Philippa Gregory - Meridon

Mrs Greaves turned from the stove and wiped her hands on her working apron, her face inscrutable.

‘If Meridon comes in ill you take care of her, ma’am,’ he said to her. ‘Put her on the sofa in the parlour where you can keep an eye on her.’ She nodded. Dandy was frozen, a piece of bread half-way to her mouth.

‘Meridon to come into the parlour?’ Dandy demanded tactlessly.

A flicker of irritation crossed Robert’s face. ‘Why not?’ he said suddenly. ‘The only reason you two girls are housed in the stable yard is because I thought you would like your own little place, and it is easier for you to mind the horses. The two of you are welcome in the house, aye, and in the parlour too if you wish.’

I flushed scarlet at Dandy’s slip, and at Jack’s open-mouthed stare.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said flatly. ‘I’m well enough to work and I won’t need to rest. In any case, I’d not want to sit in the parlour.’

Robert pushed his chair back from the table and it scraped on the stone-flagged floor. ‘A lot of to-do about nothing,’ he said gruffly and went out of the kitchen. David got to his feet as well.

‘Half an hour’s rest,’ he said to the three of us. ‘I’d like to see this famous horse of yours, Meridon.’

I smiled at that and led all of them, Mrs Greaves as well, out to the stable yard to see my horse, my very own horse, in daylight.

He was lovely. In daylight, in a familiar stable yard, he was even lovelier than I had remembered him. His neck was arched high, as if there were Arab blood in him. His coat was a dark grey, shading to pewter on his hind legs. His mane and tail were the purest of white and silver, down his grey face there was a pale white blaze, just discernible. And four white socks on his long legs. He whickered when he heard my step and came out of the stable with just a halter on, as gently as if he had never thrown and rolled on a rider in his life. He threw up his head and sidled when he saw the others and I called:

‘Stand back, especially you Jack and David. He doesn’t like men!’

‘He’ll suit Meridon, then,’ said Dandy to Jack and he smiled and nodded.

Sea stood quiet enough then, and I held his head collar and smoothed his neck and whispered to him to be still, and not to be frightened, for no one would ever hurt him or shout at him again. I found I was whispering endearments, phrases of love, telling him how beautiful he was – quite the most beautiful horse in the world! And that he should be with me for ever and ever. That I had won him in Robert’s bet, but that in truth we had found each other and that we would never part again. Then I led him back down through the path at the side of the garden to the field and turned him out with the others to graze.

‘You’ll be wanting time off to train him,’ David said wryly, watching my rapt face as Sea stretched his long neck and trotted with proud long strides around the field.

‘Robert wanted me to work the other horses anyway,’ I said. ‘I was never to be your full-time pupil.’

David nodded. ‘And you’ve started your little savings fund,’ he said. ‘You’ll be a lady yet, Meridon.’

I was about to smile and turn off the remark when I suddenly remembered the gypsy at the street corner in Salisbury, just before I saw Sea, just before the bet and the ride and the fall. She had said I would get my home, my gentry home. She said that my mother and her mother would lead me home, and that I would be more at home there than either of them. I would indeed be a lady, I would make my way into the Quality. David saw my suddenly absorbed expression and touched me on the shoulder. I did not flinch at his touch.

‘Penny for your thoughts,’ he said.

‘I’ll not rob you,’ I replied at once. ‘I was thinking nothing which was worth sharing.’

‘Then I’ll interrupt your thoughts with some work,’ he said briskly and raised his voice so that the other two could hear: ‘Come on you two! A race back to the barn to warm you up. One, two, three, and away!’

That day’s training was the pattern for the following days of that week, and for the week after. Every day we worked, running, exercising, heaving ourselves up on the bar, pushing ourselves up from the floor using just our hands. Every day we grew stronger, able to run further, to do more of the exercises. Every day we ached a little less. I had learned the knack of swinging on the practice trapeze: I could build the swing higher and higher until it felt like flying. As the swing grew the swooping frightened feeling inside me grew, but I learned to almost enjoy that sudden down-rush with the air in my face and my muscles working to keep the swing moving, to build the speed and the momentum. Every day, though for some days I truly did not notice, David had raised the rigging on the trapeze so that it hung higher and higher from the floor until the only way to mount it was to go up the ladder at the side of the barn and swoop down with it.

Then one day, in the third week, while Dandy and Jack were practising swinging on the high trapeze in the roof of the barn, David called me off the practice trapeze.

I dropped to the ground and waited. I was scarcely out of breath at all now.

‘I want you to try going up the ladder today,’ he said gently. ‘Not to swing if you don’t want to, Meridon. I promised you I’d never force you, and I mean it. But for you to see if you have your nerve for heights now you are so confident on the practice trapeze. Besides, when you hang straight from the flying trapeze you are about the height from the catch-net as you are now from the floor. It’s just as safe, Meridon. There’s nothing to fear.’

I looked from his persuasive blue eyes up to the pedestal rigged at the roof of the barn, and at Dandy’s casual confident swing on the trapeze. She and Jack were practising doing tricks into the net. As I watched, uncertain if I could face the ladder up to the rocking pedestal, Dandy launched herself off the pedestal on the trapeze and flung herself off it in a ball. She somersaulted once and fell into the net on to her back, and bounced up smiling.

‘I’ll try,’ I said drawing a deep breath. ‘I’ll go up there at least.’

‘Good girl,’ David said warmly. He patted my back and called to Dandy. ‘Go up the ladder behind your sister. She’s going to see the view from the top.’ To Jack he snapped his fingers. ‘You come down,’ he said. ‘No point having all of you up there.’

I knew how to climb the ladder – heel to toe, heel to toe – and I knew to push up with my legs, not to try to haul myself up with my arms. The rope ladder trembled as I went up and I bit my tongue on a little gasp of fear.

I was afraid of stepping from the ladder to the pedestal board. It was such a tiny bit of wood with two raised poles to hold on to. It was only as wide as half my foot, and my bare toes curled over the edge as if I would grip like a dancing monkey on a stick. I clenched my hands around the poles on each side of the board, and saw my knuckles go white. I was bow-legged with fear and trying to balance. My stomach churned and I longed to piss in fright. There was nothing I could hold which was firm, which felt safe. I gave a little sob.

Dandy, coming up behind me on the ladder, heard me.

‘Want to come down?’ she asked. ‘I’ll guide you down.’

I was crouched on the pedestal now, shifted slightly to the right, both hands gripping the left-side pole. I looked at the jigging ladder where Dandy waited and feared it as much as the trapeze.

‘I’m afraid,’ I said. Fear had tightened my throat and I could hardly speak. My stomach pulsed with terror, my knees were bent like an old dame with rheumatism. I could not straighten up.

‘Is it bad?’ David called up from down below. I did not dare nod for fear that would shake the pedestal board. Dandy waited on the ladder.