“Certainly.Priddy hasn’t seen the sun in weeks, so let’s havesunshine.Priddy’s depressed and lonely, so let’s get him out ofthe lighthouse and onto the big high moors to breathe the air.”Heslapped the wheel, grabbed it once more to negotiate a tight bend.“The air!God, I love lung stuff.Two-legged stuff, as well—left,right, gas, clutch, sex.And dancing!We’ll have to do some ofthat.Still, it’s a pity about the horse.”
Oncemore, Priddy had no idea which tail of this madness to grab inorder to hang on.“The horse?”he echoed—and then, stung, mortifiedto be so transparent, “I’m not depressed.Or lonely.Even if I was,it’s my own problem—nothing to do with you.”
“I just mean it’s a shame you don’t have one.They’refun.”
“Merou,what?”
“A horse.Still, if you like this route, and the sunshine’sbright enough for you, let’s stop here.”
Hepulled up neatly, right in the middle of the road.Priddy was aboutto object, but realised it wasn’t a road anymore—barely even anindentation on the springy turf.They emerged into the suddensilence.Without the thrum and rattle of the car, there was onlythe gorse, the boulder-scattered moor, and the shimmering light.Tothe north lay the Atlantic, sparkling under a blanket of mist.Priddy had never seen his native sea from this angle before.“Whereare we?”
“Don’t you know?”
“In theory.Lanyon Quoit has to be over there, and Penzancethat way to the south, but...”
“A long time ago, this place used to be calledPrés des Chevaux de Mer.”
Priddy smiled.Merou was looking at him sidelong, as ifmeasuring the length of his disbelief.“This is anotherpomme-de-terrething,isn’t it?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Well, I can getprés—fields, or meadows, more likeit.And horses.But then we’re back to the sea.Sea-horse meadows.Is that it?”
“More than.An excellent rendition.I do like the economy ofEnglish, and how it expands in translation, like a suitcase that’sbeen sat on for too long.Your French is quite good.”
“It’s basic.They teach us just enough to get by when we can’tget work here and have to go fruit-picking in Brittany.”
“Is that why you’re sitting all alone in a lighthouse inNovember?Because you can’t get work?”
Priddysighed.It was lovely up here, but the breeze was chilly, and hedidn’t have the strength to bare his soul even if he’d been soinclined.As far as picnics went, unless you counted the packet ofmelted mini Crunchies in the glove box, that was a bust too.“Nope.I’m just not very bright.”
“Jem Priddy, you’re bright as a star.”
Hetwitched in fright, and fell back a step or two from Merou, who wascalmly watching the horizon.The words had seemed to come frominside Priddy’s own head.Oh, just what he needed, to start hearingvoices and bloody freaking out today, the first time in five monthshe’d cared even slightly to make a good impression.“Hush,” Merousaid, though Priddy hadn’t spoken, and fastened a warm hold on hiswrist.“Maybe it’s best if you’re not a great genius rightnow.”
Priddyswallowed dryly.“Why?”
“A clever man would never risk a ride on a beast from Sea HorseMeadows.”Merou lifted two fingers to his lips and blew a long,piercing whistle.“Come up, then,” he shouted.“Come up, mydarling.”
“Who are you calling to?”
“Any one of them that might be in reach, between earth andsea—betweenmerandterre, ifyou like, since you enjoy mixing them up.”He whistled again.“Ican hear hoofbeats.Come on up, my lovely, my white beauty, myfoam-maned maid of the sea!”
Priddycould hear hoofbeats too.Gooseflesh rose on his spine.For amoment he thought Merou had done it—demolished the wall betweendaytime’s dull world and the mystery beyond it, the dancingsubatomic void Priddy had sensed at the peak of an outrageous high.But the horse that emerged from the spangled mist hardly fit thedescription.Only a chunky old girl from the moors, descended frompit ponies, feathered at the fetlocks and left to roam wild.“Isthat her?The sea horse?”
“Well, what did you expect—a bloody unicorn?”Merou held outhis arms.“Handsome is as handsome does.Isn’t that right, mydarling?”
She cametrotting over, head held high, blowing warily through her nostrils.Her flanks were matted with grass stains and mud.Merou caught herby the mane just over her withers, and she snaked her neck aroundhis back, either trying to bite or embrace him.To Priddy’sastonishment, he used her spinning momentum to launch himselfupwards, springing easily onto her back.“There you go, queen ofthe waves,” he said, laughing, and put down a lean-muscled arm.“Your turn now.Up you come.”
Priddybacked off.“You have to be joking.”
“Don’t you know how to drive—er, ride one?”
“No, I don’t.And you can’t either.You can’t just jump on arandom wild horse and...What about a saddle?How do yousteer?”
“Is there any need, in a place like this?Every direction’s asgood as all the rest.We’ll just go.”
“Merou, no.I don’t think I want to.I—”
