Hopes (8 page)

Fern was the mare Len had sold to his friend Bob. Now Bob’s horses were all being sold off, Len had bought her back at half the price and so was very pleased with his deal.

“What’s the foal called?” Ellie asked Joe as they walked past the mare and foal’s paddock on the day they arrived.

“Her show name’s Oakmist Fantasia. She doesn’t have a stable name yet. We’ll have to think of one. Dad will probably just call her ‘the foal’ for now.”

Ellie watched the foal trotting around in circles. She was gorgeous. She had a fluffy chestnut coat and a sticking-up, cream-colored mane and short tail. Her legs were long and gangly like Bambi’s, her dark eyes large. Seeing Ellie and Joe, the foal halted and stared at them, her tiny ears pricked, her expression full of intelligence.

As Ellie looked at her face, a prickle ran over her skin. For a moment, she felt drawn to the foal, almost like she had to Spirit when she had first met him. The filly’s eyes met Ellie’s, but then she tossed her head and wheeled away, kicking up her heels almost defiantly.

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Joe said.

“Yeah.” Ellie frowned and then shook her head, dismissing the feelings. Of course she wanted to look at the foal—all foals were cute and this one was particularly pretty.

“Look at her fan club,” Joe said, nodding to where the geldings were watching from the fence. They were all staring adoringly at the filly. Gem in particular looked besotted. He was hanging his head over the top rail, his eyes goofy as he watched the little foal who was now showing off, prancing around in front of him.

“She’s going to be a character,” Joe said. “When she came out of the horsebox, she was really wary of everyone. She wouldn’t leave Fern’s side and she even tried to kick Stuart, but since she’s been out in the field she’s started relaxing. Mind you, she still doesn’t want to come near any human. I don’t think she’s been handled much at all.”

“The journey must have been really upsetting for her as well,” Ellie said, thinking how it must have seemed through the filly’s eyes. She wouldn’t have known where she was going or what was happening. If the only contact she’d had with humans since she’d been born was being forced into a horsebox, it was no wonder she was feeling wary of people.

Joe nodded. “Hopefully, she’ll settle down soon. Fern’s lovely. She’s won loads of lightweight working hunter classes. She could have been a show jumper, I reckon. Dad’s really pleased to have her back and to have her foal. She should make a really good brood mare if this filly’s anything to go by.”

Ellie glanced again at the foal, but then she remembered Spirit. How was he? She caught him and brought him in from the field. Once he was in his stable she checked him over, her heart sinking. He still had the lumps on his chest; they seemed bigger and the swelling on his tummy had grown too.

The next morning, she had a phone call from John before she went to school. The results of the blood tests were back. They showed anemia and a high white blood cell count, which John said didn’t look good but still didn’t prove anything definite. They had to wait for the biopsy results, which would not be through until Monday.

It was a long weekend for Ellie. She had to help her uncle at a show on Sunday, although none of the ponies she rode were competing. She wanted to stay with Spirit, but there was no way she would be allowed to miss it. Thankfully, there was so much to do she didn’t have time to think about Spirit much. Joe was riding Wisp and his working hunter pony, Barney, and two of the livery horses were also going: Darcey and Willow who were owned by clients of Len. Ellie hoped she and Joe would be able to sit and talk in the horsebox on the way there—she’d been so busy with Spirit she hadn’t seen much of Joe all week, but Len made Joe sit in the cab with him.

Ellie noticed more and more as the day went on that Len was keeping them apart, or making sure he was around if they were together.

The only time he left them alone was when Ray arrived at the show and Len went for a drink with him mid-afternoon after most of the classes his ponies were entered in had finished. Joe and Ellie sat on the ramp of the box, chatting. It was just great to be together. Len came back, looking like he was in a good mood.

“I want a word with you, Joe.”

“Sure,” Joe said, looking at him expectantly.

“On your own.”

Ellie shrugged. “I’ll go and check what class is on.” There was just the Intermediate Championship that

Joe had qualified Wisp for still to go. She left them to it.

When she returned, Joe was preparing Wisp for the championship while Len sorted some things out in the living accommodation. “So what did your dad want to talk to you about?” Ellie asked curiously.

“Nothing,” Joe muttered.

“Nothing?”

“Well, something.” Joe shook his head. “We can talk about it later.” Ellie saw that he looked really unhappy.

