Samphire Song Read Online Free PDF Page A

are next to his name, which means I’m responsible for all aspects of his care, so my first job is to prepare his tack ready for his nine-thirty ride.
    Of all the different areas at the stables, I think I love the tack room the most. Bridles and saddles line the walls, all shapes and sizes, each with a name plate and a photo of a furry face beside them. The low-beamed room smells of leather and linseed oil, saddle soap and horse sweat. It’s sweet and musty, warm and inviting. There are spare boots lined up against the wall and lunging reins in one corner. The stone floor always has sawdust on it and the window that overlooks the yard is always steamed up.
    Adventures begin here as soon as a bridle is lifted from its hook. The horses sense it even before theyhear the clink of metal bits and the scrape of eager boots in the yard. They begin to murmur and whinny and inquisitive heads appear over stable doors. I know Rambo will already be nibbling his, peeling off a layer of wood with his teeth. He does that when he’s excited. I move instinctively to his tack and as I run my hand over his smooth saddle, I feel a familiar thrill run down my spine, even though I’m not riding today.
    By the time a group of ten eager riders has arrived in the yard, Rambo is looking his beautiful best; groomed and saddled. I even polished his stirrups with my sleeve. The morning light is making them sparkle. He’s nuzzling at my pocket, ever hopeful. I help his rider, a girl of about eleven, mount up and then give him a slice of apple. He snorts his appreciation and is still chewing when Sue appears on Juniper, a chestnut gelding, to lead the line of horses out.
    ‘Walk on,’ she instructs and the riders shorten their reins and the sound of forty-four hooves on the move echoes round the yard. I watch Rambo until he’s outof sight. He has already tried to eat some low-hanging leaves on a tree. I think Natalie, his rider, might have her hands full for the next hour.
    Rachel is organising the younger helpers, giving them jobs. She’s in charge when Sue is out on a hack. She always asks you to do things with a smile and she lets us have the radio on, which is usually against the rules. It keeps everyone happy and makes the work more fun when you can sing along. Misty, one of the Shetlands, even joins in sometimes, but she’s tone deaf!
    When I look at the clock in the yard, it already reads 10 a.m.
    ‘Cake time,’ says Rachel, a while later, appearing in the open doorway of Rambo’s stall.
    ‘Yeah!’ I exclaim with a huge grin. I’m always starving by mid morning. I spread the last of the fresh straw on the ground quickly and brush my hands together.
    ‘You do a great job here, Jodie,’ Rachel tells me, as I pull the bolt across and secure Rambo’s door. ‘Suereally appreciates how hard you work. She thinks you have quite a gift with horses.’
    ‘Thanks,’ I reply, really chuffed. Now’s the moment. I take a deep breath. ‘Actually, there’s something I’d like to ask your advice about, both of you.’
    ‘Of course, anything,’ says Rachel.
    ‘I’m getting my own horse,’ I tell her, quietly, so no one else in the yard hears. My voice has gone quite squeaky because it’s so full of excitement.
    ‘Jodie, that’s FANTASTIC!’ she responds, giving me a huge hug. ‘I’m so happy for you.’
    ‘I’ve only just started looking and I wondered if you and Sue could let me know if you hear about any good ones for fifteen hundred pounds?’ I ask.
    ‘Of course,’ agrees Rachel. ‘Will you want to keep it here?’
    ‘Yes. I need to ask Sue about livery and whether I can do more hours to help with the costs.’
    ‘I’m sure that won’t be a problem,’ confirms Rachel. ‘I can speak to her first if you like, sound her out.’
    ‘Wow,’ I say. ‘That would be great, thanks. There’s just one thing . . .’
    ‘You’d like to keep it quiet from the gang,’ says Rachel, smiling. She reads me like a book. I nod,