“Shall I tell you a story about a magic horse?”
Anna’s eyes widened again. She nodded, though she had begun to move her head from side to side, just a little. She rubbed her eyes.
“I think we should go into the conservatory. It’s more comfortable—have you been in there? You can see for miles and miles, right across the fields. You can watch the horses in the paddocks too. Let’s drink our tea and go along. It’s always been my favorite place to hear a story.”
With tea finished, Maisie did not attempt to take the girl’s hand, waiting patiently for her to gather her case. She followed Maisie into the conservatory, taking a seat at the opposite end of the sofa. Maisie sat facing Anna, her left arm along the top of the sofa, as if making herself comfortable rather than reaching out towards the child. Her free hand held the chain and ring, and though she rested her elbow on the arm of the sofa, she continued to allow the gold band to swing back and forth, and was herself reassured by the movement.
“Anna, can you see out of the window and across the fields to the sky?”
The girl drew her gaze away from the chain in the direction Maisie had indicated. She nodded.
“I want you to imagine you’ve just seen something wonderful—a horse with wings so wide, he can fly. He can fly anywhere he wants—high in the sky, or swooping down across the land. Anna . . . Anna, imagine him flying across those fields. He is big and strong, and he’s carrying a very special little girl on his back. Do you know who she is?”
The girl did not look back at Maisie. She shook her head, ever watchful for the horse of her imagination.
“Oh, I think you do. Imagine this—the horse with wings is flying just over there with a very, very special passenger on his back.” Maisie paused. “Her name is Anna.”
Anna’s eyes widened as she leaned forward and stared out across the fields. She smiled.
“The magic horse can take you anywhere you want, Anna. He can soar above the towns, streets, and railway lines, above the forests and meadows, and he can leap through the clouds. He has the most wonderful adventures, Anna. He will take the girl he loves anywhere.”
It was then that Maisie saw a teardrop, so clear and perfect it seemed crafted of crystal, as it trickled from the corner of the girl’s eye.
“Where is he taking you, Anna?”
The child swallowed, ran her tongue across her lips. She coughed, and Maisie wondered, then, if anyone had thought to take her to a doctor, to ascertain whether there was a medical reason why she had not uttered a word since being evacuated. Now she put her hand to her mouth and choked, but eased her cough, stopping herself by swallowing a couple of times as she took up staring out at the fields again, gazing with an intensity that suggested she could really see a white horse with wings.
“Where is he taking you, Anna?”
The child coughed again. She turned around and stared at Maisie, then at her case and gas mask. She picked up her belongings, looked at Maisie one more time, and then set off out of the room.
Maisie heard Anna run upstairs, first to the lavatory, and then to the small room where a bed had been made for her. Only when Maisie heard the bedroom door close did she fasten the chain and ring around her neck once more and move to go upstairs, where she tiptoed along to Anna’s room. She could hear no weeping, no sorrow being given voice, but instead she heard the child singing a song Maisie recognized—it was a child’s nursery rhyme. Her mother had sung it to her when she was a child.
Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,
To see a fine lady upon a white horse;
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
And she shall have music wherever she goes.
Maisie closed her eyes, recalling the sweet contentment she’d felt, cradled on her mother’s lap after she’d run in from school, her mother singing to her and holding her close. Perhaps that was why, in the moment, Maisie began to sing along, repeating the verse with the child.
It seemed that not a second had passed before the door was pulled back and Anna flung herself at Maisie and held on to her. Maisie bent down and lifted the child up, holding her close. She said nothing, just held her, feeling her head nestle into the curve of her neck, hot tears streaming wet against her own skin.
Chapter 7
Though Anna sat next to Maisie at breakfast the following morning, she still had not spoken.