The Racehorse Who Learned to Dance

by Clare Balding

  Charlie moved to her side. ‘That was interesting, wasn’t it?’ she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I wrote down lots of notes.’

  ‘Me too,’ Polly said, packing her books into her bag and avoiding Charlie’s eye.

  ‘Polly – I …’ Charlie steeled herself. It was worth a shot. ‘I wondered if you’d be interested in … giving advice?’ Polly looked at her, eyes narrow. ‘To me, to help me make it on to the netball team? Like you do with Noddy.’

  ‘What sort of advice?’ Polly asked.

  ‘Everything, really. I’m scared. I don’t know if I’m good enough and I certainly don’t know if I can fit in. I don’t like Nadia, for one thing, and I don’t think I want to be on a team with girls like her.’

  Polly didn’t reply.

  ‘You know that schedule you drew up for Noddy?’ Charlie said. ‘It was really useful and it’s helped us plan a steady programme for him so that he’s got much stronger over the summer. He’s also way more confident, not spooking at every noise or shadow. It would be a bit like that, but with … more …’

  Charlie smiled at Polly, trying to encourage the character she knew and loved to show her face again.

  Finally Polly spoke. ‘I guess it might be helpful to have someone watching from the sidelines, analysing training and that sort of thing.’ Charlie spotted a gleam in her eye and had to stop herself throwing her arms round her friend. ‘I could even build a programme on the computer to break down the numbers,’ Polly went on. ‘Work out whether there’s something simple you can do that would make you invaluable to the team or whether it’s more complicated than that.’

  ‘Coursework for Doctor Patterson!’ Charlie joked. ‘Oh, and by the way,’ she added, ‘I’ve got an idea for how we get Noddy to your lesson without our parents knowing.’

  ‘Oh?’ Polly said.

  ‘Mrs Wheeler can drive the horsebox.’

  ‘Mrs Wheeler?’

  ‘She drives the school bus,’ Charlie explained. ‘She reckons driving a horsebox would be much easier – and she’s sound. She wouldn’t rat on us.’

  They walked out of the classroom together and Charlie felt her heart rate returning to normal for the first time since their argument in the corridor. She put a hand out, silently offering to carry Polly’s bag.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Polly gratefully.

  That afternoon, Charlie joined the first team for netball practice, taken by Mrs Kennedy, who was also the headmistress. Polly came along to watch, sitting on a bench at the side of the indoor sports hall.

  ‘Hey, Polly!’ Mrs Kennedy called out. ‘Good to have you with us.’

  ‘What’s she doing here?’ Nadia hissed at Charlie as she barged past her. ‘She can’t play netball!’

  ‘Give her a break,’ said Flora Walsh. ‘She’s not causing any trouble.’

  Charlie said nothing and tried to concentrate on the training drills. There were plastic markers on the floor of the wooden court. The girls each had to sprint from the wall to the second marker, about ten metres away, jump as high as they could, then run sideways for four steps and back for four, then turn and sprint to the wall again.

  ‘That’s it, Charlie! Keep those knees nice and bouncy,’ shouted Mrs Kennedy.

  Every time Charlie turned to go back to her starting position, Nadia was there, blocking her path. She either had to swerve abruptly or crash into her.

  ‘Watch out, clumsy! Can’t you see where you’re going?’ Nadia shouted loudly enough for Mrs Kennedy and the rest of the team to hear.

  ‘You’ve got to keep your wits about you,’ Helen Danson said to Charlie as they gathered to do the next drill. ‘Always be aware of where the other players are.’

  ‘But it’s not my fault!’ Charlie tried to argue.

  ‘Doesn’t matter.’ Helen wasn’t interested in excuses. ‘You’ll be the one to get penalized on the court if you run into the opposition. Nadia’s only trying to help you.’

  Charlie shook her head. It felt so unfair.

  Mrs Kennedy placed a ladder on the floor and asked Flora Walsh to demonstrate the next drill. Flora smoothed down her skirt and glided forward. She hopped from one foot to the next, together then apart, running from one ladder square to the next without touching the bars. She was moving so fast that Charlie only saw a blur of dancing feet.

