The Racehorse Who Learned to Dance

by Clare Balding

  ‘Will you bring Rufus, Mum?’ she called behind her.

  ‘Will do,’ came the reply as her mother locked the horsebox, removed the harness from the golden retriever and set off behind her daughter, who rode down a wide path between the trailers, cars and horseboxes towards a large field.

  ‘As you said, I guess you just get on with it.’ Charlie pointed at a boy who was manoeuvring himself out of a power chair and up into the saddle. He gathered up his reins and rode off. ‘See, he knows he’s a rider who simply needs a bit of help getting on board. Everyone here is a rider, first and foremost.’

  ‘That’s what it is!’ Polly exclaimed suddenly. ‘They’re here because they can ride, not because they can’t run.’

  She held up her hand. Charlie high fived her. They changed into their cream jodhpurs and pulled on clean, shiny brown boots. Charlie helped Polly do up her Pony Club tie. She took a step back to admire her friend.

  ‘You look hot to trot!’ she laughed.

  Charlie held out her arm as Polly climbed on to the portable mounting block they’d brought with them, and held Noble Warrior as Polly manoeuvred herself into the saddle. Charlie checked the girths, double-checked that the stirrup leathers were the right length and patted the gleaming black neck of her Derby winner.

  ‘Now you remember, Noddy, you’re not a racehorse any more. There’s no need to panic or get uptight. It’s dressage, not stress-age.’

  She turned back to the side of the box where Percy was tied up. Or rather, where he had been tied up. There was no sign of the porky Palomino.

  ‘Oh no!’ she exclaimed. ‘Don’t tell me someone’s been daft enough to kidnap Percy. They’ll soon regret it. Where has he gone?’

  Boris ran to the front of the horsebox. He barked and ran back to Charlie before disappearing round the front again. Charlie took the hint and followed him to find Percy with his head through the window of the passenger side, helping himself to the picnic her mother had brought.

  ‘You greedy monster! That’s not your lunch. Come on, get out of there.’

  Charlie pulled at the reins, forcing Percy to bring his head back through the window. He was munching on a cucumber sandwich and was clearly miffed he wouldn’t have a chance to finish the picnic all in one go.

  ‘I see you’ve left the bananas. Had enough of them for one lifetime, have you?’

  Charlie couldn’t be cross with him for long, especially as he was chewing so delicately on his cucumber sandwich. She had to admire his ingenuity. He’d got his head through a narrow gap in the window and forced it wide enough open for him to stretch through and pull the bag closer before carefully opening the zip and removing the items one by one.

  ‘I reckon you were a jewellery thief in another life. If you had fingers rather than hooves, I can only imagine how dangerous you’d be. Now come on, we’ve got a dressage test to supervise.’

  Polly and Charlie rode towards the warm-up area, where they found even more riders practising their routines. They saw the girl from the car park responding to her mother’s directions, working in perfect synchronicity with her horse. They saw the boy encouraging his pony to trot sideways in a half-pass.

  ‘Let’s go over to this end to warm up,’ Charlie said, pointing to the far corner of the field. ‘There’s more space.’

  Charlie watched as Polly walked and trotted Noble Warrior in circles round her. She shouted occasional suggestions, but Polly pretty much had it under control.

  She could see Noddy’s neck becoming rounder and his back end getting more active as his muscles warmed up. Polly moved into canter and encouraged him to stretch and then shorten, changing the length of his stride. They looked magnificent. Polly brought Noddy back through his transitions from canter to trot, and trot to walk, before halting and patting him on the neck.

  ‘He’s lovely and relaxed,’ said Charlie as Polly walked back towards her. ‘You look fantastic together and, whatever happens in the arena, you’ve come such a long way.’

  ‘He’s the one doing all the work,’ replied Polly. ‘I’m just sitting here, telling him what to do. He’s adapted so well and I think he’s enjoying it. He feels so much more confident and he doesn’t even look for Percy the way he once did.’

  Charlie spotted her mother, Boris wagging his tail alongside her. Her dad had arrived with Harry and Larry, sporting matching RDA baseball caps. She had no idea where they had got them. Charlie also saw Polly’s parents on the bank above the warm-up area. They were standing close together and she thought she could see them holding hands.

