Page 44 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle

‘We just came to watch,’ said Alice.

‘Well, don’t you go getting in the way. Stand over that side, and don’t be asking a lot of foolish questions.’

‘My questions are never foolish,’ Alice said, with dignity.

Axe had removed the shoe from the off-fore of one of the grey carriage horses and, with the hoof comfortably nestled on his leather lap, was paring and shaping the overgrown horn. He looked up as the girls approached, and blushed slightly under Alice’s ready smile. The mare nuzzled reflectively at his fair hair, wondering if it was good to eat.

‘Hello,’ Alice said. He nodded shyly in response. She glanced around. ‘No Dolly today?’

‘Back at the forge,’ he said. ‘She’s getting too big to walk far.’

‘You must miss her.’

‘Ah,’ he assented. He picked up the shoe and laid it on the hoof to assess, then put it aside and picked up the rasp. After a bit he said, ‘She’s getting near her time.’ He tried the shoe again, was satisfied, and started to nail it on. The mare lowered startlingly white eyelashes over her dark eyes and dozed. So much trust, Alice thought. He had that effect on animals.

‘How is the hare?’ Rachel asked.

‘Died,’ he said.

‘Oh dear! How sad!’ Rachel’s eyes filled with tears.

Axe glanced at her with alarm. ‘’Twas the shock, I expect. They can’t take much handling, hares.’

‘But I expect it knew you were helping it,’ Alice said, for her sister’s sake. Rachel turned away and blew her nose. Alice almost didn’t dare ask, but after a pause she said, ‘And your hedge-hoglets?’

‘Gone,’ he said. ‘Back in the woods. Once they started eating proper – beetles and such – I could let ’em go.’ He finished with the hoof, and turned his attention to the off-hind, drawing it up to rest in his lap, and pincering out the nails. This put him in the perfect position for the mare to lash him across the face with her tail.

‘Shall I hold it for you?’ Alice said, stepping closer.

He met her eyes properly for the first time, and now she blushed a little. ‘Kind of you, m’lady,’ he said. ‘You don’t want to get your hands dirty, though.’

‘I can always wash them,’ said Alice, sensibly. Holding the tail meant she was standing very close to him. She could smell his sweat, and the leather of his apron, and a tangy whiff of the forge fire, which reminded her of railway stations. Rachel had wandered off to talk to one of the stable cats, so she had Axe to herself. It felt very cosy – and also a little bit thrilling.

For a while she watched him working in silence, but she wanted conversation. She asked something she had been vaguely wondering for a long time. ‘Why are you called Axe?’

He seemed to consider, but she guessed he was just assembling his words. Probably, she thought, with a sense of discovery, he didn’t usually talk much to anyone – living alone, and working in the forge. He didn’t seem to mind her presence, or her questions. She sensed no reluctance from him.

‘My ma,’ he said at last, ‘she favoured Bible names for us childer. She called my eldest brother Seth. Then there was my sisters, Ruth and Esther, and my brother Job. When I come along, she was a bit poorly, not in a way to think about names. So she told my dad to pick something. Well, Dad, ’twasn’t a job he relished. Got in a bit of a state about it.’ He paused while he contemplated the fit of the shoe.

‘Go on,’ she encouraged him.

He glanced up at her briefly, then down. She could have sworn he was smiling. ‘He couldn’t read, couldn’t Dad, so it was only what he heard, like. And the ’pistle the Sunday previous’d been from Axe of the Apostles.’

‘Oh, my goodness!’ She laughed.

‘He thought “Axe” was a good name – sounded kind of strong.’

‘Like a mighty warrior?’ Alice said.

‘Like that,’ he acknowledged. ‘Time he found out the mistake, everyone’d got used to it. So I always bin “Axe”, ever since.’

‘I think it’s a fine name,’ Alice said. ‘It suits you.’

‘Don’t know about that,’ he mumbled shyly. When the hoof was finished, he let it to the ground and straightened up. ‘That’s her done,’ he said, patting the shiny rump. ‘Thank you for the tail.’ He stood looking down at her, as if prepared for more conversation.

She racked her brain for a subject, and remembered the jackdaw. ‘How’s Captain?’

‘Just the same.’