“Our lives are full of problems,” said Hanif, “and you should help us, not add to them. Do you hear, Jupiter? Now do stop messing about and walk on a loose rein.”
They schooled at the walk. Alice was pleased with Saffron. The pelham was being a great help and she could almost always keep his neck the right way round walking and halting. Jupiter was still jogging and looking round for excitement. He still seemed over-fresh, but gradually he calmed down and began to walk on a long rein.
When they were tired of walking they agreed to try a trot. Jupiter set off immediately at a sideways canter and Saffron, catching his sense of excitement, began to stargaze. Alice walked, halted and started again, this time smoothly and on a circle. She practised circles on both reins and then, becoming bolder, attempted a serpentine.
Hanif, tired of battling with his snatching, bouncing pony, stopped for a rest and stood in the centre, watching her.
“You’re doing quite well,” he said. That’s a big improvement. When Saffy’s going properly he looks quite a superior sort of pony.”
“It’s partly the bit. He’s not afraid of it in the same way he was of the snaffle. I suppose being large and round and not having a joint it feels quite different.”
“When you’re worn out, will you stop and watch me?” Hanif said. “I’m not getting anywhere and you may be able to see what I’m doing wrong.”
Alice’s legs were already aching. She had to squeeze so hard to keep Saffron on the bit, and glad of an excuse for a rest she halted carefully, beside Hanif.
“He’s not bad at the walk. Look.” Hanif set off round the school on a long rein.
“You see, I’m giving him his head at the walk, no problems, but when we try trotting …” He picked up the reins and a pulling match began. Soon Jupiter was cantering sideways and flinging his head about.
“Try circling,” said Alice. But Jupiter merely proved that it was possible to circle at a sideways canter. Swinging his quarters he bounced round and round until Hanif began to wrench at the reins angrily.
“Walk,” said Alice. “Try and get him to relax again.”
“It’s no use.” Hanif sounded despondent. “The same thing happens every time.”
“But supposing you start off with a completely Iong rein, exactly as though you were walking. Don’t shorten them this time. Leave them lying on his neck and start off very gently.”
“I’ll probably gallop twice round the field,” said Hanif gloomily. “Trot on, Jupe.”
Jupiter started fast, but then he seemed confused to find he had nothing to pull against. He gradually settled to a shambling trot with his head low.
“It feels very peculiar, unbalanced,” said Hanif, “but it’s restful for the arms. Though how I’m supposed to circle and jump like this is beyond me.”
“It’s beyond me too,” agreed Alice. “But I should go on riding like that. At least he’s stopped being a fiery charger.”
They schooled on. Experimenting, Hanif found that he could persuade Jupiter to walk or halt by word of mouth and taking his weight back and he could make vague circles with a slight feel on the inside rein.
“I don’t see what the next stage is,” he said when they both stopped for a rest. “I suppose I can go on trotting round like this until next Wednesday.”
“We need more advice. We’re doing what David told us to and it’s working, but we need to be told what to do next. Do you think he’d take another look at us?”
“Before Wednesday?”
“Yes.”
“It’s asking a lot. I don’t think he enjoyed teaching us; we were too awful. I think he’ll just say no.”
“That wouldn’t kill us,” said Alice. “Do you think if he knew we were really serious about schooling he might agree to help us?”
“I don’t know,” answered Hanif. “We’ve only met him once and we didn’t really get to know him.”
“The Robertses know him best. We might ask them what they think,” suggested Alice. “And if Rupert and Lizzie are trying to school they may be desperate for advice too. I’d telephone them all, only Aunt Margaret’s in a great fuss about her bill. Why don’t we ride over? Are you doing anything tomorrow?”
“No, just trying to tame Jupe.”
“Will you come then? We could take our lunches. Let’s visit Lizzie and Rupert first, and if they agree we’ll ask the Robertses whether we dare ask David. We don’t want to put him off the pony club altogether.”
