made her way back to Star who had returned to her usual calm, patient self.
‘Now, this is going to sting a bit,’ she said, pouring some of the water into the plastic tub followed by a squirt of their precious thick bleach.
Swishing the two liquids together with her fingers, Fran picked up the piece of cloth and making sure she held it in her hand with the scratches on it, dunked it in the bleach solution.
‘Ouch,’ she gasped as the sterilising liquid stung her cuts.
‘I hope you understand this is for your own good,’ she continued, wringing out the cloth and gingerly wiping down Star’s leg.
At first Star showed no sign of distress, simply flaring her nostrils disapprovingly at the sharp acrid smell, but then as the wet cloth passed across her minor cuts and scrapes she began to buck her head and try to move away from Fran.
‘Shhh… I know… I know, Star,’ cooed Fran, trying her best to calm the agitated beast. ‘Shhh… almost done.’
Once she was satisfied she had cleaned Star’s leg as best as she could, Fran stood and moved the tub of bleach water to one side.
‘I’m sorry, Girl,’ she whispered, laying her cheek against Star’s thick muscular neck as the mare continued to stamp her stinging leg in irritation.
‘Hey, what’s up with Star?’ asked Tom, appearing by the gate with a bulging sack of harvested fruit hitched up onto his shoulders.
‘The old girl got herself some scrapes and cleaning her up stung a little, that’s all,’ Fran replied, softly patting Star’s muzzle, ‘but now we’re all friends against, aren’t we? Hey?’
‘Doesn’t look like she’s forgiven you just yet,’ said Tom, chuckling as he nodded to Star who was still clearly annoyed.
‘Chuck me an apple, will you,’ asked Fran, hoping it would go some way to ingratiate herself back into Star’s good books.
With a grunt, Tom lowered the heavy sack from his shoulders down onto the road side of the gate before climbing over it himself.
‘Here,’ he said tossing a large apple to her.
Catching it with one hand, Fran placed the apple by Star’s mouth and never one to forgo a meal when offered, she devoured it in two bites.
‘Can you give me another?’ said Fran, holding her empty palm up to Tom who had already brought the sack over. ‘And where’s Kai?’ she continued, suddenly realising the young man was nowhere to be seen.
‘There you go, old girl,’ said Tom, Patting Star’s nose as she held out a second apple from the sack.
‘Tom, where’s Kai?’ she repeated, guiltily wondering if the two men had actually come to blows after all.
‘What? Sorry,’ said Tom, giving Star one last friendly pat. ‘Oh, he’s just taking a shit, he’s…’
‘And you just let him wander off on his own?’ she interrupted, not sure just who she was angry at most; Tom for thinking it was okay to leave Kai on his own or Kai himself for being so reckless.
‘Man wanted some privacy…’ Tom began to reply, shrugging his shoulders.
‘Some privacy?’ she barked, throwing her arms up in exasperation. ‘Kai isn’t like us Tom, he’s barely been beyond the walls of his school in the last five years… all this is still new to him.’
‘Yeah but,’ Tom tried to say.
‘He’s likely to get his arse bitten off before his trousers reach his knees,’ she continued, cutting Tom off to stomp angrily past him back to the gate. ‘He may be a big bloke and could probably take care of himself in a fist fight with someone alive but… but you saw what happened earlier, bloody fool not only left his crowbar back in the cart but then climbed a tree rather than trying to outrun the Dead… rookie mistake Tom, and you know it.’
‘Come on, Fran, he’ll learn soon enough… let the man have a few minutes to himself!’ Tom called after her. ‘He’s not going to thank you for turning up midway through a crap.’
At Tom’s statement Fran’s steps faulted slightly. Perhaps she was being too harsh on the
Emma Wildes writing as Annabel Wolfe