  ‘So, first foot into the space, second foot in and then take off again into the next space. Got it?’ said Mrs Kennedy, taking a watch out of her pocket. ‘Fast as you can.’

  Charlie glanced over to Polly with fear in her eyes. Polly nodded her encouragement and gestured with her hands as if suggesting a trotting movement. That’s it, thought Charlie. It’s like Noble Warrior learning to lift his knees in trot.

  Mrs Kennedy blew her whistle and timed every girl in the ladder drill. They had seconds added if they hit the ladder bars. Flora Walsh went first and sprinted over the ladder, touched the wall at the far end and came back even faster, not even close to touching the rungs. Helen Danson went next and, although she was quick, she hit at least two bars.

  ‘Right, Charlie. Your turn,’ said Mrs Kennedy.

  Charlie stood rooted to the spot. She couldn’t move forward or back. She was frozen.

  ‘Come on, we haven’t got all day,’ snarled Nadia behind her.

  ‘Told you she didn’t have the bottle,’ Helen Danson said to Flora.

  Charlie heard Mrs Kennedy blow her whistle, but still she couldn’t move.

  ‘They’re off!’ she heard Polly shout from the sidelines, and somehow that triggered a thought in her head. She had a flashback to Derby Day when the stalls opened and she knew she had to ride Percy for all she was worth across the middle of Epsom Racecourse to the winning post to get there before Noble Warrior.

  ‘Kick on!’ Polly shouted again.

  Charlie took off and ran as fast as she could, her feet landing in the first ladder box together and then springing into the next. She finished the first section cleanly, ran to the wall to touch it and sprint back. As she came back along the ladder she looked up with two sections to go. Nadia was standing way too close to the last box. She was going to crash into her. She hesitated for a split second and lost her concentration. Charlie’s foot caught the second last bar and she went tumbling to the floor.

  Mrs Kennedy rushed over.

  ‘Are you all right, Charlie? That was a nasty fall. Such a shame, as you were really flying there.’

  Charlie sat up, dazed and embarrassed. Her knee was throbbing and she felt dizzy.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Honestly, right as rain. Just a silly mistake. I took my eyes off where I was putting my feet. Stupid, really.’

  She gritted her teeth and pushed herself to her feet, trying to disguise the pain in her knee. Nadia smiled thinly at her and offered an arm for support.

  ‘No, thanks, I’m fine.’ Charlie waved her away.

  She saw Flora looking concerned and overheard Helen saying, ‘Are you sure she’s up to this? It’s not fair if she’s not ready.’

  Charlie smiled as brightly as she could and tried to ignore the throbbing pain in her knee.

  ‘Nadia, you’re next,’ said Mrs Kennedy. ‘And Charlie, why don’t you go and sit on the bench with Polly for a few minutes.’

  ‘You can compare notes,’ Nadia snarled as Charlie held her head high and tried not to limp. She flopped down on to the bench next to Polly.

  ‘Hard work?’ asked Polly.

  ‘I’ve never tried so hard in my life. Now I know what Noddy must feel like!’

  Charlie rubbed her knee, which was already red and swollen. They watched Nadia complete the ladder challenge, nowhere near as fast as Charlie, but without mistakes or a fall.

  Polly rubbed her friend on the back to comfort her.

  ‘I think you probably know how I feel as well,’ she said. ‘It’s not much fun when you can’t join in.’

  In the meantime, at Mrs Kennedy’s request, one
of the players had brought some ice for Charlie’s knee. As she sat there nursing her injury, the pain gradually started to subside.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ asked Polly, who was taking notes on the remainder of the training session.

  ‘I’m wondering how you get over it,’ Charlie replied.

  ‘You don’t,’ said Polly. ‘You just get on with it. That’s the key. Just grin and get on with it.’

  The training session ended and the netball team dispersed. Mrs Kennedy came to check on Charlie’s knee.

  ‘That’s a relief. The swelling’s coming down already. I don’t think you’ll have done any serious damage, but if it’s still sore tomorrow, make sure you see the nurse.’

  Flora waved at Polly and Charlie as the team left the court. ‘Come again if you fancy it, Polly. We could do with all the support we can get!’

  ‘See?’ Charlie said to her friend. ‘They want you back more than me, and they don’t even know that you’ve been taking notes.’

