(Seven earth years after the first equestrian team were transported to Arcadia Centauri…)
“It’s not looking good, is it, Charlie? Being able to hold onto this place, I mean.”
The question from my blonde-haired cousin startled me as I carefully brushed the coat of the horse that I was attending to at that moment. Citrine – named on account of the almost orange tint to her bay fur – snorted as I turned to Robyn. She was checking over the only other occupant of the stables, Jade. Both of our mares having been given gemstone names by my sister, Imogen, when they were born on the farm. Citrine was a Portuguese horse - a Lusitano to be exact. And Jade was a Section B Welsh pony with a mixture of grey and white. A riding pony. A few years after the loss of our parents, my sister and I had been letting out part of it as Bed & Breakfast accommodation, with the horses as part of the countryside attraction. But in recent months, we simply weren’t making enough money to stay afloat…
“No, it isn’t, Robyn,” I admitted. Finishing my brushing of Citrine, I started to scratch at my short-cut ginger hair. A nervous habit of mine. “Ever since the bank sent the letter yesterday, Imogen’s been distraught… But let’s not talk about it in front of the horses. I don’t want to spook them…”
“They already know, Charlie. Look at them. Ears twitching. Bodies jittery. Especially Citrine,” Robyn pointed out. “They may not understand the human language – but they’ve picked up on our anxiety. Our moods.” She sighed and faced me directly. “What are we gonna do, eh? You and Imogen can’t afford to keep running what’s left of the house. She was distraught when you said we would have to sell the horses…”
I flung my arms up in the air. “I know! But what choice do we have? Our parents died during the COVID-19 pandemic - but the money left to me and my sister went on her care as a result of that car crash that broke her legs. Look - we’re grateful to you coming over from the pond to help us, here in Blighty, Robyn. But Imogen and I are going to have to move into a smaller house. We… We can’t afford to keep these girls here much longer.” I stroked both Jade and Citrine, staring at them in the eye, suddenly feeling my own eyes water. “I’m sorry…,” I whispered to them. “We’ve done what we could. Later today, a prospective buyer will visit you, and hopefully you pair will get to stay together… We don’t want to do this! It’s so hard to say goodbye, but we’re running out of money to… Hey!”
Citrine had just lowered her head and muzzled me. I could swear that she’d just given me a look of sorrow. Likewise, Jade pressed her lowered forehead against Robyn’s, brushing against my cousin’s bushy blonde locks. We patted them back, our throats so tight with sudden emotion that we couldn’t speak. Both Robyn and I were going to miss them. But Imogen was going to miss them even more. Since the accident, four years ago, they were her only real source of freedom and happiness. Riding our horse and pony in the field behind our house gave Imogen back her mobility, a rare chance to forget what she now was. Wheelchair-bound.
Suddenly, a car horn sounded from the front of the house. “Delivery!” I heard a man shout out.
“Coming!” I yelled back. I put my brush down and headed out of the stables.
“Hey!” protested Robyn.
“Hay is for horses, cousin.” I managed to smirk, despite my low mood.
“We supposed to be feeding the horses, Charlie! As well as changing their hay!”
“I need to see to this delivery. I wasn’t expecting anything. Were you?”
Robyn shook her head, as I glanced back. So, I headed into the house via the side door, taking off my wellingtons in the porchway and slipping on my training shoes instead. Then the man who’d called out over the wall of the yard, rang the doorbell at the front of the house.
It was a parcel delivery man. There was nothing to sign for, but the rectangular-shaped package was large and somewhat heavy. About the size of one of the radiator heaters that we had in the house. It wasn’t addressed to either Imogen or myself – just to our address. And we had no immediate neighbours, living on a country road. So not much chance of it being sent to the wrong house.
Odd. But I let the delivery man head back to his van and drive off.
“Imogen? Did you order a parcel?” I called out, as I picked up the package and carried it in both hands, whilst looking for my sister in first the lounge, then the dining room, then the kitchen. She wasn’t there. So, she had to have returned to her ground floor bedroom. But, upon trying, she didn’t answer my knock. Instead, I could hear her crying…
“Imogen? Can I come in?” Perplexed, I left the unopened package in the hallway, propped against a wall – and opened the door. Only to freeze, my eyes widening at the sight of the pile of pills on the little table besides Imogen’s wheelchair…
“Sis-! No!” I yelled and ran up to her, stopping my non-identical twin-sister drinking from the cup that she was raising to her lips. A cup that was milky-white from several dissolved tablets. And I also took in the envelope on the little table, addressed to me and Robyn.
Imogen gasped and looked up at me. She was crying behind her glasses, and rubbing her hands through her short cut auburn hair. I had teased her a bit in the distant past, telling her that she looked somewhat like Thelma from the Scooby Doo gang. To which she had stuck out her tongue and retorted that I resembled Shaggy. Which is unfair. Okay, my dress sense around the farm isn’t that neat, and I’m a bit thin. And I’m not brave. But I’m short, compared to Shaggy…
So who does Robyn resemble? Well, in contrast to us pair, she reminds me of a younger Robyn Wright.
