Loving Spirit

memories they had shared that morning. Where were you before you want to the trekking centre?
    A picture of the tall man with the whip came into her mind.
    Who was he?
    Ellie saw Spirit travelling in a horsebox. The journey ended with a jolt and there was a rush of light as the ramp banged down. A groom led him out on to a smart yard. She could sense the nervous energy about the Arab horses looking over the white stable doors. They paced around, tossing their heads.
    Pictures flashed through her mind like a slide show. The horses being led out in hand and ridden, taken to shows, but never going out in the fields, never being allowed to roll and play. They had good food – lots of it. It fattened them up, but also gave them so much energy that when they did go out of their stables they pranced and fought for their heads. The tall man was in charge. He was a good rider but hard, demanding instant obedience. The bit in Spirit’s mouth was harsh and the man wore spurs. Ellie felt Spirit’s confusion, torn between the energy that was rushing through him and the man exerting absolute control.
    The picture changed and she saw Spirit one night, lying down in the stable, stuck against the wall. He kicked and struggled before finally freeing himself with a twist and getting to his feet, but she could sense the pain in his back now. When the man came the next day, no one could see the pain but it was there. As the saddle was put on, the pain increased. Spirit kicked out but the groom just shouted and hit him in the stomach.
    It hurt .
    The tall man took him to the school and tried to mount.
    No . Spirit sidled round and was smacked again. The man swung himself into the saddle and Ellie gasped as a red-hot needle of pain shot through her own back. She saw Spirit squeal and buck, throwing the man off on to the ground. The man got to his feet, shouting. He walked over, Spirit tried to shoot away.
    I tried to tell him. I tried to stop him .
    The man called two more grooms to help. They forced Spirit still while the man mounted again, but the second his weight hit the saddle the pain jabbed again. Half-maddened, Spirit reared up and then plunged forward, bucking like a wild thing until the man hit the ground. This time he didn’t get up so quickly.
    Spirit was led back to the stall. Ellie felt his relief at having the saddle taken off and then his fear as atall figure loomed in the doorway. The bolts slid back and the man came in, whip in hand.
    I’d tried to stop him riding me. I tried to tell him about the pain. I didn’t mean to be bad …
    She saw the whip raised, heard it slashing down through the air and felt it bite into her, and then the pictures stopped.
    Ellie took a deep trembling breath. She knew the physical pain from the beating had left Spirit, but the fear and confusion still filled his mind.
    He looked at her. Why?
    Ellie swallowed, not knowing what to say. What answer could she give? Because people can and do? She hated it but it was true. Sometimes bad stuff happened because people were ignorant or cruel. And sometimes it just happens because life’s like that , she thought, feeling desolate as an image of her mum and dad filled her mind. She had a flashback to the day before they’d died in the crash. They’d been getting ready to go away, arguing in a good-humoured way as they packed.
    Ellie’s eyes stung with tears. She started to force the memory away, but just then Spirit turned his head and nuzzled her shoulder. She could feel the softness of his skin, feel the love coming from him, and sensed him asking her about it. Swallowing, she let herself remember.
    ‘Come on, Ellie. Your mum doesn’t need all thesethings. Tell her.’ She could hear her dad’s voice. ‘You’re on my side, aren’t you?’ he’d appealed.
    ‘Nope!’ She’d darted over to the bed and picked up the pile of books and clothes her dad had just taken out of her mum’s packed suitcase. ‘You can never take too many books and clothes.’ She’d dumped them back in the suitcase and her dad had tickled her.
    She’d squealed and tripped over, almost falling on top of her mum who’d grabbed a hairbrush and brandished it at Ellie’s dad. ‘You will not take my clothes and books!’
    ‘Honestly! You girls!’ Rolling his eyes at them both, her dad had left the room.
    Her mum had laughed and put her arms round Ellie. Ellie remembered the faint scent of her, felt the softness of her cheek against hers.
    ‘I’m going to