The Racehorse Who Learned to Dance

by Clare Balding

  On the screen was another dressage test. The arena in Greenwich looked the same and the purple banners said ‘London 2012’. The rider raised an arm to signal for the music to start.

  ‘Wow, what a beautiful horse,’ Polly said as they watched the woman and her horse enter the arena. Then she noticed something.

  ‘She hasn’t got any stirrups,’ she said, pointing to the screen. ‘Why would you make it even harder for yourself like that?’

  They watched the rider ask her horse to move forward into canter. The stunning jet-black animal kept his neck arched and smoothly changed his stride into an even, rhythmic canter. His tail flowed out behind him as the rider sat tall and proud. Polly was mesmerized.

  After a minute, Charlie spoke. ‘She can’t walk.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Polly retorted. ‘You can’t ride like that if you can’t use your legs.’

  ‘Look carefully – she’s talking to her horse. She uses verbal commands and if you look at her bottom, that’s where all the strength is coming from.’

  Polly shook her head in disbelief.

  ‘I looked it up,’ Charlie continued. ‘She’s called Natasha Baker and the horse is Cabral. When she was only fourteen months old she got a virus called transverse my-ah …’ She paused and looked at something she had written in her notebook. ‘Myalye-tiss, that’s it. Transverse myelitis. It’s known as TM. It’s a neurological condition so it comes from the brain, but it affects the spinal cord and makes it swell up.’

  Polly couldn’t take her eyes off the screen as she watched Natasha and Cabral do the most extravagant extended trot diagonally across the arena.

  ‘She had permanent nerve damage and it means she can’t feel anything in her legs. Her balance is affected as well.’

  ‘You wouldn’t think it watching this,’ said Larry.

  ‘I know,’ replied Charlie, who had really done her homework. ‘That’s why I wanted you to see it. Her website says she went to Riding for the Disabled when she was nine years old – her physio had recommended it – and now she’s won five gold medals at two Paralympic Games.’

  Polly’s eyes widened like a kitten spotting a toy.

  ‘That’s incredible.’ Her voice sounded croaky.

  Charlie touched her arm. ‘You see? You can still do anything,’ she said quietly. ‘You might have to do it differently, but it doesn’t mean it can’t be done.’

  Polly bit her bottom lip and stared at the screen. The boys leaped up and headed outside. They’d been sitting down chatting pleasantly for at least twenty minutes, which was a new personal best. It must now be time for a fight.

  ‘Shall we go out and see the horses?’ Charlie asked.

  Polly nodded. She picked up her crutch, pushed herself from the chair and went out into the farmyard. They discussed dressage movements and how they dated back to the time of the Ancient Greeks, who valued horsemanship as a skill. The Greeks thought it could be useful to have a horse who would rear on command or could spin round in a tiny space and gallop off in the opposite direction. They talked about the Spanish Riding School in Vienna, which had taken the idea of equine performance to a whole new level in the sixteenth century and the Cadre Noir, the group of officers in the French cavalry who were famed for their riding ability.

  The girls were lost in a world of horsey dreams, sharing their appreciation of skilled riding and their understanding of good training. Since Polly’s accident, Charlie had been very careful not to talk about horses too much because she didn’t want her friend to feel sad about the thing she had loved and seemed to have lost. This felt new and exciting.

  ‘I think we need to write up a training schedule,’ Polly said. ‘My physio did one for me but I ripped it up.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I wasn’t hitting the targets on the dates I was meant to and it just made me dep–’ Polly broke off mid-word. ‘It made me annoyed. So I ripped it up into tiny pieces and threw it in the bin.’

  Charlie looked at her friend in shock. This didn’t sound like the Polly she knew. She realized Polly might be dealing with things she had no idea about. Things that Polly had hidden from her.

  They reached the gate to the field. Charlie whistled loudly and watched as Percy raised his head and looked at them. She waved a carrot in the air. That did the trick and Percy started lumbering towards them, Noble Warrior following elegantly behind.

  She gave Percy the carrot, which was a little disappointing for him, as he would have preferred a packet of mints, twenty cubes of sugar and a few apples. The only thing he had gone off in the last year or so was bananas, after the kidnappers had used them to poison him when they grabbed Noble Warrior from under his nose.

