Chapter Twenty-four

Miss Jessie and Miss Flora were the first to leave the big house. They moved into the vicarage with their governess. Although confused by all the upheaval, they seemed happy enough to stay with the vicar and his young family, at least until their mother was settled overseas.

I led Merrylegs up the road to join them the next day. “You be a good boy now, won’t you?” I said, kissing his nose as I let him into the little paddock beside the church.

“Don’t worry, Joe. I’ll look after him,” promised Flora, swinging on the gate.

“I know you will,” I said.

I wished I could tell her how Merrylegs had once been my pony and how jealous I had been when she first rode him. But I knew now that what made Merrylegs truly happy was having someone young to pet and ride him . . . and bring him plenty of apples, carrots and sugar lumps, of course.

“Goodbye, old friend,” I whispered in his soft ears, as Flora climbed down from the gate and began to rummage through her pockets looking for a treat. At least amidst all the uncertainty I knew Merrylegs was safe; the kindly vicar had promised he could live out his days in the paddock even if Jessie and Flora moved abroad to join their parents later.

Flora flung her arms around my waist.

“I wish you didn’t have to go away, Joe,” she whispered.

“Me too, Miss Flora,” I said. “Me too.”

If only we could all have stayed at Birtwick: Flora and Merrylegs. James and Ginger. Me and Beauty. . .

But it wasn’t to be. Our whole world was about to be torn apart.

The squire did all he could to find kind homes for the horses and jobs for the staff.

The twins were to work in the gardens of a big estate near to their mother.

“It is all very well, but I hoped we would be off to London for a real adventure, like Dick Whittington,” said Wilf with a sigh.

“I’m just glad we’ll be able to pop home for a slice of Mother’s apple pie on Sundays,” said Sid.

Caleb was to be apprenticed as a butcher’s boy in the village, something which seemed to fill him with joy.

“I can already skin a rabbit in seven seconds,” he beamed.

Daisy was to be housemaid for the doctor. And Doris had found a job in the White Lion hotel, where we had stayed on the night of the fire.

Mr Manly was to go all the way to Devonshire, where one of the squire’s oldest friends ran a stud.

“Mrs M is quite beside herself with excitement,” he chuckled. “Our new cottage has a view of the sea. And Squire Gordon has given us old Justice and the cart to keep for ourselves.”

Several of the other horses were going to the Devonshire stud too but the master there had no need for Ginger or Beauty. He had no need for any new stable lads either. So James and I had nowhere to go. Every day we hoped for news – that work might have been found for us – but every day there was nothing. James grew more and more worried.

“I don’t care where we go,” I whispered to Black Beauty. “We’ll live wild like gypsies on the road, just so long as we can be together.”

Finally, the morning arrived of the master and mistress’s departure, and James and I still had no idea of our fate.

We had harnessed Ginger and Beauty to the coach so we could take the master and mistress to the station. The squire came down the steps from the big house carrying Mrs Gordon in his arms. She had her eyes half closed and looked pale and worn.

James held the horses’ heads while I opened the carriage door.

“Ah. Little Joe,” the mistress murmured, lifting her head with an effort. “You were such a favourite with our Flora. And I have good news – I have found a place for you. . .”

The squire laid the mistress gently down on the cushions inside the carriage.

“Save your breath, my dear. Allow me to explain,” he said.

He gestured for me to follow him towards James and the horses.

“My poor wife was so very anxious to find you both a position,” he said. “As was I, of course. She has been writing notes for days, even though the doctor told her she must not vex herself. And then, last night, at last, an answer came. It is from Earlshall Park where the Earl of Westop lives. The countess is looking for a new pageboy to ride on her carriage and my wife told her how splendid you looked in your livery, Joe.”

“That is very kind, sir.” I tried my best to sound pleased. I was about to open my mouth and ask what would happen to Beauty when the squire carried on.

“Better still, Mr York, the coachman there, is looking for a new under-groom. It will be a promotion for you, James, but I have sent word that I cannot think of a better man for the job.”

“Thank you, sir.” James bowed his head, but he did not look as happy as I might have expected. Every stable lad dreamed of becoming a groom. Perhaps James was like me, and all he could think about was Ginger. He loved that difficult old mare almost as much I loved Beauty, I think.

“Well, then,” the squire said, with a contented nod. “Let’s begin the journey, shall we?”

“Wait! If you please, sir,” I caught hold of his sleeve; James shot me an iron look, but I did not let go. “What is to happen to the horses?”

“These two?” Squire Gordon stroked Ginger and Beauty’s forelocks. “Did I not say? They are coming with you to live at Earlshall Park. You are to drive the carriage over there later today.”

“Oh thank you, sir!” I flung my arms around the squire’s neck, even though I heard James gasp with shock. “Thank you, mistress.” I dashed to the carriage, stuck my head through the open doorway and blew her a kiss.

“You are very welcome, Joe.” She smiled and tried to lift her head.

“Right. Well, yes. Best be off.” The squire looked so surprised that anyone would think I had thrown a bucket of water over his head.

“Joe!” James hissed at me. I paid no attention. I ducked under his arm, kissed Ginger’s nose and buried my head in Beauty’s mane.

“Everything is going to be all right now. We will be together,” I said.

I thought Beauty might be scared when we reached the railway station. The steam train was puffing and billowing like a dragon. I should have known better. Although Ginger fretted and squirmed, Beauty stood still as a statue, flicking his ears to show he was interested but not afraid.

“Brave boy!” I held the horses’ heads, while James – who was stronger and taller – helped the squire carry the mistress to the platform.

“Goodbye, boys. God bless you,” she called.

“Good luck,” said the master.

“Thank you! Goodbye,” James called out. But I could not speak. It was all too much; my joy and relief knowing I would be with Beauty after all, and my worry wondering if the poor mistress would ever see her little girls or return to England again.

I slipped behind the Beauty to hide my tears.

Then the guard whistled and the train rattled away.

James watched till it was out of sight, then rejoined me at the carriage.

“We will never see that poor lady again,” he said quietly. “Never.”

“She was our guardian angel,” I said. It was true. She would never know how grateful I was for her kindness, or that even at the very end she had always thought of others, and found a way for Beauty and I to stay together.

“Goodbye,” I whispered, although she was long gone. Then I climbed up beside James on the carriage as he turned the horses around, ready to head for Earlshall Park, our new home.