Sea Horses: the Talisman

by Louise Cooper

  ‘Yeah. See you tomorrow.’

  ‘Maybe.’ She knew that she would come, of course, but she didn’t want him to take it for granted.

  She crossed the yard and went out of the gate, then as soon as she was out of sight of Joel she started to run down the path towards Chapel Cottage. By the time she reached the gate, tears were streaming down her face. Nan was in the kitchen, but Tamzin rushed past and up the stairs to her bedroom, where she flung herself face-down on the bed and cried her heart out.

  Nan came up to find her a couple of minutes later. ‘Tamzin, pet – whatever’s wrong? Has something happened?’

  Her voice was full of concern, which only made Tamzin feel worse. ‘Oh, Nan,’ she sobbed. ‘It’s so unfair!’

  ‘What is, love? Come on. Sit up and dry your eyes, then tell me all about it.’

  Tamzin did. Nan listened to the whole story then said, ‘Do you know what, pet? I think it’s just plain, old-fashioned jealousy.’

  ‘I know I’m jealous,’ Tamzin said, ‘but –’

  ‘No, no. I don’t mean you. I mean this girl, Marga. She’s jealous of you.’

  Tamzin blinked, astonished. ‘Of me? Why ever should she be? She’s got her own pony and she’s a brilliant rider.’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Nan, ‘but from what you’ve said, it doesn’t sound as if she’s very happy at home. And she hasn’t got many friends – which isn’t surprising if she behaves the way she did today. You’re a happy sort of person and she envies that, so she’s trying to spite you by stealing your friend Joel and spoiling the Fun Day for you.’ Nan sighed. ‘Some people are just like that, and you can’t make them change.’

  ‘But what shall I do?’ Tamzin asked helplessly. ‘Joel thinks she’s wonderful. It’s almost as if he doesn’t even like me any more.’

  ‘Oh, he does,’ said Nan. ‘He’s a bit dazzled by Marga because she rides so well and owns a really good horse. But he’ll see through her eventually. You’ve just got to be patient for a while.’

  Tamzin wiped her eyes and sniffed. ‘The Fun Day isn’t going to be any fun with her around. I don’t think I want to be in it now.’

  ‘Of course you do,’ Nan reassured. ‘It’s your day just as much as hers, and you’re going to enjoy every moment. Be polite to Marga but don’t let her get you involved in any more quarrels. After all, if you stay away, she’ll think she’s won, won’t she? And that’s exactly what she wants.’

  It was wise advice and Tamzin resolved to take it. She understood Marga now, and she wouldn’t let her win. In fact, she thought, she could almost feel sorry for her.

  She managed a watery smile and said, ‘At least she’s not in the musical ride.’

  ‘There you are, then. All you have to do is avoid her as much as you can, and everything will be all right.’ Nan smiled. ‘Feeling better? Good. Then let’s go downstairs and have some tea. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.’

  With only two days to go before the Fun Day, Tamzin was keyed up with nervous excitement.

  She had done her best to take Nan’s advice and so far it seemed to be working. Mr and Mrs Richards had not banned Moonlight from the event. Mrs Richards was keeping a close eye on him but Tamzin knew there would be no more trouble, and she was right. Joel had said no more about the incident and, as for Marga – well, Tamzin was baffled. Marga acted as though nothing at all had happened. Whenever they met at the stables she was perfectly friendly, and she seemed not even to notice Tamzin’s coolness towards her.

  Moonlight, though, had developed a real aversion to Marga. It was hardly surprising after what she had done, and Tamzin took good care to keep him as far away from her as possible. That was not too difficult, for whenever Marga came to the stables she concentrated on practising for the jumping competition, while Tamzin’s team rehearsed the musical ride in a different paddock.

  Marga was already taking Lossie over the jumps when Tamzin arrived at the stables that morning. Moonlight was in his stall; Tamzin groomed him, then as she led him outside for saddling, Marga and Lossie came into the yard.

  ‘Hi.’ Marga smiled as she always did, and slid from Lossie’s back. Tamzin nodded but didn’t say anything, and Moonlight became restless, sidestepping and shaking his head.

  ‘Whoa, Moonlight, steady.’ Tamzin stroked the pony to calm him as Marga led Lossie past. Then suddenly the sun came out through a break in the clouds. Light spread across the yard – and Tamzin saw a bright glint of blue at Marga’s wrist.

