Sea Horses (5 page)

It was a horse. There could be no doubt of it. Tamzin saw its mane tossing in the wind, the smooth, sleek shape of its neck, the gleam of its eyes. Fear hit her. She drew a huge breath to scream for Nan – and the dark shape wasn't there any more.

Shocked, Tamzin stood staring at the place where the horse had been. It hadn't galloped away. It
couldn't
have done in such a short time. It had simply vanished into thin air.

Slowly she let the curtain drop. Her heart was thumping and she didn't know what to think. Had the horse really been there? She was so wound up that she could easily have imagined the whole thing. Or maybe she'd been half asleep, and the sound and the dark shape had been a sort of waking dream.

With a shiver she turned back to her bed. As she did so, Nan's painting caught her eye. The blue horse, galloping out of a sea under a full moon… In the dim, flickering glow of the nightlight the picture looked so real and alive. And as Tamzin looked at it, it seemed to her that it really did come to life. She saw the waves surging, saw the horse racing towards her, as if it would burst out of the picture frame and into the room.

The illusion only lasted for a moment, then it was gone and the painting was still again. Tamzin stared. She should have been frightened but she wasn't. Instead, she felt a strange sense of peace washing over her; the complete opposite of the feeling she had had from the Grey Horse's statue. It was silly, it was crazy, but she could almost believe that the horse in the painting had been galloping towards her to protect her.

Without knowing why, she whispered, ‘
Blue Horse
…?’ There was no answer, of course. The horse in the painting did not move again. But Tamzin felt comforted.

She went back to bed, and lay gazing steadily at the picture until she fell asleep.

B
y morning the storm was gone. The wind was still blustery and flurries of rain blew up the valley, but by the time Tamzin and Nan sat down to breakfast the sun was breaking through.

The electricity had come on again and Nan chatted cheerfully about everyday things, almost as if their talk last night had never happened. But it had happened and Tamzin couldn't forget. Nor could she forget the dark shape she had glimpsed in the garden. However, a thought had occurred to her. Hadn't Joel said that the riding stable where he lived was just a short way up the valley? One of the horses could have got out during the night and strayed along the valley path to Chapel Cottage. It was a rational explanation and she very much wanted to believe it.

Desperate to be sure, Tamzin said, ‘Nan, is it all right if I go to the riding stable this morning?’

Nan looked up from her toast. ‘The riding stable? Oh, of course, you met Joel yesterday, didn't you?’ She smiled. ‘Yes, if you've been invited, you can go. Who knows: if you make yourself useful, you might be able to earn some riding lessons!’

So a short while later, Tamzin set off. As she headed for the gate that led to the valley path, she looked carefully at the garden. There was no sign of any trampling, which was strange. But then perhaps she had scared the straying horse off before it could do any damage.

The path ran between the high cliff headlands. It was a wet, muddy, uphill walk, and by the time the stables came in sight Tamzin's legs were aching. A big wooden gate led to the stable yard and as she approached it Tamzin saw Joel sweeping out an empty stall. She called his name and he looked up.

‘Hi!’ He came to meet her, but Tamzin was anxiously scanning the row of stables with ponies' heads looking out of the open top doors.

‘The horses,’ she said as Joel reached her. ‘Are they all here?’

Joel looked baffled. ‘Of course. Shouldn't they be?’ He saw her expression and frowned. ‘What's the matter?’

She told him what had happened during the night. ‘I thought it was one of your horses,’ she finished. ‘I thought maybe it had got out and…’ Her voice tailed off. Her heart was bumping and she didn't like the feeling.

Joel shook his head. ‘No, it wasn't one of ours. Couldn't have been.’

Tamzin swallowed. ‘Has anyone else round here got horses?’

‘Not close enough for one to have found its way down the valley. Tamzin, what's up? You look scared.’

She wanted to tell him that she was scared, and why. But if she did, she would have to explain about the Grey Horse. How could she expect Joel to believe her? He would say it was just a silly story. He would probably laugh and tease her, and that would make things worse than ever. So with a great effort she forced herself to smile and tried to sound casual as she said, ‘Oh, I was just a bit worried, that's all. I mean, if the horse had escaped, and it hurt itself…’

‘Horses aren't daft,’ Joel reassured her. ‘Anyway, it might have been something else – or nothing at all. It sounds to me as if you dreamed it.’

‘Yes,’ said Tamzin. ‘Maybe I did.’ And she thought,
I wish I could believe that
.

Joel said, ‘Well, now you're here, how about helping me with the mucking out?’ He grinned. ‘Then if Mum says it's OK, I'll give you your first riding lesson. You said you want to learn, didn't you?’

Tamzin's worries about the Grey Horse melted away and her face lit up. ‘Oh, yes!’ she said. ‘I'd love to!’

Mucking out was hard, smelly work but Tamzin didn't mind in the least. For the first time in her life she was involved with horses, and she loved it. She forked soiled straw out of the stalls, put down fresh, then helped Joel to fill all the water buckets from the tap in the yard. She made friends with more of the ponies, and also with three cats and a big dog called Barney, who looked like a woolly hay-stack and slobbered happily all over her jeans. She was delighted when Moonlight seemed to recognize her, and spent a long time stroking his muzzle and talking to him.

‘He really likes you,’ Joel said, coming into Moonlight's stall with a net full of fresh, sweet hay. ‘You can ride him on your lesson. He's ideal for a beginner.’ He hung up the hay net. ‘There! That's everything done. Come on then, we'll take the ponies to the yard and saddle up.’

