Loving Spirit (2 page)

Ellie hadn’t really known what to say to that. It wasn’t a proper question. Of course she’d got there, otherwise she wouldn’t be standing in front of him. Desperately miserable, she’d just nodded.

‘Car’s this way.’ He’d signed the flight attendant’s forms, taken the handle of her trolley and then set off towards the car park.

The flight attendant had called goodbye. Ellie thanked her and then hurried after her uncle.

She studied him now across the car. She had never heard much about Uncle Len; she just knew that her dad, who had been four years younger, had never really got on with him. They had written once a year at Christmas, but otherwise hadn’t kept in touch and never visited each other. Her dad had gone to university, become a vet and then moved to New Zealand, whereas her uncle had left school as soon as he could, gone to work at a racing yard and now had his own stables in north Derbyshire near to where they had both grown up. The only thing the two of them seemed to have in common was that they had both chosen to work with animals. Looking at her uncle’s set face, Ellie felt glad that he wasn’t more like her dad; it would have been much harder to be with him if she was reminded of Dad all the time. She missed both her parents so intensely – her energetic, bubbly mum who had been a kindergarten teacher, and her quieter, more thoughtful father. She had often travelled around with him as he had done his vet rounds, seeing the animals, helping out. She stopped her thoughts there as the tears threatened again.

Len seemed to sense her gaze and glanced across. Ellie dropped her eyes to her lap. But now eye contact had been made, the silence suddenly seemed to fill the car.

‘How … how many horses do you have?’ she asked, to break it.

‘Twenty-nine on the yard, some liveries, some mine,’ he answered. ‘You ride, don’t you?’

She nodded.

‘Then you’ll ride the smaller ponies for me,’ he said. ‘You’re a good size for them.’

‘Ponies?’ Ellie echoed.

‘Four-legged creatures, head at one end, tail at the other, hay goes in, muck comes out.’

Ellie’s cheeks coloured. From some people the comment might have been a joke, but her uncle didn’t seem the joking sort.

‘You’ll have to make yourself useful if you’re staying with me,’ he went on. ‘You’ll work just like everyone else. You’ll ride the ponies in the shows and when we have buyers round, and then you’ll work on the yard like we all do.’

Ellie disliked the tone of his voice, but she had no energy to fight right then. She just wanted to be left alone. She shrugged, wrapping her arms tighter around herself.

Her uncle turned his gaze back to the road.

*

After another twenty minutes of driving through small villages with grey stone houses, the road twisted round a corner and began to head downwards again. There was a town just visible in the valley below. Len pointed across the fields to the left where there was an old farmhouse nestling beneath a ridge of bare-branched trees on the mountainside. ‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘That’s your new home.’

Ellie swallowed at the word as her eyes took in the farmhouse. It was three storeys high. There was a large courtyard of stables and two big horse barns with stalls inside. Behind the barns the land had been levelled and there was an outdoor all-weather ring and a field with bright jumps in, the only splash of colour on the green and grey landscape. She could see horses and ponies grazing on the hillsides, wearing waterproof rugs and hoods over their necks.

Len turned the car down a bumpy lane with a white and black sign saying
High Peak Stables
. As the car jolted over the rough pot-holed surface, Ellie looked at the house looming ahead and shivered. It looked very lonely.

The drive ended in a tarmacked parking area with two horseboxes, a trailer, a motorbike and a few cars. There was a smaller outdoor school at the end of it. A dark bay pony with a white star was being trotted around. His ears were pricked and his eyes
soft. The boy who was riding looked too big for the pony, but he was slimly built and he rode lightly. Sitting down in the saddle, he moved the pony into a flowing canter.

Despite her unhappiness, Ellie couldn’t help but catch her breath. The pony reminded her slightly of Abbey, who had been a dark bay with a white star too. ‘That pony’s gorgeous,’ she murmured.

Her uncle nodded briefly as he parked the car. ‘That’s Picasso. He’s only six but he took every novice 143-centimetre working hunter pony class he entered last year and went Champion at the BSPS Summer Champs. Got his Horse of the Year show ticket first time out and took third place there in October.’ His eyes narrowed appreciatively. ‘Not bad for a pony picked up for £500 as a four-year-old.’

Ellie didn’t know what half of what her uncle had just said meant, but she didn’t really care. She wasn’t interested in what the pony had won; she was just captivated by its beauty and grace.