  Blue…

  She froze, staring. Then she saw the familiar silver chain that had slipped down from under Marga’s jacket sleeve.

  In a voice shaking with shock, Tamzin said, ‘You’ve got my bracelet.’

  Marga stopped, blinked, smiled. ‘What?’ she said pleasantly.

  ‘My bracelet!’ Shock started to give way to rage, and Tamzin took a step towards the other girl. ‘The one I lost at the animal sanctuary – you found it and you didn’t give it back!’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Marga’s face was innocent. ‘Do you mean this?’

  She held up her wrist, clearly displaying the fragment of blue glass attached to the chain.

  ‘Yes. It’s mine, and you know it is!’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Marga sweetly, ‘but it isn’t. My aunt sent it to me for Christmas. It’s nice, isn’t it?’ She waggled her hand so that the glass swung and glittered in the sunlight. She was still smiling but now the smile was sly and taunting.

  Tamzin said savagely, ‘Your aunt didn’t send it to you. That bracelet is mine!’

  Marga’s expression changed. ‘Are you calling me a liar?’ she demanded indignantly.

  ‘Yes!’ At that moment Tamzin saw Joel coming towards them, and in relief she swung round. ‘Joel – Joel, quickly!’

  ‘What’s up?’ Joel asked.

  ‘You remember my bracelet, don’t you? The one I lost?’

  ‘Yes, of course I do,’ said Joel.

  ‘Well, look at Marga’s wrist. She’s got it! And she’s trying to pretend it’s hers!’

  ‘What?’ Joel looked at Marga in surprise.

  Marga sighed and held her arm out. ‘Like I keep trying to tell Tamzin, it was a Christmas present,’ she said. ‘Maybe it looks a bit like the one she lost, but it’s definitely mine.’

  Joel looked at the bracelet. Then he looked at Marga’s face. He was about to reply… but as his eyes met hers, he stopped, as if something had frozen him in mid-movement. Marga was staring at him. Smiling that sly smile.

  Joel came back to life like someone waking from a dream. In a strange, remote voice that didn’t sound at all like his own, he said, ‘It is a bit like Tamzin’s. But I can see it isn’t the same one. Sorry, Tam.’ But he didn’t look at her as he said it; he was still gazing at Marga as if transfixed. ‘It’s definitely not your bracelet.’

  Marga kept on smiling. Only now the smile had triumph in it too.

  Tamzin couldn’t bear to stay at the stables. She had to get away; from Marga, from Joel, from everything. She needed to talk to Nan. And she needed to think.

  She made a feeble excuse which Joel accepted as if he had hardly heard it, and left as soon as she could. In the last few minutes the clouds had thickened again, blotting out the sun completely. The sky was starting to look heavy and threatening, and rain spattered in her face as she hurried along the path. In the distance she could hear the sea roaring. It sounded menacing and dangerous, and the echoes that bounced between the steep valley sides made her feel as if she was surrounded by crashing breakers. Tamzin threw a frightened glance over her shoulder, half expecting to see her nightmare coming true and a wall of water rushing up behind her. There was nothing there. But the frowning sky seemed to press down on her, and everything was grey.

  She started to walk faster, then to jog, and by the time Chapel Cottage came in sight she was running. In at the gate she went, desperate to find Nan and tell her everything. She turned the back door knob – but the door was loc
ked.

  ‘Oh, no…’ Nan wasn’t expecting her back, of course, and Tamzin suddenly remembered her saying that she was going to Truro this morning. Heart thudding, she fumbled in her jeans pocket for her own key and let herself into the house.

  It was cold inside, as if the greyness of the day had seeped in through the walls. Tamzin called Baggins but he didn’t come trotting to greet her. He must be out mousing. She was completely alone.

  Her heart wasn’t just thudding now, it was pounding, and she rushed upstairs to her room. Her own and Nan’s paintings surrounded her on every wall: blue horses, blue sea, blue sky. But they weren’t enough. Feverishly Tamzin rummaged in her wardrobe and chest of drawers, pulling out every blue thing she could find. She changed her navy jeans for a paler blue pair – they weren’t as warm, but she didn’t care – and added a blue blouse to the blue T-shirt and fleece she was already wearing. Then she put the rest of the things on hangers and festooned them around the bedroom wherever there was spare space. Everything, everything must be blue. Only then would she feel safe.

