The Racehorse Who Learned to Dance

by Clare Balding

  Mrs Pearson was waiting for an answer.

  ‘What say you?’ She honked the question like a goose.

  ‘What say they? Well, they’d be darned idiots to say anything other than hai onegaishimasu and arigatou.’ Miss Cameron finally spoke.

  ‘What?’ said Charlie and Polly together.

  ‘It’s Japanese for yes please and thank you.’

  ‘You speak Japanese?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘I spent a summer at the Kaminokawa Horse Park, helping them to establish their own Riding for the Disabled programme. They are exceptional in their attention to detail and I think the Paralympics in Tokyo could be the best-organized games ever.’

  Charlie shook her head. She never ceased to be impressed by the experiences people had that took them out of their ordinary lives. There was clearly even more to Miss Cameron than met the eye.

  ‘Can Miss Cameron be our coach?’ Charlie asked.

  Mrs P hesitated. ‘Miss Cameron is certainly very highly regarded by the PPP. She has all the necessary coaching qualifications, and although she is not currently on our list of Paralympics GB coaches … I do not see why not.’ Mrs P addressed Miss Cameron directly. ‘Would you be prepared to take Polly on as a project?’

  Charlie and Polly both looked at Miss Cameron. She bowed her head.

  ‘Is that a yes, Miss Cameron?’ Polly asked.

  Cecilia Cameron ran her hand along the side of her slicked-back hair.

  ‘I would be honoured to be your coach,’ she said.

  Polly threw her arms round Miss Cameron. Both her parents and Charlie’s parents joined in the group hug and Harry gave Larry a high five before picking up Boris to kiss him on the nose.

  CHAPTER 18

  The next day, Larry uploaded the photos from the National Championships and wrote an update to The Racehorse Who Learned to Dance. He added a video of part of Polly’s freestyle routine, and within five hours it had had 200,000 views. Noble Warrior and Polly were going viral. Charlie warned him not to mention the Paralympic Podium Potential Programme. Polly didn’t want to be subjected to unnecessary stress.

  Noddy was enjoying a day off in the field with Percy.

  Charlie watched them find the muddiest section. They pawed the ground with their hooves, churning up the earth and creating the perfect mud bath. Percy went first, folding down on to his knees and then rubbing himself all over. He rolled one way and then the other, covering himself so completely in mud that by the time he got up he looked bay rather than palomino.

  Noble Warrior followed suit, flipping over three times before he clambered to his feet and shook himself. He snorted and stuck his tail in the air before galloping off at racing pace to the top of the field. Percy followed as fast as he could, looking furious that he had to make so much effort.

  Charlie laughed and told herself it would all come off with a dandy brush, but she decided to keep them in the barn for the night so that they couldn’t add to the mess they’d made. She and Polly watched the video Larry had taken of the National Championships, noting where the test could be improved and watching other riders for clues and tips on how to do it better.

  ‘Do you know, watching the netball team and trying to work out where you guys can get sharper has really helped,’ Polly said.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘It’s made me much less self-conscious about criticism – I don’t have to take it personally if a judge gives me four out of ten rather than eight out of ten for a move or even for my overall riding. It’ll never be perfect because perfect just doesn’t exist! Instead, I need to try and work out how to improve by tiny margins, every time I ride.’

  Charlie pondered her friend’s attitude and thought about the inspirational signs in the corridors at school. Polly might still be rebuilding her physical strength, but mentally – she was in a different league. It was impressive.

  ‘Are you ready for the grand opening tomorrow morning?’ Charlie asked. ‘Your public will be out in force!’

  ‘Ready as I’ll ever be,’ Polly replied. ‘Have you done your background check on the supermarket?’

  ‘Yup,’ said Charlie. ‘I swear it’s not like any shop I’ve ever been to. I reckon One Market could be a game changer.’

  ‘You sound like a convert,’ said Polly.

  The next morning, Percy was woken up early and subjected to another sponge bath with bubbles. He was very grumpy indeed – two in three days was more than he could bear. Noble Warrior was far more gracious in his acceptance of the grooming.

