Joe, she realized. It had to be. Her uncle wouldn’t have left them and she could hardly imagine Luke doing such a thing. She picked them up, feeling slightly warmer inside. Thank you, she told Joe silently, imagining him in one of the bedrooms downstairs.
Ten minutes later, she was back in bed. The empty crisp packet and biscuit wrapper lay on her bedside table. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she stared out of the window, thinking about her new life. She wasn’t usually the sort of person who moaned. She was good at getting on with things. But how could she get on with living here? She didn’t know the answer to that.
It was seven o’clock when Ellie woke again and she could hear the horses kicking their stable doors and whickering. She got out of bed, her feet freezing on the cold floor, and looked down at the stables.
Len, Luke and Joe were just leaving the house, and Stuart and the other grooms were arriving. Ellie hesitated and then opened one of the drawers and pulled out her jodhpurs and a fleece. She had never been lazy in her life, and although she had no intention of riding the ponies as her uncle had ordered she also had no intention of being the only person in the house who didn’t help.
When she walked out on the yard, she wondered what reaction she would get. Luke was the first to see her. ‘Got over your tantrum, have you?’
She gave him what she hoped was a withering look, but Luke just laughed and turned away.
Her uncle was standing by the water trough. Steeling herself, Ellie walked over.
‘So you’ve come out.’ His voice was curt.
‘What would you like me to do?’ she spoke steadily, although her heart was beating fast.
‘Fill the water buckets.’ Len motioned with his thumb to the stables to the right. ‘Start that side and work your way round.’ She started off. He called after her. ‘And make sure you scrub out every one.’
Len was a hard taskmaster and Ellie soon saw why everyone did as he said. He had a fierce temper and he could rip people to shreds with his tongue when his anger was roused – a horse with hooves not properly picked out, a stable not bedded down to his exacting standards, straw blowing loose on the yard. If something wasn’t right he soon let everyone know about it. In that first morning, Ellie quickly learnt to be careful. After the horses had been fed, the stalls mucked out and the yard swept, Len and Luke took two of the horses out into the ring to school them while the grooms had their breakfast, and Joe showed Ellie around, introducing her to the few livery clients who were about and showing her all the horses who were still in the stables.
‘These are some of the stars of the yard,’ he said, pointing out the horses in the stables round the courtyard. ‘Although they’re not looking their best at the moment. The ponies go to shows all through the winter but most of the horses have a break until their classes start again in March. You’ll have to imagine them with a lot more muscle and a shine to their coats.’ Joe gestured towards a massive grey with a noble head. ‘This is Hereward, he’s a heavyweight hunter. He’s got a real name for himself on the county circuit. And this one …’ He went to the smaller bright bay in the next box. ‘This is Gabriel. He’s an Intermediate working hunter and one of our rising stars. He got his ticket to the Horse of the Year first time out –’
‘Whoa – stop!’ interrupted Ellie, putting up her hands at the flood of information. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s the difference between a hunter and a working hunter? And what’s a ticket?’
Joe grinned. ‘Oh, wow. You have got a lot to learn! OK. Hunter classes are show classes. The horses are ridden round the ring and they are judged on how suited they are to being hunters; the judges give them marks for how they move, what they look like and what they are like when they are ridden. Working hunters are kind of the same but they have to do a course of jumps as well, not show jumps but rustic ones – and they get marks for that. There are other types of classes too for hacks and riding horses; they look different from hunters.’
He moved along to the stable next to Gabriel where there was a beautiful dapple-grey mare with a fine, elegant head. ‘Starlight here is a hack. Dad rides her.’ He rubbed the mare’s neck and she nuzzled him. ‘She’s done really well. She won Supreme Champion at the Horse of the Year show last October for the second year running. The aim of everyone showing is to qualify for the Horse of the Year show. When you qualify, people say that you’ve got your ticket. There are other important shows too. For the ponies there are the BSPS –’ Joe caught Ellie’s frown and grinned. ‘Sorry! I mean, the British Show Pony Society winter and summer championships, as well as some other big shows. The ponies we have here are all show hunter ponies or working hunter ponies. Luke and I ride them.’ He shot her a sideways look. ‘Though Dad was hoping you would ride the smaller ones now.’
‘He can hope,’ muttered Ellie.