It was a sunny April morning with a pale blue sky and small scudding clouds. A good omen, thought Alice, looking up through the still bare branches of the beech trees as she waited in the lane for Hanif. Aunt Margaret was training one of her dogs, walking it up and down the paddock and making it stand at attention in front of imaginary judges. They both looked rather bored.
Hanif came down the lane, walking on a loose rein. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “I didn’t dare try trotting.”
Along the narrow path through the wood both ponies wanted to lead, and whichever was behind jogged and pulled or jogged and stargazed, but once they had crossed the river and could walk side by side up Mr Crankshaw’s muddy track, they settled down.
The Wheelers’ house was old, and it peered out from beneath a mass of ivy. Half-attached trellises dangled from its walls, and unsupported creepers and climbing roses grew downwards instead of up. They rode into the cobbled yard at the side of the house. The stable doors sagged on their hinges and needed painting. Headcollars, buckets and grooming tools lay scattered everywhere.
It was very different from Harry’s weedless gravel, clipped hedges and perfect loosebox, thought Alice. Very different from Shawbury with its gloomy, dripping trees and the smell of dogs’ meat cooking. She liked it better.
“I can hear their voices,” said Hanif. “Do you think we should look for them down there?”
They took a path through the overgrown laurels and came to a field. It was a very bald field. The grass was eaten right down to the earth, and it was scattered with bits of jumps and battered oil drums. Rupert was riding Rajah and Lizzie Rosie. They seemed to be schooling earnestly.
“You’re right, he is like a board,” shouted Rupert. “In some ways he’s worse than Rosie.”
“She’s so long, she seems to go on for ever,” Lizzie shouted back. “I’ve tried everything, but I can’t seem push her together!”
Lizzie was looking down with a worried expression, completely absorbed by her schooling. It was Rupert who saw Alice and Hanif at the gate.
“Visitors,” he shouted, obviously welcoming any interruption. Kicking Rajah into a canter, he came thundering over. “As you can see we’re obediently schooling. But as you may also have noticed, we are not making much impression.”
“We’ve improved a bit,” Alice told him. “We can both walk, but we need more advice. We can’t wait until Wednesday.”
“It’s no use coming here for advice,” said Lizzie, arriving at a fast, unbalanced trot. “We need it more than anyone else.”
“We hoped you might be feeling desperate too.” Alice looked at Hanif.
“What Alice means is, do we have the courage to ask David for another schooling session for the lunatic ponies before next Wednesday,” said Hanif quickly.
“Oh, we can’t.” Lizzie sounded horrified at the idea. “He was quite worn out by the last one. And we were all dreadfully bad. I don’t think he liked teaching us one bit.”
“I was afraid you would say that,” admitted Alice sadly.
“Of course, you could make out a case that it’s in his own interest,” said Rupert. “I mean, if we improve we won’t be so ghastly to teach and we won’t drive him potty. Once we’re all riding well on our beautifully schooled ponies, he’ll be able to hold up his head among the other D.C.s.”
“But you can’t possibly ask for an extra rally,” objected Lizzie.
“No, not a rally, just advice. I can walk and trot on a loose rein. What do I do next?”
“My question’s about the canter. I can keep Saffy on the bit at walk and trot, but he turns inside out the moment we canter,” added Alice.
“I still don’t understand what to do about Rosie’s nose. I’ve schooled her all morning and if anything it’s worse, so I could certainly do with advice if there’s any going,” said Rupert.
“We could consult Lynne and Paul,” suggested Alice. “They know David best.”
“Yes, let’s do that,” agreed Rupert. “Anything to stop schooling. Here, take your ramrod Ra, Lizzie. I think he’s un-bendable and you’ve got to accept a lifetime of square circles.”
“No, I won’t give up,” Lizzie answered firmly. “I’m sure Ra is really as good as all the other ponies. It’s probably just me.”
They rode back down the winding road towards Garland Farm.
“It’s lovely here,” said Alice, looking at the primroses on the banks and the circle of smooth green hills.
“It’s a great place for riding. Netti and Ollie have gone for a gallop up Beacon Hill.” Lizzie pointed. “The tall one, over there. But of course the beech woods are best in the summer; cool and shady and the ground doesn’t get so hard.”