Her uncle got out and Ellie opened her door. The cold wind whipped her tangled hair away from her face. The boy cantered to the fence and slowed the pony to an easy halt. Pushing her hands into the pockets of her fleece jacket, Ellie followed her uncle over.

‘He’s going all right.’ Her uncle gave a satisfied nod.

The boy looked relieved.

‘This is your cousin, Ellie,’ Len told him.

‘Hi, Ellie.’ The boy’s hair was sandy brown, his eyes dark greeny-grey. ‘I’m Joe.’

His smile was warm and Ellie felt a rush of relief. ‘Hi,’ she said.

‘How long was your flight then?’ Joe asked her.

‘Twenty-four hours.’

‘You must be whacked.’

‘She wasn’t flying the plane herself, Joe,’ Len said abruptly. ‘She was probably asleep most of it. Go on now, get working that pony again. Where’s Luke?’

‘He’s in the wash-barn, clipping.’ Joe smiled at Ellie. ‘I’ll catch you later,’ he said, moving the pony on.

‘Right, lass, come and see round.’ Len strode back up the car park and on to the large rectangular courtyard, which had ten spacious loose boxes, arranged on two sides. The third side had a tackroom, a rug room and a wash-stall, and the fourth side was the wall of a large airy barn. Everywhere was immaculate. Ellie gazed round at the horses who were looking out over their doors. They were all beautiful – greys, bays, chestnuts.

‘The main show horses have stables here,’ said Len, pointing around the courtyard. ‘The barn at the side there has the livery and younger horses, and the barn further up towards the ring is for the ponies.
There’re three foaling boxes round the back too.’ A man in his forties with a bald head pushed a wheelbarrow across the yard. ‘That’s Stuart, ex-jockey,’ Len went on. ‘He’s been my yard manager now for ten years. You’ll meet the other grooms later – Helen and Sasha – and you’ll mind you do what they say.’

Ellie bristled slightly at his tone, but just then a tall boy who looked about eighteen came to the open door of the wash-stall. He had a pair of electric clippers in one hand and his jeans were covered with horsehair. A sandy terrier-type dog bounced around his heels, chewing at his boots.

‘That’s Luke,’ said Len, walking towards him.

Ellie wondered who Luke was. Maybe he was another groom? His dark hair was slightly long and there was a swagger to his step. As she and Len reached him, Luke’s deep-blue eyes swept over Ellie assessingly and she felt something tighten inside her. Though he hadn’t even spoken yet, she felt a prickle of dislike. The dog came trotting over to her and Ellie bent down to pat it.

‘Luke, this is Ellie,’ Len said.

Ellie glanced up and met Luke’s appraising gaze.

‘I thought she was supposed to be fourteen,’ he said to Len.

‘Just small for her age,’ Len replied. ‘Useful, though. Means she can ride the fourteen-handers – and exercise the smaller ponies.’

‘Yeah, guess there’s that,’ agreed Luke. ‘Now Joe’s not such a midget we need someone else. So she can ride then?’

Ellie stared at both of them. They were talking about her as if she wasn’t there! ‘Yes, actually, I can ride,’ she put in before Len could speak. She could feel her temper rising, breaking through her numbness. ‘I’ve ridden since I was three. I had my own pony, you know.’

‘Oh.’ Luke raised his eyebrows. ‘So you’re the expert then? I’ll know who to come to if I want any advice.’ His eyes mocked her.

Ellie glared at him.

‘Did you see to the kittens then?’ Len asked him.

‘Not yet. They’re in here still,’ Luke said, breaking eye contact with Ellie and jerking a thumb behind him.

‘Kittens!’ Ellie hurried to the door. She loved cats almost as much as ponies. There were some bales of straw inside, and in a pile of loose straw in the corner was a black mother cat with three very tiny baby kittens, their heads looking comically big compared to their small black bodies. ‘They’re so cute,’ she breathed as she watched the kittens padding round and feeding from the mother. ‘Can I pick one up?’ she asked Len eagerly.

‘No,’ he replied. ‘We’ll get your stuff in from the car. See to them, Luke.’

Ellie followed her uncle silently back to the car. The cases were heavy, but Len carried one in each hand easily over to the house while Ellie carried her rucksack and hand-luggage bag.