“Are you OK?” she asked in concern.

“I really can’t talk about it now. The championship will be starting soon. Can you finish Wisp off while I change?”

“Sure.” Ellie frowned and watched him go into the living accommodation. What was going on? What had Len said to him? He’d been fine before.

She got Wisp ready, repainting his hooves, tightening his girth and running a cloth over his sleek sandy coat, still puzzling about it.

Joe seemed distracted throughout the championship and Wisp played up, cantering on the wrong leg and tossing his head. He wasn’t chosen as champion or reserve. However, to Ellie’s astonishment, Len seemed fairly philosophical. “Never mind. Another time,” he said as Joe came out.

Joe nodded and dismounted.

“Guess you had a bit on your mind, lad.” Len nodded at Ellie. “So, have you told her then?”

“No.”

“Told me what?” Ellie demanded.

Len met her gaze. “Joe’s going to Canada.”

“Canada?” Ellie stared in surprise. “For a vacation?”

Len folded his arms, satisfaction clear on his face. “No, to live.” He took in her astonishment. “He’s going to work for Ray for a year, aren’t you, lad?”

Joe gave a brief nod, his eyes on Ellie. He looked desperate.

Ellie’s head spun. No. Joe couldn’t go. She needed him, particularly now. “When?” she whispered.

“Three weeks, just as soon as his exams finish,” pronounced Len.

Ellie felt as if the ground had abruptly vanished from under her feet.

“Right, let’s take this pony back to the trailer,” Len said, starting to lead Wisp away.

“I’m just getting a drink from the cafe,” said Joe, shooting a look at Ellie.

“Me too,” she said quickly.

And before Len could stop them, they had set off across the show ground together. “Hey! Come back here!” he shouted, but they quickly lost themselves in the crowd.

As soon as they were safely away, Ellie grabbed Joe’s arm. “You can’t go!”

“I don’t want to, Ellie,” he protested. “But Dad’s sorted it all out with Ray today.”

“Well, make him unsort it. Tell him you won’t leave.”

“I tried. I even asked if I could wait a bit, maybe go next year or after the summer—I don’t want to leave while Spirit’s so ill—but he says I have to go as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

A blush spread across Joe’s cheekbones. “Because…because of you.”

“Me?”

“Well, us. He thinks there’s something going on and, you know, with us being cousins and stuff it’s freaking him out.”

Ellie hit her head with her hands. “But there isn’t anything happening!”

“He won’t believe it. I tried to tell him, but you know what Dad’s like—he gets a bee in his bonnet about something and he just won’t listen. He’s convinced of it.”

Ellie stared at him. “Well, we’ll make him believe it. He can’t just send you away. You can’t go.”

Joe looked at her helplessly. “I have to. He’s made up his mind.”

“So?” Ellie exclaimed. “Fight him! Refuse to go!”

“I can’t!” Joe’s voice rose.

“You can! Please!” Tears sprang to her eyes. “I need you to stay here.”

She saw the conflict written across his face and suddenly she knew there was nothing she could say to change things. She could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t going to fight. Her anger was replaced by a feeling of deep despair. She couldn’t imagine not having Joe to talk to and hang around with.

“I’ll email. Call. And I’ll be back in a year’s time. It’s not forever.”

Ellie swallowed. “Yeah. Whatever.” She looked away, hoping he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “We should buy that drink.”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he beseeched.

“Well, don’t go then!” Wrapping her arms tightly across her chest, she marched to the cafe. Joe sighed and followed her without saying another word.

Ellie was glad she was by herself in the horsebox on the way home. She needed time to think. Although she couldn’t bear the thought of Joe leaving, through her despair there was another little voice filtering in. Joe would have an amazing time in Canada, she was sure. He certainly needed to be away from his dad. He wouldn’t be bullied any more, shouted at, put down. Ray would teach him so much. He’d always wanted to work on a yard where they used natural horsemanship techniques.
It’s a good thing for him
, she told herself.

But what about me?

Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself of all the times Joe had helped her and been there for her since she’d arrived at High Peak Stables and she pushed down her anger and misery. She mustn’t be mad with him and make him feel awful. As they left the motorway and headed up into the mountains, Ellie came to a decision. Even though part of her felt hurt and betrayed that Joe wouldn’t fight it, she was going to try and be unselfish. It was going to happen whether she liked it or not and seeing as Joe was her best friend, she would try to be supportive however hard it was.