As they drew nearer to the farm they all became silent, for the favour they were about to ask seemed to be growing larger, while the importance of their reasons for asking it was shrinking to nothing. They found Lynne and Paul painting their jumps. They had the poles propped along the fence and Lynne was painting sections in white, and Paul in red, both leaving spaces for the other colour to go on later. They seemed very pleased to see the pony club members.
“We thought we’d smarten things up a bit for Wednesday,” Paul explained, “and since David bought poles, we thought we’d have ours coloured.”
“Has he recovered from the rally?” asked Alice.
“Looks like it. He’s been round the farm in the Land Rover this morning,” Paul answered.
“He told Mum he was absolutely whacked after coping with us lot, but I think he’s over it now,” added Lynne.
“Where is he?” asked Rupert, looking round the farm buildings.
“Gone for his lunch, I should think. It’s half-past twelve.”
“We can’t disturb him at lunchtime,” said Lizzie, glad to grab at any obstacle.
“We’ve come to ask him for some more advice,” Alice explained. “We’ve all been doing the things he told us and we’ve improved a bit, but now we’ve all run into new problems and we’ve got questions to ask. It’ll be a terrible waste of time to wait until next Wednesday.”
“And when he’s got a whole ride he can’t spend much time on us: it holds everything up,” added Hanif.
The Robertses looked at each other. “Mum’s always telling us we mustn’t bother him,” said Lynne, “but you’re the pony club and that’s different. If you like I’ll pop round and tell him you’re here.”
“Yes, and you might explain that we’ve come for advice,” Rupert told her.
“And that we’ve brought our lunches so we don’t mind waiting until it’s convenient,” added Hanif.
Lynne ran round the corner of the Dutch barn and vanished.
“It looks a nice house, old,” said Hanif, studying the back, for it had been built to face south and the Downs.
“Yes, it’s very old,” Paul sounded quite proud. “And David’s made it very posh inside. He was going to get married, you see. Everything was settled and then he had the accident. His girlfriend chucked him when he was in hospital. It was when they thought he would never be able to walk again.”
“What a horrible girlfriend,” said Lizzie indignantly.
“Dad always thought she was a good-looker, but Lynne and I didn’t like her much. Mum says David’s well out of it,” added Paul.
“Poor David, he must have been miserable. That on top of everything else,” said Alice, “though I suppose you’ve to look at it from her side too.”
“Well, at the time he was fighting to get better. He was determined to get out of his wheelchair. Dad used to go and visit him in hospital. He said he was really brave. Then, when he got home it all seemed to hit him, and he got really depressed.”
“It was a good thing he’d bought the farm and lucky he’d got all of you,” said Alice.
“Well, jockeys don’t go on for ever, so, if they’ve any sense, they save when they’re doing well and buy a place where they train a few horses later, when they retire. David’s got a row of boxes by the house. But now no one knows whether he’ll be capable of training. The kick he got on the head is the worst of it. His brain was damaged and that’s why his left arm doesn’t work and he still gets headaches.”
“He’s welcome to use us as guinea-pigs,” said Hanif.
“It’s quite different training racehorses to teaching the pony club,” Paul began, but Alice interrupted him. “Here’s Lynne coming back.”
“He says he’ll come and see you in about twenty minutes to half an hour when he’s had lunch,” Lynne told them.
“How did he take it?”
“Did you tell him we wanted advice?”
“Did he seem cross?” they asked, crowding round her.
“I don’t know really. He seemed a bit put out to start with, but then he said O.K. and went on cooking his chops. Everything takes him such a long time with only one hand that works, but he doesn’t like it if you keep offering to help.”
The pony club members looked at each other doubtfully. It didn’t seem very hopeful.
“Oh well, we’d better eat our lunches,” said Hanif despondently. “Can we tie the ponies to the barn, Lynne?”
Hanif was packing his picnic box away in his rucksack when David appeared round the corner of the barn. His limp looked even worse than on Wednesday, thought Alice, trying not to stare. His walk was a sort of crabwise movement. Perhaps they really ought not to bother him.