I checked the little glass bottle. It was her pain medication, of course. “How many have you taken!?” I asked her, before grabbing the letter, still in its envelope. “Is this what I think it is!?”
“Y-yes! And I’ve j-just taken a few so far, Charlie…,” she sobbed. “Please… Let me go! I’m a burden on you and Robyn. I can’t go on without Citrine and Jade! You weren’t supposed to c-come back into the house yet! Oh god… It’s so hard to say goodbye…!”
“And I can’t go on without you, sis!” I went down upon my knees and hugged her. Thinking fast, I quickly rang Robyn’s mobile phone number. As she answered, I blurted out the situation.
“She did what!?” she yelled. “Oh, my god! Imogen… Are you feeling okay right now? Please be okay!”
“Ring 999, Robyn! I’ll stay here and watch over sis, in case she has a bad reaction or something.”
“Will do.” Robyn disconnected the call. In the meantime, I allowed Imogen to use my shoulder as her pillow to cry on.
The minutes passed. I checked Imogen’s temperature by touching my fingers against her forehead and hands. She was trembling as I gave her my handkerchief in order to dry her eyes. In the meantime, I dropped the unread suicide note on her dressing table, and instead handed over the framed photo of her in the saddle upon Jade, smiling for the camera, with me and Robyn on either side of her – with Citrine and Jade managing to stay still as Robyn and I held onto their reins. It had been taken in the field by one of our B&B customers, when Robyn came over from North America to live with us, just a few months ago. Robyn herself was born in Canada. But she married a yank – only for the marriage to break up after twelve years. Thank god there were no children – given how possessive and controlling Robyn’s ex turned out to be. In the end, Robyn decided to cross the Atlantic and come to live with us – and help us out, after learning about the deaths of her uncle and aunt. Our parents.
“I’m sorry, Charlie…,” Imogen sobbed. “The pain… The thought of losing the house, and losing the horses. After losing mum and dad…”
“I know, Imogen. But…please, live. Live for me and our favourite cousin! And live for Citrine and Jade. We’ll have to cancel our appointment with that prospective buyer today… And…? Did you order a parcel?”
Imogen shook her head, looking puzzled. “What parcel?”
Frowning, I fetched the delivery from outside. Placing it on her bed, I managed to unwrap the outer packaging, finding a sealed letter. Opening that, I read out a short message:
‘To give you all at this place a fresh start. And a better life. Where you all can run freely…’ There was one word written underneath this line. It read: ‘Fate’.
“A fresh start…? Wh-what is in the package?” Imogen asked.
“Money?” I ventured, tearing into the wrapping paper with my fingers and thumbs. “But who would give us money? We’ve got no other family left, and our few friends have forgotten us, when they moved away…” I trailed off, as I removed the cardboard cover from the framed painting that was now unwrapped. A centaur couple – a male and a female - were depicted running across a flowery meadow, as they held hands, smiling at each other. I read aloud the title at the bottom. “ ‘Growing the herd’? No artist name… Wha-?”
The painting was now glowing with a white light. The colours divided into all parts of the rainbow. I saw Imogen staring at the illuminated artwork, her mouth hanging open with wonder. I too was slack jawed, my mind trying to comprehend what was happening… I dropped the painting and backed away. Imogen stopped me going any further, as her hand nervously grabbed mine.
Then the multicoloured glow from the painting somehow filled my sister’s bedroom, and for several moments the lights were all that I could see.
When the glow faded away, and my eyesight was returned to normal, I came to – as if jolted from sleepwalking…
“What the hell…!?”
But it wasn’t me who spoke. Instead, it was Robyn – now standing just a few feet away from me and Imogen. And the two horses were next to her. But we weren’t in either the house – or the stables. Instead, the five of us were somehow in the middle of a wide street, set within a run down-looking town. The surface of the street itself was bare earth, whilst the wide pavements were made of concreate. Some of the houses had cracked walls, whilst others looked to be in decent shape.
Wait. No. Not exactly houses. They were all only one storey high. Bungalows. But judging from the outside signs on the walls, some seemed to be shops.
And bizarrely, it was now evening. The sun was setting. And elsewhere in the sky was the moon. Wait… On the opposite horizon to the sun, at one end of the wide street, we could see a second moon rising…
“What on earth…!?” Imogen gasped, the photo frame of her, me, and Robyn still held in one hand. A shaking hand.
“No sis… This can’t be earth. Not with two moons in the sky,” I muttered, now looking for the mysterious painting that how somehow brought all five of us here.
But there was no sign of it. It was just us – alone in a strange world…