“Where’s Ben?” This year he wasn’t leading the donkeys.
“Joined the army,” Mr. Hislop said proudly. “Left these sands for the sands of Afghanistan. Not heard for a while.” His voice was strained with worry. A tight band squeezed my heart.
Harness bells jingling, Jemima trotted across the sand, Ben limping by her side.
A white organza dress flowed across her flank as I rode her towards our waiting guests.