Pony Jumpers 9- Nine Lives

by Kate Lattey

  I was almost done grooming him when Susannah appeared at the stable door, looking breathless.

  “AJ! There you are!”

  “Where else would I be?”

  She reached up to give Squib a pat as he shoved his head demandingly in her face. “Has Tori had her ovaries checked?”

  I looked blankly at her. “Her ovaries?”

  “Yeah. After we talked last night, I sent a text to Lesley, our vet, asking if she could think of what might be wrong with her. And she just rang me back and said it’d be worth getting her ovaries scanned. She had a Thoroughbred mare when she was a teenager that was given to her because it was deemed unrideable. Lesley tried everything she could think of to fix her but nothing really worked, and she just kept getting worse. Anyway, the horse ended up colicking and had to be put down, and when they did a necropsy afterwards, they discovered massive tumours on her ovaries.”

  I stared at Susannah, my thoughts whirring around my head. “And that was why she was so tricky?”

  “Yeah, that’s what she reckons. The tumours were causing her pain and discomfort, which is why she was bucking and bolting. Her hormones were all out of whack, which was why she was so aggressive. She says if they’d known at the time, they could’ve taken the ovaries out and she’d probably have been a completely different horse.”

  “You think it’d work for Tori?”

  Susannah shrugged. “No way to know, without doing an ultrasound. It might not be her problem at all. But I think it’d be worth investigating.”

  “Definitely,” I agreed, tossing the body brush aside. “Marley said something similar when I talked to her this morning, that there could be something physically wrong with Tori that we haven’t found yet.”

  Susannah looked surprised as I exited Squib’s stable. “You talked to Marley?”

  “Yeah. She said no to taking Tori on, but said we should look further into why she’s being difficult. Which is pretty much what I’ve been saying all along.”

  “You’ll be feeling validated then,” Susannah smiled, and I shrugged.

  “I’ll feel better when I can talk Katy into it,” I replied. “Coming?”

  “I can’t, I’ve got to get Skip ready. But good luck!”

  I found Katy at her truck, tacking up Molly. I filled her in quickly on Susannah’s suggestion, tripping over my own words in excitement. Something deep inside me was convinced that this was the answer. It had to be. But Katy wasn’t so easily convinced.

  “It seems pretty far-fetched,” she said, ducking her head under Molly’s saddle flap as she tightened the girth.

  “Not really. The symptoms fit,” I argued. “There are so many stones being left unturned here, Katy. That’s basically what Marley said too, when I talked to her this morning.”

  She shot me an indignant look. “What’d you go and do that for?”

  “I didn’t plan it. I just happened to run into her, and Tori came up in conversation,” I said, trying to make it sound casual. Katy wasn’t buying that, either.

  “Uh huh. And let me guess – you just happened to ask if she wanted a new project?”

  I wasn’t going to deny it. “Well, yeah. She turned me down, though. But that’s beside the point…”

  But despite her refusal last night to let Marley have her horse, Katy looked alarmed at this revelation. “She said no?”

  “Only because she’s over-committed,” I clarified. “But she asked if you’d had Tori checked over by anyone, or had bloods taken, and when I said no…”

  “What’d you tell her that for?” Katy demanded, looking embarrassed.

  “Because it’s the truth. Right? So she said start there, get bloodwork done, see if there’s something out of whack.” Desperately, I racked my brains for a way to convince her. “If Tori has tumours on her ovaries,” I pointed out, “she’s not going to be any use as a broodmare anyway. So what happens then?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s Marlene’s problem.”

  “You really think she’s just going to keep her around as a paddock ornament?” I asked. Everything I’d heard about Marlene told me that wasn’t going to happen. Anyone who would knowingly sell a troubled horse to a teenager without divulging her behavioural issues was in it for the money, not for the love of horses, and I shuddered to think what she’d do with a horse that she’d deem useless. “Just give her one more chance,” I begged. “Please?”

  Katy looked at me, her light brown eyes bright in her tanned face. “You really love that horse, don’t you?”

