Devils And Unicorns

Chapter 4

"Nice, very nice," Martha said, nodding her head approvingly from where she was leaning on the fence.

"She is, isn't she?" Florence replied.

"Shame she's being a total witch."

In the ménage, Jersey Devil was galloping from one end fence to the other, twisting and turning on her dainty hooves like a possessed ballerina, kicking her fetlocks into the air and snorting like a steam train.

"She wasn't like this last week." Florence hung her head in her hands and hissed through clenched teeth. "What is going on?"

"Something's upset her. She was like a little lamb when she first came," Martha said. "Maybe she was drugged for the sale?"

"Don't be silly. Go in there and get her."

"What? Hand me a knife and ask me to slit my wrists on the way in, why don't you? Do you want to see me get my fucking head kicked in?"

"She's fine, she won't do anything. She's just agitated."

"So you go in and get her."

"Martha, please. Zac'll be here in a minute, we need to get this filly ridden out today."

"So let Zac catch her," Martha said, walking away from the fence towards the tack room. "It'll be a great introduction for him." She laughed maliciously as she disappeared from sight into the building.

Florence sighed. Jersey Devil had been settling in so well, up until today. She had been a dream purchase in every way: she was gentle in the stable, had no vices, and was quiet and calm in-hand. But today, she was tearing around the ménage as though she was being pursued by a mob of angry ghosts. Florence had no idea what could have spooked her. Wild animals scavenged on the wastes, but up here in the coastal hills there could be nothing more threatening than a stray cat. Beyond the amber blur the filly was creating, the sea glistened under a cloudless sky like a mirror. The birds chirruped peacefully in the trees. If only Jersey Devil was in a more accommodating mood, the day would have been perfect.

Martha came back out of the tack room with a bridle over her right shoulder and a saddle across her left arm, which she flung over the top railing of the fence.

"How much did you pay for her, again?" she asked as she climbed awkwardly over the barrier into the ménage.

"Just under four thousand," Florence lied.

"She has lovely paces. Shame she's nutty as a walnut whip."

Martha approached the filly carefully but without any fear. She had always had an affinity with those who walked in equine form; it had been part of the reason that Florence's father had kept her on at the yard. Realising that she was no longer alone in the school, Jersey Devil skidded to a stop on the sand and whinnied softly, peering through her untidy forelock at the approaching human.

"Steady, girl," Martha whispered, gently reaching out and touching the filly's neck with her free hand. Jersey Devil stood quietly.

"You okay?" Florence called from the sidelines.

"She's alright, see?" Martha called back.

This was the moment when the horse usually leaps into the air in a flurry of hooves and teeth and morphs into a demonic buckaroo... but nothing happened. Martha slid the bit between Jersey Devil's teeth and buckled the straps of the bridle over her head, talking to her all the time in a hushed whisper, and then led her quietly to the gate.

"Zac's gonna have fun with her if she behaves like that under saddle." She raised her eyebrows dubiously as she handed Florence the reins.

"Speak of the devil," Florence said, seeing the man himself walking up the lane with his bag over his shoulder. "Hi Zac, lovely day!"