The Moon of Gomrath Read Online Free Page B

among the trees.
    â€œOh, well – I wonder what the time is.” Susan climbed up the slope out of the quarry and into the field. She walked round to the wood on the far side, and whistled, but nothing happened. “Here, boy! Here, boy! Oh don’t then; I’m – oh!”
    The pony was standing right behind her.
    â€œYou made me jump! Where’ve you been?”
    Susan fondled the pony’s ears. It seemed to like that, for it thrust its head into her shoulder, and closed its velvet-black eyes.
    â€œSteady! You’ll knock me over.”
    For several minutes she stroked its neck, then reluctantly she pushed it away. “I must go now. I’ll come and see you tomorrow.” The pony trotted after her. “No, go back. You can’t come.” But the pony followed Susan all the way across the field, butting her gently with its head and nibbling at her ears. And when she came to climb through the fence into the next field, it put itself between her and the fence, and pushed sideways with its sleek belly.
    â€œWhat do you want?”
    Push.
    â€œI’ve nothing for you.”
    Push.
    â€œWhat
is
it?”
    Push.
    â€œDo you want me to ride? That’s it, isn’t it? Stand still, then. There. Good boy. You
have
got a long back, haven’t you? There. Now – whoa! Steady!”
    The moment Susan was astride, the pony wheeled round and set off at full gallop towards the quarry. Susan grabbed the mane with both hands.
    â€œHey! Stop!”
    They were heading straight for the barbed wire at the top of the cliff above the deepest part of the quarry.
    â€œNo! Stop!”
    The pony turned its head and looked at Susan. Its foaming lips curled back in a grin, and the velvet was gone from the eye: in the heart of the black pupil was a red flame.
    â€œNo!”
Susan screamed.
    Faster and faster they went. The edge of the cliff cut a hard line against the sky. Susan tried to throw herself from the pony’s back, but her fingers seemed to be entangled in the mane, and her legs clung to the ribs.
    â€œNo! No! No! No!”
    The pony soared over the fence, and plunged past smooth sandstone down to the water. The splash echoed between the walls, waves slapped the rock, there were some bubbles: the quarry was silent under the heavy sky.
    â€œI’m not waiting any longer,” said Bess. “Susan mun get her own tea when she comes in.”
    â€œAy, let’s be doing,” said Gowther. “Theer’s one or two things to be seen to before it rains, and it conner be far off now: summat’s got to bust soon.”
    â€œI’ll be glad when it does,” said Bess. “I conner get my breath today. Did Susan say she’d be late?”
    â€œNo,” said Colin, “but you know what she is. And she hadn’t a watch with her.”
    They sat down at the table, and ate without talking. The only sounds were the breathing of Bess and Gowther, the ticking of the clock, the idiot buzz of two winter-drugged flies that circled endlessly under the beams. The sky bore down on the farm-house, squeezing the people in it like apples in a press.
    â€œWe’re for it, reet enough,” said Gowther. “And Susan had best hurry if she dunner want a soaking. She ought to be here by now. Wheer was she for, Colin? Eh up! What’s getten into him?” Scamp, the Mossocks’ lurcher, had begun to bark wildly somewhere close. Gowther put his head out of the window. “That’ll do! Hey!
    â€œNow then, what was I saying? Oh ay; Susan. Do you know wheer she’s gone?”
    â€œShe said she was going to the quarry for some peace and quiet – I’ve been getting on her nerves, she said.”
    â€œWhat? Hayman’s quarry? You should have said earlier, Colin. It’s dangerous – oh, drat the dog! Hey! Scamp! That’s enough! Do you hear?”
    â€œOh!” said Bess. “Whatever’s to do with you?