by Dave Warner
'Nice trick. How did you think that up?'
Charlotte couldn't tell her it was a Hollywood tale Leila had passed on. A certain well-known actress with very large lips had been rude to the make-up artist and the make-up artist had got her own back. When the chilli was crushed, Charlotte popped up Emma's red lipstick and rolled it in the paste.
'She's going to be hot stuff!'
Charlotte placed the lipstick ready for action.
'What about Rebecca?' asked Hannah.
Charlotte shook her head. 'Nothing for her.'
'But she's just as bad as the other two. Maybe a bit dumber but ...'
Charlotte winked.
'It's always good to leave a suspect.'
Hannah was breathless with admiration.
'You're so smart to think of that.'
'I got it from an actor's story,' she fudged. The bell sounded. Payback time. Charlotte couldn't wait.
The class began predictably. It was pointed out to the girls that while wearing make-up was discouraged in the usual course of their time at the JOES, a limited amount of make-up was acceptable at awards and so forth. Under the watchful gaze of Eve, Charlotte was commanded to try applying eye make-up. Charlotte had no idea what she was doing and wound up with globs on her eyelashes and rings under her eyes.
Pretending she thought Charlotte was in a mask, Emma began screaming, 'Please Mr Burglar, you can have all our make-up. You definitely need it.'
Lucinda chimed in. 'Somebody should contact the RSPCA. It's wrong that a raccoon should have to attend a make-up class.'
Apart from Hannah, who glared at The Evil Three, the rest of the class guffawed. Charlotte bore it all, pretending to laugh it off, telling herself her time is coming. There was nothing fake about Charlotte's smile, though, when Lucinda began to dip into her foundation.
She stirred her make-up brush around and began to apply the foundation onto her cheeks.
Across from her, Emma preened and moistened her lips. In her hand was the red lipstick into which Charlotte and Hannah had ground raw chilli. Charlotte held her breath. This was too good to be true. Would Emma realise?
Emma was too interested in looking at herself in the mirror and showing off to the class how well she could do her lips. She drew the stick across her bottom lip.
Lucinda, painfully proud of her thick hair, and always dismissive of everybody else's, picked up her hairbrush and waggled it at the class.
'Okay, straw mats. Look and learn how to care for lustrous hair.'
Charlotte could see Hannah was fighting hard not to burst out laughing. They met eyes and shot each other a thumbs up. Charlotte felt a warm glow inside as Lucinda pulled the brush through her tresses. The molasses made the brush stick. The harder Lucinda brushed, the stickier it got. Lucinda began screaming.
'Something's wrong with my hair!'
In her panicked attempts to yank out the brush she pulled out a huge clump of hair. Some girls shrieked in sympathy, others, Charlotte and Hannah included, laughed their heads off.
'It's not funny. It's not fun...eeeeeee!' Lucinda screamed as another shrub of her hair was ripped out. By now the coffee was sticking in globs to her cheeks.
Eve turned up her nose and sniffed.
'Has somebody been smuggling in coffee?' she asked.
Emma found a great deal of amusement at her friend's discomfort.
That was until the chilli kicked in. She let loose a howl.
'Owwwwwwww. My mouth is on fire.'
She ran from the room, banging into the table and sending cosmetics flying. Charlotte and Hannah watched gleefully through the window as Emma appeared on the lawn outside and leapt under the sprinkler. She jigged around for ages, getting thoroughly soaked. The class was in uproar, the girls with tears of laughter rolling down their cheeks. Dripping wet, ignoring the perplexed Eve, Emma stormed back into the room and fixed on Rebecca, who was howling with laughter.
'This was you, wasn't it?'
'Huh?'
The accusation slowly wound its way from Rebecca's ears to her brain and her laughter stopped.
'You think I ...?'
Emma loomed over her.
'Of course it was you. Maybe this dumb thing you've got going is just an act. Nobody could be as stupid as you make out. Lucinda smells like Starbucks and my lips are burning. I'm going to make you pay.'
Lucinda, the hairbrush stuck in her hair like some plastic Halloween hatchet, her cheeks sticky and brown, realised what she meant.
