and talked.
Although all the leaves had fallen from the trees, it was one of those beautiful wintery mornings where the sun danced through the bare branches and glistened on the water.
“Lady Magpie has gone to London,” James said excitedly. “At first it was only going to be for a few days, but now the earl has business and they have decided to stay. Apparently there are lots of fashionable parties after Christmas so they are planning to be away well into the new year. Maybe even through the spring…”
“And they didn’t want to take Beauty with them?”
“No. Nor Ginger.” James gave a cheeky grin. “You cannot expect Her Royal Highness Lady Magpie to be seen driving in London with a pair of horses that do not match!”
“Well, quite!” I giggled.
I couldn’t help myself, I had to leap up and throw my arms around Beauty’s neck and hug him all over again.
“She can’t touch you,” I whispered in his silky ear. “At least until the spring.” I felt my chest fill with air and realized I’d been half holding my breath ever since I left him at Earlshall.
“Mr York has gone to London to look after the stables up there,” said James. “They took the two greys and the big carriage.”
“Does that mean you’re in charge of all the horses that have been left behind?” I asked. “Are you head groom of Earlshall while Mr York is away?”
“No.” James kicked his foot against the grass. “Mr York said I could be. Even Earl Westop agreed. Then Lady Magpie stuck her nose in. She said I was too young, so they have asked Reuben Smith to fill in instead.”
“Reuben Smith?” I gasped. I had seen him around Earlshall once or twice. He was a jolly sort of man who always smiled and waved, but the rumour was he had left the paddock gate open once after a night of drinking in the pub. One of the earl’s finest yearlings had escaped and twisted its leg in the marsh. Now Reuben was supposed to keep away from the stables and only do odd jobs on the land.
James shrugged. “Her Ladyship hates me, ever since we argued about the bearing reins. She’d have let one of the jersey cows from the dairy be head groom rather than give me the satisfaction.”
“That is not fair…” James was young but he was one of the most responsible people I had ever met.
“I don’t mind. Not really,” he said. “Reuben’s a nice fellow and he hasn’t touched a drop of drink for nearly three years. While he’s worrying about ordering corn and paying the farrier, I can spend more time with the horses. Young Lord George is home now, and he often takes Ginger out hunting. He pushes her hard. I like to make sure she’s properly cooled off and cared for when she comes back.”
“So George has come home?” I asked, fresh panic swirling inside me.
“Don’t worry,” said James, guessing at once I’d be worried about Beauty; the rumour was that Lady Magpie’s son was a terrible horseman – too rough and too fast. “He only ever rides Ginger as she is broad enough to take his weight. And, if he calls for the carriage at all, he doesn’t ask for the bearing reins as he thinks they make the horses go too slow.”
“There you are, you see, Beauty. Everything is going to be all right.” I kissed the end of his nose and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Even if I couldn’t go back to Earlshall, I knew Beauty would be safe … for the next few months at least.
After James brought Beauty to see me, I began to sleep better at night. I often had long wonderful dreams that I was galloping over the fields on his back … and, once, that we were racing Ginger and James on the common just like we used to.
At last I could relax, knowing Beauty was out of harm’s way. But as I laid one worry to rest, something else began to trouble me.
No matter how short I cut my hair, it was getting harder and harder to disguise the fact that I was a girl. My body seemed to be changing before my very eyes. In places where I had once been skinny and straight, I now had bumps and curves. I had strange tummy aches. Worst of all, my chest had grown. I had once been as flat as any boy, but almost overnight, I grew small round bosoms which I was sure everybody could see.
I began to hunch forward, hang back in the shadows and cross my arms over my chest as much as I could. Then, one evening, as I wrapped leg bandages around a thoroughbred with a bad hock, I had a brilliant idea. I sneaked a spare roll of bandage up to the loft with me that night and wrapped it tightly around my chest to bind my bosoms flat.
“That’s better,” I said to myself as I pulled my waistcoat on next morning.
But it was too late.
Somebody had already noticed the changes in me.
Chapter Thirty
“I don’t know what your game is,” said Doris, “but something is going on!”
She had invited me round to the back of the kitchen to share a hot roll left over from the hotel guests.
“Yesterday you had ’em,” she said. “And now they’re gone!”
She was staring at my chest.
“Had what … exactly?” I could feel myself blushing like a furnace as her eyes bored into me.
“Titties!” She squealed with delight. “Little ones.
Like this.” She dug into her apron pocket, pulled out two more bread rolls and held them up in front of her own enormous breasts. “Plain as molehills in a garden,” she said, giggling. “Me and Daisy always said you was a pretty one. Well, of course you was! I’ve figured it out now.” She poked her finger at me. “Because you, Joe Green, are a girl!”
“A girl?” My heart was beating so fast, I thought it was going to leap right out of my bandaged chest. “What nonsense!” I tried to snort in the gruffest voice I could find.
Doris just smiled. “What I want to know is what you done with ’em!” Before I could stop her, she lu
nged forward, pulled down the front of my shirt and peeped inside.
“Oh … that’s clever, that is!” She whistled. “Bandages!”
“Please don’t tell anyone. I’ll lose my job,” I begged, pulling my shirt straight.
“Chambermaid’s honour,” Doris nodded. “But you’ll have to tell me the truth.”
“I – I’m not Joe Green,” I whispered. What else could I say? It was over. “My name is Josephine… I’m a girl.”
Then, taking both of us completely by surprise, I burst into floods of tears. “And I’m … bleeding too … down there.” I pointed to my breeches.
“Your monthlies! Oh, Josie, you poor thing.” She scooped me up into a big warm hug. “You don’t mind if I call you Josie, do you?”
“No.” I tried to smile, but it only made me cry even more. Nobody had called me Josie since Nanny Clay.
That evening Doris came up to the loft with a cold lamb chop, three potatoes and a dish of rice pudding with two spoons.
She also had some strips of thick cotton for me to stuff into my knickers.
“Thank you.” I took the cotton gratefully.
“Tough work being a girl, ain’t it?” Doris winked. “Not that you’d know much about that eh, Joe Green? You’re a dark horse, you are.”
Her big eyes were sparkling with excitement and I saw now why James had said she was pretty. Her whole face lit up and there was something so cheeky about her, I couldn’t help but smile.
“Go on then,” she said, taking a bite out of the lamb chop and passing it on to me. “I want to hear the whole story.”
So I told her everything. About Father dying. Even about Mother running off to London when I was just a tiny baby. I told her how beautiful Mother had been and described the picture hanging in the nursery.
“You must miss her something terrible,” said Doris.
“I just wish I’d had the chance to get to know her,” I said and Doris squeezed my hand. I had never said that out loud to anyone before.