Joe looked at her curiously. ‘Don’t you like riding? Is that it? Luke reckons you must be scared.’
Ellie felt a flash of annoyance. ‘I’m not scared. I love riding. I just don’t like being bossed around.’
‘You’ll have to get used to that staying here,’ Joe commented drily.
They walked round the rest of the boxes with Joe reeling off the names of the horses, and then they went to the livery barn. ‘The liveries are all show animals,’ Joe explained. ‘Dad produces them – he teaches the riders, gets the horses into condition and takes them to shows. If the owners can’t ride them, we do. We also have some horses like Gabriel whose owners never ride them; they just like owning horses and watching them at shows. They pay for Dad to produce them.’
Finally, they went to the pony horse barn. Ellie saw the beautiful dark bay pony that Joe had been riding the day before. ‘He’s so lovely,’ she said, going over to him. The pony moved away and stood at the back of the stall, his expression aloof.
‘He’s a looker all right but not that friendly,’ said Joe. ‘Not like Barney here.’ He went up to the liver-chestnut pony in the opposite stall who was pawing at the ground. As soon as Joe reached him, the pony butted him with his head.
Joe pointed out the clips on the stable lock. ‘He’s a right Houdini – escapes at a moment’s notice. He’s even learnt to let the other horses out. He pulls back their bolts with his teeth and kicks their doors until the kick bolt at the bottom flips over. It’s really important you put the extra locks on his door if you come out.’ Joe rubbed the gelding’s ears. ‘You’re a nightmare, aren’t you, Barney?’ he said with a grin. ‘He’s brilliant to ride, though, and won at the Horse of the Year. Dad thinks he and Picasso are both going to have a stellar year.’
‘So what about the other ponies?’ asked Ellie, wandering down the aisle.
‘That’s Milly.’ Joe pointed to a small bright chestnut with a flaxen mane who looked about 13.2 hands high. ‘She’s a show hunter pony. And that’s Gem next to her, another show hunter pony. He’s only four, but Dad wants to get him out to a few shows this year so he can get used to the atmosphere. And this is Merlin.’ Joe’s eyes took on a new warmth as he walked over to the old bay pony. He was only about 12.2 hands high, too small to even look properly over his stall door.
Ellie leant over and patted him. ‘Who does he belong to?’
‘Well, he’s pretty much mine. He’s been here longer than any other horse or pony. He’s twenty now and I learnt to ride on him. Luckily, he’s good if we have kids come for showing lessons who can’t bring their own ponies for some reason, and he’s a good companion to the other horses. He’s so calm he can be turned out with anyone. That’s why Dad lets him stay. I’m glad. I never want him to go.’ Joe rubbed Merlin’s neck. ‘You and me go back a long way, don’t we, lad?’
Ellie saw the affection in Joe’s eyes and smiled. She could see that he felt the same way about horses and ponies as she did.
The two of them finally headed out of the barn. The grooms were just coming out of the tackroom, having finished their breakfast. As well as Stuart, there was red-headed Helen,
who was Stuart’s girlfriend, and Sasha, who looked about eighteen, with straightened blonde hair and wide-set eyes in a pretty face. Ellie was observant and saw that Sasha was flirting with Luke all the time. Not that Luke seems to mind, Ellie noted.
‘It’s riding time now,’ Joe explained to Ellie. ‘We prepare the horses that are to be ridden today. Any horses who are being rested need to be turned out. Stuart and Dad work out which horses will be doing what and write it up on the noticeboard outside the tackroom. The afternoons are usually taken up with working the youngsters, grooming, trimming, clipping, and with Dad teaching people.’
‘What shall I do?’ Ellie asked.
‘Help get the horses ready. We don’t groom properly until the afternoon, we just give them a quick tidy-up before they’re ridden. Stuart will show you what to do. I’d better get Barney out and start riding or Dad’ll go mad.’
At Hereward’s stable, Stuart showed Ellie how Len liked the horses to be got ready for exercise in the mornings. ‘If you could sort out Picasso that would be a help,’ he said to her once they had finished Hereward. ‘Just watch yourself when you’re oiling his back hooves. He got bitten by a snake when he was younger and he’s likely to jump a bit if he sees the straw moving behind him.’
