side and felt the sobs start all over again.
For the next few days, Ellie walked around in a daze. Nothing really seemed to touch her. She did all the jobs she had to do, went to school and rode the horses, but all she wanted was just to get through each day, living for the moments when she could be alone and properly think about Spirit. Waking up each morning was awful. Ellie would blink her eyes open, feeling sick inside, as the realization of what had happened crashed over her. She would pull the covers over her head, unable to face the thought of another day without Spirit. But she had to. She couldn’t stay in bed; she had to get up, carry on.
She spoke to Joe on the phone and told him what had happened. “Oh, Els. I’m sorry,” he said in dismay.
Her heart clenched. The line was so clear it sounded as if he was just down the road. “Yeah, well… How’s everything with you?” She’d had emails from him, telling her he’d settled in well and saying how great Ray was.
“Good. But that’s not important. How are you?”
She swallowed. She knew if he was too nice to her she’d cry. “I’m…” she hesitated. What could she say? “I’m doing OK,” she managed.
“How’s Dad been?”
“Oh, you know. Mad with Luke for digging a grave for Spirit, shouting at everyone ’cause we’re so busy. He hasn’t found another groom to replace you yet.”
“And completely ignoring the fact Spirit’s died?” Joe said, knowing his dad well.
“Yeah.” Her uncle had said very little to her about Spirit. She hadn’t expected him to. After all, he hadn’t offered her a single word of sympathy when her parents had died and so it didn’t surprise her that he didn’t try to comfort her in any way or make any exceptions to her workload on the yard. If anything he was making her work harder—now she had Joe’s ponies to ride too.
“I’m so sorry,” Joe said again. “I wish I was there.”
You could have been! It took an effort to bite the words back. It was hard not to feel angry. Since Spirit had died, anger was one of the feelings that most often swirled around inside her. Anger, bitterness, a feeling that it wasn’t fair. “I’d better go,” she said, suddenly not wanting to talk to him any more.
“Call me again soon.”
“Yep,” Ellie said briefly. She clicked the phone off.
And after that, she didn’t call him again. She just couldn’t face it. Every time she thought about him she wanted to blame him for not being there. If he rang her, she made excuses not to talk to him and she replied with just a few lines to his long emails, saying she was fine. It was what she said to anyone who asked. She felt disconnected from everyone and everything.
When she returned from school on the Monday, eight days after Spirit’s death, she found Len, Helen, Luke, and Stuart gathered around Fern’s stable door. John was inside. Just from the way they were all standing, Ellie could tell something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” She went up to Luke.
His face looked serious. “Grass sickness. It’s Fern.”
Ellie stared at him uncomprehendingly. “Grass sickness?” She knew it was a serious illness. “But she was fine this morning.”
“It often comes on suddenly. She started looking colicky after you’d gone to school. She’s got it bad. She’s started with muscle tremors now. John will have to put her to sleep.”
Ellie waited for the shock to hit her, but it didn’t. She felt immune, removed even from news as awful as that. “Oh.” She saw Luke look at her in surprise.
“Oh?”
Ellie realized that her reaction wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “That’s dreadful,” she faltered. “What made it happen? Where did she catch it from? What about the others?”
“John said it’s not contagious. It just happens in some horses. Their gut freezes—gets paralyzed—and they can’t digest any food. There are all sorts of factors that bring it on.”
“What about the foal?”
For the next few days, Ellie walked around in a daze. Nothing really seemed to touch her. She did all the jobs she had to do, went to school and rode the horses, but all she wanted was just to get through each day, living for the moments when she could be alone and properly think about Spirit. Waking up each morning was awful. Ellie would blink her eyes open, feeling sick inside, as the realization of what had happened crashed over her. She would pull the covers over her head, unable to face the thought of another day without Spirit. But she had to. She couldn’t stay in bed; she had to get up, carry on.
She spoke to Joe on the phone and told him what had happened. “Oh, Els. I’m sorry,” he said in dismay.
Her heart clenched. The line was so clear it sounded as if he was just down the road. “Yeah, well… How’s everything with you?” She’d had emails from him, telling her he’d settled in well and saying how great Ray was.
“Good. But that’s not important. How are you?”
She swallowed. She knew if he was too nice to her she’d cry. “I’m…” she hesitated. What could she say? “I’m doing OK,” she managed.
“How’s Dad been?”
“Oh, you know. Mad with Luke for digging a grave for Spirit, shouting at everyone ’cause we’re so busy. He hasn’t found another groom to replace you yet.”
“And completely ignoring the fact Spirit’s died?” Joe said, knowing his dad well.
“Yeah.” Her uncle had said very little to her about Spirit. She hadn’t expected him to. After all, he hadn’t offered her a single word of sympathy when her parents had died and so it didn’t surprise her that he didn’t try to comfort her in any way or make any exceptions to her workload on the yard. If anything he was making her work harder—now she had Joe’s ponies to ride too.
“I’m so sorry,” Joe said again. “I wish I was there.”
You could have been! It took an effort to bite the words back. It was hard not to feel angry. Since Spirit had died, anger was one of the feelings that most often swirled around inside her. Anger, bitterness, a feeling that it wasn’t fair. “I’d better go,” she said, suddenly not wanting to talk to him any more.
“Call me again soon.”
“Yep,” Ellie said briefly. She clicked the phone off.
And after that, she didn’t call him again. She just couldn’t face it. Every time she thought about him she wanted to blame him for not being there. If he rang her, she made excuses not to talk to him and she replied with just a few lines to his long emails, saying she was fine. It was what she said to anyone who asked. She felt disconnected from everyone and everything.
When she returned from school on the Monday, eight days after Spirit’s death, she found Len, Helen, Luke, and Stuart gathered around Fern’s stable door. John was inside. Just from the way they were all standing, Ellie could tell something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” She went up to Luke.
His face looked serious. “Grass sickness. It’s Fern.”
Ellie stared at him uncomprehendingly. “Grass sickness?” She knew it was a serious illness. “But she was fine this morning.”
“It often comes on suddenly. She started looking colicky after you’d gone to school. She’s got it bad. She’s started with muscle tremors now. John will have to put her to sleep.”
Ellie waited for the shock to hit her, but it didn’t. She felt immune, removed even from news as awful as that. “Oh.” She saw Luke look at her in surprise.
“Oh?”
Ellie realized that her reaction wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “That’s dreadful,” she faltered. “What made it happen? Where did she catch it from? What about the others?”
“John said it’s not contagious. It just happens in some horses. Their gut freezes—gets paralyzed—and they can’t digest any food. There are all sorts of factors that bring it on.”
“What about the foal?”
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