Sea Horses by Louise Cooper

D ad said, ‘Nearly there,’ and Tamzin Weston's heart sank into her shoes. She looked out of the car window at the little Cornish village they were driving through, and thought how bleak everything looked – as bleak as she felt.
    She desperately wanted to say, ‘Please, Dad, please, I don't want to be here!’ but she bit the words back. She knew that Dad and Mum had to go abroad because of work. She also knew why she couldn't go with them. They would be travelling all over Canada, living mostly in hotels, which would make things like school impossible. Tamzin was trying to understand, but it would be a whole year before her parents came home again. And meanwhile she must stay with her nan – Dad's mother – in an isolated house in a place that she had never seen before. It made her feel very dismal and more than a little scared.
    It wouldn't have been so bad if she really knew Nan. But they hadn't met since Tamzin was about five, and Tamzin could hardly remember her. They sent each other Christmas and birthday cards and presents, but Nan hadn't been to visit them for years. She was an artist, and Dad joked that she was a bit eccentric. She looked nice in photographs but what sort of person was she really? Tamzin couldn't help wondering if maybe Nan didn't like children. It would explain why she had hardly ever come to visit, and the thought worried Tamzin. If it was true, how on earth were they going to get on?
    Well, she would soon find out. They had left the village behind, and now they were driving along a narrow lane with rough, plant-covered stone walls – Dad said they were called Cornish hedges – on either side. Then the lane turned, and ahead of them was a deep valley that led towards the sea, with cliffs rising on either side. Down a steep hill, then Dad turned the car on to a rough track that led off the road, and a minute later Tamzin saw Chapel Cottage for the first time.
    The house stood on its own in a small garden surrounded by scrub and gorse. It was built of grey stone, and in the dull October afternoon it looked chilly and unwelcoming. They bumped down the last stretch of track and stopped next to a little yellow car that was parked outside the house. As Dad switched the engine off, the house's front door opened and Nan appeared.
    She was tall, with black hair piled up on her head, and she was wearing baggy old trousers and a loose top that was splashed with paint stains. Her skin was very tanned, and she was smiling. They got out of the car and Nan kissed Dad. ‘Peter!’ she said, then turned to Tamzin. ‘Hello, Tamzin, dear. It's a long time since we last met, isn't it?’
    Tamzin nodded. ‘Yes… Nan.’
    ‘You must be tired after the journey,’ Nan continued, ‘so come and have some tea before we see about your luggage.’
    She led Dad into the house, still talking, and Tamzin trailed after them. They entered the kitchen, which was enormous and very old-fashioned, with a low ceiling that made it dark and gloomy. A fluffy black cat was curled on a chair. Tamzin held out a hand but the cat jumped down and walked away, which didn't make her feel any better.
    She sat at the big wooden table while Nan poured tea. Dad was talking about Canada, and Tamzin tried not to listen. She was on the verge of tears already and the conversation only made her feel worse. So to distract herself, she looked around the kitchen – and had a pleasant surprise.
    There was a painting of a horse on the wall, several china horses on the shelves, and a row of polished horse brasses hanging from one of the beams. Tamzin's spirits lifted a little. Her biggest dream was to learn to ride and, maybe, have a pony of her own one day.
    Nan saw her looking. ‘Do you like horses?’ she asked.
    ‘I love them!’ said Tamzin.
    ‘She certainly does,’ Dad agreed. ‘She's always wanted to have riding lessons but there aren't any riding schools near us.’
    ‘Oh, it's very different here,’ said Nan. ‘In fact there's a