Life With Lily

By Margaret Morgan

Dee is thrilled with her new grey, Welsh Mountain pony, Lily. Very quickly, she learns how clever the pony is. Soon, it Is obvious that Lily is taking an interest in everyone's well-being. With her 'eyelash kisses', Lily senses the needs of those around her and gives each person her undivided attention. Little wonder that she is soon l

• Language: English
• Publisher: Margaret Morgan
• Release date: Jul 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781913704179

Margaret Morgan

Margaret Morgan is a professional calligrapher and an Associate of the Calligraphy & Lettering Arts Society. She regularly accepts both public and private commissions and conducts calligraphy workshops.

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Life with Lily

Margaret Morgan

Copyright © 2020 by Margaret Morgan

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any form of retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior permission in writing from the publishers except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contents

Chapter One:

A Dream Come True

Chapter Two:

Lily Surprises Me

Chapter Three:

Poor Little Lily

Chapter Four:

Dad’s Melt Down.

Chapter Five:

I Take Charge

Chapter Six:

I Feel Peculiar

Chapter Seven:

My Recovery

Chapter Eight:

Plans Are Made

Chapter Nine:

Oh Dear. Problems!

Chapter Ten:

Craig Has an Accident

Chapter Eleven:

Plans Change

Chapter Twelve:

We Love You, Clara

Chapter Thirteen:

School and Hospital. Again!

Chapter Fourteen:

We Must Be Strong

Chapter Fifteen:

Poor Helen

Chapter Sixteen:

I Have To Be Mature

Chapter Seventeen:

Thank You, Doctor Lily

Chapter Eighteen:

Exams on the Horizon

Chapter Nineteen:

Love and Marriage

Chapter Twenty:

The Wanderer Returns. Yippee!

Chapter One

A Dream Come True

She's here! She's here! I yell as the lorry pulls in at the gate.

The grinning driver puts his head out of the window and shouts, Waiting for a pony? Oh yes, you are the girlie? Ah, 1 Garden Close. It's not on my paper map, you know; only on the Sat Nav. Is it a new house?

I nod and he smiles down at my happy face. He backs expertly into the drive and lowers the ramp slowly so that he doesn't scare his alert little passenger. Her moving head says she’s eager to get out, yet waits for help.

Mum is coming out of the house, so I quickly go to the pony's lovely grey head. I want to be the one to meet her first, you see. It is a bonding moment! Yay!

I hate to say it; my mother can be very bossy. You know, always in charge, of the whole world. The one thing I don’t want to do is annoy her.

Hello, my beautiful pony! I whisper.

Before she puts a hoof on the ramp, she sniffs my face carefully.

Yes. I am the girl who kissed you this morning, after the auction, I say.

She brushes my face with her tickly nose, just making sure. I hold her halter loosely, being careful not to pull. The lovely pony walks down the ramp so calmly that I think I might burst with happiness. How I've dreamt of this moment. I know Mum wants to organise her food as we bought a lovely mix of corn earlier today.

Granddad and Grandma had a riding stable, so Mum was brought up with horses. I have only mucked out at a riding school, where I learnt to ride a bit, free.

I’ve brought a couple of chopped carrots with me, so I am popular with my beautiful Lily straight away.

Lily! That will be your name, the name of my lovely Jamaican granny.

She walks happily around the house to the garden, the noise of hooves on the paving stones making her jump a bit. Once there, she eats some of the newly planted pansies! Oh no; we’ve only just planted them. I do a ‘welly boot’ job quickly and have to hide a few headless stalks in my pocket.

Quickly, we go down to the large shed at the bottom of the garden. It smells of Clara, our old pet donkey, because it's her stable at night and in cold weather. Lily sniffs the shed happily as she chews her carrots.

Let me tell you all I know about her.

She’s a very light grey Welsh Mountain pony, about 14 hands tall. Her eyes are large and clever, but sad. Mum says she's far too fat. This has caused sweet itch, a nasty complaint which ponies get by eating too much rich grass.

You can tell by the top of her tail - the hairs stick right up and are dry to touch. She has such a lovely way of looking at you through long, white eyelashes. When she closes them near your face, it feels like a kiss. Already, I love her to bits.

To settle her down, I thought she'd like her dirty coat brushed. The auction was so smelly and noisy. I went with Mum to buy her, so I know how frightening it was. Let me describe it, as most of you won’t know what I’m talking about.

