Chocolate Box Girls: Coco Caramel (24 page)

I guess I hate goodbyes as well.

A week ago we took Honey to Heathrow to
catch her flight to Sydney. Honey looked small, lost, alone as she walked out through
the security gates, and I panicked suddenly that we might lose her forever. Living with
a stormcloud like Honey has never been easy, but I don’t think I will ever get
used to her not being around. In some ways, this has been the worst week of my life.

In other ways, it has been the best.

As I play, a pony comes towards me through
the long grass, a rough-coated bay with a wild, dark mane and tail, her eyes soft and
shining. Caramel watches me solemnly
for a while, ears pricked as I
play. It turns out that she really was Jasmine’s birthday pony, but of course
there will be no room for her at Jas and Lawrie’s gran’s house. Fitting
three people and a skinny mongrel in is one thing; finding space for an Exmoor pony is
something else entirely.

‘You sent me cupcakes and jasmine
flowers,’ the little girl explained to me last week. ‘Before you even met
me. That was kind. And you saved Caramel and kept her safe, so … will you look
after her for me now? Please?’

I promised that I would.

Just a few weeks ago I thought that if I had
Caramel, all my troubles would be over; she’s mine now, pretty much, but I have a
feeling my troubles are just beginning. I said this to Honey at the airport last week,
and she laughed and told me that I’d be fine, that I was just growing up. Well,
maybe.

I slide down to the ground, put my violin
away and take Caramel’s halter, leading her up to the stable she shares with
Humbug the sheep. I saddle her carefully, adjust her reins and swing up on to her back,
and together we walk out through the field gate heading down, slowly, towards the
beach.

Caramel tosses her head in the wind and
skitters a little as her hooves sink into the sand. We turn to face the vast shimmering
expanse of ocean, now streaked with red and gold as the sun drops steadily lower in the
sky, and I think of another afternoon, riding Caramel across the moors with
Lawrie’s arms round me. Then I shake the memory free and press my heels in gently
and we bound forward into a canter, out along the beach, heads down, happy, glad to be
alive.