‘Social services can help her to leave.’
‘They’ve tried,’ Penny says, her voice flat. ‘She won’t do anything.’
‘She’s probably frightened to,’ I tell her.
‘I’d be more frightened to stay,’ she counters and then falls quiet.
We walk up the hill to the field where our massive Shire horses are kept. I see that the fence is broken. Again. Another job and more expense. Sadly, fence breakage is a regular occurrence. Our two ex-police Shire horses, Sweeney and Carter, like to lean on the fence. The fence is not so keen – with a couple of thousand pounds of muscle against it, the fence is never going to win.
Someone has put them in with the Shetland ponies, which means that they won’t break the fence here as they could just step over it. Sweeney and Carter are huddled together in one corner. Carter suffers from seasonal affective disorder and despises cold weather and grey days. It’s a job to try to get him to come out of his stall at all from October to March. Sweeney is as jumpy as they come, having been involved in policing more riots than he should have. The slightest noise makes him bolt across his field. But they are good companions for each other and now that Lucas is here permanently, we take them out together for an exercise ride across the land. Which means I’ve regained my love of riding and Lucas, who seems to be a natural at everything he turns his hand to, has proved to be a skilled rider.
The miniature Shetland ponies we have are always a big hit with the students. We’ve got three now. Ringo and Buzz Lightyear have been joined by Beyoncé who, though she’s relatively new, keeps both of her boys in check. They, of course, both dote on her and jostle for her attention. She only has to flick her long blonde mane or waggle her comely rump and they come running.
‘Have you fed Beyoncé yet?’ I ask Penny.
‘No.’
I’ve got a pocket full of carrots for the horses. Pulling them out, I hand half to Penny.
When I shout their names, they amble over to be fed. We give them all a rub on the snout, especially Ringo who suffers from sweet itch. He’s allergic to his own hair and, as there’s nothing sweet about it, is always grateful for a good scratch. The itchy little pony now has his own celebrity hairdresser, Christian Lee – a good friend of Shelby’s and generous supporter of the farm. Christian lives near here and comes once a month to layer Ringo’s fringe into a gorgeous, swishy bob to keep it away from his skin. His mane and tail are styled and kept short too. I’m sure that Beyoncé seems more than a little jealous of his locks.
Occasionally, Christian – who despairs of me – cuts my own unkempt hair into a neat, brown bob and I keep having to check in the mirror that I am really me. When Christian’s not looking, more often than not, I take the kitchen scissors to it.
Beyoncé pushes the boys out of the way and hogs the fence, nuzzling Penny’s hand.
‘She likes you,’ I say to Penny and get a nervous smile in return.
Horses and ponies fussed and fed, we head back down to the barn walking at a leisurely pace. I want to give Penny time to talk if she needs to, but she seems happy just to be quiet. Her situation is a difficult one and only her mother can resolve it.
‘Shall we go and warm up in the tea room? The others will probably be there now.’
‘Yeah.’
Little Dog pumps his stubby little legs and runs ahead of us, stretching out his body. At some point, while I wasn’t watching, he rolled in something unspeakable, so his brown and white coat is tipped with caked-on mud. At least, I hope it’s mud.
Today, Big Dog has joined us, but more often and probably quite sensibly during the winter he decides to stay at home sleeping next to one of the radiators in my caravan. He’s another enormous dog, this time shaggy. Lucas says he’s an Alsatian/Dire Wolf cross. He also tells me that this is a Game of Thrones reference but, as I don’t have a television, I can neither confirm nor deny this.
What I can tell you is that Big Dog has a number of issues. People in red jumpers can throw him into a frenzy of barking. He only has three legs and it never used to stop him doing anything, but as he’s got older he’s begun taking his time and is sparing with his choice of activities. And who can blame him? That exemplifies the ethos of this place. Each animal or person goes at the pace they’re comfortable. No one is rushed or pushed. Taking things slowly generally brings out the best in everyone, I find. I used to be a teacher in a mainstream school and pretty much hated everything about how the system was set up. With large, unruly classes, constant examinations and a one-size-fits-all approach, it seemed to bring out the worst in everyone – pupils and teachers. And I was no exception. I had to get out before I blew a fuse. So that’s how I found myself running a small charity supporting educational needs for the disenfranchised and sidelined. Because I was once someone who needed help, I can see it in others too.
Chapter Six
On our way to the tea room we pass the barn and I can see that mucking-out is in full progress. Wheelbarrows are being loaded with used hay ready to be replaced with a fresh new batch. Lucas is getting stuck in with everyone and there’s a cheery atmosphere in the air – never a given. Each day presents us with a different challenge and it’s a blessing when all of our students are in a good place and their time here is without major incident. It looks as if we’ve got Lucas’s hardcore fan club in today. He’s a big hit with the students here. They see him as anti-authority – which quite often he is – and hang on his every word. Only Lucas can get the other students mucking out without protest.
Penny and I stop to watch as they finish up. Two of our long-term girls are here today – Lottie and Erin – and it’s fair to say that they don’t like getting their hands dirty. Apparently, as they tell me on a regular basis, glittery manicures and manure are not the best of mixes. However, they also rather like being with Lucas, so they’re getting on with it today, glittery nails or not.
They both look like angels, but have mouths born of the gutter. Both girls have chaotic home lives and as soon as they seem to be settling, their parents seem to do something to send them into a downward spiral again. Here the two teenagers cling together and seem to bring out the best in each other. When they do have a meltdown, they like to do it as a joint affair to really challenge our resources.
Jack’s here too – one of my own favourite students. Not that I should have favourites, but he’s easy company and if you give him a task he’ll see it through with meticulous attention to detail. Jack is on the autistic spectrum and has also been with us for a long time now. He couldn’t cope with the bustle of mainstream education, but he’s done very well here as he loves the quiet, structured routine of the farm. His favourite job is making tea, which he does with military precision, and I’ve started to encourage him to help Bev in the kitchen in a more formal way. If I had some extra funding, then I think we could soon give Jack a paid job here and it would be a delight to see him gain some more independence. Perhaps it’s something I could talk to Shelby about.
As well as Penny, we have some more relatively new students too and the idea is that, as part of their learning, the kids who have been here longer look after the newer ones. That’s how it works in theory. Some fit in straightaway, for some it takes much longer, but one thing I’ve learned over the years is that you can’t force it.