  At last it was done and Tamzin sank on to her bed, facing the biggest picture of all: Nan’s painting of a horse galloping out of a moonlit sea. She loved this one the best, and looking at it usually made her feel calmer. Today, though, the painting’s magic wasn’t working.

  Tamzin gazed at it and spoke aloud, as if the horse could hear her. ‘It is my bracelet. I couldn’t possibly have made a mistake. Joel knew it too, but when he looked at her, she… she somehow made him say it wasn’t. She’s got some kind of power and she’s using it on Joel. But why?’ A shudder went through her. ‘You know the truth, Blue Horse. If only you could tell me. What does Marga want? Who is she?’

  She was desperately willing something miraculous to happen: for the horse in the picture to come alive, perhaps, or to hear a voice whispering the answer in her mind. But there was no miracle. The painting was just a painting, and the only sounds she heard were a window rattling somewhere and, far off, the growl of the sea.

  She was sure of one thing, though. There was a connection between Marga and the Grey Horse. She couldn’t imagine what the connection could be but she was absolutely certain that Marga wanted to harm her, and that the Grey Horse was somehow involved. And she was very, very frightened.

  Suddenly her ears picked up a new sound. It was familiar, and coming nearer – Tamzin leaped up and ran to the window just in time to see Nan’s car appearing. Giddy with relief she started for the stairs, then paused at the door and looked back at the painting.

  ‘Thank you!’ she said fervently, and ran from the room.

  Nan was taking her coat off in the hall when Tamzin came rushing down the stairs. One look at her face told Nan that something was very wrong, and she made Tamzin sit down at the kitchen table, get her breath back and start the story from the beginning. By the time it was finished Tamzin was nearly in tears. Nan put a cup of hot chocolate in front of her, then sat down opposite her and took hold of her hands.

  ‘All right.’ Her tone was level but her eyes were very intent. ‘Let’s look at this more closely. What do you know about Marga?’

  ‘Not much,’ Tamzin told her. ‘She only started at my school a few weeks before the end of term. Her family just moved here.’

  ‘To the village?’

  ‘No – somewhere outside. I’m not sure where. And I don’t know where they came from before that.’

  ‘I see,’ said Nan. ‘Does she talk about her family much?’

  Tamzin shook her head. ‘She lives with her mother but she’s never mentioned anyone else.’ She frowned.

  ‘Mmm…’ Nan mused. ‘Marga’s an unusual name. Is it short for anything?’

  ‘Margaret, I suppose,’ said Tamzin. ‘I’ve never asked.’

  Nan was silent for a moment or two. Then she said, very seriously, ‘Tamzin, I think you’re right. Marga does want to hurt you in some way – and I think she could be dangerous.’

  Tamzin swallowed. ‘And… the Grey Horse?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. I’m sure there’s a link, though I don’t know what it is.’ Nan’s mouth set in a grim line. ‘If Marga is planning something, then the Pony Fun Day is the obvious time and place for her to do it.’

  ‘Maybe I shouldn’t take part?’ Tamzin said.

  ‘No, you should. If you back out she’ll only wait for another opportunity, and we might not be ready next time. You must be there – but be very careful. Wear blue. And stay close to Moonlight.’

  ‘Moonlight?’ Tamzin’s eyes widened alertly. ‘You mean…’

  ‘I mean, I know you believe that Moonlight isn’t just an ordinary pony and I agree with you. After all, why would Marga have tried to get him banned from the Fun Day unless he was special in some way?’

  Tamzin nodded. She hadn’t realized that Nan knew – or had guessed – her feelings about Moonlight. Looking up, she said, ‘Will you be there too, Nan?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Nan’s voice was firm. ‘I’ll be there every moment of the day. And I’ll be keeping watch.’

  The next day it rained and rained and rained. Staring out of the sitting room-window at the downpour, Tamzin didn’t know whether she was glad or sorry. In one sense, the thought that the Fun Day might have to be cancelled because of the weather lifted a huge weight of worry from her mind. On the other hand, though, she remembered Nan’s words: ‘… she’ll only wait for another opportunity, and we might not be ready next time’. The thought of what Marga might be planning to do tomorrow was nerve-racking. But at least she would face it and know the worst. That, surely, was better than putting it off.