There was a huge selling ring where the horses and ponies were led in one by one. People who wanted to buy sat around the ring. The animals were sold by the nicest auctioneer. First, he talked about the horse in the ring. Next, he asked for offers of money. People seemed to signal him if they wanted to buy the horse. Some put their hand up and others nodded their heads. The auctioneer said that Lily was ‘the perfect pony for a keen new rider.’ That's me. Mum waved her hand and I jumped up and down. I do that when I'm excited! The auctioneer grinned and said, Sold to the lovely wee lassie.

‘Wee’ means small in Scotland. I know that I jumped for joy and everyone looked at me and smiled. I must stop jumping now that I wear a bra, although jumping without one is more painful and ugly.

When we were going out of the auction, we heard a man say, The sweet wee ‘Picaninny’ girl there has a good Welsh pony.

Mum turned and glared at him, as ‘Picaninny’ is a very rude word to describe someone who is black. I am a bit lighter than Mum, who is black, coming from Africa via Jamaica. Mum’s grandparents came over from Jamaica in the 1950s, where the family had always worked on sugar plantations, even after slaves were freed. They had a very good employer, who made sure they had everything his family had: education, fair money and good housing. They came to Britain in their 40s, to work on the railways, which they did until retirement, when they bought rundown stables. Granddad had always looked after the plantation owner’s horses in Jamaica, so knew all about their health. Grandma had exercised the racehorses too, as she was light and small then. Secretly, she’d sometimes pretended to be a man so she could ride in races. Back to the present.

After the auction, I went out to see my very own pony, while Mum paid at the office. How dejected Lily looked, tied up on the railings with all the other waiting horses. All I could do was kiss her nose and whisper, You’re my pony now. I'll look after you, forever. I promise.

She seemed pleased with this and blew spit into my hair. After finding Lily's horsebox driver in the café and having a coffee and cake with him, we rushed home to get ready for her.

We already have Clara’s brushes and foot tools. There is a nice corn mix and Clara’s treats up in the roof niche; marshmallows and chocolate digestives. Yes, we know it’s wrong, but she gets upset if we don’t give her ‘specials’. I started her off on these treats a long time ago, so it’s my fault.

Now, let me get back to Lily. Remember, she’s outside the shed, eating carrots and I’m going to groom her!

She stands stock-still and sniffs the brush, so I begin grooming her without worrying, chatting about the auction and how happy I am. Silly me. Unfortunately, as soon as I start brushing her neck, under the mane, she stiffens, whinnies and rears up!

Violently! She knocks the brush out of my hand with her front legs and I fall smack into the door. In a panic, she dashes to the back of the shed where it’s darker. There she bucks and kicks the water bucket over. My heart sinks as I sit in a heap, gasping with the sudden shock.

What on earth is wrong with my lovely Lily?

Lily, Lily. What is it? I say, rubbing my head.

Until then, I’d thought she was so sweet. Suddenly, Mum is with me, looking at Lily's hostile, panting body.

She's forgotten the feeling of the brush, says Mum sadly, Poor little thing. You probably gave her too much love too soon. Let's feed and water her. Get Clara in for company too. Did she hurt you, Dee?

I want to cry as I shake my head but don’t. My perfect day is in ruins. I think you’ll have to build up to grooming, Dee. Lily’s had a bad experience along the way. It happens. Remember, we don’t know if we’ve been told the truth about her. Look how dirty she is.

I swallow hard and go out for Clara. She is eager to meet Lily, so is trying to open the orchard gate with her teeth! All three of them! Did you ever see a fat old donkey trying to gallop? Her poor legs are so stiff. At the same time, she is hawing and farting loudly! I stop to get their new water on the way back. Clara is already a great success with Lily because she's so loving and motherly. After stroking both of them, I leave them to settle down for some food and sleep.

It looks as if they are whispering to each other. Clara is probably telling Lily that I play horrible music and wear really silly Wellington boots.

I’ll never forget Clara biting my Wellingtons when I sprayed them silver at Christmas last year. Lily listens, but is asleep standing up. They have to sleep together as years ago, the building used to be a big garden shed. I think it had been a potting shed, as there were lots of potatoes, vegetables and fruit. Some were still growing in the light from cracks in the wood.

When we moved in, Dad insisted that it was cleaned by a couple of men who do that sort of cleaning for a living. They wore CSI-type clothes and really gave the shed ‘a birthday’. We had to leave the door open for ages before the smell of disturbed rotting stuff went. It seems that old gardening stuff can be quite dangerous, just as much as modern chemicals, as years ago they used poisons quite happily. A huge tin of arsenic, for example, was found in the roof beams.

