A Horse for Angel Read online

  “Forget it.”

  “Is it something else bad? Stealing or something like that?”

  “I said forget it.” Her voice was quiet and heavy.

  And I don’t know why but I said, “OK! Just tell me!”

  Angel tied a piece of straw in knots. And I waited.

  “What do you want me to do?” I said.

  “Nothing,” she said. “I just wanted to see if you would.”

  “I said I would!” I snapped. “And I will.”

  And I was startled because I meant it and I didn’t care about all her lying and games and what was hurting.

  Angel slid off the bales and walked right up to me, just like she had before. Her shoulders leaned in until her nose almost touched mine. She burned me with her eyes.

  “They’re… all I’ve got.”

  “Who? Belle and Lunar? What do you mean they’re all you’ve got? What about your family and the people you’re visiting?”

  She stayed frozen, breathing loudly through her nose, her eyes blazing, my question hanging in the air like ice. I knew I couldn’t give up. If she saw me back down at all, I’d never find out.

  Car tyres tumbled over the gravel in the lane, rumbled into the yard. The engine stopped. Two doors opened, closed.

  “Mrs Hemsworth?” a voice called. “It’s the police.”

  I saw the fear in Angel’s eyes as she stared at me, and I knew they had come for her.

  “Why are they here?” I whispered.

  She tried to listen to what was going on out in the yard, to the distant voices.

  “I ran away.” Her tiny voice was empty and cold. “They put me in a foster home and I ran away.”

  I could hardly breathe. No matter what I had already thought, I wasn’t expecting that. I put my hand over my mouth so I didn’t cry out.

  “If you tell anyone, they’ll find me and take me back. I don’t want to go back, not yet.”

  Angel was still looking at me, pleading. We both turned towards the foal. The glass in his eyes was dark, almost black. Angel wasn’t asking me to lie for her again. Now she was asking me to look after Lunar.

  My heart ached. I nodded. She turned her back and I could hear the tears in her voice.

  “Ask your aunt to bring Rita’s geese back.”

  Then she ran. Out of the stable door, through the yard. Heavy thuds stamped after her. A woman shouted, “That’s her! Angel Weston, stop! Come back!”

  I looked through the crack in the door, saw Angel running up the lane, springing over a gate as a policeman and policewoman chased after her. Leaving Rita on the porch, her face buried in her hands. Leaving me holding Lunar, who was trying to stumble after Angel.

  ITA AND I LAY SIDE BY SIDE AGAINST THE PILLOWS on her bed. Angel was a runaway. She had no family, no mother who looked after her. I knew what it was like to have my dad leave and not come back, but what was it like to be taken away from your family? It seemed a hundred times worse. A million.

  I missed my mum just then more than anything in the world.

  “They’ll take her back, won’t they?” I said.

  Rita squeezed my hand.

  “I should have known why she’d come here.” Her voice stirred the emptiness in the room. “That poor child.”

  Nobody had called Angel that – a poor child. It was only because we now both knew why she had been hiding that everything started to fall into place. No matter what she had done, it wasn’t her fault that her mother didn’t look after her. That’s why she wanted to be with Belle. She needed someone. Who else did she have?

  Rita walked over to the window seat. She wiped the back of her hand over the dust on the window, staring at the grey mark it left on her knuckles. I saw how she tried to wipe it away, how the dust stuck in the wrinkles. She sighed many times. I couldn’t help thinking how Angel had also turned to Rita when she had nobody left.

  “Angel wants me to look after Lunar,” I said.

  I told her that Angel had said Mrs Barker wanted the foal put down, and that Mrs Barker had said the opposite. I told Rita I didn’t know which story was true.

  Rita closed her eyes.

  “Maybe it would have been better…”

  I knew what she meant to say. Maybe it would all be so much easier if the foal had been put down. My stomach tightened.

  “How can you say that?” I said. “Lunar didn’t do anything wrong. And he’s getting better, you said so yourself.”

  “There’s an old wives’ tale,” Rita said, “about the hundredth horse—”

  “I know Lunar is your hundredth horse,” I interrupted, “but it’s just a stupid story. It doesn’t mean anything!”