'Me too.'
'What are you talking about?' asked Rebecca, her eyes growing wide in panic as the others approached. 'It wasn't me.'
'No? Then how come nothing happened to you?'
Eve tried to intervene as they seized Rebecca but she was no match for two angry princesses. Charlotte reflected that this trick could only work with girls who weren't really good friends at all. As Rebecca let out a high squeal and Eve disappeared to find Mrs Cooper, Lucinda and Emma began hurling make-up at their 'friend'. Soon she looked a lot like a preschooler's finger painting.
Mrs Cooper and the gardener returned and pulled Lucinda and Emma off Rebecca. Mrs Cooper then made them clean out the toilets as punishment and warned them that any more such behaviour would have them reported to Miss Strudworth. All in all it was a triumph.
Sleeping out in the open wasn't pleasant like it had been in Snake Hills. It was cold and there were weeds and pieces of machinery dotted throughout the paddock. But given the appearance of the house and the condition of the float, it was probably best. Mark the Shark, as Leila had begun to think of him, visited her some time after the sun went down and offered her a carrot. She was so hungry she ate it. What a long way it was from her climate-controlled monster Winnebago to here. What a plunge from the heights of Hollywood. She told herself now she had been an idiot. Giving up the sort of lifestyle others dreamed about for mere friendship. Leila had seen a couple of TV movies about a King of England who chucked in the crown for love. What a schmuck. Becoming friends with a human, what had she been thinking? A sickening thought crossed Leila's mind. What if Charlotte didn't care that she'd gone? Charlotte had Hannah now. Sure, Leila was her mount but the stables were full of sycophants who would be happy for Charlotte to ride them to victory. Maybe this was it for Leila? Maybe Mark the Shark was as good as it was going to get?
After the make-up class, Charlotte's time at Charmsworth passed tolerably though it wasn't exactly fun. There were the seemingly endless lessons on dining etiquette, the worst of which was peeling an orange, the arduous hours of being made to sit straight and the excruciating ballet class, which was supposed to offer a girl poise and grace. Many of the other JOES, including Hannah, had learned ballet for years. For them it was nothing. For Charlotte, having rarely been out of saddle, trying to hold a graceful pose was akin to trying to catch lightning, but even though she struggled, there was nothing too bad about it. Not without The Evil Three there to crack cruel comments at her expense. It had been the makeup class and the subsequent demise of The Evil Three that had kept Charlotte going. No matter how bad it got peeling fruit, folding napkins or trying to hold an arabesque, she could replay that class over in her mind and in no time there would be a smile on her face.
The memory faded as the coach came to a halt in the driveway of Thornton Downs. All she could think of was Leila. The coach had stopped off at a service station on the way and Charlotte had stocked up on chocolate bars and potato chips for her friend.
As soon as Charlotte had grabbed her pack from the luggage compartment, she charged for the stables. She was easily the first in.
'Leila? Leila?'
She ran down the aisle to Leila's stall. Her heart was pounding with excitement.
'You'll never guess how I got back at The Evil Three ...'
She pushed open the stall door but there was no sign of Leila. She must be out in the paddock somewhere. Charlotte ran back outside, passing Hannah and a few other JOES who were just arriving.
&
nbsp; 'Got to find Leila,' she shouted.
Charlotte ran to what was now known as A paddock. When the horses were let out from the stables, this is where they were taken. But the paddock was empty. A sense of unease began to crawl over Charlotte like spiders. The sound of Chadwick's golf-buggy made her turn. Chadwick stopped to get out and move a sprinkler.
'Excuse me,' she said.
Chadwick looked up.
'My horse, Leila. Do you know where she is? She's not in her stall.'
'She the brown filly?'
'She's bay.'
'Whatever that means. No, I don't know where she is. I sold her.'
It was like somebody had tied heavy boulders to Charlotte's feet and dropped her into the river. She felt herself plummeting. She felt woozy and couldn't breathe. Everything went black.
'Charlotte, are you okay?'
Charlotte blinked and the blurry image in front of her focused and became a concerned Hannah offering her a drink from her water bottle. It took Charlotte a moment to recall why she was sitting on the ground. She had fainted. She took the water, feeling stronger by the second.