  Charlie and Polly had been sent sweatshirts in black and yellow with ONE MARKET written on the front. The boys had the same outfits with matching baseball caps. Charlie thought they looked like wannabe gangsta rappers.

  Charlie was astounded to see how many people had turned up. The car park was rammed full and, as they turned the horsebox into its reserved space, she recognized several of the faces. Some of them had come to the Open Day at Folly Farm after Noble Warrior won the Derby. She also saw their headmistress, Mrs Kennedy, Dr Patterson and Mrs Wheeler who drove the school bus. Mrs Wheeler had brought her mother, who used a wheelchair.

  ‘Is that Granny Pam’s car?’ Charlie asked her mum, pointing at a dark green convertible.

  ‘She did say she might come,’ Mrs Bass replied with a smile. ‘You know she never likes to miss a showbiz event!’

  As she climbed down from the lorry, Charlie heard her grandmother before she saw her.

  ‘Darlings!’ Granny Pam called out, running towards them with open arms. She was wearing a bright blue headscarf and glasses with matching blue rims. ‘I’m so excited to see you! I’ve been reading that fabulous blog of yours and I am so proud to even know you!’

  Granny Pam twirled Charlie round and then gently placed her hands on Polly’s shoulders.

  ‘As for you, my girl, I want to commend you for that wonderful routine. I had to watch it four times just to be able to see it to the end through the tears.’

  ‘No wonder it’s had so many views,’ said Charlie. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t take much to make you cry – I saw you sobbing over the theme music to Emmerdale!’

  Granny Pam looked affronted. Hands on hips, she frowned at Charlie. ‘How very dare you?’ she said in mock outrage. ‘That music is very moving. Thinking about it, I’m sure you could do a dressage routine to it. Maybe a medley of soap-opera theme tunes – EastEnders, Holby City, Emmerdale and Corrie. That would be wonderful …’

  Charlie walked towards the back of the horsebox to lower the ramp.

  ‘Great suggestion, Granny Pam. We’ll certainly give it some thought.’

  ‘Doof, doof, doof …’ said Polly, mimicking the opening bars of the EastEnders theme. ‘Could be quite dramatic.’

  Charlie looked up and noticed that the photographers had arrived. The local press were out in force and she recognized the man who took photos for the Racing Post. Harry must have been working hard to get all this publicity.

  ‘Tell you what, Granny Pam,’ she said. ‘Could you do us a massive favour? Just go and talk to the press while we get ourselves together. That way they won’t take photos before we’re ready.’

  ‘Me, talk to the press?’ Granny Pam asked. ‘But, of course. It’s what I was born to do!’

  She danced towards the gathering of journalists and snappers, her blue scarf fluttering round her neck. Charlie saw her pose for photos before engaging the press in conversation. She was good at this.

  The car park was now so full that cars were backing up along the road and people were having to walk from further afield. Charlie noticed that One Market had three times as many accessible parking spaces as any supermarket she’d ever been to, and every single one was full.

  She also saw a group of children and adults wearing Wilmington RDA sweatshirts. Miss Cameron was with them. Charlie and Polly waved and they all waved back.

  ‘Hey, coach!’ a voice called out.

  Charlie and Polly turned round to see Flora Walsh and the netball t
eam walking towards them.

  ‘We brought someone who wants to meet you both.’

  Charlie certainly recognized the woman who was with them. She had braided black hair with pink streaks in it. The woman reached out her hand.

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Polly. And you must be Charlie?’ she said.

  Charlie nodded. She was speechless.

  ‘I’m Ama Agbeze.’

  ‘I know,’ Charlie stammered. ‘I know exactly who you are. You’re the captain of the England Roses!’

  ‘So pleased to meet you,’ said Polly. ‘I read all about your Commonwealth gold medal and how you developed the idea of funetherness. It’s really helped us and that’s how I’m going to get through this morning – by thinking of it as having fun together.’

  ‘Good plan,’ said Ama, raising her hand for a high five. ‘Can’t wait to see you do your thing and hear your speech!’

  Polly looked at Charlie. ‘What speech?’ she asked.

