Samphire Song Read Online Free PDF

relieved.
    ‘Just for now, until I get it all together in my head,’ I tell her.
    ‘That’s fine. So let’s get those cakes shared out. There are enough for everyone. But the others won’t know it’s a secret celebration,’ says Rachel, conspiratorially, an arm around my shoulder.

Chapter Nine
    It’s the first of August and a very special day. That’s not just because the weather forecast said it would be the hottest day of the year, or because Ed has gone to his mate Alex’s for a sleepover party (his illness usually means he wants to stay at home). Today, Mum and I are going to the New Forest pony sale. More than five hundred horses, ponies and donkeys are being auctioned. We picked up the advance brochure last week because Sue tipped me off about a lovely pony she’d heard about through the grapevine.
    I’ve waited months to find the right horse. Once the summer term started, I agreed with Mum that it would be sensible to buy at the start of the hols, so that my new horse and I could get to know each other really well.
    The pony we’ve come to see is called Lady. She’s an eight-year-old chestnut with a good track record in local shows. At fourteen hands, she’s going to cope with my ever-lengthening frame. She has a gentle temperament. Her dam was a prize-winning mare called Tiger Lily. In less than five minutes, I will be looking at her in her sale enclosure, and in twelve hours, she might be starting a new life at the stables, with Rambo as her new best mate.
    My breathing is short and almost panicky, but from excitement, not fear. I never want Mum to see the attacks that come out of nowhere, narrowing my surroundings into tunnel vision, and causing sweat to pour from my body and nausea to rise from my stomach towards my throat like lava. So far, that doesn’t seem to be happening.
    Mum is parking and we’re getting out into the warm, early morning. The air is full of whinnying – the animals are scared of this clearing in the Forest, with its holding stalls, narrow walkways and the woodenauction ring. Some must have travelled quite a distance to be here – journeys that began in the dark. They will have been tethered for several hours in a moving vehicle, with standing room only. Poor creatures.
    We’re making our way to the registration vehicle to pick up an auction brochure. This will tell us where Lady is on the order of sale, and once we have her number we can find her in the enclosures. Mum gives our details and pays the fee. We’re given a number – four-two-five – on a white card that we can hold up if we’re lucky enough to offer the winning bid.
    Lady is twentieth on the list and we’re pointed in the right direction to go and see her. My palms have gone quite cold, which is spooky. Weird things, which feel like frogs, are leaping about in my abdomen. I want to love her on sight. But what if we lose her in the bidding? Mum gives me a squeeze. She feels as much on edge as I do.
    Suddenly, there’s frenzied neighing and whinnying coming from the unloading area – a real commotionwith voices raised and the stamping of equine feet on a ramp. The tone coming from this horse is angry, not fearful. I’m intrigued and turn my head to see what’s going on.
    I’m looking at a grey stallion, ragged and untrimmed, with the most beautiful, arched Arab neck I have ever seen. Two men are trying to lead him with ropes out of the trailer. They’re yanking and pulling at the tethers but he is standing firm and proud. He does not want to come out into the crowd that has formed.
    I push my way to the front of it, leaving Mum a bit behind. The men are trying to clear a space, waving their arms and tugging at the horse in turn. No wonder he’s apprehensive. I feel myself moving forwards.
    ‘Stand back!’ they warn. Instead, I offer out a hand, indicating that I will take a rope. The men exchange glances, almost smirking. They try to wave me away. The younger man grabs the horse by his forelock