‘Yes, I did.’ Nan sighed. ‘Look, I think it would be best if you went out for a little while. Walk down to the beach for an hour and leave me to finish clearing up. We'll both feel better by then.’
Tamzin didn't want to go anywhere but she was too shaken and ashamed of herself to argue. She hadn't seen the beach yet, and maybe some sea air would help to calm her down. Certainly it seemed like a good idea to stay out of Nan's way for a while.
Nan was still on her knees, searching the floor as if she didn't trust Tamzin to have found all the broken pieces. At the door Tamzin opened her mouth to try to apologize again. But Nan didn't even look up. Unhappily, Tamzin retreated to the hall, took her coat from the peg and went quietly out of the house.
F
rom the garden gate a path led down the valley towards the beach. Tamzin tramped along, watching the cliffs rising higher to either side. She smelled the sea before she saw it; a sharp, fresh, tangy smell that tingled in her nostrils and helped to clear her head. Then, a little way on, the valley suddenly opened out and there in front of her was the beach.
The tide was low and a huge, deserted expanse of smooth, pale sand stretched away in a great sweep to two massive and craggy headlands. Way out past the headlands were the white lines of the surf. Tamzin could hear it roaring, and even from this distance she could feel the strong wind blowing fine spray in her face. It was an awe-inspiring scene and it unnerved her just a little. But she ignored the feeling and walked down the slope of rocks and pebbles to the sand.
Beyond the headlands the beach stretched away and away in both directions. There were caves and rocks and pools at the foot of the cliffs, and off to the right a ruined stone building with a tall chimney teetered on the clifftop. The ruin looked brooding and unfriendly so Tamzin turned left and walked slowly along near the tideline, scuffing her feet in the sand. She was still badly shaken by what had happened, and Nan's fury made her feel even worse. Why hadn't she listened to Nan's warning? It was as if someone – or something – else had got into her mind and made her disobey. Then when she held the statue, it had seemed to move by itself. As if it had
wanted
her to break it.
She shivered and stopped walking, turning to gaze out at the sea. It looked grey and cold, and the waves rolled in ferociously, tumbling and clashing against each other. A long way out, a huge rock crag jutted up from the water. Its shape was vague in the low cloud and spray, but she could see white-topped breakers surging around it. It looked menacing and dangerous, and Tamzin turned away, shoving her cold hands into her jeans pockets.
Her fingers felt a small, hard object in one of the pockets. Puzzled, she pulled it out and stared at it. At first she couldn't work out what it could be; it simply looked like a piece of stone with rough edges. But then she turned it over and saw the glittering red chip set into the grey. It was a piece of the broken statue; part of the horse's head. She must have found it during the hunt for the last fragments, put it into her pocket, then forgotten all about it.
The last thing Tamzin wanted was a reminder of the statue, and for a moment she was tempted to fling the piece of stone into the sea. But then she remembered what Nan had said about finding all the pieces. Maybe she wanted to try to mend the statue? Tamzin thought that she ought to take it back before Nan discovered it was missing.
She slipped the fragment into her pocket again and turned to walk back the way she had come. As she rounded the headland she saw that she was no longer alone on the beach. Four ponies were coming towards her. One was being ridden, while the other three followed behind on leading reins. Nan had said there was a riding stable in the valley. The ponies must have come from there, and Tamzin watched with quickening interest as they came towards her. The rider was a dark-haired boy of about her own age. As they drew level he saw her staring and pulled his mount to a halt.
‘Hi,’ he said.
‘Hello.’ Tamzin pushed windblown hair out of her face and smiled uncertainly. Then she nodded at the ponies. ‘Are they all yours?’
‘Yes. Well, my mum and dad's, anyway. Like horses, do you?’
‘Oh, yes!’ Tamzin thought of the statue and added wryly, ‘Real ones, anyway.’
‘Do you ride?’
She shook her head. ‘I've never learned. But I'd love to.’
The boy grinned. ‘Then you've come to the right place! We own the stables up the valley. Are you here on holiday?’
Tamzin shook her head. ‘I've come to live with my nan while my parents are in Canada,’ she told him. ‘Her house is in the valley too. It's called Chapel Cottage.’
‘Oh! Then your nan must be Mrs Weston, the artist.’ The boy looked surprised. ‘We're neighbours, then.’ He jumped down from his saddle with an ease that Tamzin wistfully envied. ‘My name's Joel Richards. What's yours?’
‘Tamzin Weston.’ One of the ponies, which was almost pure white with just a hint of dapple grey, pushed its muzzle towards her, and she reached out and stroked it. The pony whickered; she felt his breath on her hand, and his warm, friendly, animal smell tickled her nostrils.
‘He's lovely,’ she said. ‘What's he called?’
‘Moonlight,’ Joel told her. He pointed to the others one by one. ‘And that's Pippin, that's Jester, and the one I'm riding is Sally-Ann.’ Moonlight was nuzzling Tamzin's coat now, hoping for titbits. ‘He's a greedyguts too!’ Joel added. Then: ‘What did you mean about only liking
real
horses? Your nan paints them, doesn't she? Don't you like her pictures?’
‘Oh, they're brilliant! It isn't that, it's…’ Tamzin stopped as she realized that she had been just about to blurt out the tale of the grey stone statue to a complete stranger. She shrugged. ‘It's a long story.’
‘I've got plenty of time.’ He saw her doubtful expression. ‘No, really. You look as if you want to talk about it. So tell me.’
To her own surprise, and almost before she realized what she was doing, Tamzin did tell him. Joel listened as she described how she had broken the statue, and how Nan had reacted. As she finished she pulled out the fragment she had found in her pocket, saying, ‘I'm supposed to have picked up every piece. So I'll have to take this back to Nan before she finds out it's missing, or I'll be in trouble all over again.’