  Charlie put a headcollar on Noble Warrior and led him towards the barn so that she could groom him. Percy followed.

  Boris trotted ahead of them, raising one hind leg and hopping along on three legs.

  ‘Is he doing that to make me feel better?’ Polly laughed.

  ‘No,’ Charlie said. ‘He’s always done it. I think it’s a Border terrier thing. He’s not self-conscious about it, that’s for sure.’

  Polly found she could brush Noble Warrior without her crutch. She used her left hand to balance herself on his body and the other to brush energetically with long smooth strokes. Soon his coat started to gleam and his mane and tail flowed straight and soft.

  ‘He’ll feel better already,’ said Polly as she stood back to admire her work. ‘I know I only started to feel human again when I got home from the hospital and was allowed to have a shower. The relief of being clean all over!’

  Charlie held two sets of racing girths in her hands. She buckled one to the other so that they could stretch right round Noble Warrior’s tummy. She had wound together more baler twine to make two reins, which she looped through the girth and doubled back to the bit rings on his bridle.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Polly asked.

  ‘I’m making draw reins. They’ll help keep his head down low so that when we work him he’s arching his neck and he’s really using his back. I’m not going to do them very tight because I don’t want him to feel restricted, but I saw it on a Carl Hester dressage masterclass and I think it’ll help Noddy build the muscles he needs in his neck and across his back.’

  Charlie led Noble Warrior into the field and over to the home-made arena and started to lunge him round her. Polly had asked Charlie’s brothers to drag a couple of straw bales to the edge of the arena so that she could sit comfortably and watch. They had built a big straw sofa with two bales as a back support and one bale at the front to sit on.

  ‘Is that OK?’ Larry asked, placing a rug over the straw so that it wasn’t so prickly.

  ‘That’s great. Thanks so much.’ Polly smiled at him. ‘Could you do me a big favour?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Could you bring me a pad and a pencil? I need to start working up a schedule so that we can give him a gradual programme over the next six months.’

  Larry ran towards the house and was back again within minutes.

  ‘Could you make it a bit sooner than that?’ he asked as he thrust the pad at Polly.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s just that the supermarket opening is in October and it would really help us if he was looking, you know, a bit more like a horse who might once have been capable of winning the Derby!’

  Polly bit her lip. ‘You know your sister’s really not happy about the supermarket idea.’

  ‘Yeah. I know she won’t listen to us. But …’ He paused. ‘She might listen to you …’

  Charlie was oblivious to everything but the movement of the horse around her. Having walked Noble Warrior for ten minutes in each direction, she decided it was time for a change of gear.

  She clicked her tongue to ask him to move forward into trot. He rounded his neck and she could see the power coming through from his back end. Soon he was glistening with sweat as she worked him on both reins.

  ‘That�
��s a good boy.’ She kept encouraging him to keep up the energy. ‘It’s all about power, not pace.’

  Finally, she asked him to move forward into canter.

  ‘Wow!’ Polly shouted from the edge of the arena. ‘Look at him move. He’s so well balanced and he looks to have a lovely comfortable motion. I bet he’d feel like a rocking horse to ride.’

  Charlie eased Noble Warrior back to a walk and undid the draw reins. She let him lower his head and stretch out, walking in a larger circle so that he could really loosen up. He was blowing with the effort and his skin was dark with sweat.

  ‘That’ll do for day two, I think,’ she said.

  Polly heaved herself up from the straw bales and leaned on her crutch for support. She held her pad in the other hand.

  ‘That’s plenty and, to be honest, I wouldn’t do more than that until at least week three,’ she said. ‘I’ve made a chart here and I reckon you’ll have him looking sleek and toned by the end of September.’

  Charlie smiled. ‘This is fun. I like the idea of having a goal for him and I think he’s enjoying it too.’ She patted Noddy’s warm neck. ‘Fancy a lift back? It’ll be a bit warm up there, but you’ve got trousers on so it won’t feel too sweaty.’

  This time Polly didn’t hesitate. She used the straw sofa she’d been sitting on, climbing on to the top of it to get herself level with the horse’s back.

