They took their bow.
“That looks such fun,” Jessica clapped her hands. Behind them the rest of the audience, too, was applauding loudly and Liberty beamed up at them, while patting Oliver happily on the neck.
Slightly out of breath, her face a little blushed and for once devoid of all scepticism, she was the most stunning sight Tull had ever seen.
Liberty let the pony walk towards Jessica and him on a long rein and smiled at the little girl when she arrived in front of them.
“You enjoyed that?”
“I want to go fast like that. Can I? Can I, please?”
“It takes a long time to learn to ride like that,” Liberty answered truthfully.
Disappointment washed over the little girl’s face.
“I thought so,” she sighed.
“But,” Liberty added, “You could help me warm him down and sit on him while he walks around. Would you like that?”
Jessica nodded enthusiastically.
“In that case you two need to go to the tack room and get your hat again then come around into the school. I’ll have a word with your mummy in the meantime.”
As they walked back from the tack room through the stable block, filled to the brim with horses munching contentedly on their hay, Tull could sense the energy on his hip flag.
“Hey,” he enquired softly, “Are you tired?”
“A little,” Jessica yawned then abruptly sat up straighter, “But I’m not too tired to ride.”
Tull laughed, “Yeah, I figured.”
“Tull?” Jessica leant back on his hip and scrunched up her face, “Which one do you ride?”
He stopped for a second, “None.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, “I haven’t got any money for lessons.”
“That is so unfair!” she exclaimed indignantly, “Everybody should be allowed to ride. It should be free!”
He drew her back against his body and started walking again, facing away from her so she couldn’t see his eyes.
This little girl who had been dealt the most unfair card of all getting upset on his behalf was threatening to tip him over the edge and this time Liberty was not there to throw him a lifeline. He hurried towards the arena in big steps, suppressing his emotions harder with each stride.
When they entered the sand school Liberty was sitting astride Oliver bareback. His saddle had been taken off and slung over the side panel, where Jessica’s mum was now standing. Worry and excitement mixed on her face.
Liberty rode towards them, mischievousness playing around her lips.
“Right. You’re back. Are you feeling strong?” she addressed Jessica, “Then hop on behind me and hold on really tight. Tull? If you would do us the honours, sling her up.”
Tull heaved the little girl onto Oliver’s broad back and once she was settled wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
“You have fun,” he snivelled.
Liberty arched her eyebrows, “Oh, she will.”
He should have known.
The differences between Liberty Ellis and other girls were not skin deep. They went all the way through to the core. Dashing and daring, brave and brash she was the only girl in the world he could think of who would take a dying child behind her on her pony and give it the time of its life. For there was very little warming down a horse at walk involved in what happened next.
As soon as Jessica’s arms were securely fastened around her waist and the little girl had found Oliver’s rhythm Liberty picked up the reins and off they went. Not at a full gallop but in a beautiful, measured canter still fast enough for Jessica to whoop with joy.
The sound rang through the arena like a battle cry of bliss.
*****
Jessica couldn’t eat the food they had prepared. She sat on Tull’s lap during the meal, slurping a kind of grey looking pureed mass through a straw, talking a dime a dozen, high on adrenaline until exhaustion finally pounced from behind and she began nodding off against his shoulder.
By the time Liberty arrived at the table having put Oliver away in his stable at last, the little girl was fast asleep in his arms and Tull’s limbs were rapidly going the same way. Jessica’s mum who was sitting to his right was just reaching across to stroke her daughter’s face when Liberty quietly pulled out the chair to his left and sat herself down. Jessica’s mother looked at both of them with gratitude and sadness.
“Thank you. I couldn’t have asked for better people to look after her today. You’ve both been absolutely wonderful. You know,” her eyes singled out Tull for a moment, “she’s always wanted a big brother. When she was younger she had an imaginary one, I’m glad she got to have a real one for the day,” she swallowed hard and looked across at Liberty, “And you. I’ll never forget what you did for her today, for us, for me. I’ll remember that sound she made for the rest of my life.”
Liberty clenched her teeth, nodded sharply and forced a smile.
“We aim to please,” she turned to the table, “Is there any food left? I’m famished.”
*****
Dusk fell and it was time for the visitors to leave.
Tull gently woke Jessica and took her to say goodbye to Titch before carrying her onto the bus. She gave him a last hug then sleepily settled into the window seat next to her mum. He left the vehicle and stood in the yard with the other helpers, Liberty by his side, waving. His last glimpse of Jessica was her little pale palm against the pane as the minibus pulled away.
Those left behind silently began tidying up and putting the yard back to its normal state.
Titch and the duns were taken back to their paddock, while those who had lent them their stables for the day had to be brought back in, brushed down and made ready for the night.
Gingerbread Man who’d been boxed all day needed to stretch his arthritic legs in the arena before the worst of them had to be rubbed and dressed for the night. Normally this was Lisa’s or Liberty’s job but tonight Lisa, subdued and tired like the rest of them, handed Tull the headcollar with a few words of instruction and then retreated to her office.
Tull haltered the big, lanky chestnut and took him into the school.
