Scarlett - Cathy Cassidy [34]
‘OK,’ Kian says. ‘Ribbon? Now I’m scared.’
‘It’s not for you, idiot,’ I tell him.
‘The wishing tree?’
‘As if!’ I snort. ‘No, it’s just an idea I had, for Midnight. I meant to bring scissors, though…’
Kian chucks me the brush and walks over to the wishing tree. He reaches up through the branches, almost disappearing beneath the foliage, and brings down an ancient, bulging rucksack. A blackened tin pan is tied to the strap, and a battered spoon sticks out from one of the pockets. He fishes inside, pulls out a pocket knife and hands it over.
I open the blade and slice the ribbon into manageable lengths, then watch him hide the knife away, lift the rucksack back into the tree.
‘What else’ve you got hidden up there?’ I ask him. ‘A toothbrush? A sofa? A fifty-piece dinner service?’
‘Stuff.’ Kian shrugs, sitting down on a rock at the water’s edge. ‘A bedroll, supplies, some food and hay for Midnight.’
‘OK.’
I take the brush and start working through Midnight’s mane, smoothing out the tangles. When I was a kid, I dreamt of having my own pony – it was what I wanted more than anything. I used to imagine plaiting its mane with ribbon – now, at last, I can do it for real. The big black horse leans his face against my shoulder as I thread the thin red ribbon into his mane, weaving it in and out.
‘Know what I like so much about you?’ Kian asks, watching.
‘My wit, my charm, my gorgeous looks?’ I quip. ‘My skill with a horse brush and a bit of ribbon?’
‘Well, naturally’ Kian grins. ‘All of that. And the way you don’t ask too many questions. You just take me as I am.’
‘Weird, secretive boy who keeps all his worldly possessions in a tree? What’s to ask questions about?’
‘Seriously, though,’ Kian says.
‘Seriously. If you wanted me to know, you’d tell me, right?’
‘Exactly. And I don’t – I can’t. Not yet.’
Midnight sighs, a huge, shuddering breath. I weave a dozen red-ribbon plaits into his mane, by which time the horse has just about fallen asleep on my shoulder, leaning heavily against me.
‘My turn now?’ Kian asks.
‘To fall asleep on my shoulder or have your hair braided?’
‘Either. I’m not proud.’
I ruffle Midnight’s mane and blow softly on to his velvet nose, and the big black horse shakes his head and snorts and looks at me from liquid, long-lashed eyes. I plant a kiss on the white star on his forehead.
‘I’m crazy about your horse,’ I say lightly to Kian.
‘He’s crazy about you,’ Kian shrugs. ‘I’m a big disappointment to him these days – no ribbons, no apples.’
‘Shut up!’ I laugh, digging him in the ribs as we walk back up to the wishing tree. ‘I always wanted a horse, when I was a kid,’ I tell him. ‘A black one, like Midnight. I was going to convert the garage into a stable. I wished and wished for a pony, but I got a broken home instead. I gave up on wishing.’
‘Ah, but that was before you met me and Midnight,’ Kian grins. ‘We’re living proof that wishing didn’t give up on you.’
‘Yeah?’ I reply. ‘Everything and everyone else did, that’s for sure.’
‘Not me,’ Kian says, his blue-black eyes looking right inside my soul, making me shiver.
‘No, not you.’
We fling ourselves down on to the grass, stretching out in the sun.
‘So, what’s new?’ Kian asks.
‘Nothing much. The schools have broken up, and Holly has a friend coming over. I’m hiding out here, staying out of the way!’
‘Don’t blame you,’ he grins. ‘I guess things will get busier now – kids off school, day trippers, tourists. This place may be quiet, but it’s still in one or two of the tourist guidebooks.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously. We’d better make the most of it.’
Suddenly, away in the distance, there’s a squeal of laughter and a crunching of twigs. We jump to our feet. Through the trees, I glimpse two bright figures weaving along, laughing, carrying a picnic basket.
‘No way’ I breathe, furious. ‘It’s Holly – and some kid from the school. I told her to stay away!’
‘Too bad she didn’t listen,’ Kian says.
‘I’ll get rid of her!’ I promise.
I run into the woods, and Holly sees me and waves, crashing through the undergrowth. My anger flares when I see that