She held the fragment out to show him. Moonlight had been standing quietly, half dozing in the way that horses do, but as Tamzin's hand passed close to his nose, his head suddenly jerked up. His ears went back, his nostrils flared and he shied away with a squealing noise that sounded partly like fear and partly like anger.
‘Moonlight!’ Hastily Joel grabbed at the reins as it seemed Moonlight might break free and bolt away. ‘Steady, boy, steady! What's the matter?’
Tamzin stared at the pony, then at the piece of the broken statue. ‘It was this,’ she said in a small voice. ‘He saw it, and he didn't like it.’
‘Oh, come on!’ Joel had calmed Moonlight down and was stroking his nose. ‘It's only a bit of stone. Here, give it to me.’ He took it and held it out towards Moonlight. ‘There you are, boy. That's all it is, look.’
Moonlight did look, and with a shudder he backed away, snorting.
Joel was astonished. ‘You're right; he doesn't like it. All right, Moonlight, all right.’ He shoved the fragment at Tamzin. ‘You'd better put it away where he can't see it again.’
An unpleasant thought came to Tamzin. Animals had a sort of sixth sense, didn't they? They knew when something was not good to have around. Suddenly she had a powerful urge to be rid of the fragment, not to have it near her any more.
She heard her own voice say, ‘I'd rather
throw
it away.’
Joel shrugged. ‘Well, throw it away, then.’
‘But Nan…’
‘She won't know if you don't tell her.’
That was true. Tamzin tried to convince herself that she was being silly, that a mere piece of stone couldn't possibly do her any harm. But there had to be a reason for the way Moonlight had behaved when he saw it. And she remembered how, in the moment before she dropped it, the little horse statue had squirmed in her hand.
I don't want anything to do with this!
The thought rushed into her mind, and she turned away from Joel and ran towards the sea. She reached the water's edge and stopped. The sound of the breakers seemed to swell and roar in her ears, and in the gloom the distant rock crag loomed like a threat.
Tamzin drew her arm back and hurled the piece of the statue as far out into the sea as she could.
She walked back to where Joel waited with the ponies. ‘Better?’ he asked.
Tamzin nodded. She
did
feel relieved now that the fragment was gone. ‘I'd better go back to Nan's,’ she said. ‘She'll be wondering where I am.’
‘Come up to the stables if you'd like to,’ Joel invited. ‘Any time.’
‘Thanks. I'd like that.’
He mounted Sally-Ann again, and Tamzin watched as he and all the ponies trotted away across the beach for their exercise. The sky was darkening ominously and in the distance veils of rain were sweeping across the sea. Tamzin shivered and hurried back towards the path. Once, she looked back. Joel and the ponies were some way off now, but she could see Moonlight more clearly than the rest. In the ominous light, his white coat seemed to be tinged with blue.
Just like all the horses in Nan's pictures.
T
he wind was rising and Tamzin could feel rain in the air by the time she got back to Chapel Cottage. At first she thought Nan wasn't in. But then she heard noises from the studio. Nan was there, still searching on the floor, and when she heard Tamzin's footsteps she looked up.
‘There's a piece of the statue missing!’ she said agitatedly. ‘I can't find it anywhere!’
Tamzin felt a terrible sense of guilt, and her face reddened. But she couldn't pretend, so she told Nan what she had done.
‘I'm sorry, Nan,’ she finished. ‘I just had to get rid of it. I couldn't bear having it around me.’
She expected Nan to be furious – but Nan wasn't. Instead she sighed heavily. ‘Oh, Tamzin. I can't blame you for feeling that.’ She got to her feet, her eyes sad and, Tamzin thought uneasily, just a little frightened. ‘What's done is done, and there's no changing it,’ she added. ‘The statue can't be mended now. I think the best thing I can do is bury it in the garden.’
‘Bury it?’ Tamzin echoed. ‘Why, Nan?’
Nan only shook her head. ‘Never mind. We won't talk about it any more. It's better that way.’
‘But –’
‘
Tamzin
.’ Nan's voice became stern. ‘I said we won't talk about it.’
She picked up the bag of pieces and went into the kitchen. Tamzin followed, in time to see her opening the back door.
‘Can I help?’ she asked timidly.
‘No,’ said Nan. She picked up a trowel from the windowsill and took it and the bag outside. From the doorway Tamzin watched as Nan walked to the furthest flowerbed, crouched down and began to dig a hole. It seemed to take her a long time; she dug very deeply, and Tamzin wondered why she should take so much trouble. At last, though, Nan was satisfied. She dropped the bag into the hole and started to fill it in. As she worked, her lips moved. She was muttering something but Tamzin was too far away to hear what it was. She shuffled her feet on the doorstep, feeling uneasy. What was Nan doing? Why had she insisted that the statue must be buried? What was going on?
Nan shovelled the last trowelful of earth into the hole and patted it down. As she started to get up, from the direction of the sea came a sudden deep roar. It sounded like an express train approaching. Tamzin turned towards it, frowning…
An enormous blast of wind came screaming up the valley and across the garden. It hit Nan full on and almost bowled her over. Staggering, she tried to regain her balance, and Tamzin screamed out to her in terror.
‘Nan!
Nan!
’
Her cry was torn from her and flung away, and she clung desperately to the door frame as the great wind tried to snatch her off her feet. Through the tangle of hair that whipped stingingly across her face she glimpsed Nan struggling towards the house. Nan's arm flailed towards Tamzin, and Tamzin reached out. Their fingers touched, they grasped each other, and Tamzin pulled with all her strength.