  Charlie looked towards the farmhouse to check no one was watching. She could see the boys collecting eggs, and above that she thought she saw a shadow pass across her bedroom window.

  ‘Good boy.’ Polly heaved herself into position and patted Noble Warrior’s neck. Then Charlie led him away from the dressage arena back towards the stables. She could hear Polly quietly singing to herself.

  Suddenly, a loud bang caused the chickens to squawk and scatter. Even Percy lifted his head in surprise and came trotting towards them. Noble Warrior immediately tensed up. His tail lifted into the air and he started to prance.

  Polly gasped.

  ‘It’s OK, Noddy,’ Charlie tried to keep her voice calm, but Noble Warrior’s eyes were popping out of his head. ‘It was just the tractor dropping something near the milking shed. There we go, it’s all OK, no need to panic.’

  She glanced back at Polly, who was wincing in pain.

  ‘I can’t keep myself in the middle of his back!’ There was desperation in her voice.

  Charlie tried to grab her leg to help her stay in position, but it was too late. Polly started sliding to the right. She didn’t have the power in her left side to keep herself up. Charlie switched sides, but wasn’t in time – and as Polly fell into a crumpled heap, Noble Warrior stopped prancing. He stood still and looked round at her.

  Charlie helped Polly to her feet, her heart thumping.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I feel such an idiot. That all happened in slow motion and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. It’s just so stupid.’ Polly hit her left leg with her right hand. ‘It’s all your fault. Useless leg. Useless!’

  Charlie put a comforting arm round her shoulder. ‘I know. I know how you feel.’

  Polly glared at her. ‘How? How do you know? You have no idea!’

  She sat down again and hit the ground. Noble Warrior took two steps backwards and placed his head in Polly’s lap. He nudged her gently in the chest, forcing her to look at him.

  Charlie knew that Noble Warrior was a sensitive soul and he would never intentionally hurt anyone. He only behaved badly when he was scared.

  ‘I suppose you’re trying to tell me to get back on, aren’t you?’ Polly said to the horse.

  Charlie said nothing and watched as Noddy nudged her again, very gently. She could see her friend silently mouthing numbers. She was counting to ten.

  ‘OK. You win. Charlie, will you help me back on him?’

  ‘Are you girls all right?’ Charlie heard her mother’s voice calling to them.

  ‘Quick!’ she said. ‘Let’s get you up on your feet. Here, lean on him for support.’

  She helped Polly to her feet and encouraged her to rest on Noddy’s shoulder.

  ‘Yes, Mum, we’re fine,’ Charlie called back.

  Caroline Bass appeared, walking purposefully towards them. Charlie hoped she hadn’t seen what had just happened.

  ‘I was just checking Noddy didn’t get scared. Dad was unloading the extra feed for the cows and he made a right racket. Was he OK?’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Bass, he was fine,’ Polly answered quickly. ‘He’s so much less jumpy these days. I really think he’s grown up.’

  ‘Hmm. Has he?’ Mrs Bass looked at both of the girls and at the horse between them, and raised her left eyebrow. ‘Are you sure it’s wise to be walking without your crutch, Polly?’

  Charlie bit her lip. Her mother always seemed to know when something was up.

  ‘Oh, silly me, I left it by the arena,’ Polly replied calmly. ‘I was leaning against Noddy instead. He’s far better than a crutch!’

  ‘Were you indeed? Well, you just be careful because if I return you to your mother in a worse state than she brought you in, I don’t think she’ll be letting you come and stay again.’

  Polly laughed lightly. ‘Oh, Mrs Bass, don’t you worry. I’m getting stronger every day.’

  ‘Well, that’s very good to hear. Now why don’t you and Charlie make your way steadily back to the stables and I’ll just grab your crutch and meet you there.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ said Charlie.

  Mr Williams came to pick up his daughter the next day.

  ‘Hi, Charlie. How’s Noble Warrior coming along?’ he asked. ‘I hope you’re keeping him busy. You can’t let racehorses do nothing at all. It’s not what they’re bred for.’