Ellie went to the pony barn and set to work on Picasso. She soon found herself enjoying it as she brushed him over quickly, untangled his tail, put a tail bandage on and picked his feet out as Stuart had shown her. She finished by carefully putting hoof oil on his hooves and then rugged him up again. He stood quietly, not trying to nuzzle her or seek contact, and when she patted him she had the feeling he was tolerating it rather than enjoying it.
‘I’m guessing you don’t really like people, do you, boy?’ she murmured. The pony regarded her, neither aggressive nor friendly. Just slightly guarded. For a moment, Ellie got the impression of an invisible prickly cloud of energy surrounding his body, keeping people away.
She often got strange feelings like that about animals. She had done ever since she could remember. Sometimes she felt she could even tell when they were ill and what the matter was with them. She’d told her dad about it when she was little, but he’d just smiled and said it was her imagination. Ever since then, she’d tried to ignore the sensation, but sometimes, when she was alone like this with an animal, she got feelings that were so strong they were very hard to dismiss.
Shaking her head at herself, she picked up the grooming kit and went to Milly’s stall. In contrast to Picasso, Milly was a feisty ball of energy who didn’t want to keep still for a second; she scraped her hoof on the floor and fidgeted around, grabbing at Ellie’s coat with her teeth. But Ellie didn’t mind; it made her feel that tiny bit more at peace to be around ponies again, breathing in their sweet smell and making them look good. After a while, she heard Joe calling her.
He was standing outside with Barney. ‘I’m going to ride Picasso now. Would you mind untacking Barney for me?’
‘Sure.’ Ellie took the chestnut pony back to his stall. His saddle patch was damp with sweat but the rest of him was fine. She rubbed him down and rugged him up. He chewed thoughtfully at the wood on his stable door. ‘Stop it!’ she scolded.
He gave her a mischievous look from under his long forelock and proceeded to use his teeth to pull at the large plastic manger where his feed went out of its holder. He dropped it on the floor with a clatter.
‘Barney!’ Ellie took it from him and placed it back. Then she returned his tack to the tackroom and went to see what else she could help with.
Stuart, Helen and Sasha had got ready the horses that were going to be schooled and had taken three of the younger horses out for a hack. Ellie ended up sweeping round the muck heap. From there, she could see the rings, Joe riding Picasso and Luke riding Gabriel. Len had put three jumps out and was watching Joe and Luke ride over them. Ellie could hear his broad voice as he turned his attention on Luke whose horse was rushing slightly at the fences.
‘Get him up to the bit. Circle him. Circle! Get him going forward! You’re riding like a ruddy girl. Bring him round again.’
Luke didn’t look bothered at all by Len’s criticisms. He circled Gabriel, riding him through a series of transitions – walk to canter, canter to walk, trot to halt – asking for a new pace every few strides.
Ellie paused to watch. It was hard to tell who was the better rider, Luke or Joe. Joe was softer and lighter on the horses, asking, not telling, them what to do, and Picasso was going beautifully for him again, just as he had done the day before. But Ellie could see that Luke was also really good. He appeared to have perfect balance, controlling the horse with his long legs and strong seat. He rode effortlessly and without a hint of fear. When Gabriel was steady and listening again, Luke cantered him towards the fences and he cleared them perfectly.
‘Now, that’s better!’ Len said approvingly.
Luke nodded. ‘Put them up. He feels like he could jump six foot today.’
‘He’s not a flamin’ show jumper,’ Len responded.
‘He’d jump it, though,’ Luke said with a grin. ‘So would I.’
‘Aye, well, we all know you’re a bloody lunatic.’ Len grunted, but as he turned away Ellie saw a certain look of satisfaction on his face. She could see he liked Luke’s style. His expression changed, though, as he turned to concentrate on Joe.
‘Figure of eight at trot and canter, simple change,’ he snapped as Joe trotted into the middle. ‘And keep the contact with those reins!’
Joe concentrated hard, his face serious. When Len was coaching him, there was none of Len and Luke’s jokey backchat.
By the time Ellie had finished sweeping, the horses were both working to Len’s satisfaction. ‘That’ll do for Gabriel,’ he said to Luke. ‘Take him in. Joe, you stay for another five minutes.’