There was something companionable about the friendly gelding that flowed right along the rope into Tull’s arm. As he lurched alongside the boy on a slack lead, nose on the ground, sniffing out the trails the other horses had left during the day Tull slowly felt the tears he had been swallowing all day turn into an all encompassing sadness.
His hip felt empty and his heart heavy.
Gingerbread Man looked up, stopped, stepped up to the boy and pushed his nose right into his face. Tull was about to gently shove it to the side when the gelding took a deep breath and blew his nostrils out long and hard. The fine spray of snot mixed into the warm air should probably have disgusted Tull but the boy found himself oddly grateful for the comedy shower. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket and then lifted his hand to lay his palm on the horse’s forehead. Gingerbread Man lowered his head, let out a deeply satisfied grunt and began walking towards the middle of the school. He found a spot to his liking and started pawing the ground. The horse looked expectantly at Tull, waiting for the boy to detach the lead rope and step back before buckling at the knees. As Tull watched the old gentleman roll with all the delight of a young colt, this way and that, legs sticking into the air and treading invisible water while rubbing the base of his thin mane as hard into the sand as possible a sense of wellbeing took hold of the sadness and turned it into a moment of eternity.
Before Tull could grasp it more clearly, Liberty’s voice called to him from the entrance.
“Hey, I’m done. Everyone else has gone home. If you’re finished in here I’ll show you how to wrap his leg.”
*****
Her fingers were so nimble and quick that Tull had to cup her wrapping hand a couple of times to slow her down. Each time a surge went through him and he couldn’t help but wonder why now but not earli
er in the day when she’d held his hand in reassurance. Then there had been warm comfort in her touch but now, reaching for her as they crouched beside one another by the hind leg of an astonishingly well behaved Gingerbread Man, suddenly there was desire again and though there was pleasure in the current he didn’t really want it. He wanted it to stop. He’d accepted her disinterest in him in that way and he loved her friendship too much to have his stupid heart spoil it. But there was also that weird magnetism again, the skin on the back of her fingers seemingly nestling against his palm whenever they met.
He kept willing his heart to listen to his head but the stupid thing just wouldn’t play ball. It revelled in her nearness, skipping along to its own excited beat.
He sighed deeply.
Liberty finished up the wrap and looked at him with kind eyes.
“Rough day, huh? Charity days. They leave us all a bit emotional. Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of it soon enough.”
They rose to their feet, still holding each others gaze. In the periphery of his vision, in the tiny edge that was not filled by the green of her eyes, he saw her swallow. The urge to kiss her was almost overwhelming. For the first time in his life he understood those rough men in the old movies, the cowboys that just forcefully grabbed the dame of their choice and pressed violent kisses onto her lips. Only he didn’t want force, he longed to nibble along the jagged edges of her mouth tenderly, wanted to kiss her softly until she’d let him do it over and over again.
“You’re blushing,” she stated with an amused smile.
Just then the office door opened.
“Liberty, put the oaf away for us, will you? Tull, come in, please. I want to have a word.”
*****
The office was a tiny, windowless room sparsely furnished with a desk, a phone, a filing cabinet, two chairs, a kettle and no frippery.
Lisa gestured to the visitor’s chair for the boy to sit down, shut the door, weaved sideways around the table and then followed suit. She poured a measure of whiskey into a mug in front of her from a half empty bottle on the table. Her eyes followed Tull’s and she grinned.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t drunk all of that tonight. This is only my second. Do you want one?”
Tull shook his head, “I’m not eighteen yet.”
Lisa shrugged and scrunched up her face, “Who cares? What you did today most adults shy away from and it’s well deserving of a Scotch – if you want one.”
“No thanks.”
“Hmm,” Lisa put the mug to her lips and took a sip, “Funny boy, you are,” she mumbled over the rim, “It took me a while to click but I remember you.”
She took a proper mouthful of the liquid and swallowed it down before lowering the mug back onto the table.
“You’re the boy from Grange Avenue. You used to come running out of the house and pet the horses every time we rode by.”
It was a statement, not a question, and Tull didn’t see the need to respond. He waited for her to continue. She nodded at the bottom of her mug.
“Once I twigged it was obvious. Christine always reckoned you would show up at the yard one day,” she looked up, “So I suppose you could say I’ve been waiting for you.”
She paused for a long time, picking up a coin that was lying on the table and twirling it between her fingers.
“So,” she carried on at long last, “Liberty says you want to learn to ride. Is that right?”
Tull stopped breathing for a moment then gathered his wits.
“Yes,” he answered under his breath, “more than anything.”
Lisa smiled and nodded silently for a while.
“Well, then I guess we should find you something a little bigger than Titch,” she winked at him, “How would the Gingerbread Man suit you to start with? I know he’s a bit stiff some days but he always needs gentle exercise and there isn’t a kinder schoolmaster on the yard. I could give you a proper lesson twice a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays would work for me and once you’ve had a few and know how to tack up, you can always take him in the school without me shouting at you. Just walk him around a bit and practice your weight aids. In return I expect you to keep doing what you have been doing. It’s been good for Liberty to have help. She does too much around here and I rely too much on her. I know that,” she finished her drink and reached for the bottle to pour another, “But do you know how many girls like her are out there?”