  ‘Oh, he’s great, Mr Williams. Polly and I have devised a training schedule for him. We’re using dressage to get him fit and he’s really taken to it.’ She didn’t mention the supermarket. The more she thought about it, the more she cringed at the thought of Noddy prancing up and down the aisles.

  Mr Williams smiled at Polly. ‘Are you helping out, love? That’s great news. It’ll do you both the world of good.’

  Polly beamed at her father. ‘It’s helping Noddy out of his depression,’ she said. ‘It’s already making a difference, I think.’

  Mr Williams smiled, taking Polly’s crutch as she got into the car. Charlie went to the passenger door to talk to her about when she could next come and stay. As they said goodbye, she saw Mr Williams give her mother a small leather bag – probably a present to say thank you.

  She waved as the Williamses’ car pulled away, already excited about the next time she would see her friend.

  CHAPTER 5

  Over the rest of the summer holidays, Polly came to stay at Folly Farm as often as she could. She and Charlie worked on Noble Warrior’s paces and his rhythm, and Larry devised a soundtrack that would give him a different beat every few minutes. Every time they finished a training session, Polly clambered on Noddy’s back to ride him homewards to the stables.

  What with all the training for Noble Warrior, Charlie found herself feeling fitter and stronger. She was sure she’d had a bit of a growth spurt too – her jodhpurs were coming up short above her ankles, and when she’d gone shopping with her mother for a new pair, Mrs Bass had noticed the change.

  ‘I’ll bet you’re almost tall enough for the basketball team now!’ she said, putting an arm round Charlie’s shoulder as they exited the shop.

  Charlie rolled her eyes. ‘Netball team, Mum!’

  ‘Oh yes, darling,’ said her mother. ‘I’m thinking of the book I’m editing – it’s all about women’s sport at the Olympics. Netball’s not even an Olympic sport, you know! But I bet you’ll be a perfect fit for your school team this term.’

  Charlie sighed. Her mother might think she was ready, but Flora Walsh, the captain of the first netball team, had overlooked Charlie for the last year. The popular netball girls were hardly going to notice she’d g
ained a couple of inches and sign her right up. She shook her head. She shouldn’t care about that. The most important thing was to focus on her equestrian efforts and get it right for Noble Warrior and Polly.

  ‘How’s Noddy’s training going, girls?’ Mrs Bass asked one evening as they sat round the kitchen table for supper.

  ‘Wonderful, thank you,’ replied Polly.

  ‘What have you been up to?’ said Mrs Bass with her head on one side.

  ‘Oh, you know. This and that,’ Charlie jumped in. ‘Getting Noddy fit. Polly’s written up a brilliant schedule and it’s working. He’s starting to look toned and athletic again.’

  ‘That’s good news.’ Larry winked at Polly. ‘You’ve done that in double-quick time.’

  ‘And what about you, Polly?’ Charlie’s father asked. ‘How are you doing, fitness-wise?’

  ‘We’ve been working on Polly too, Dad,’ said Charlie quickly. ‘Her movement and her strength are so much better, aren’t they, Pol?’ Charlie noticed that her mother had raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Sure are. I’m a medical miracle!’ Polly said.

  ‘And what do you think has been the key to that?’ Charlie’s mother asked slowly.

  ‘Extreme Pilates,’ said Polly firmly.

  ‘That’s what you call it, is it?’ Mrs Bass looked from Charlie to Polly and back again, her eyebrow still hovering towards her hairline. ‘Well, just be careful. I wouldn’t want Polly’s mother to get the wrong idea and stop her from coming to stay.’

  ‘Understood!’ said Charlie.

  The girls left the table and disappeared to the sitting room. Someone had set up YouTube on the TV and there was a documentary ready to watch. It was about disabled horse riders, and on the screen as they entered the room was a man who had lost two limbs after being struck by lightning.

  ‘This is amazing,’ Polly said. ‘He’s perfectly balanced with one arm and leg.’ She watched him cross the diagonal of the dressage arena in extended trot and shook her head in disbelief. ‘Incredible. I wish I could do that.’

  They looked at the adjusted tack some of the riders used. One had a loop at the front of the saddle so that she could grip with her hand if she needed extra support. Another had thick knee rolls to help keep the legs in place and a higher cantle to add support to the back.