  ‘Hey, girls! Are you nearly ready?’ Charlie’s mum called out. ‘They’re about to call Class Three, which is you. I’ve checked us in and found the arena so I think we’re all set.’

  ‘Thanks, Mrs Bass,’ said Polly. ‘You’ve been an absolute rock. We wouldn’t have got here without you.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Mrs Bass replied. ‘I reckon you two would have got yourselves exactly where you wanted to be, with or without my help –’

  The tannoy cut across them.

  ‘Class Three starting now in Arena Four. All competitors for Class Three to Arena Four immediately.’

  CHAPTER 17

  As they made their way towards Arena Four, with Percy leading the way, Charlie heard a commotion. She glanced over to see about twenty carriages rumbling towards one of the other arenas. She looked back at Noble Warrior nervously. This was just the sort of thing that would terrify him.

  He pricked his ears and looked in the direction of the carriages.

  Polly spoke to him calmly. ‘It’s all right, boy. No one can hurt you here. They’re off to a competition, just like us. Good boy, that’s the way.’

  From nowhere appeared a slim, upright figure in blue. Miss Cameron was suddenly walking on the left side of Noble Warrior. She didn’t grab at his head or even tug on the rein. She just let her hand rest on it, giving Polly and Noble Warrior reassurance. Charlie gulped.

  ‘Miss Cameron? I had no idea you’d be here.’

  ‘The organizers rang me to check some details,’ she said. ‘You’d put Wilmington RDA as your club so they cross-referenced with me.’

  Charlie was dismayed. She hadn’t told Miss Cameron that she had entered Polly and Noble Warrior. She didn’t want her to think that she had gone behind her back.

  ‘Clever idea, by the way.’ Miss Cameron looked at Charlie and winked. ‘To enter hors concours. That way you can find out what standard you’ve reached, without the pressure of trying to win.’

  Polly started humming the tune to ‘Never Enough’, the most serene song she could think of from The Greatest Showman.

  Noble Warrior dropped his head and seemed to relax as they made their way towards Arena 4. They watched the first couple of competitors ride their tests, which were impressively smooth and accurate. Charlie was nervous on Polly’s behalf. She could feel her heart rate increasing and thought she’d better move away in case Polly could hear it pounding.

  ‘I’ll be right behind the judge’s car at C,’ she told her friend. ‘That’s as close as I’m allowed to be, but at least Noddy will know we’re there. Are you feeling OK?’

  Polly nodded. Her face had gone pale and her lips were pursed in concentration.

  ‘Don’t try to hide Noddy’s failings, just show off his strengths,’ said Miss Cameron. ‘You can do this.’

  Polly winked and said, ‘What failings?’

  ‘Attagirl.’ Miss Cameron smiled.

  Polly sat tall in the saddle and put her shoulders back. She took a deep breath and, when the judge beeped her car horn, she nodded at Harry to start the music. The opening chords of ‘This Is Me’ rang out as she entered at A and trotted up the centre line. She halted at X and Charlie smiled at her as she elegantly dropped her right hand and bowed her head in salute.

  Noble Warrior was loose and lithe, moving like a ballet dancer across the turf as he sprang from walk into trot, circled and crossed the diagonal, moved forward into a bounc
y but relaxed canter. The drumbeats matched his hooves striking the ground and the lyrics summed up everything that Polly had overcome and everything she believed in.

  ‘I make no apologies, this is me!’

  Noble Warrior’s ears flicked backwards and forwards as he listened to Polly’s voice and to the music. His head remained low, his mouth working the bit as he responded to her hands. The music switched to ‘A Million Dreams’ for the slower paces and then to ‘Come Alive’ before switching back for the last section to ‘This Is Me’.

  As Polly came up the centre line for the last time and into her final halt, Charlie realized she had been holding her breath. The crescendo to the last words of the song timed perfectly with Polly’s salute to the judges. Charlie exhaled and sang out loud, ‘This is me!’ as Polly patted Noble Warrior and smiled to every corner of the arena.