  She held my eyes for a moment.

  “Did Angel tell you that story?”

  I nodded; my shoulders curled in.

  “The one about the wild hundredth horse spoiling the herd?”

  “No,” I said, frowning. “Nothing like that. Angel told me a completely different story about a big old angel and the hundredth horse coming for the princess.”

  But all I could think about was what I had to do. Tears welled. I flopped in a chair and rubbed my eyes. I didn’t know anything about foals or horses; I didn’t want the responsibility of looking after Lunar. What if I got it wrong? What if I couldn’t do it?

  “I wish I’d never come here,” I said, trying to stop the quake in my voice. “I wish I’d never met Angel.”

  Rita pulled up the stool and sat beside me.

  “People think the worst of Angel. But there’s another side to her not many people get to see.

  “We had lambs one year,” she carried on. “Three of them from the same mother, but she rejected them. They were tiny, too small and weak. They should have died by all accounts. Angel took them from Mr Hemsworth. He had a soft spot for that girl, not that he’d ever admit it. She was always at his heels, hanging around here. Angel nursed the lambs, kept them alive.” She chuckled softly. “She dressed them in baby jumpers to keep them warm.”

  “Baby jumpers?”

  Rita laughed. “Knitted woolly jumpers.”

  I supposed there were two sides to everyone. Sometimes people kept the bad things hidden. Angel seemed to keep what was good about her hidden.

  “One thing Angel has never done is give up on what she thinks is right,” Rita said, more serious now.

  I leaned against Rita, hid my face behind her arm.

  “I thought I was just going to have a boring, ordinary holiday,” I said, my voice muffled against her jumper.

  “Perhaps you should leave this to me,” Rita said. “I’ll keep an eye on the foal. I’ll get him back with Belle. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to see they are sold together.”

  “Mrs Barker’s going to buy them.”

  “She is?”

  A question was bothering me too. When I said somebody would want Lunar if he was healed, why hadn’t Angel seemed happy?

  “Well, that’s good news,” Rita said. “Now you go on back to the cottage and enjoy the rest of your time here. Leave everything to me.”

  I could have gone. I knew that Rita would take care of things, just like Mum had done when Dad left. But how could I leave knowing that Angel trusted me? None of this was Lunar’s fault. And then what happened was I told Rita the truth.

  “I’m scared, Rita, because I’m here without my mum and she always does everything for me. And she makes everything all right, but it means I don’t have to do anything and I don’t have to care about anyone. But I do care. I’m Angel’s friend, and I’ve got a mum, but Angel and Lunar haven’t.”

  I felt the warmth and the roughness of Rita’s hand wrap round mine.

  “When you really know someone, they get in here.” She tapped at her heart. “Right inside.” She looked at the wedding photo on the mantelpiece. “Then, when they’re gone, you do what you can to protect yourself. You get angry, withdrawn, take it out on other people. But then what?” She smiled through watery eyes. “That shell you make round you
r heart, to protect yourself, stops others getting in.”

  She raised my chin.

  “It seems to stop the goodness getting out too. Angel, you and me, we’re not that different.”

  Her warm, strong arm pulled me to her.

  “We know why Angel was hiding now. But what about you?”

  As soon as she said it, I thought of the carousel. The one thing I had wanted to do was to put it back together again. I was good at doing the same things Dad did, but I hid the carousel because I didn’t want Mum to know that I was like him, or to see me in the same way she thought of him. But was I also hiding another part of me? I thought of the tin girl about to fly and I remembered when Angel had said that people were mostly scared of their own brilliance. Maybe that’s the part I was hiding. And right then I knew I didn’t have to be like him; I could be what I wanted. I would look after Lunar and I would never betray Angel.

  “It’s not Lunar’s fault,” I said, getting up. “What’s he ever done?”

  I fetched Rita’s dusty coat and boots from the hallway.

  “Come on,” I said. “We’re all he’s got.”