  “I just don’t want you to give up on her,” I said. “It’s not right, and it’s not fair on either of you.” Katy bit her lower lip, and I sensed her resolve starting to waver. “You don’t throw a whole life away, just because it’s banged up a little. Remember?”

  “Oh, don’t.” Katy’s eyes welled up with tears, and she looked away from me as she wiped at them with the side of her hand. “Trust you to quote Seabiscuit at me to make a point.”

  “Trust you to recognise the quote,” I replied with a smile. “I’m your best friend, remember? I know what your favourite movie is. You’ve made me watch it enough times.”

  Katy sniffled. “You know how to lay on a pretty heavy guilt trip, that’s for sure,” she muttered, then let out a heavy sigh. “It’s not like I want Tori to be miserable. But every time I look at her I just feel like a huge failure.”

  “So keep fighting,” I told her. “Because that feeling will never go away if you quit on her now.”

  She took a deep breath, and her eyes locked onto mine. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  My heartbeat sped up. “Really? You’ll give her another chance?”

  “One more. One.” Katy held up one finger, but I’d already grabbed her in a tight hug.

  My best friend wrapped her arms around me and hugged me back. “I’m sorry we had a fight. I hate fighting with you.”

  “Me too. And I’m sorry about what I said last night. I shouldn’t have –”

  But she shook her head adamantly. “No, you were right. I think that’s why I got so mad,” she said, releasing herself from my hug and rubbing at her damp cheeks. “I don’t want someone else to succeed where I failed. It was bad enough watching you ride Tori better than me. Marley probably would’ve ended up at the Olympics or something, and I’d forever be that person who let the best horse in the world get away.”

  I squeezed her tighter. “Best horse in the world, huh?”

  “I was being hypothetical. She’s got a long way to go before she gets to that status,” Katy defended herself. “Now let me go before you break my ribs.”

  “It’s not my fault you’re such a stick insect,” I teased as I released her.

  Molly nudged her shoulder impatiently, and Katy smiled at her bay pony. “Okay, Mollypop. You ready to go jump?”

  Molly jerked her head up and down, as if she was nodding, and we both laughed out loud as Deb came hurrying over to us.

  “Katy, what’re you doing standing around? The class is about to start, and you haven’t even walked your course!”

  I legged Katy up into the saddle, then walked next to Molly’s shoulder as we made our way towards the ring. The wind had finally dropped, and the sun was baking down on our heads in a last reminiscence of summer as we walked towards the last Pony Grand Prix of the season.

  Later that same evening, I sat in the marquee and clapped until my hands stung as Susannah walked up to receive her prize as the winner of the National Pony Grand Prix series. Katy was already up there with a rosette of her own – her third place finish in today’s Grand Prix had bumped her up to fourth overall in the series. Susannah had held a narrow lead over Anna Harcourt, who’d jumped her pony almost every weekend, accruing points left, right and centre, but never quite pulling through when it counted. She’d had a shocker today and finished entirely out of the placings, while Susannah had ridden brilliantly, scraping ahead of Marley Carmichael on her superstar pinto in a blistering jump-off
to take out the class.

  Tess had continued her good run at the end of the season to place fourth today on Misty, and I’d stood ringside and proudly taken photos as my friends lined up in front of the judges, impatient for the day that I would be there too, right alongside them. I could see it all so clearly in my mind, could feel myself in the saddle, smiling at the riders next to me, could see the rosette fluttering from Squib’s bridle and the winner’s rug draped across his rounded quarters. And as my friends had set off on their victory lap, in my mind I’d been out there too, with Squib’s neck arched in front of me and enthusiastic applause following us around the ring.

  I was brought back to the present as the real-life applause died away, and the prizegetters moved offstage for photos.

  Susannah’s father leaned across the table towards Katy’s mum with a smirk. “Bet those selectors are kicking themselves,” he said smugly, glancing across the room towards the table where Lily Christianson and her parents were sitting, clapping politely. Lily hadn’t placed all weekend, and had finished outside of the top ten in the national rankings. “They’ll be wishing they had Susie in their team for Ireland now. But they made their decision, so now they’ve got to live with it.”