They were in time to wave goodbye to Joel's mother, Mrs Richards, who was taking two late-season holiday couples out for an hour's ride. Tamzin was glad Mrs Richards wasn't there to see her first efforts with Moonlight's harness. Putting the saddle on was easy enough, but the bridle was much more difficult. It seemed to be an endless tangle of straps and buckles, and Tamzin muddled the whole thing three times before Joel came to her rescue.

‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘The more you do it, the easier it'll get.’ He slipped the snaffle bit into Moonlight's mouth, pulled the bridle over the pony's head and buckled the strap called the throatlash. ‘Right. Just a hard hat, and we're ready.’

With a borrowed riding helmet firmly on, Tamzin really felt ‘the biz’, as Joel put it. He showed her how to mount, gathering the reins and placing her hands on Moonlight's back, then putting her left foot in the stirrup.

‘One, two, three and
up
!’ He gave her a helping shove and suddenly Tamzin was sitting in the saddle, with the ground a lot further away than it had been a moment ago.

‘Wow!’ she said, feeling that if she smiled any more widely her face would fall in half. ‘This is great!’ She had forgotten all her earlier worries; forgotten everything but the fact that her dearest wish had come true. Joel clipped a leading rein to Moonlight's bridle, then sprang with an ease that Tamzin envied on to the back of a piebald pony called Dandy.

‘All right?’ he asked.

Tamzin nodded eagerly.

‘Good. Then hold the reins like I showed you, press your heels gently against his flanks, and we're off.’

With Dandy ahead and Moonlight on the leading rein, they rode slowly out of the yard. Tamzin's heart thudded with excitement and pride, and she tried to remember the instructions Joel had given her. Back straight, knees in, heels down. Reins not too tight but not too loose, so that she could just ‘feel’ Moonlight's mouth. As they turned on to the valley path she swayed to the swing of the pony's stride, gazing around and feeling – almost literally – on top of the world.

Joel looked over his shoulder and nodded encouragement. ‘That's it! You're doing fine.’

Halfway to the beach they met some walkers coming the other way. Joel edged Dandy into the heather to let them pass; Moonlight followed and Tamzin smiled at the walkers, trying to look as if she had ridden horses all her life. When they moved on again she dared to take one hand off the reins and pat Moonlight's neck where his thick white mane curved over. Moonlight's ears pricked and he made a small whickering sound, as if he was pleased.

Soon they were in sight of the beach. The tide was low again. Two people and a dog were walking in the distance, but there was no one else in sight.

‘Would you like to ride on the sand?’ Joel asked.

‘Well, if you think I can.’ Tamzin gazed at the beach stretching away into the distance. ‘But we're not going to gallop or anything, are we?’

He laughed. ‘Course not! It's much too soon for you. Though we might try a little trot, if you want to.’

The ponies picked their way down the rocks, and Joel taught Tamzin how to lean back in the saddle, to make the slope easier for Moonlight. The wind was stronger on the beach and the sea was very rough after the storm, surf pounding in with a huge, steady noise that beat against Tamzin's ears and seemed to echo inside her head.

‘The lion's roaring today,’ said Joel.

She was puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’

He pointed to where the huge crag rose from the sea in the distance. ‘See that? People round here call it Lion Rock, so when the sea's really big like this, they say it's the lion roaring.’

For some reason that she couldn't work out, a peculiar feeling fluttered in Tamzin's stomach. ‘It's a weird name,’ she said. ‘Why do they call it that?’

Joel shrugged. ‘I don't know. Maybe they think it looks like a lion's head or something, though I can't see how. Anyway, how about trying that trot? Shorten your reins a little bit, press with your heels, and try to rise up and down with the trotting rhythm. Ready? Right. Let's go!’

Rising to the trot was tricky, but Tamzin began to get the hang of it as Joel led her along the beach. They weren't going very fast, but it was still exhilarating, with the wind blowing in her face and the quick thudding of the ponies’ hooves mingling with the sea's thunder.

And then the disaster happened.

From the corner of her eye Tamzin had seen the big wave rising out to sea. But she didn't realize just how big it was until it raced in close to the shore and started to curl over. Its crest seemed to form the shape of a horse's head… then it broke with a tremendous crash. Moonlight uttered a shrill neigh and reared. Tamzin slid backwards as he raked the air, only to be thrown forward again as his front hooves came down with a bone-shaking thump. The leading rein was snatched from Joel's hand and Moonlight bolted, careering away along the beach with Tamzin clinging to his back and screaming in terror.

‘
M
oonlight, stop! Oh, help!
Stop
!’

But there was nothing Tamzin could do to stop the pony's wild gallop. She clung on desperately. Joel on Dandy was chasing her, but Moonlight was faster. They raced along the tideline and to her horror Tamzin saw that the huge wave was racing with them, running at an angle to all the others. It still had the shape of a horse's head. And its tumbling foam wasn't white, but
grey
.

Then out to sea another, much bluer wave rose. Through her flying hair Tamzin glimpsed it speeding towards the shore, on a collision course with the horse-shaped breaker. The two waves met in a shuddering clash, and spray fountained skywards. Moonlight swerved from the water, reared again, and Tamzin lost her grip and pitched out of the saddle.

She hit the ground with a force that knocked all the air out of her lungs, and lay winded on the sand. Moonlight came to a snorting halt. He swung to face the sea, and stamped and pawed at the waves as if he was challenging them. Then as Tamzin giddily started to sit up, he turned towards her and put his muzzle down to her face as if to say he was sorry.