  I went back to talk to Aunt Liv and told her Rita was looking after a foal and that I would need to be there a lot and asked if that was all right. Even though Alfie and Gem moaned and complained and Mum wanted me to call her, Aunt Liv still said yes.

  “I won’t ask any more because… because I know you have your reasons,” she said. Her mouth twitched. “I don’t know if you remember me talking about a girl who used to live around here, Angel Weston.”

  My stomach turned. If only she knew.

  “I’ve got a funny feeling she might have something to do with all this.”

  Then I remembered what Angel had said when the police came. Even though she wasn’t here, I wouldn’t let her down.

  “Can Rita have her geese back?” I asked.

  Aunt Liv laughed softly. She didn’t ask why. She touched my cheek and said, “I’ll take them over tomorrow.”

  I went straight to bed, quickly falling into uncomfortable dreams. I heard the phone ring downstairs. I felt Gem kiss my cheek, smelled her sugary breath as she whispered, “Please can I see the foal. I love you.”

  I heard the shift of the covers as she and Alfie climbed into bed without turning on the light. I heard the phone ring again. Then nothing.

  WOKE EARLY AND RAN ROUND TO RITA’S, determined to do my best. Rita and me put the foal’s leg braces on and walked him around. We took them off when he wanted to lie down. We made sure Dorothy had plenty to eat, and cleaned the water bucket and shovelled out the poop and made deep beds of straw.

  I watched Lunar get stronger every hour. He followed me. And that was the most wonderful thing. I didn’t speak to him. He just decided by himself that he wanted to be with me. His soft muzzle nudged my hand or my back as if he wanted me to lead him, take him somewhere new. I took him in and out of the stables and around the house and to all the corners of the yard. He watched me build the roof of the carousel, as if he was waiting for it to come alive too.

  “You’re safe now,” I told him.

  And I wanted to tell him Angel was too. But was she?

  Then Lunar’s ears pricked when we both heard what sounded like a traffic jam coming our way.

  I saw Rita’s face glow as the geese swept into the yard, swaying and waddling and honking, Aunt Liv, Alfie and Gem herding them in. The geese huddled, shimmying away from the foal as he tried to chase them and play with them. They parted as he skittered into them, then they came together again and moved in the same direction.

  “Nell said you wanted them back,” said Aunt Liv.

  Rita put her arm round me. “Did she now?”

  She kissed my head.

  “You know it wasn’t my idea, don’t you?” I whispered.

  Rita nodded. She couldn’t speak.

  I wished Angel was there so she could see what she had made happen. I saw Rita shine as her geese came home; she laughed from her belly, as if the laughter came from very deep down. I did understand who Angel was. It was in the way Rita watched those geese, the way they brought her back to life. Maybe I was right all along. That is what real angels do. Bring things back to life.

  I saw the trees uncurling their leaves, like tight fists opening. I saw the sway of grass in the overgrown fields, felt the breeze against my skin, saw it ruffle the geese’s feathers, puff under the foal’s blue cardigan. It even felt like the cobbles under my feet were stirring. And I missed Angel because she wasn’t there to share it with me.

  “I love him,” Gem breathed, her arms sinking into the mist of fur round Lunar’s neck.

  She knelt in front of him. He lowered his head and breathed on her. I saw her look into his eyes. I heard her whisper to him.

  “I’m Gem,” she said. “It means something precious.”

  She tilted her head to the side, nodding, pretending he had answered.

  “I think Lunar is a lovely name too.”

  She nodded again.

  “You are like the moon,” she said. “And I love you because you’re the magic hundredth horse, aren’t you?”

  He nuzzled into her. She kissed his nose and rested her cheek there.

  “Nobody believes you’re magic. But I do.”

  Gem’s sweetness made me feel happy inside. And I was thinking that there was no such thing as angels really. It was just people letting the goodness inside them out. And, when they do, everybody feels it.

  And I thought about magic and fairy tales. They are not real. It’s just that beautiful things make you feel full up inside. As if nothing is missing. And that feels like a miracle.