  Charlie was sure that the applause from the spectators was louder than for any of the previous competitors and she could hear whooping and whistling. She glanced at the crowd and then quickly back to Noble Warrior to check the noise hadn’t alarmed him. He was on his toes, but there was no danger of him boiling over. Polly was in full control as they walked out of the arena.

  As she trotted over to shower Polly with praise, Charlie noticed a small group of people in blue blazers with red-white-and-blue silk scarves. They were writing into hardback notebooks. She switched her attention back to her friend.

  ‘Wow, wow, wow! That was perfect!’ Charlie couldn’t contain her excitement. ‘That was so much better than anything we’ve done at home or at Wilmington, and if you don’t get a ten for that final halt, there is no justice in this world. Oh my word, it was breathtaking!’

  Polly raised her head and looked up to the skies, her eyes full of tears. She then fell forward and buried her face in Noble Warrior’s mane. Charlie couldn’t hear much of what she said, but made out the words ‘thank you’, ‘legend’ and ‘epic’. Eventually Polly turned her head sideways and Charlie could hear what she was saying. ‘Did you see the mistake I made in the canter? I started it early and then stopped and started again. It was totally my fault, but they’re bound to deduct points for that.’

  ‘Never mind.’ Charlie patted her on the knee. ‘That’s just one tiny mistake. I didn’t even notice! The rest was just brilliant and you looked so confident.’

  Miss Cameron was beaming from ear to ear with a show of emotion Charlie had not seen from her before.

  ‘For a first effort in public, that really was the greatest show.’ She patted Noble Warrior on the neck and smiled at Polly. ‘Congratulations, my dear. You have revealed to the world that this is most certainly you!’

  Soon Polly and Noble Warrior were surrounded by well-wishers. Polly’s mother looked up towards her daughter sitting tall in the saddle.

  ‘It was beautiful. You were magnificent and so was Noble Warrior.’ Mrs Williams sniffed as she spoke.

  ‘As you know, I don’t really understand dressage,’ said Mr Williams. ‘But from what I could see it looked very good, if a little slow for my liking.’

  ‘It’s meant to be slow, Dad! It’s the exact opposite of racing!’

  Miss Cameron slipped away from the throng and Charlie noticed her talking with a grave face to one of the blazer-wearing women she had seen taking notes. Charlie was confused. Had they done something wrong?

  An hour later, once they’d finished what was left of the picnic, they wandered down to the enormous tent in the middle of all the arenas. Around them were dressage classes still in progress, a show-jumping arena and a gymkhana with ponies bending in and out of vertical poles, and kids picking apples out of buckets of water with their teeth.

  ‘There’s a lot going on, isn’t there?’ said Mrs Williams. ‘I had no idea there even was a Riding for the Disabled National Championships.’

  ‘They have all sorts of classes,’ Charlie explained, ‘from those who are just beginning to the really high achievers. They’re the ones who go to the Paralympics.’

  They went into the main marquee where about sixty riders were waiting for their scores to be written on to the white boards that lined the sides. Some of them were in wheelchairs, others on crutches, and all of them were talking about horses.

  ‘Any score above sixty-five per cent would be amazing,’ Charlie said to Mrs Williams. ‘I thought it looked perfect, but I didn’t see all the other tests so I don’t know how we compare. It’s all down to the judges and whether they liked what they saw.’

  ‘Much more complicated than a race, isn’t it?’ said Mr Williams. ‘I like knowing I’ve won as soon as my horse crosses the line. I don’t much fancy waiting for the judge to decide if he liked the way my jockey looked as he was riding a finish!’

  ‘Shh, Dad!’ Polly batted an arm at him. ‘Just because you don’t understand it doesn’t mean you have to mock it.’

  ‘I’m not mocking it, love. I’m just glad my sport is more straightforward. I’m a simple fellow, Polly!’ He gave her a big grin and Polly smiled back.

  Miss Cameron reappeared just as the numbers started to be written on the board. Her posture was perfect – shoulders back, spine straight, legs firm. If it wasn’t for her knobbly finger, thought Charlie, Miss Cameron could be drawn with straight lines. Even her hair didn’t have any kinks or curves.

  Charlie held Polly’s arm as the numbers went up. 60%, 62.4%, 59%, 68.7% and then, next to Noble Warrior’s name – 68.33%.