The house was very old, with white windows that held little rectangular panes of glass. Yellow lichen was growing on some of the stone. Inside, there were no flowers or plants, no pictures on the walls; the only photos or ornaments were of horses. The kitchen was large with a quarry-tiled floor, a pine table and a bay window. It was clean but bare, apart from the clutter of horse and motorbike magazines on the window seat, and a television. There was a lounge leading off it, containing a threadbare sofa with no cushions, a couple of armchairs and another, even bigger, television. The hallway was empty apart from a mirror and a wooden staircase with a ragged carpet runner. It had the feeling of a house lived in just by men.
But then that’s what it is
, Ellie reminded herself. She knew that Len had got divorced eight years ago. There was only him and Joe here now.

There were three bedrooms on the first floor. But Len didn’t stop. He continued up another flight of stairs.

‘You’ll be up here,’ he told her.

Ellie shivered as they reached the second floor. There was a feeling of damp in the air. Len showed
her into a cold room that had a single bed with a white cover, an old dark wardrobe and a dark chest of drawers with a round mirror on top of it, and an empty black fireplace. It was like something from a history book.

‘This is my room?’ Ellie said uncertainly.

Len nodded. ‘Bathroom’s down the corridor. I’ll leave you to unpack. Come down when you’re done.’

He walked back down the stairs. For a moment, Ellie just stood there, her eyes taking in the strange room, and then desolation broke through her defences. She had lost everything and now she had to live here, like this. She started to cry, covering her face with her hands, her body shaking, but trying not to make a sound. The last thing she wanted was for her Uncle Len to hear and come back. From the little she had seen of him, she was sure she would get no sympathy at all.

At last the storm of tears dried up. Taking several deep breaths, and aching with loneliness, Ellie went to the bathroom. It had a cold lino floor, a plain white bath, a sink and toilet, a plastic bath mat and a shower attached to the bath. It was completely bare, with just a single old grey towel to soften it.

At least I don’t have to share it with anyone else
, she thought, splashing freezing water from the cold tap over her face and trying to be positive.
Maybe I can make it look good. I could buy things. Do it up
.
She had money. Before she’d left New Zealand, her grandma had made sure she had some in case she needed to buy anything.

‘Your uncle might not understand about the clothes and things girls need to buy,’ she’d said to her. ‘There’s the money you inherited from your parents. It’s in trust for you until you get older, but if you need things just write. As long as it’s a reasonable request, no one’s going to keep the money from you. See how you go, but take this to start. It’s a lot of money so be careful with it.’ And she’d pressed the money into Ellie’s hands. It had looked like toy money to Ellie, nothing like the New Zealand banknotes she was used to. She’d counted it later and found her gran had given her three hundred pounds. Maybe she could use some of it to buy a few things to make her bedroom and bathroom look better.

Yeah, I’ll do it
, she thought, feeling a flicker of her old energy.
I’m not going to live like this
.

Feeling slightly calmer, she went to the window of her bedroom. Below her were the stables. As she watched, Luke came out of the barn, a sack in his hands.

What was in it? It looked heavy at the bottom, as if it had weights in or something, but the middle of it seemed to be moving.

Ellie opened the window and heard the yard
manager, Stuart, calling to Luke. ‘You got those kittens then?’

Luke looked at the sack. ‘Yeah, they’re here. I’ll use the pond in the upper field. It’s good and deep.’

Ellie’s heart lurched.
No!
She remembered her uncle’s words:
See to them, Luke
. The next minute she was flying down the stairs.

Chapter Two

Ellie tore out of the house. Joe had brought Picasso in from the school and was untacking him.

‘What’s he doing?’ Ellie gasped, pointing at Luke as he disappeared round the barn. ‘Is he really going to drown those kittens?’ For a moment, she hoped, prayed, that she’d got it wrong.

But as soon as she saw the look of unhappiness cross Joe’s face she knew she hadn’t. He nodded.

‘Well, stop him!’ Ellie cried, her anger overcoming her other feelings. All she thought about were the little black kittens in the sack on Luke’s back.

Joe shook his head. ‘I can’t stop him. It’s Dad’s orders.’

‘So?’ Ellie stared at him in disbelief. ‘You can’t let it happen! You can’t let him just kill them.’

Joe didn’t move.

Giving up on him, Ellie raced after Luke. As she ran round the stable block, she saw him striding
across a field. He reached the pond and pulled the sack from his back.