Snow Foal--the perfect Christmas book for children by Susanna Bailey

Author:Susanna Bailey [Bailey, Susanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Egmont UK Ltd

Penny glanced at Addie every few seconds on the drive home, as if afraid that she might open the door and escape.

Addie wished she could escape. Escape from being Addie: Addie whose dad ran away – far away – back to the other side of the world where he was born; Addie whose mam ran away and got lost in her bottles; Addie, who made them both disappear.

She stared out through the windscreen. Dark clouds rolled across the sky, hung above the road ahead; washed the new colour from the moor.

Penny slowed the car as they approached a sharp bend in a wide sweep of road. Addie glimpsed the frightened eyes of a red stag, saw the flash of its white rump as it fled for cover.

Penny gave a small, excited shriek. ‘How wonderful,’ she said.

Addie ignored her. She hoped they hadn’t scared the stag too badly.

Closer to the farm, sheep and young lambs stood clear of the trees; gathered in the centre of the meadows, waiting. Gabe’s storm was coming, after all.

By the time Penny parked behind the Oaktree farmhouse, every bit of nearly-summer-blue sky was gone.

Addie didn’t want to see Ruth. She didn’t want Ruth’s soft eyes pulling her tears from their hiding place in front of everyone; not in front of Sunni’s smug, smiling face.

‘I’ve got to look after my foal,’ she told Penny. ‘Tell Ruth she doesn’t need to come and find me. I’m fine.’ She slammed the car door shut and headed for the barn.

A few dry leaves blew across the courtyard. They scuttled like frantic insects around Addie’s feet, swirled in the air; followed Addie in through the barn door.

The foal whinnied loudly. His eyes shone as he held Addie in his gentle gaze.

Addie threw her arms round his neck.

‘She didn’t come,’ she said. ‘She knew I was waiting for her, but she still didn’t come.’ She pressed her face into the foal’s wiry mane, breathed in his earthy scent.

She cried for Mam, cried for herself, cried for the foal whose mother might be calling for him in the lonely forest.

Calling, still calling.

Waiting for him to come home.

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