Sea Horses

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Authors: Louise Cooper

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BOOK: Sea Horses
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Born in Hertfordshire, England, on 29 May 1952, Louise Cooper describes herself as ‘a typical scatter-brained Gemini’. She spent most of her school years writing stories when she should have been concentrating on lessons, and her first fantasy novel,
The Book of Paradox
, was published in 1973, when she was just twenty years old. Since then she has published more than sixty books for adults and children.

Louise now lives in Cornwall with her husband, Cas Sandall, and their deaf white cat. When she isn't writing, she enjoys singing (and playing various instruments), cooking, gardening, ‘messing about on the beach’ and – just to make sure she keeps busy – is also treasurer of her local Royal National Lifeboat Institution branch.

Visit Louise at her own web site at
www.louisecooper.com
.

In the same series

1. Sea Horses

2. Sea Horses: The Talisman

3. Sea Horses: Gathering Storm

4. Sea Horses: The Last Secret

Louise Cooper

PUFFIN BOOKS

PUFFIN BOOKS

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

Penguin Putnam Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

www.penguin.com

First Published 2003

9

Copyright © Louise Cooper, 2003

All rights reserved

The moral right of the author has been asserted

Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN: 978-0-14-193152-4

This book is dedicated to all the staff and pupils of St Agnes School in Cornwall, who eagerly encouraged me to write it – and will doubtless find the setting familiar!

D
ad said, ‘Nearly there,’ and Tamzin Weston's heart sank into her shoes. She looked out of the car window at the little Cornish village they were driving through, and thought how bleak everything looked – as bleak as she felt.

She desperately wanted to say, ‘Please, Dad, please, I don't want to be here!’ but she bit the words back. She knew that Dad and Mum had to go abroad because of work. She also knew why she couldn't go with them. They would be travelling all over Canada, living mostly in hotels, which would make things like school impossible. Tamzin was trying to understand, but it would be a whole year before her parents came home again. And meanwhile she must stay with her nan – Dad's mother – in an isolated house in a place that she had never seen before. It made her feel very dismal and more than a little scared.

It wouldn't have been so bad if she really knew Nan. But they hadn't met since Tamzin was about five, and Tamzin could hardly remember her. They sent each other Christmas and birthday cards and presents, but Nan hadn't been to visit them for years. She was an artist, and Dad joked that she was a bit eccentric. She looked nice in photographs but what sort of person was she really? Tamzin couldn't help wondering if maybe Nan didn't like children. It would explain why she had hardly ever come to visit, and the thought worried Tamzin. If it was true, how on earth were they going to get on?

Well, she would soon find out. They had left the village behind, and now they were driving along a narrow lane with rough, plant-covered stone walls – Dad said they were called Cornish hedges – on either side. Then the lane turned, and ahead of them was a deep valley that led towards the sea, with cliffs rising on either side. Down a steep hill, then Dad turned the car on to a rough track that led off the road, and a minute later Tamzin saw Chapel Cottage for the first time.

The house stood on its own in a small garden surrounded by scrub and gorse. It was built of grey stone, and in the dull October afternoon it looked chilly and unwelcoming. They bumped down the last stretch of track and stopped next to a little yellow car that was parked outside the house. As Dad switched the engine off, the house's front door opened and Nan appeared.

She was tall, with black hair piled up on her head, and she was wearing baggy old trousers and a loose top that was splashed with paint stains. Her skin was very tanned, and she was smiling. They got out of the car and Nan kissed Dad. ‘Peter!’ she said, then turned to Tamzin. ‘Hello, Tamzin, dear. It's a long time since we last met, isn't it?’

Tamzin nodded. ‘Yes… Nan.’

‘You must be tired after the journey,’ Nan continued, ‘so come and have some tea before we see about your luggage.’

She led Dad into the house, still talking, and Tamzin trailed after them. They entered the kitchen, which was enormous and very old-fashioned, with a low ceiling that made it dark and gloomy. A fluffy black cat was curled on a chair. Tamzin held out a hand but the cat jumped down and walked away, which didn't make her feel any better.

She sat at the big wooden table while Nan poured tea. Dad was talking about Canada, and Tamzin tried not to listen. She was on the verge of tears already and the conversation only made her feel worse. So to distract herself, she looked around the kitchen – and had a pleasant surprise.

There was a painting of a horse on the wall, several china horses on the shelves, and a row of polished horse brasses hanging from one of the beams. Tamzin's spirits lifted a little. Her biggest dream was to learn to ride and, maybe, have a pony of her own one day.

Nan saw her looking. ‘Do you like horses?’ she asked.

‘I love them!’ said Tamzin.

‘She certainly does,’ Dad agreed. ‘She's always wanted to have riding lessons but there aren't any riding schools near us.’

‘Oh, it's very different here,’ said Nan. ‘In fact there's a riding stable just up the valley.’ She smiled at Tamzin. ‘I'll show you in a day or two, when you've settled in.’

‘There,’ said Dad, teasing. ‘Before you know where you are, you won't be missing Mum and me at all!’

That wasn't true, of course. Tamzin was going to miss them dreadfully, and her friends, and everything she knew. But maybe life at Chapel Cottage wouldn't be so bad. For Dad's sake, anyway, she was determined to put on a brave face.

‘Don't worry, Dad,’ she said, and managed to smile back at him. ‘I'm going to be fine. Really I am.’

Tamzin's new bedroom overlooked the valley. It was a nice room with a comfortable bed, wardrobe, dressing table and even a washbasin of her own. She couldn't glimpse the sea from the window but Nan said that the beach was only a short walk away, down the valley path.

There was another horse picture in her room. It was in a similar style to the one in the kitchen, and when she looked at it closely Tamzin saw Nan's name signed in the corner. These paintings were hers, then. They were very good, Tamzin thought. And all very blue: blue skies, blue light – this one was a moonlit picture of a horse with a flying mane and tail, galloping out of a blue sea. The horse was white, but its coat had a blue tinge… Nan must have a thing about blue, Tamzin told herself, and smiled.

Nan came in behind her, carrying one of her cases. ‘What do you think of my pictures?’ she asked.

Tamzin turned round. ‘They're lovely! Especially this one – I think I like it the best.’ She looked at the picture again. ‘Do you always paint horses?’

‘Nearly always,’ said Nan. ‘Though I sometimes do other things to sell. I used to ride, you know, but I wasn't very good at it. So now I just do horse pictures and collect a few horsy things.’

Tamzin smiled shyly at her. ‘Thank you for putting this one in my room. It'll be the first thing I see when I wake up every morning.’

Nan's expression changed. ‘The first thing you see…’ she mused. ‘Mmm… that's probably just as well.’

Whatever did she mean? Tamzin wondered. Nan's face was thoughtful, and there was a peculiar little downward curve to her mouth, as if she was worried about something. But before Tamzin could ask any questions, she seemed to shake her thoughts off and was suddenly brisk and cheerful.

‘Dinner's nearly ready, so hurry and unpack, then come down. I'll see you in a few minutes, all right?’

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