  Rita had phoned suppliers and they had delivered some substitute milk for Lunar. He guzzled from the bottle, Alfie and Gem both holding on as he nudged and wrapped his tongue round the teat. Dorothy jumped on to the bales and waited for him. When his bottle was finished, he went to Dorothy to drink some more.

  Alfie’s cheeks flushed. “Does he know that’s a goat?”

  “Course he does,” said Gem. “Dorothy doesn’t even look like a horse.”

  I heard Aunt Liv ask Rita if it was Mrs Barker’s goat.

  “Not a word, please, Liv,” Rita said.

  Aunt Liv raised the palms of her hands as if to say she wouldn’t ask any more. She smiled at me and mouthed, “I trust you.”

  Gem couldn’t take her hands away from the foal; when he moved, she followed. She kept talking to him, and in Gem’s make-believe world, he answered.

  Gem stared at the leg braces.

  “He’s just a bit wonky,” I said, thinking she was about to ask. “They’ll help make his legs straight. He’s going to be fine.”

  “I know,” she said. “He told me.”

  Alfie stood quietly next to Gem and said, “What else did he tell you?”

  Gem looked uncomfortable for a moment, then she shrugged and said, “It’s a secret.”

  Aunt Liv had also brought a big wicker basket hooked over her elbow, with a tea towel covering what was inside.

  “I remember when the farm used to be like this,” she said quietly, looking around at the bustling yard. “Thought you’d like to see these too.”

  She nudged a shy chicken out of her basket and into the yard, and the six yellow goslings that Angel had given me. The goslings formed a line and followed their new mother hen. They went straight into one of the stables. I wished Angel was there and I couldn’t help thinking that this was where she would rather be. I ached inside, worrying about where she was now.

  “Some kind of magnetic force is drawing the animals back to Keldacombe Farm,” said Aunt Liv. She put her hand on Rita’s arm and they held each other’s eyes for a moment. “Are you sure you can leave all this behind?”

  HILE LUNAR WAS SLEEPING, AUNT LIV, MY cousins and me walked up to the village. Tents were being raised on the village green, big lorries unloading, metal barriers being stacked to go along the street, strings of light bulbs going up b
etween lamp-posts ready for the parade and fair on Friday evening. I saw a police car drive through the village, a policeman and policewoman scanning the streets. They slowed and looked at us, then moved on.

  We were there for a few things. I helped Alfie choose some green socks and Gem some green tights for their pea costumes for the parade.

  When I got back to Rita’s farm, the police car was parked in the yard. Rita was talking to the policewoman and policeman on her doorstep. I saw Rita nodding. They were still looking for Angel. My mind raced, as if I could find her just by thinking about her.

  I stood by Rita’s side and she told them Angel had been to the farm, but that we hadn’t seen her since and we didn’t know where she was. Rita said neither of us had known that she’d run away from the foster home. But the police didn’t look convinced. They said we could both be in serious trouble if they found out we were hiding her.

  They looked all around the farmhouse and in the stables, but I knew as well as Rita that it wouldn’t be easy finding her if she didn’t want to be found.

  While Lunar lay in the straw beside me, I carried on building the carousel. I fixed the struts across the roof, to make it stronger; strung the lights all around; pushed the horses on to their poles and into the roof. Everything was in its place, then the final metal disc went in the centre at the top. I flicked the switch. The lights came on, but the horses stayed frozen still in mid-air, mid-dance. Nothing moved. No spinning or whirling or turning.

  Again I looked in the corners of the case, shook it, peeled back the leather, tore the lining away from the sides and reached in. I pushed all the spare pieces around, spread them over the floor. The tin girl wasn’t there. And then I remembered why she was so important. She had a magnet in her. She had to be on the top! It wouldn’t work without her.

  I touched Lunar’s soft, warm neck. I wanted to forget all the unfinished things, but I couldn’t. Lunar slept, his breath soft as shadows, his blue cardigan and extra blankets keeping him warm.

  “Where is she?” I said.

  I picked up the spare pieces and threw them out of the stable. Angry at losing Angel, at the missing tin girl, at HIM for taking her.