Strange Star by Emma Carroll Read Free Book Online Page A

covered her ears. ‘Don’t talk about the butchers. You know I hate it when they go for meat.’
    Mam, though, seized on what I’d said. ‘By heck, Lizzie, you’re right. Actually, we still could bring the cattle down here. The grass is so poor they’re eatinghay anyway. It won’t matter if we put them in with the pigs for a few days.’ And she beamed at me as if I was suddenly the cleverest, most wonderful person in the world. ‘Tell you what, shall we do it now?’
    My mouth dropped. ‘The whole lot? Now? Without Da? But there’s twelve of them and they’re awful skittish.’
    ‘Nonsense! We’ll get them down here quicker than your da can even think Eden Court shelves. We don’t really need his help for this.’
    I gawped at her. So my mam reckoned we could herd twelve longhorn cattle down Crockers Lane. That meant rounding them up, getting them out the gate and through a sea of mud, all the way to our orchard. And before the weather set in again. She was, without question, insane.
    Seeing my face, Mam laughed.
    ‘Lizzie, my love,’ she said, touching my cheek. ‘Don’t doubt what you’re capable of.’
    Her hand felt warm against my skin. She was smiling at me, for me. And in that moment I believed her. Once the weather turned, it’d be harder than ever to feed the cattle. Before I knew it, I’d agreed: yes, we’d bring the cattle down to our orchard. We even spat on our palms and shook hands to seal the deal.
    Peg and me gulped down the rest of our oatmeal: we had to with Mam stood over us, toe tapping on the flagstones. She’d noticed too how the wind had changed, and kept glancing out of the window at the sky.
    Once we’d clothed ourselves in shawls and almostdry boots, Mam hurried us across the yard. The door to Da’s workshop stood half-open; through it I glimpsed him sorting his tools, and again, felt that surge of pride.
    ‘Don’t bother your father; he’s busy,’ Mam said.
    ‘Shouldn’t we tell him what we’re doing?’
    ‘He’ll see soon enough. Now stop dithering.’ Grabbing my arm, she tugged me onwards. It was typical Mam, letting her actions speak louder than words. But it made me nervous. I didn’t like lies; they had a way of catching you out.

8
    Our field was a fourteen-acre spot that ran uphill as far as the churchyard wall. By the time we reached it, our feet and skirt hems were soaked again. We were out of breath too. In the cold air, the mud on Crockers Lane had turned thicker, making the walk slow and tiring. On the smaller puddles, ice had already begun to form. And the sky had that strange, swollen look that signalled snow was on its way.
    Once inside the gate, Mam cupped her hands to her mouth. Her holler brought twelve hungry longhorn cattle lumbering down the hill towards us. They were expecting hay and turnips so the sight of us, empty-handed, brought them to a slithering halt about thirty yards away.
    Mam called again. They watched us warily. One beast took a step forward, then stopped and blew steam through his nose. The rest simply stood, staring.
    ‘What do we do now?’ I said.
    ‘I’ll go round the back of them,’ said Mam. ‘You stay by the gate.’
    It wasn’t that simple.
    One step towards them and the cattle took off in a whirl of hooves and mud. When they reached the far wall they stopped again, their great freckled heads bent low. It was then I noticed how the light had changed. The grass, the hedge, the cattle all looked leached of colour. A blast of wind blew my wet skirts tight against my legs, and I felt the first snowflakes tickle my face.
    ‘The weather’s turned.’ I glanced worriedly at the sky.
    ‘All the more reason to bring them in today,’ said Mam. She’d brought with her a pitchfork for nudging the cattle’s rumps; she pointed it now at us. ‘Don’t move. Either of you.’
    As Mam strode off across the field, Peg began to grizzle. ‘I’m cold, Lizzie. Can’t we go home?’
    ‘Soon, I promise.’
    Narrowing my eyes,