  ‘Hurray!’ they all cheered together and the woman writing up the scores turned round to give them a stern look. Then she carried on writing, following Noble Warrior’s score with HC. Charlie heard another competitor say ‘Phew!’

  ‘That’s an amazing score for your first ever test!’ Charlie tried to sound calm, but she was too excited.

  ‘There’s bound to be a few better than that,’ Polly replied. ‘After all, I made a mistake!’

  They watched the marks go up for the rest of the class. There were a couple on 69% and then, right at the end, the very last score went up – 73%. It was a rider Charlie knew was on the Paralympic squad.

  ‘You’d have finished fifth!’ Charlie said. ‘That’s incredible. No disgrace in that. The winner got medals in London and Rio. Mind you, if you make a mistake in your test again, I’ll have to sack you!’ she joked.

  ‘That’s what we like to hear. Competitive spirit.’ A woman in a blue blazer had approached them. She was wearing a red-white-and-blue silk scarf and she had a metal pin on the lapel of her blazer. It said PARALYMPICS GB. She thrust out her hand and spoke in a strong, confident voice.

  ‘Marjorie Pearson. You can call me “Mrs P”. Everyone does. Pleased to meet you, Polly.’

  Polly shook her hand, trying to mask a look of confusion.

  ‘Cecilia Cameron has told me she thinks you are a real talent. You have potential, she says, and when Miss Cameron tells us that about a rider, I have to tell you – we listen.’

  ‘She has been really helpful,’ Charlie said.

  ‘And you are?’ Mrs P looked at Charlie.

  ‘This is Charlie Bass.’ Polly said. ‘She’s my fr– um, she’s my team captain. As I’m sure you know, we all need a team around us to make this happen.’

  Polly gestured at everyone in the tent who was there to support their riders – parents, friends, RDA volunteers, guide dogs. None of the competitors were alone.

  ‘Excellent,’ said Marjorie Pearson. ‘All the best riders have a captain of the ship. This one’s a bit younger than most, but she’s clearly done a good job. Now I need to have a little chat with you and your parents, if that’s possible.’

  ‘They’re just here.’ Polly called her mum and dad over.

  ‘Good. Excellent. Well, gather round, team, I have news and I have questions.’ Marjorie Pearson was clearly used to addressing large numbers. ‘Questions first. I need to know whether any of you eat sushi?’

  Charlie looked at Polly, who looked at her parents, who looked at Mr and Mrs Bass, who looked
at Harry and Larry, who looked at Miss Cameron. What was this woman going on about?

  ‘No? Ah well, never mind. I’m from the Podium Potential Programme. Mrs P from the PPP. Ha ha! Add another P for Paralympics and it trips off the tongue rather, doesn’t it?’

  Charlie noticed that Mrs P said ‘orf’ rather than ‘off’ and that she pronounced potential in a very strange manner.

  ‘Anyway, my job is to spot po-ten-shee-al for the Paralympics and you, my dear, you def-i-nite-lee have po-ten-shee-al. What say you let us sign you up for our programme?’

  Polly didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Can I ask what it entails?’ Charlie stepped in as her friend had momentarily lost the ability to speak.

  ‘Well, for one thing, we will pay all the costs of her lessons with a specially selected coach, and cover any veterinary bills, any equipment costs, any travel expenses. In fact, we will do everything in our power to make sure that Polly and that gorgeous horse can be in a position to compete in a future Paralympic Games, if she shows the right commitment and improvement and is selected for the British team.’

  Polly’s mother started to wobble and had to be supported by Alex Williams. Harry and Larry were nudging each other in amazement. Even Miss Cameron looked a little surprised.

  ‘We would like to take you to Tokyo on a fact-finding mission,’ continued Mrs P. ‘We do it with the youngsters we think will benefit from seeing how it all works. I know you are a fan of The Greatest Showman so you will appreciate that it is a bit like a large travelling circus. We have to make sure every member of the team feels confident and prepared to the very highest level so that they can perform in the big ring.’

  Charlie was trying to compute all of the information Mrs Pearson was sharing. She’d had an instinct that riders could be spotted at a very young age – Sophie Christiansen had won a gold medal at only sixteen – but it still felt unreal.