  Charlie looked around for her brothers and saw Larry not far away. She shouted and beckoned him over. He was carrying two headsets and two small black boxes.

  ‘These are your microphones,’ he said. ‘I’ve just got to fit them under your riding hats and put this on your waistbands.’

  He pointed at the black boxes, which had metal clips on the back of them.

  ‘Hang on a second.’ Charlie cut him short. ‘Why do we need microphones? You never said anything about giving a speech!’

  ‘I didn’t? Oh, sorry about that. Must’ve been a mix-up between me and Harry. We agreed that you and Polly should kind of explain, you know, what it’s all about. It’s not a speech as such – well, apart from the beginning bit where you have to welcome everyone and the end bit where you have to declare One Market officially open.’

  Larry started fitting one of the black boxes to the back of Charlie’s jodhpurs.

  ‘Sort of thing you can do in your sleep,’ he added.

  Charlie didn’t have time to be cross with him. She was too busy thinking about what she wanted to say.

  ‘We can do this,’ Polly said. ‘You’re always saying that it’s worth taking a risk for the things we care about and I think this is something worth caring about.’

  Charlie nodded. Her mouth felt dry. At least Polly didn’t seem nervous.

  Once the microphones were fitted, they tacked up Noble Warrior and Percy, and got themselves mounted.

  ‘You OK?’ Charlie asked, patting her friend on the leg.

  Polly beamed back at her. ‘Hell, yeah! Ama Agbeze knows who I am. I’ve never been more OK.’

  Charlie froze. Ama Agbeze was going to hear her speak. The captain of the England netball team, who was such a great speech-maker that she had the audience of Sports Personality of the Year eating out of her hand when they won Team of the Year. Ama had come all this way to see Polly, Noble Warrior – and Charlie. She had better make this good.

  Charlie gave Percy a squeeze on his round tummy and, together, she and Polly rode towards the entrance. Harry was talking to a smart-looking woman in a black suit with a crisp white shirt underneath. All the signs were in black and yellow to make them clearer to read, the doors were black with yellow edges and even the trolleys, were black with yellow handles. In fact, she saw a collection of powered trolleys, and low ones that had been adapted to use with a wheelchair.

  The clock above the main entrance had black hands on a yellow background. It was five to eleven.

  Larry appeared by her side.

  ‘They’ll switch your mics on at eleven on the dot and then it’s over to you.’

  Charlie looked down at him.

  ‘Are none of the managers going to speak? Don’t they want to introduce us or explain what the shop is about or what their opening hours will be? Don’t they want to do some sales waffle?’

  ‘No,’ Larry replied. ‘They’re open twenty-four hours a day and they reckon that people will discover what they’re all about by coming inside. Mrs Patterson over there thinks it would be wrong to bore people with sales talk when they’ve come to see you and Polly.’

  ‘Who’s Mrs Patterson?’

  ‘She’s the managing director – and the sister-in-law of one of your teachers, apparently. Heard all about Polly way before she saw the blog. Funny old world, eh?’

  Charlie looked at the clock. She had four and a half minutes to think of something to say. She patted Percy on the neck, hoping for inspiration. She saw Polly riding over to Mrs Patterson and watched them having a conversation. Charlie looked around the car park at all the people and noticed some fencing at the far end that looked as if it was protecting an open space. She wanted to know whether it tied in with the information she had read online. Harry ran over and handed her a leaflet which she scanned quickly, trying to take it all in.

  At one minute to eleven, Polly rejoined her and, together, they looked around the crowd. As well as the Wilmington RDA group, she could see babies in prams, wheelchair users, people with guide dogs, people using mobility scooters, even a boy with Postman Pat painted on his prosthetic leg. She caught the eye of Nadia, who was standing with the netball team. Nadia gave her a thumbs up.

  The clock started to chime behind her. Larry waved at Charlie as if he was a conductor cueing his orchestra.

  ‘Testing, testing. One, two, three.’ Charlie heard her voice echo out of the speakers that lined every section of the car park. She could also hear her voice coming out of the shop itself. She must be linked up to the speakers in there as well. The crowd fell silent and she saw hundreds of faces looking up at her expectantly.

