Phantom Horse 1: Phantom Horse by Pullein-Thompson Christine

Author:Pullein-Thompson, Christine [Pullein-Thompson, Christine]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: JUVENILE FICTION / Animals / Horses
ISBN: 9781841359250
Publisher: Award Publications Limited
Published: 2012-02-04T16:00:00+00:00

7

I got up very early. I wanted to say goodbye to all the animals before I left. I had an idea it would be ages before I was allowed to see the Millers' house again.

George and Joe were milking the house cows. They asked after Angus and let me try my hand at milking. They were very pleased that Angus wasn't hurt. I had never seen a cow milked by hand before and I wasn't much good at it. I wandered back to the house and met Pete. “You get earlier and earlier,” he said.

We fed the horses together and Pete asked whether I would like to take Easter and the bay mare back to Mountain Farm. I said that I'd better ask my parents first.

I hardly ate any breakfast because of being sad about leaving. When I had finished I said goodbye to Annie, and then I heard Dad hooting impatiently outside the front door. I rushed into the dining-room, where the Millers were still eating, and shouted goodbye to everyone. I kissed Cop, and rushing outside I ran straight into a pillar.

Dad said, “Do look where you're going. Have you hurt yourself? We don't want any more accidents.”

I rubbed my head. “No, I'm okay,” I said, but I hit my head again as I got into the car.

“You seem determined to do yourself in,” Dad remarked.

I felt cross. “How's Angus?” I asked.

“Completely recovered,” Dad replied.

I waited for him to ask how we came to be in the mountains. But he didn't. We drove away from the Millers' house, down the long drive, in silence.

Mountain Farm looked very small. The yard seemed tiny. Dad said, “I'll just drop you and drive on. I'm late already.”

Angus was waiting by the front door. “Hello,” he called.

He looked marvellous, but tiny after Phil and Pete. “I only had concussion,” he said. “The hospital was awful; they kept me in a darkened room and there was absolutely nothing to do.”

Angus and I wandered round to the stable after I had seen Mum. “You know we're not to ride again for the whole holidays, don't you?” he asked. I felt a huge lump rising in my throat. “I told them everything. What else could I do?” he asked.

“Of course. You couldn't do anything else,” I said.

“It sounded so awful when I started to explain. Not at all like it really was. I expect you could have told them better,” Angus said. “They were nice about it really. I mean I suppose we had to have some sort of punishment, I expect if we had children, we'd do just the same.”

“You mean about punishing them?” I asked. “Personally, I'd much rather be smacked or made to write I must do what my parents tell me five hundred times. Wouldn't you?”

“Much. But the point is they wanted to choose the worst punishment they could think of,” Angus said.

“Well, they've certainly succeeded,” I replied. I saw the rest of the holidays stretching before us, long sunny days, beautiful early mornings.

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