'Where is Chadwick?'
'He ran off to find Mrs Stapleton.'
Mrs Stapleton was the first-aid officer.
Hannah continued. 'What happened?'
'He sold Leila. I have to speak to Strudworth.'
'But Strudworth isn't here. She's gone to be with her sick sister.'
Charlotte groaned and made it to her feet.
'Then maybe Bevans can help.'
'He's gone too.'
Hannah explained what Fiona, the hand, had told her. Charlotte looked up to see Chadwick hustling back with Mrs Stapleton, a chubby woman with curls.
'Are you all right, Charlotte?'
'Are you?' replied Charlotte. It looked like Mrs Stapleton's hands were bleeding.
Mrs Stapleton blushed, 'Oh, my hands? That's just tomato. Mr Chadwick has me helping out in the kitchen.'
She shot Chadwick a harsh look. He shifted uncomfortably and announced that as Charlotte seemed fine he'd be off.
'Just a second,' Charlotte wasn't letting him go that easily. 'I want to know what's happened to Leila.'
Chadwick hauled up his narrow shoulders.
'That's none of your business.'
'She's my horse.'
'She is not your horse. Never was. She belonged to Thornton Downs and now she belongs to somebody else. You can find some other mount.'
Mrs Stapleton wiped her hands on her apron and checked Charlotte's temperature with her hand.
'I don't want "some other mount". I want Leila. She's my friend. Tell me who you sold her to.'
'It's none of your business, young lady. Now I have work to do.'
Chadwick strode off. It was lucky there was nothing about to throw at him. Charlotte was an accurate shot. Mrs Stapleton rubbed Charlotte's shoulders.
'I'm sorry, dear. I'm sure Miss Strudworth will be able to help when she gets back.'
But when would that be? And would it be too late for Leila?
Chapter 6
That first night Leila hadn't been able to sleep. She went round and round the paddock looking for a way out but it was barbed wire all the way. She thought of jumping the fence. It was dangerous but she had jumped higher. The trouble was, she had no idea where she was. If she escaped, she was at the mercy of whoever found her and they might be worse than Mark the Shark. Besides, if Charlotte did try to track her down, it would be better if she was here. Finally the sun came up and not long after, Leila smelt the aroma of frying bacon and eggs wafting her way. She was starving. What she wouldn't do for a cooked breakfast! Perhaps Mark the Shark was making her something? He clearly knew she was a star.
A short time later he appeared, making his way from the house whistling. Leila's eyes zoomed in on the bacon and egg burger in his hand. Juices dripped from the side. Yum, this was more like it. Leila could come around to even liking this guy.
'Morning, baby,' he said.
Leila's eyes stayed on the bun. She felt like saying, 'Hello, handsome.' Sure, it was a lie but when food was involved ...
But then Mark the Shark took a big bite from the burger. And kept eating. This was torture!
'Come on, Leila, we got a lot of cash to earn.'
A few hours later, her back aching, Leila stood in the hot sun and surveyed the scene before her with a sinking heart. A row of children, as far as the eye could see, stretched ahead of her. Little ones with hands sticky from fairy floss, big fat ones who should have been on a forced diet, screaming twins who sounded like the jets doing a fly-by before the World Series. And behind her, the barking voice of Mark the Shark.
'Step right up, kiddies, and get ready to ride Leila the Hollywood superstar. Yes, friends, Leila, star of such classics as Dressage to Kill and Hedge Your Bets, for just ten bucks. Or have a photo with Leila for another ten.'
For more than five hours Leila had been forced to endure this degradation. Her agent would have had a fit. Mark the Shark was raking in the cash and all he'd offered her was a few cubes of sugar.
With horror, Leila watched a father with four kids approach the steps.
'Can I put all four on at once?' the father asked O'Regan.
Leila shook her head furiously. O'Regan smiled at the father.
'I'm a family man myself so I'll give you a break. Four plus a photo for thirty.'
'Great.' The man reached for his cash.