  Polly crossed her hands protectively over her notebook. Charlie put her right hand gently on top.

  ‘Come on. Show me. I know how good you are at seeing what others can’t.’

  Polly opened her notepad for Charlie to look at. She had written five headings with notes scribbled under each.

  Movement

  Communication

  Anticipation

  Concentration

  Confidence

  ‘You’ve got to show this to Flora,’ Charlie begged her.

  ‘I can’t do that!’ Polly snapped the notebook shut.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘She thinks I’m just a supporter. A cheerleader who can’t actually do any cheerleading!’ Polly smiled grimly at her own joke.

  ‘She doesn’t know what I know,’ Charlie said, determined that Polly’s talents shouldn’t go to waste.

  CHAPTER 7

  When Mrs Williams dropped Polly off at Folly Farm on the following Saturday, she stopped for a chat in the kitchen. Charlie and Polly paused by the door to listen.

  ‘Honestly,’ Mrs Williams told Mrs Bass, ‘I don’t know how your Charlie is doing it, but I hear they’ve developed a new exercise for Polly’s posture and I have to say it’s working wonders!’

  ‘Well, yes, the thing is, I should probably tell you –’

  Charlie pushed through the door before she could finish. ‘Mrs Williams,’ she said quickly, ‘have you heard that Polly came to watch netball training?’

  ‘Did she now?’ Mrs Williams raised her eyebrows and smiled. ‘That might explain why she was on the computer last night reading about how the England netball team won the Commonwealth gold medal in Australia! She’s very taken with the idea of “funetherness” – whatever that means!’

  ‘It’s a combination of fun and togetherness,’ Polly explained as she followed her friend into the kitchen. ‘It’s the mantra of England Netball.’

  ‘Well! That sounds excellent.’ Mrs Williams looked down to see Boris banging his tail on the floor in support. ‘How’s your knee, by the way? Polly told me you had a nasty fall in training.’

  ‘Did you?’ Mrs Bass looked surprised.

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ Charlie replied. ‘It was nothing. It’s fine now.’

  ‘You’re a tough one, you are,’ said Mrs Williams. ‘I was just telling your mother how much Polly’s fitness is improving – isn’t it, sweetheart? You’re definitely getting stronger. I hope this term at school will be a bit easier.’ Mrs Williams smiled, mainly at Boris, and shrugged her shoulders. ‘One day at a time, I guess.’

  Charlie realized that every time she had seen Polly’s mother over the last year, her face had been locked in tension. Now it seemed a tiny bit more relaxed.

  ‘Would it be all right if Polly kept coming here at weekends?’ Mrs Williams directed her question at both Charlie and Mrs Bass. Polly nodded vigorously. ‘She’s always so upbeat when I collect her and I think it’s doing her the world of good. Alex is busy at the races on Saturdays and Sundays and he’s particularly keen that she should have time away from the racehorses.’

  ‘Obviously Noble Warrior is a racehorse,’ said Charlie’s mother, ‘and you should know that –’

  Polly jumped in. ‘Ah, but he’s a retired racehorse and he’s completely different now he’s not being trained to gallop flat out. We’ve been teaching him dressage and it’s great for his muscle development,’ she went on breathlessly.

  ‘As for Polly,’ Charlie added, we’re working hard on her core strength, Mrs Williams, and we wondered if it would be OK if we went to see an instructor who specializes in working with people recovering from injury and living with a diffability?’

  Charlie glanced briefly at her mother, whose left eyebrow had shot towards the ceiling.

  ‘A diffability?’ said Mrs Williams. ‘Is that from the same dictionary as funetherness?’

  ‘It could be!’ said Charlie. ‘It just means that you have to approach life differently. This instructor isn’t far away and she encourages all sorts of exercise and alternative therapy,’ she continued, eager for a reply.

  Mrs Williams looked at Polly, who gave her a thumbs up.

  ‘There’s a session free on Wednesday,’ Polly said. ‘That way I can go straight from school.’

  Charlie’s mother pursed her lips but said nothing.

  ‘Oh, Wednesday evenings are no good, I’m afraid.’ Mrs Williams was looking at the diary on her mobile phone. ‘I won’t be around to do the lifts.’