  He leaned back in his chair again as I grimaced at Tess behind his back, and she rolled her eyes skyward and shook her head. Derrick was clearly still unaware that it was exactly that kind of behaviour on his part that had influenced the outcome of the team selection. Everyone knew that Susannah hadn’t been picked for the team going to Ireland because nobody wanted to deal with her hyper-competitive father, and didn’t want his bad attitude out there representing New Zealand. As Susannah and Katy made their way back towards us, smiling and chatting to one another, I couldn’t help wondering whether anyone would ever have the guts to tell him the truth.

  “Hey, I’ve been thinking.”

  “Never a good sign.”

  Katy elbowed me in the back, and I rolled over on the luton and looked at her. It was late on Sunday afternoon, and the Solway show grounds were starting to clear out. I could feel the vibrations of other trucks as they rumbled slowly past us, big wheels digging ruts into the sodden ground. It had started raining last night, just before the awards dinner finished, and it hadn’t stopped since.

  But the bad weather hadn’t dampened our spirits. I turned my head and looked at the tricolour sash hanging over the curtain rail that Squib and I had won in the final today. Susannah and Forbes had beaten us in the jump-off again, but we’d finished second overall against some really tough competition, and I was thrilled with how successful this last show had been for us, especially after such a long break. Squib had loved it too, jumping out of his skin and bucking triumphantly at the end of every round. Next season couldn’t come soon enough for either of us.

  After Katy had won the Derby on Puppet, making sure that every pony in the truck came home with a prize, we’d tried to leave, but just as we’d prepared to load the ponies, we’d discovered that the truck wouldn’t start. After a couple of failed attempts to fix it from well-meaning friends, Deb had been forced to ring a local mechanic, who’d promised to stop by as soon as he could. That was almost two hours ago now, but we were still here, waiting. The ponies were keeping dry in the stables, and after Katy and I had ransacked the truck for any remaining food, we’d crawled up onto the luton and collapsed onto it.

  I’d been on the verge of drifting off to sleep before Katy spoke, jolting me back to wakefulness.

  “Thinking about what?” I asked her. “Not changing your mind about Tori, I hope.”

  She shook her head. “Not exactly. You know, Mum still reckons we should just cut our losses and hand Tori over to Marlene. Fortunately for you, Dad’s on your side. I warned him that it’s kind of a long shot, but he’s already decided that it’s the only possible verdict. He’d have booked her in for surgery already if I hadn’t stopped him.” She rolled her eyes, and even though I was hoping the same thing, I sympathised with her unease. Problems with horses were rarely that easy to solve, and this might not be a magic bullet.

  “Well, maybe he’s right,” I said hopefully.

  “Maybe.” Katy sounded unconvinced, but her voice took on a brighter tone as she continued. “But in better news, we’re going to try out Zoe next week, and I’m pretty sure that between us, Mum, Abby and I can talk Dad into buying her for me.”

  I frowned. “But what about Tori?”

  “If she’s better, then I’ll have two horses. If not…” She shrugged. “Well, let’s cross that bridge when we get to it. There might not be anything wrong with her, you know. She might just be a horrible person.”

  I shook my head. “I still don’t think that’s true.”

  “I know you don’t.” She rolled onto her back and sighed. “I wish I could see into the future, and know how all this works out.”

  “Me too.”

  The door flew open then and Deb came in, complaining loudly about the unreliability of mechanics and that at this rate, we’d be stuck here overnight.

  “I’m in favour,” Katy declared. “Sounds like an excellent reason to miss school tomorrow.”

  “If we don’t get out of here soon, we won’t be home until midnight anyway,” Deb conceded. “So you might as well sleep in and have the day off.”

  Katy cheered, but I knew that offer didn’t apply to me. My parents would expect me to go to school tomorrow, even if I didn’t get home until 4 a.m. I lay back and let Deb and Katy’s conversation drift past me, thinking hard. Somehow, I had to restore Katy’s faith in Tori. She’d fallen for her once, and I was sure that she could do it again, if only I could make her see that she was a horse worth keeping.