  In the afternoon the rain eased a little, and in Wellingtons and waterproofs Tamzin went to the stables. To her relief Marga was not there, and despite the wet conditions she and Joel managed a last run-through of the musical ride routine. Without Marga to influence him Joel seemed much more like his old self and, by the time she returned to Chapel Cottage, Tamzin was feeling steady and resolved, and prepared for whatever might happen tomorrow.

  Soon after darkness fell the rain stopped altogether. Even the sea seemed to have calmed down, and everything was silent and still. As she got ready for bed it occurred to Tamzin that the world around her seemed to be holding its breath, as if it was waiting for something to happen. She didn’t like that thought but though she tried to forget about it, it wouldn’t go away.

  She tossed and turned restlessly all night until at last she woke up in the dark and knew that she wouldn’t get back to sleep again. Switching on her bedside lamp, she saw that her watch said a quarter to six. It wouldn’t be daylight for another two hours. She couldn’t just lie here until then. Hopeless to try to read; she wouldn’t be able to concentrate. She needed to do something.

  Across the room, on her chest of drawers, she saw the box of art materials that Nan had given her for Christmas. Maybe she could start a new picture? Even if it turned out badly it would help to keep her dark, fearful thoughts at bay.

  Tamzin dressed quietly then picked up her box and tiptoed downstairs. Baggins was very surprised to see her, and followed her into Nan’s studio where she laid a sheet of paper from her sketchpad on the big table and sat down to start work.

  She planned to draw a horse grazing. It would be good practice, for getting the proper neck angle was always difficult. But the outline wouldn’t come right. This horse did not want to graze; her pencil kept making the wrong move, as if something else was forcing her hand. Tamzin frowned, determined not to be defeated, and worked on. But she was tired. Everything seemed a little unreal, and her mind drifted into a dreamy state, half asleep and half awake.

  Nan found her there at seven-thirty, sound asleep at the table with her head pillowed on her arms and the picture beside her. The picture wasn’t finished, but the drawing was complete and Tamzin had started to paint in the colours. It showed not one horse, but two, facing each other with their heads high as though in challenge. One horse was blue, the other was grey. They were stand
ing at the edge of a cliff with a dark, stormy sky behind them, and in the background was a ruined building with a tall chimney.

  Nan picked up the painting and stared at it. Then, very quietly, she slipped it out of sight behind a stack of her own drawings. Returning to the table she took another sheet from Tamzin’s sketchbook and drew a few quick, rough lines on it before shaking Tamzin gently by the shoulder.

  ‘Mmmn…?’ Tamzin raised her head and blinked owlishly. ‘Nan…’

  ‘Time to wake up, pet.’ Nan smiled at her.

  ‘Oh…’ Rubbing her eyes, Tamzin saw where she was and remembered. ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ she said. ‘I thought maybe if I tried to draw something, it might…’ She yawned. ‘Did I draw anything? I’m sure I started.’

  ‘You did, love, but you didn’t get very far,’ said Nan, crossing her fingers behind her back and pointing to the table with her other hand. ‘Look. Just a few lines on your sketchpad.

  I expect you nodded off within minutes.’

  Tamzin laughed shakily. ‘How silly!’

  ‘Well, it’s understandable. Now listen, it’s nearly breakfast time, so why don’t you go and put the kettle on and I’ll put your paints away for you.’

  ‘All right.’ Tamzin yawned again. ‘Oh… ’scuse me!’

  ‘Tea and toast, and a poached egg,’ Nan said firmly. ‘Off you go!’

  Tamzin went, with Baggins trotting after her in hope of food. Nan waited until she disappeared then took the picture from its hiding place. She gazed at it. She frowned. And a tense, chilly sensation settled somewhere under her heart.

  As soon as they had finished breakfast, Tamzin and Nan set off for the stables. Tamzin, wearing blue jeans and a blue sweater, felt as if her stomach was full of little wheels all turning and grinding together. Nan seemed much calmer but her eyes were quick and alert as they walked up the valley. She was carrying packed lunches and several sheets of drawing paper rolled up and shoved into her bag. When Tamzin asked what they were for, she replied lightly, ‘Oh, I thought I might make a few sketches while I’m watching the events.’ She said nothing about Tamzin’s picture, which was hidden inside the roll.