  ‘That’s not a problem,’ Charlie said quickly. ‘Mrs Wheeler has said she can take us.’

  Caroline Bass looked at her daughter with her eyebrow still raised. ‘Has she?’

  ‘Yes,’ Charlie said firmly. ‘We’ve done all the research, Mum, and it’s a fabulous place. Miss Cameron has got all the right endorsements. Honestly, it will be brilliant.’

  ‘Also, it means I can still work on my fitness while I help out the netball team with theirs,’ Polly added.

  Mrs Bass looked from Charlie to Mrs Williams, who was smiling broadly.

  ‘She’s such a star, young Charlie, and they make such a good team. They’re real planners and they’ve got a solution for everything, haven’t they?’ Mrs Williams laughed, perhaps a little nervously. ‘Diffability.’ She rolled the word around on her tongue as if trying it for size. ‘Diffability. I like it.’

  She enveloped Charlie in a hug and whispered, ‘Thank you,’ into the top of her head.

  Charlie was thrilled. She needed Mrs Williams to have complete trust in her. Polly gave Charlie a high five as they turned together to head out of the kitchen.

  ‘Charlie does have a good track record of building up confidence,’ said Mrs Bass. ‘But I think it’s a bit different with a person rather than a horse!’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Mrs Williams put her phone back into her bag. ‘I think people can sometimes be more straightforward. At least they can tell you how they feel and have a proper discussion!’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Mrs Bass, glancing back at Charlie. ‘As long as they tell you the truth.’

  Charlie gave her mother a grin as she and Polly headed for the stairs. They threw themselves on to the bed to discuss the details.

  ‘We have to go for an assessment and then Miss Cameron will decide whether to take you on,’ Charlie said. ‘I’ll talk to Mrs Wheeler about logistics. We’re the last drop on the school run so she could leave the bus here and then take us in the horsebox with Noddy and Percy.’

  ‘How on earth is that going to work?’ asked Polly. ‘Your dad may have eyes only for the cows but I think even he might notice a big bus parked in his farmyard.’

  The girls heard the sound of a departing car as Polly’s mother headed home. They were still trying to work out how they could get Noble Warrior and Percy out of the yard, into the horsebox and away for the lesson, when they heard footsteps on the stairs. Charlie stopped talking and Polly’s eyes widened at the firm knock on the door.

  ‘May
I come in?’ Mrs Bass asked politely.

  ‘Sure thing, Mum,’ Charlie answered breezily. ‘We were just discussing netball drills and how to improve my footwork.’

  ‘Were you?’ Mrs Bass was not smiling. ‘I wondered if you two wanted to discuss anything with me?’

  Charlie looked at the floor. ‘Don’t think so,’ she mumbled.

  ‘Really?’ Mrs Bass answered. ‘Well, good luck with that lesson on Wednesday.’

  Charlie chewed the inside of her right cheek. Polly blushed. Mrs Bass waited. Neither of the girls said a word.

  Mrs Bass held up her hand.

  ‘I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you two have a think about it, chat it through with each other and maybe this evening after your dressage training and your ride back to the stables, you might want to have a full and frank discussion about … everything.’

  Mrs Bass turned on her heel and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Polly’s eyes were as wide as saucers. Charlie blew out a deep breath.

  ‘She knows!’ Polly said slowly.

  Charlie swallowed hard. Her mother always had a knack of knowing what she was up to, what she was thinking and planning. But if she knew, why hadn’t she stopped them?

  Charlie thought about the new security camera on the side of the chicken shed and the reflected light she kept seeing when she looked up at the house. Maybe her mother had been on to them for a while.

  ‘Tell you what, let’s find out.’ Charlie got off the bed and walked to her window. It had been raining on and off since they’d gone back to school, but today was blessedly a bright, warm day. The leaves were just starting to turn from their summer green to the autumn shades of burgundy and ruby, and in a few weeks, they would start falling from the trees.

  Charlie had noticed a ring-shaped mark on the window ledge a few days before, but couldn’t work out where it had come from. Maybe she’d left a cup of tea there and it had made a stain. Now, Charlie went to her dressing table and took out some talcum powder.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Polly asked.