  True to prediction, it was dark by the time we made it back to Havelock North. We unloaded the ponies in the dim floodlights at Katy’s, pulling off their travel boots and rugging them up in warm dry covers, then turning them out into the paddock to stretch their legs and stuff themselves with grass. Tomorrow, we would drag all of the damp, dirty gear out of the truck and clean it, hose out the horse bay and scrub down the walls, empty the leftover food from the cupboards, air out the mattresses and wipe down all of the surfaces with soapy water. But that was tomorrow. For now, once the ponies were put to bed for the night, Katy headed inside to make some toast for dinner, while Deb took me home in her clunky little hatchback.

  “Katy told me all about your theory,” she said, pressing down on the clutch and trying to shove the gearstick into third. “Oh come on, shift, would you? Piece of junk.”

  I looked over at her in the dim light. She looked old, suddenly, the lines around her eyes deeper and longer than ever before. Damp wisps of hair were stuck against her face, and her eyebrows were knitted together as she stared, hawk-like, at the road ahead.

  “It’s worth looking into,” I said. We’d somehow avoided this topic all the way home, and I sensed that she’d been waiting to get me alone to talk about it.

  “I just don’t want to fill Katy’s head with false hope.”

  I shook my head. Realistically, if anyone was getting their hopes up, it was me. “Katy’s not convinced. She’s just humouring me, really,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

  Deb’s frown deepened. “It’s not really your call to make though, AJ.”

  I stared at her, surprised. Deb was usually all for trying to fix horses. She took pride in it, but Tori seemed to be an exception to the rule. I wondered how badly her broken foot was still hurting her, and whether that had a bearing on her opinion of the horse.

  “Isn’t it worth a shot, though?” I asked. “I know it might not fix everything, or even anything. But at least you can honestly say that you tried.” I picked at a loose thread on the seat upholstery. “The thing Katy’s most scared of is someone else succeeding where she’s failed, and if you don’t try everything, and someone else does, and finds a solution…”

  “Okay, I see your point.”

  Deb pulled into my driveway, and Dax start
ed barking as the tyres crunched lightly over the gravel. I opened the door before the car had come to a complete stop, and called out to him.

  “It’s only me. Calm yourself down.”

  Dax came bounding across the grass towards us, and greeted me enthusiastically as I climbed out of the car, putting his paws up on my shoulders and snuffling my face.

  “Yes, I’m happy to see you too. Down.” He dropped back to all fours and looked up at me, his tail wagging happily. “How you ever made it as a police dog, I will never understand,” I told him, going to the back of the car to get my bags out of the boot.

  Dax climbed onto the passenger seat to say hi to Deb, closing his eyes blissfully as she scratched behind his ears.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I told Deb. “And for the whole weekend, really. I don’t know where I’d be without you guys.” Still riding around a muddy paddock on my own, trying to stop Squib from bucking me off, probably. I shouldered my gear bag, thinking of the ribbons enclosed in it, the fruits of the weekend’s success, and swelled with gratitude. “I’ll come round after school tomorrow and help you scrub out the truck.”

  Deb nodded. “And I’ll ring the vet tonight and make an appointment for Tori.”

  I couldn’t hide my delight as I dragged Dax off the front seat and out of the car. “Really?”

  “Seems like the least we can do is humour you,” she said with a wry smile. “I don’t know where we’d be without you, either, AJ. Sleep well.”

  “You too.” I shut the car door and carried my gear up to the front door, Dax at my heels, sniffing my bags with interest. The door opened as I stopped in front of it to pull off my boots, and I looked up to see Anders. “Glad to see we’ve finally employed a butler.”

  “Hilarious.” He leaned against the door frame and looked down at me. “How was your weekend?”

  “Good. Wanna see what I won?”

  I unzipped my gear bag and pulled out Squib’s ribbons. The wide sash from the Stakes Final had silver trim on the edges and tassels on the ends, and I stared at it proudly in the bright outside lights.