Loving Spirit by Linda Chapman

clothes, she hurried outside, desperate for a few moments alone with Spirit. It was bitterly cold still, but the rain and sleet had stopped. The horses were looking over their doors, banging their hooves impatiently against the wood as she ran past. The cats came trotting past the puddles, tails high, mewing at the thought of breakfast, but Ellie ignored them all.
    When she reached Spirit’s stable, she was takenaback by how ordinary he looked. He had straw in his white tail and his stable rug was hanging slightly to one side. But what had she been expecting? That’d he’d have sparkles floating round him or something?
    However, as their eyes met, Ellie saw an understanding there and suddenly she knew with an absolute, unshakable certainty that the evening before had happened just as she remembered it. She touched Spirit wonderingly. She couldn’t quite get her head round it, but suddenly her life felt totally different, almost as if she had discovered a completely new colour. She and Spirit had somehow connected. What now? It was as if she was standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down from a great height, not knowing what was beneath her or what would happen if she jumped.
    ‘What happens next?’ Ellie asked him helplessly.
    Outside, she heard the sound of stable doors opening on the yard and people calling to each other. She couldn’t stay long with Spirit now or she’d be in trouble.
    ‘I’ll see you later,’ she whispered to him. Trying to compose herself and look normal, she headed to the feedroom.
    Ellie might have tried to look normal but her thoughts were all over the place. She got shouted at for mixing up Gabriel and Hereward’s feeds andthen for tripping up with a wheelbarrow and spilling dirty straw all over the yard. When she started riding, Picasso sensed her distraction and played up, snatching at the bit and repeatedly shying away from one corner of the school.
    Len watched in the centre, his face growing darker by the second. ‘You’re riding like a sack of ruddy potatoes. Get him together! Come on!’ His voice rose. ‘Make him go into that corner! NOW!’
    Ellie used her legs hard. Picasso’s ears flattened, but he decided not to argue any more. However, a little while later when she started thinking about Spirit again he decided to throw in a buck and she almost flew over his head. Taking advantage of the fact that she had lost her reins and balance, he shot off down the school, swerving round Luke on Starlight.
    Len exploded with a string of swear words as, red in the face, Ellie grabbed her reins back and sat up.
    ‘For Christ’s sake, Ellie!’ Len thundered. ‘Get your act together! You’ve got your first flamin’ show to go to in three weeks.’
    ‘If we can get him into the lorry,’ muttered Joe, who was schooling Wisp at the end of the school. Picasso had refused to go into a horsebox since his aborted visit to the show.
    Joe gave Ellie a look of sympathy as she turned Picasso round, but Luke just grinned at her as she rode back up the school, her heart in her boots.‘You’re going to have to ride better than that,’ he said.
    Face still red, Ellie kept her attention on Picasso and rode him into place again behind Starlight.
    Len continued to shout at her all lesson and she was very glad when it was time to take Picasso in.
    At lunchtime Ellie breathed a massive sigh of relief as everyone else headed off the yard and she had a chance to be with Spirit on her own. Her fingers shook as she took off his rug. What was going to happen? Would it be like the night before? Would she be able to communicate with him and see his memories?
    She was so excited she found it hard to stand still. She tried touching his neck, but although he nuzzled her shoulders nothing happened. She moved impatiently to his head and stroked his face, waiting for some pictures to come into her mind. But none did. She ran her hands over him. Come on, come on , she thought. Talk to me, Spirit . But there