FOUR! Leila opened her mouth to protest, then realised she would be even worse off if the Shark knew she could talk. As if to inflict the final indignity, a swarm of flies scooted up Leila's nose. She sneezed, shook her head and blew out, trying to get rid of them.
'Yuck. Dirty horse,' bellowed one of the brats and whacked her. The other three joined in. Leila swatted the eldest one with her tail but they only redoubled their attack. Finally the Shark told them to stop and hoisted them on board. They were heavy and the saddle had a hobnail or something poking out of it and into her back. It hurt. Leila tried to let Mark the Shark know by giving a buck. He responded by whacking her on the nose.
'Enough of that. I can see why Hollywood got rid of you.'
Rid of me! Hollywood had begged for her services. Old tinsel-town might have a lot of flaws but it knew how to treat a star. Leila exerted all her willpower to stop giving Mark the Shark a spray right then and there. O'Regan led her off, Leila struggling with the writhing monsters on her back. She looked over at the faded carousel, the flea-bitten Shetlands and the sad clowns with make-up running in the heat. Suddenly she felt like Laura Desmond or whoever that old babe was in that movie classic Sunset Boulevard. Stuck with freaks, forgotten. A tear snuck out of her eye. Please Charlotte, she prayed, get me out of this.
'I have to do something.' Charlotte paced her bedroom, trying to think clearly. It wasn't easy. Every time she tried to come up with a course of action all she could see was poor Leila. Hannah suggested they try to find Miss Strudworth.
'The only person who would know where she's staying is Chadwick, and he's the last person who would help.'
'On all those TV crime shows my mum watches they say you have twenty-four hours to find the missing person before the trail goes cold.'
Charlotte shot her a look and Hannah realised she had been insensitive.
'Sorry, I wasn't thinking.'
'No. You're right. We have to act fast. The good thing is we have tonight and tomorrow off.'
Tomorrow, Sunday, was the one day the girls had no lessons. Normally they just mucked around, having fun with their horses, but that wasn't a choice available to Charlotte right now. She was so frustrated at not being able to think her way through this. She needed somebody who would be objective and think through the problem logically. Hannah was smart but she deferred too much to Charlotte. She needed somebody who would tell her if she was being an idiot ...
Snap. She had the very person.
'Hannah, can I borrow Lightning?'
It was dus
k, the moon just beginning to glow. Charlotte lay along the branch of a white gum tree, still as wood. She had learned to do this growing up in Snake Hills. Sometimes you needed to look out for a stray cow, or to find the dingoes that were raiding the pens. Lightning was tethered about a hundred metres down the ridge in thick scrub, hidden. She checked her watch. Nearly 6.30. Maybe they weren't coming? And then what would she do?
That's when she heard the faint but unmistakable sound of galloping hooves. She checked her supply of pebbles. Nice round ones that would go straight and hit the target. The sound of approaching horses increased. They were maybe fifty metres away, four or five horses and riders. Charlotte angled down and looked back along the track as the first of the party appeared. She was looking for a big black stallion but this one was brown. The rider passed below Charlotte without ever knowing she was above him. A chestnut then another brown horse followed. And then another brown horse. All the riders were intent on what lay directly ahead, not above them. Charlotte's hopes plunged. There was no sign of the black stallion. She would have to look elsewhere for help.
Just as she was about to climb down, she heard the drum of hooves. The black stallion came charging around the bend, obviously in pursuit of those horses that had already passed. His rider sat quietly urging him on. Charlotte yelled but the sound was lost in the horse's rhythmic gallop. No time for the pebbles at the pace they were going.
Which left no alternative. As the rider passed beneath her, Charlotte dropped.
Her arms wrapped around the rider, her momentum toppling them both sideways.
Crunch.
They hit the dirt hard. The rider picked himself up, confused and angry.
'You idiot, what do you think ...' Todd's voice trailed off. 'Charlotte?'
Warrior had stopped just up ahead. Charlotte struggled to her feet.
'Sorry. I yelled but you didn't hear me.'
He softened just a little.
'You could have broken my collarbone. And your own.'
'But I didn't.'
Todd's face cracked into a smile.