She fixed him with her eyes as if it was a serious question and Tull couldn’t help but respond.
“One?” he enquired with mild sarcasm.
“That’s exactly right,” Lisa answered earnestly, “One. Don’t get me wrong, I get at least a girlie a month that shows up offering work for lessons but none of them lasts. As soon as they realise it’s not just a bit of grooming or they meet a boy they vanish again. No dedication left in the world, I tell you. But Liberty? Now there is a proper grafter. Never complains, always reliable. She’s been with me since she was yay high,” Lisa held her hand up to about 5 feet off the floor, “Little scrawny, scruffy thing turns up one day, pretty much mute and just starts chipping in. Doesn’t ask for anything just works. And she’s still here. Six years later. Amazing. Absolutely, bloomin’ amazing. But she could do with some slack. I know that. Especially with her exams coming up next year. I know she wants to do well, even if she has a place guaranteed in the best equine college in the country already. I know she wants to stick two fingers up to all those idiots who thought she was stupid. And I want her to have that. So,” she took a deep breath, “What do you say?”
“Yes, please, thank you very much?” Tull suggested.
He was too astonished to remain altogether serious. It seemed too wondrous, too easy.
“There are two provisos,” Lisa continued, happily slurping her whiskey, “You need to go and buy your own hat. That’s the only expense I expect you to fork out for. Secondly, I don’t want any teenage drama on the yard. So you keep your hands off the girls here. It’s hard enough keeping them from scratching each others’ eyes out over horse stuff, I dread to think what would happen if the boy pin up started going out with one of them. So they’re strictly off limits,” she rose to her feet and extended her hand across the desk, “Agreed?”
Tull stood up and looked at the offered hand.
It had been a long day.
It had brought him to the brink of what he could handle and right back again.
He thought of Jessica’s eyes when she’d asked him if he thought she was pretty, of leading Titch through the forest in the winter twilight, of Victoria too weak to carry on the ride, of Gingerbread Man rolling around in the sand and of Liberty, strong and dependable throughout, beautiful, kind and maybe, just maybe, not quite as unattainable as he’d thought.
He shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I can’t.”
He left quickly and shut the door quietly on the way out.
*****
The stable block was empty. Liberty had evidently left without him and as he walked slowly down the aisle towards the doors, listening to the horses shuffling in their boxes, he thought it was befitting to be doing this on his own. He’d entered alone, he would exit the same.
He picked up the pace and his hectic steps drowned out the suppressed sound coming from Oliver’s box, the last on the right. One hand already on the door that would spit him back out into a horseless world, he stopped for a moment and suddenly heard it.
Someone was crying. Surreptitiously and as quietly as humanly possible.
He turned back and stepped up to the cob’s stable. On the other side of the pony he saw Liberty sitting in the far corner, knees drawn up and forehead resting on them as ripple after ripple of silent tears shook her body.
Tull pushed the bolt on the door to the side and entered the box. Oliver let off his hay net for a moment and looked at the boy, blew out his nose then returned to the task of eating. Tull pushed the pony’s neck up enough to dive under to the
other side and crouched down in front of the girl. Liberty who had glanced up at him during the manoeuvre was now wiping her face with her sleeve.
“Hey,” she grinned, her tone all ‘fancy meeting you here’ and ‘I haven’t been sobbing my heart out, honest’.
Tull frowned, “I can see the tears, Liberty.”
She grinned harder, “You need to get your eyesight checked. No bawling happening around here,” she sniffled, “I need a tissue. – What did Lisa want?”
Tull sat back on his haunches and shuffled around to her side, back against the stable wall. He looked down at himself. Underneath his jacket and jumper he was wearing his favourite T-shirt. It was nothing terribly special, just plain white with long black and white striped sleeves, thinned and softened from a million washes but he loved it. He sighed, dug under his layers, grabbed the hem and bit it with his incisors until he got the beginnings of a tear. He tore out a not very square piece, smoothed the rest of his clothing back into place and handed the scrap of fabric to Liberty.
“Here.”
She took it wide-eyed and stared at it for a moment, “Thanks. You could have just got me some loo roll from the toilet, you know.”
He shrugged and looked politely ahead into the space between the cob’s sturdy legs while she blew her nose. When she was finished she nudged his shoulder with her own.
“Go on. Spill. What did she say?”
“She offered me lessons on Gingerbread Man,” he answered hollowly, still staring at the underside of Oliver’s belly.
Liberty turned her head to face his profile and although technically not meeting her eyes he knew she was frowning. Frown number 48: ‘What on earth?!?’
“That’s great, Tull,” she said somewhat unsurely, “It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? Don’t let the sadness of today spoil it for you. Be happy. It’s a great opportunity.”
He breathed out, long and audibly.
“I didn’t take her up on it,” he let the back of his head roll sideways along the cold wall to face her. She was only inches away from him and he could see her pupils inflate in the changing light.