Clara slept in there again after a week, so we presumed all smelled good. Dad has kept the old gardening tools to display somewhere in the house. He’s like that with old tools. Naturally, Mum had the final word on old tools and that is no! All but one tool went to a gardening museum.

Earlier today, I mucked out well and put fresh straw down. They have hay and water too. In fact, I want to curl up with them. Instead, I blow kisses as I close the door. I can’t remember when I felt so happy. Even the new house feels like home.

There are three new houses, like ours, all built on a huge old garden. Luckily, we managed to buy the house built in the old vegetable garden, so we have the shed. Knowing I’ve always wanted a pony, Mum and Dad bought the old orchards as well. We are going to convert the shed into two separate stables, Dad thinks, for a pony and Clara.

He has built the new stable in his head, as he does that sort of stuff on oil rigs in the North Sea. Plans and installs them, I mean. That's why we moved to Scotland, to be nearer his job.

We live about forty miles from Aberdeen airport now, quite near a large hospital and little villages. Even though the people here speak English, I find it difficult to understand their speech. I hate looking dopey, but I keep smiling and nodding. Mum’s advice, of course.

I can't wait to start work on the shed. My new friend, Gell, short for Angelica, is going to help us too. She’s keen to hear all my news, so I ring her later from the shed.

It’s nearly dark, and I've just gone down to check on Lily. Both animals are curled up around each other and are snoring loudly. Great. I send Gell some dark photos, as Mum doesn't know I've come out and am using my phone. It's supposed to be for ringing home and now Gell, as they pay the bill. Blah de Blah. I must be the only girl in Scotland who can’t use her phone all the time! They have promised me a Smartphone though, for my birthday.

Gell's Scottish accent is very difficult to understand. Anyway, we giggle our way through, as usual. Tomorrow, I'm going to walk Lily to Gell's house. It's quite close, across the fields, but longer by road. I’ll try stroking Lily clean then. Mum says I can ring her last owner and ask about her grooming problems. That’s if the auction house will give us the number. I have asked them, but they say they don’t know it.

(‘As if’, Mum said to Dad when I was eavesdropping later).

I creep back indoors and wash my hair. It’s filthy with straw and Lily ‘love spit’. I want to dye it black; dark brown is so dull. Usually, I wear it in a high ponytail. Tonight, I pin it up and put on my new black riding hat.

Great, Dee, says Mum, not even really looking. Dad’s back tomorrow.

I didn’t notice Mum’s lack of interest then. But she was so sort of flat. Before I go to bed, I think I'll find my riding and working clothes. Dad always wants me to be ready for work. To ride in, I've only got my baggy jeans and an anorak. I thought jodhpurs were too expensive and stupidly ugly. Anyway, I might grow out of them quickly and I can’t ride very well.

Since we've come to Scotland, I've grown so much that nothing fits me anymore. I want to diet, but Mum won't hear of it.

You are still a growing girl, she says. Dieting now leads to that terrible disease and not being able to conceive when you want a baby. Try cutting out sweets and chocolates.

After trying on my too-tight riding jeans, I go to bed tired out. For the first time in weeks, I feel happy. I have my lovely pony and a great new friend.

Lily will need a lot of TLC, but that’s why I’m here. As I lie there dozing, I think I hear snuffling noises coming from Mum’s bedroom, so get up and peep in. She’s in bed, half-dressed and crying!

Bit of a drama queen, I think.

But I creep in to comfort her. And guess what?

I might have to sell Lily!

Mum. What do you mean, sell Lily? Why? I babble.

Mum’s face is all red and wet with tears. She puts her arms around me and sits us on the bed.

It’s your Dad. He’s being made redundant. That means he loses his job. When he comes home, he’s never going back. Mum starts wailing again. We’ve got so much to pay for too. Moving to Scotland wasn’t cheap. Why did he let us move? He must have known something was going on.

She sits down again and begins to look through bills. So, I go down and put the kettle on. You can imagine how upset I am. I can’t bear to think of Lily being sold. Those lovely eyes would be so sad. Lily is mine. All mine. Dad will get another job. He has to. Why does this happen to me?

After taking Mum tea and jam tart, I creep downstairs and out to see Lily.

She and Clara are up, eating hay. Lily looks pleased to see me and even walks towards me. I go straight in and kiss her. I think she knows something’s wrong and nuzzles my neck. Clara, of course, pushes in, so I have to hug her too. She bites me