Loving Spirit

horsebox?
    Yes .
    Ellie thought about the image Spirit had just sent. She’d tried talking to Picasso and it hadn’t worked. Still, maybe she could try again. If she could communicate with him like she did with Spirit, then she could explain that there was no snake. And Spirit could help too. He seemed to be saying that if he was in the horsebox, maybe Picasso would go in once he realized there was no snake. She knew how much Picasso liked and trusted Spirit.
    An idea suddenly shot through her like a firework going off. Maybe she could do another deal with her uncle – get him to agree to let her keep Spirit and not send him to the sale if she got Picasso into the horsebox.
    It might just work. The plan filled Ellie’s mind, blocking everything else out. But would her uncle agree?
    There’s only one way to find out , she realized.
    Carried away by her excitement at the idea, shekissed Spirit and hurried to the stable door. ‘I’ll be back soon. I’ve got to talk with Uncle Len!’
    Ellie raced into the house, unable to think about anything but her plan. Her uncle was watching a football match on TV. He had a bottle of beer beside him and his feet were up on the footstool.
    Ellie burst into the room, the idea spilling out of her even before she’d stopped. ‘Uncle Len! If I get Picasso to go into the horsebox – if I cure him of being scared – will you let me keep Spirit?’
    Len stared incredulously. ‘Cure Picasso? What are you blithering on about?’
    Ellie’s heart pounded. ‘If I get him to load, can I keep Spirit?’
    Not even bothering to answer, her uncle turned the TV up with the remote.
    ‘Please!’ Ellie moved so she was standing in front of him and he couldn’t see the screen. ‘Let me try.’
    ‘Get out the way.’
    Ellie stood there stubbornly.
    Len looked at her face. ‘Oh, I see, you fancy yourself as some sort of flamin’ horse whisperer now, do you?’
    ‘No. I’m not a horse whisperer. But just give me one try. I think I might be able to do it.’
    Please, please, please , she begged him inside her head.
    Len hesitated, but then to her delight he nodded. ‘Go on then. If it’ll mean you’ll leave me in peace, then yes, you can try tomorrow. But only tomorrow. I’m not wasting any more time after that. We’ll sedate him and get him in that way.’
    ‘But if I do it tomorrow, will you let me keep Spirit?’ Ellie pushed. ‘You won’t send him to the sale on Thursday?’
    ‘Yes … if .’ The snort on the word made it clear Len felt she didn’t have a chance. ‘Now move yourself out of the ruddy way.’
    ‘Thank you!’ Ellie gasped, scooting hastily to one side just as Joe came into the room.
    ‘What’s going on?’ he asked curiously.
    Ellie dragged him through to the kitchen to explain. ‘I’ve told your dad I’m going to get Picasso to go into the horsebox!’ she said, her eyes shining. ‘It’ll be in exchange for keeping Spirit. Isn’t that a brilliant idea?’
    Through her excitement, she became aware that Joe was staring at her. ‘You’ve said what?’
    Ellie repeated it.
    ‘But what was the point of saying that?’ Joe looked as if she’d just told him she was going to walk on the moon. ‘You’ll never get Picasso in. Stuart and I have been trying all day. Dad’s right, the only way now is to sedate him.’
    Ellie wished she could explain it. ‘I just think Ican.’ I hope I can , she added to herself, the first few doubts beginning to push through her initial excitement.
    ‘You’re mental,’ Joe said, shaking his head. An admiring smile pulled at his lips, though. ‘But I wouldn’t put anything past you. If anyone can do it, you can, Els. When are you going to try?’
    Ellie took a breath. ‘Tomorrow morning. First thing.’ She went to the door.
    ‘Where are you going now?’ Joe asked in surprise.
    ‘Back out to the stables.’
    ‘It’s gone nine o’clock!’
    But Ellie was already out of the door. She needed to see Spirit. As she ran across the yard, reality began to sink in. It was a great idea, but would she be able to do it? She’d tried talking to Picasso before and it hadn’t worked.
    She slowed to a walk as she imagined her plan failing and her uncle laughing at her.
    Don’t think about that . The newspaper in the tackroom with the horse sale advert circled in red ink swam into her head. No, her plan had to work. She had to talk to Picasso and persuade him to go in.
    Spirit was lying down in his stable now. Ellie sat