The Forest - Edward Rutherfurd [93]
Tom even felt a little sorry for the boy. But this was his day and all Prides must suffer.
He had rehearsed everything. People were starting to gather: his sister, tactfully wearing a bandage over her head, some of the other hamlet folk, a gaggle of children, all waiting to see the Prides’ return. Tom knew exactly what he was going to say.
‘That pony get out, then, John? I dunno how he did that.’ Hadn’t he been with young Pride just when it happened? Hadn’t his sister’s son pointed it out on the heath? ‘Out on the Forest, is he?’ That’s what he was going to say next. ‘You’d better go look for him, John. I reckon you’re good at finding ponies, John.’
But the best bit of all was going to come next. As soon as Pride appeared, young Harry was to run and fetch Mary. And now Mary would come up the track and call out: ‘Oh, Tom, guess what. I just found that pony of ours wandering on the heath.’
‘Better put it in the barn, Mary,’ he’d reply.
‘I have, Tom,’ she’d say.
And what was John Pride going to do when his sister said that? What was he going to do about that, then?
‘Oh, sorry about that, John,’ he’d cry. ‘I reckon he just wanted to come home.’
It was going to be the best moment of his entire life.
Minutes passed. People chatted quietly. The sun was a watery yellow, just over the trees. The dew was still thick on the ground.
‘Here they come,’ a child called. And Tom made an imperceptible nod to young Harry, who slipped away.
Mary had stood for a while in the little barn after she had gone in to feed the pony. At first she had been so surprised that she had just stared. Then she had frowned. Finally, after glancing up at the loft where she had spent so many happy hours that winter, she nodded.
That must be it. She couldn’t see any other explanation. She even whispered, ‘Are you there?’ But this was met only by silence. Then she sighed. ‘I suppose’, she murmured, ‘that’s your idea of a joke.’ She hardly knew whether to laugh or cry.
She walked outside after that, and went over to the fence and looked across the open ground to the trees. She half expected a signal, but there was none. Forgetting even the pony for a few moments, she stood gazing out, as if in a dream.
This was his way of letting her know he was there, watching over her. She felt a warm rush of happiness. Then she shook her head. ‘But what have you done now, Luke?’ she muttered.
Then young Harry appeared.
It had all gone to plan. Tom was almost chortling to himself with pleasure and excitement. The words had all been said, John Pride was looking at his son like thunder; the boy was close to tears. The whole hamlet was enjoying the joke as the Prides got out of their cart looking uncomfortable.
‘Better check none of your other animals is missing,’ he called out. ‘Maybe they all walked off! Eh?’ He had only just thought of that one. He was so pleased with it, and the laughs it produced, that he went even further. ‘Something about your place they don’t like, then, is it, John? Something they don’t like?’
Oh, they were laughing now. He glanced at the track. Mary should be arriving any moment. The final surprise. The triumph. She’d better hurry up, though. While everyone was there.
One of Pride’s younger children had run round to the cowshed, just to see for herself. She returned now, looking puzzled. She was tugging at Pride’s jerkin, saying something. He saw Pride frown and then walk round to the cowshed himself. Oh, this was rich! Now Pride was returning, looking straight at him. ‘I don’t know what you’re on about, Tom Furzey,’ he called out. ‘That pony’s in the cowshed.’
Silence. Tom stared. Pride shrugged, contemptuous now, after his shock. Still Tom stared. It was impossible.
He couldn’t help himself. He ran forward. He ran straight past Pride, through the yard to the cowshed. He looked in. The