Luke rode out of the school and Pip, who had been waiting by the barn, came trotting over, stumpy blonde tail wagging. Luke’s eyes passed over Ellie as if she was of no more interest than a bug. But then his hand went to his breeches’ pocket. He fished his mobile out. It was buzzing. Swinging his right leg over Gabriel’s neck, he jumped down and threw the reins to her. ‘Here. I’ve got a call. Take him.’
‘And what did your last slave die of?’ she muttered, grabbing Gabriel. Luke wasn’t listening. He’d already taken his hat off and flicked the phone open.
‘Yeah? Oh, hi, babe,’ he said, his voice suddenly warm. ‘How are you doing?’ There was a silence and then he gave a short laugh. ‘Yeah. Me too.’
Luke sauntered up and down, running a hand through his dark hair. Ellie shot him a glare. Suddenly the phone buzzed again. Luke checked the display as he was talking.
‘Sorry, look, Issy. I’ve got to run. Catch you later. Yeah, I will. Missing you already.’ He clicked the END CALL button and then clicked CALL ANSWER. ‘Hi, Jodie,’ he said. ‘Long time no see. So where have you been hiding yourself?’
Ellie rolled her eyes. Honestly! Gabriel rubbed his face against her and she patted his neck. ‘Come on, I’ll take you to your stable.’
Just then, Stuart, Helen and Sasha came back. But as they reached the yard there was a clatter of hooves and two chestnut ponies came trotting out of the pony barn.
‘Barney’s out!’ shouted Stuart in alarm.
‘So’s Milly!’ cried Helen, already jumping off the horse she was riding and chucking the reins to Sasha.
Ellie’s hand flew to her mouth, as she instantly realized what had happened. She’d forgotten Joe’s warning about putting the extra lock on Barney’s door. ‘Here!’ she gasped, pushing Gabriel’s reins into Luke’s hands.
‘What are you doing?’ Luke demanded.
‘Barney and Milly have got out!’
She raced to help. The two ponies were dodging out of the way of Stuart and Helen. Barney trotted round, tail and head held high. Milly cantered to a patch of grass and began to grab at it.
‘Here, boy,’ said Helen, approaching Barney with her hand outstretched.
But he just shook his head and trotted away, while Milly let Stuart get within a few metres and then shied and trotted after Barney. Ellie tried to head her off, but she plunged away, stopping only to investigate an empty bucket on its side. As she did so, she stepped through the metal handle. Giving a snort, she jumped back with it caught round her hoof. She ran backwards in alarm, stopping only when she reached the fence and then stamping until it came off. Ellie stood helplessly, not knowing what to do. From behind her she could hear Len swearing loudly. He had heard the noise and come out of the ring with Joe to see what the commotion was about.
‘What the flamin’ heck’s going on? Who let that ruddy pony out?’ he bellowed. ‘And why are you all standing round like gormless halfwits? Someone get hold of them NOW!’
Stuart had disappeared into the barn and was coming out with a feedbucket and two leadropes. He rattled the pony nuts. ‘Here, Barney lad. Come on. Here you go.’ Barney stopped trotting round and pricked his ears. With a greedy whinny, he cantered over and thrust his head into the bucket. Stuart quickly threw the rope round his neck and Helen ran over to grab hold of him, while Stuart went to tempt Milly.
‘Got you,’ he said as Milly put her head in the bucket too.
‘I’ll take her,’ Ellie offered.
‘Oh, no,’ Len said, pointing his finger at her. ‘You’re going nowhere, miss. I want to know exactly how that pony got out of his stable.’
Ellie met her uncle’s furious gaze. ‘Um … I … well …’
‘It wasn’t Ellie’s fault,’ Joe jumped in. ‘Don’t blame her, Dad. I didn’t warn her about Barney and the locks.’
Ellie looked at him swiftly.
Len’s eyes narrowed. ‘How could you be so daft? You should have told her. You know no one works in that barn without knowing about the locks. Imagine if the ponies had got out on the road. As it is, the mare’s probably lamed herself. Haven’t you got a brain cell in that useless head of yours? Thick as two bloody planks you are. Flamin’ –’
Ellie was unable to bear Joe being shouted at because of her for a second longer. ‘It wasn’t Joe’s fault!’ she burst out. ‘He did tell me. I forgot.’
Loving Spirit Page 3