Swallowing, she rested her head against the window of the horsebox. It was beginning to feel like she was trapped in a nightmare. Joe was leaving and, she realized with a shiver, the results of Spirit’s biopsy were due the next day.

She stared out of the window, her stomach tying itself in knots, as they chugged on through the dark night.

THE PHONE CALL
Ellie had been dreading came after school. Even across the phone line she could hear the serious note in John’s deep voice. “Ellie, it’s not good news.”

Five minutes later, Ellie walked down the yard, everything feeling as if it was distorted, removed from reality. Turning towards Spirit’s stable, she broke into a run. He was standing, one hind leg resting, his neck low but as she opened the door he lifted his head and whinnied.

The words John had just spoken to her echoed through her head. “
It
is
lymphosarcoma… It’s spread through his body and is untreatable… He’ll gradually lose more and more weight… He won’t have long… At some point you will have to make the decision to have him put to sleep…
”

“No!” Ellie burst out with a sob.

Spirit breathed on her face in surprise.

She felt as if she was falling, plummeting through the air with no safety net or anything to catch her. He was going to die. She cried and cried, while Spirit nuzzled her patiently.

At last the tears dried up, and in the peace and quiet Ellie felt their minds merge.

Oh, Spirit.
She didn’t know what to say. How could she explain?

She didn’t have to.

I think I am going to die.

No!
Ellie couldn’t bear it.

I am.

How do you know
? she asked him.

I can feel it. Deep inside. My energy’s fading. I’m getting weaker.

Ellie shook her head.
You’re ill, but we can do stuff. There’re all sorts of things we can try.

I am not afraid of dying.

But
I’m
afraid of you dying!

She felt the change in his feelings. He raised his head and looked at her. “I am,” she whispered out loud, stroking his cheek. “Please…don’t die. I need you, Spirit.”

He breathed out softly.
Then I will stay.

When Ellie finally left the stable, Joe was the first person she saw. He took one look at her face and knew. “So you’ve spoken to John?”

She nodded, her throat too tight to talk.

“Oh, Els.” Joe came over and took her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

He moved to put his arms around her but, shaking her head, Ellie pulled away. She didn’t want to cry any more just then; she didn’t want to be comforted. She wanted to change things—make it all better.

“I’m going inside,” she managed to say. “To look on the Internet.”

“OK. Do you want me to tell everyone?”

She nodded and then went to the computer. She found out all she could about lymphosarcoma. Time and time again she read words that all said the same:
most cases do not survive more than a week or a few months.

She rubbed her eyes. She couldn’t accept it—she wouldn’t. There
had
to be something she could do. John had ruled out chemotherapy or aggressive drugs on the phone. He believed the cancer had spread too far through Spirit’s body. Ellie followed links to holistic sites that suggested a number of different therapies and remedies. She made a list of everything: herbal extracts, Bach flower remedies, Chinese medicine, acupuncture. Her grandmother in New Zealand kept her supplied with a generous allowance and most of the time Ellie had nothing to spend it on because her life revolved around the horses. She would use all the money she had to buy whatever remedies were supposed to help. She would do whatever it took. She
would
make him better.

Over the next few weeks, Ellie tried everything. Ignoring her uncle’s mockery, she ordered flower remedies and herbs and fed them to Spirit on apples and carrots which he ate, she sensed, more to please her than because he wanted to. She hand-fed him mashes flavored with fresh mint or molasses and honey. She massaged him with healing aromatherapy oils and even called in an acupuncturist. Her grandmother was lovely, promising to give her all the money she needed.

Ellie tried healing him herself. When she’d been little, she’d had the feeling that she could sense pain in animals’ bodies and, by putting her hands where the pain was, she could help ease it. She wasn’t sure if it ever worked and actually did any good, but she’d always hoped it had. She remembered it now. If she could talk to horses, maybe it wasn’t so mad to think she could heal them too. Since she had met Ray she had been reading on the Internet about people who could communicate with animals. Many of them also talked about being able to heal too so she tried placing her hands on him and letting energy flow through her, listening to her instincts and letting her hands move around his body just as they said they did.