  ‘Welcome to the grand opening of One Market,’ she began. ‘My name is Charlie Bass. This is my best friend, Polly Williams, and we are proud to be here today, to sell you … an idea. She looked at Polly, who smiled and spoke confidently into the microphone.

  ‘There are fourteen million people in this country who are disabled. I’m one of them, and all of us have to find solutions to everyday problems. How to get to work by bus if the one wheelchair space on that bus is already taken; how to navigate a building with a broken lift; what to do when there’s only one accessible loo and it’s out of order.

  ‘If you have a mobility issue, every day is like riding in the Grand National with Becher’s Brook or the Canal Turn standing in your way. I don’t think that’s right, and I am here to tell you that if we want the world to change, we have to find ordinary, everyday ways to change it.’

  Charlie listened to Polly and wondered where she had found the confidence to speak so clearly and assertively. Polly looked at her and nodded, silently passing the baton. It was Charlie’s turn to say something. She coughed loudly and heard the sound coming out of all the speakers.

  ‘Sorry!’ she shouted. Noble Warrior raised his head suddenly, startled by the sound. ‘Sorry,’ she said again, quietly. ‘I’m not … I’m not used to this.’

  Charlie’s eyes widened and she swallowed. She knew she needed to get her thoughts together. Suddenly she remembered one of the books her mother had given her. She knew what to say.

  ‘The Paralympics have shown us what elite athletes can achieve and they showcase the power of ability over disability, but not everyone can be, or wants to be, a Paralympian.’

  Charlie saw Mrs Patterson nodding her head.

  ‘You might want to be a musician or a doctor or a lawyer – but most of all, you want to be able to get into any building or on to any form of transport without a fuss.’

  She paused. Granny Pam whooped.

  ‘Sorry!’ Charlie said. ‘That’s my grandmother. She’s a bit overenthusiastic.’

  She saw Polly’s parents and her own parents standing together.

  ‘Polly and I want to help change things for everyone. We want all of you to think about how you can make a difference. If we all work at improving the world around us, we will end up improving the whole world. One Market has created a shopping experience that doesn’t use mountains of plastic, that gives you vegetables an
d fruit when they’re in season – and they’re going to use local produce, so if you want milk from cows that you can name, this is the place to come!’

  She looked at her father, who shouted, ‘Yay!’ Charlie smiled and looked at Polly, who immediately took up the challenge.

  ‘This is a place that is accessible and friendly and helps create a community,’ Polly said. ‘Mrs Patterson tells me there are going to be bingo nights in the café, book clubs, cookery classes, art classes. This is where you can make connections and care for each other.’

  ‘And –’ Charlie jumped in and pointed to a fenced-off area at the side of the car park where there were two all-weather courts and two pitches – ‘out here there’s basketball, seven-a-side football and netball.’ She caught Flora’s eye and grinned.

  ‘This isn’t just about turning up to buy things you need and getting out as quickly as you can, or sitting at home clicking a button and waiting for it to be delivered. It’s about making friends, sharing an experience, becoming part of a team, a family. Polly and I know, first hand, how good that feels.’

  The netball team started clapping in appreciation and whooping their support. Ama Agbeze shouted out, ‘Team up!’

  Polly took over. ‘One Market is for all of us and, if there’s anything you want to suggest to make it even better, just talk to any one of the OM team. They’re in black and yellow so they’re easy to spot.’

  Charlie looked at Polly and mouthed, ‘Ready?’ Polly nodded at Larry and, as he hit the button, the heavy drumbeat started, together with the voices singing, ‘Whoa, whoa, whoo-oh’.

  Charlie raised her voice to say, ‘Ladies and gents, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for …’

  Polly joined in as they said together: ‘We now declare One Market officially open for business. Come on in!’

  Charlie and Polly turned Noble Warrior and Percy towards the doors, which opened automatically. The inside was dark, but as they entered, the lights came on. The floor was made of rubber, making it less likely that things would break if they were dropped, and making it less slippery for people (and horses).