“You wanted to see me?” asked David, sitting down the nearest hay bale.
“Yes,” they all answered at once, and then they sat round speechless, each hoping that someone else would begin.
Alice took the plunge. “We’ve been schooling, doing all the things you told us, and the ponies have improved a bit but now we need more advice and next Wednesday’s such a long way off. We wondered, well, if you could take another look at us and our ponies.”
“Just to see if we’re on the right track,” Hanif add hastily, “and where we go next. I’ve got Jupiter to walk and trot on a loose rein, but I’ve no control and I don’t see how it works show-jumping.”
“And I’ve cornered and circled Rajah for hours, but it doesn’t seem to be doing much good so I can’t be doing it properly,” wailed Lizzie.
“And I can go round and round the school now. We don’t charge off at all, but Rosie doesn’t show the smallest sign of going on the bit,” complained Rupert.
“Three of you were the lunatic fringe, weren’t you?” asked David. “I seem to recognise the worst behaved of ponies.”
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” agreed Alice sadly. “But we are determined to improve. We’ve all been schooling very seriously.”
David looked round at their doleful faces and suddenly smiled. “All right, you’ve convinced me. I didn’t expect to see any of you again after the rough time I gave you on Wednesday, but if you’re that keen I’d better try to help. We’ll go in the small paddock and take a look at all these problems.”
“Oh thanks.”
“Great,” they said, rushing to buckle nosebands and girths.
“Could someone fetch my shooting stick from the Land Rover?” asked David as they mounted.
“I will.” Lizzie trotted off towards the house and returned in a few moments, bearing the stick proudly.
“You go on and start walking round,” said David, getting to his feet painfully.
The riders were all grimly intent on showing improvement, but the ponies were excited and uncooperative. Saffron was jogging and stargazing, Jupiter fighting for his head. A
lice turned away from the others and circled, Hanif rode round in the opposite direction from the Wheelers and dropped his reins. David reached the centre of the paddock and sat watching them.
Then he said, “Look, they’re all so completely different I think I’d better see you one at a time. Alice first. The rest of you come into the centre and watch.”
Alice circled, using her legs desperately, determined to prove that she could keep Saffron’s head down at the walk whatever happened at the trot.
“You’ve got the idea,” David called to her. “He’s happier in that bit and you’ve persuaded him to accept your contact with his mouth. But you must remember that it’s difficult for him to carry his head the correct way; you’ve got to allow time for the muscles to develop. When they do, everything will become easy for him, but until then you must give him frequent rests. After every spell of going on the bit, give him a spell of walking on a long rein—let him stretch his neck right out.”
“Supposing he puts it up?” asked Alice.
“If he’s calm he won’t. But go on, give him a long rein now. Good. This applies to all of you.” David turned to the stationary riders. “When you’ve schooled for, say, ten minutes, give your pony a long rein and if he walks round stretching out his neck as Saffron is, that shows your schooling has been on the right lines.”
He gestured towards Alice. “Keep him going. It’s his neck muscles we’re resting, not your legs. Remember that on a lively pony you must use your legs very quietly every stride. Now, pick up your reins, very gently, put him back on the bit and, when you’re ready, try a trot.”
Saffron threw up his head and set off at his jerky stiff-backed trot.
“Keep rising,” shouted David. “It’s no use trying to sit on a stiff-backed pony; you only make him worse. Use your legs together as you touch the saddle. No, it’s no use. You’ve lost him. Come back to a walk and try again. Now this time I want you to squeeze your inside rein in time with your legs. Give a squeeze at the same moment as you ask him to trot. The idea is to keep his jaw soft and flexed, to persuade him not to stiffen or resist as he changes pace. The trouble about horses is that their jaws, necks, backs and hindlegs are all attached and if anyone of them is stiff the whole lot are affected. Off you go, Alice, and keep squeezing.” He let her trot around several times.
Pony Club Cup (Woodbury Pony Club Book 1) Page 5