by Kate Lattey
It was only then that it occurred to me that Dad had no idea where I was. I’d left him a note that morning, explaining that I was going riding with a friend, but I’d left the house before eight and it was now almost four in the afternoon. Even worse, I’d left my cellphone in my bedroom at home, still on its charger.
“Um, can I borrow your phone?”
“Sure. Stay for dinner too, if you like. I can run you back to your place afterwards to get what you’ll need for the night, and tomorrow. And it’ll give me a chance to meet your parents, reassure them that I’m not trying to kidnap you or anything.”
I followed her into the house, and picked up the phone, quickly dialling home. Dad picked up on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Hi Dad, it’s AJ.”
“Oh hi Possum, how are you?” He didn’t sound worried at all, and my relief at not being in trouble was tempered by a flash of annoyance. He probably hadn’t even noticed I’d been gone all day.
“Fine. I’m over at a friend’s place, and they’ve invited me and Squib to stay overnight and go to a show with them tomorrow.” I could sense Deb hovering in the background, probably waiting to see if my parents wanted to talk to her. “They’re going to drop me home after dinner to pick up my things, so you can meet them then. They’re really nice,” I added lamely.
“Uh huh, that sounds fine,” Dad said vaguely. “I can get your brother to bring your things to you, if that’s easier. That’ll save putting your friends out. Just let me know what you need.”
I gritted my teeth. You’d think having a detective for a mother who spends her days investigating homicides would make your family suspicious of you hanging out with unknown people, but you would be wrong. Anything that got me out from under their hair worked for my Dad.
“Um, I think it’d be better if I came and got them,” I said. “It’s too hard to explain and the stuff is all over the place.”
Dad was unfazed. “Okay, well come by anytime.”
Of course I will. I do still live there, I wanted to snap at him, but I schooled myself to patience. “Okay. See you later.”
I hung up the phone and turned to face Deb. “It’s fine with him.”
She nodded, looking pleased. “Super. I think Katy’s back with the last two ponies, so if you girls could get them both worked while I get dinner started, that’d be great.”
“Sure.” I headed quickly towards the door. At least I’d found somewhere that I could be useful.
CHAPTER SIX
Dax barked at us as we walked up the front steps to my house, came bounding out when I opened the door, then raised his hackles and growled low in his throat at the sight of strangers.
“Dax, be nice,” I told him. “Sorry. He’s an ex-police dog and he takes his job very seriously.”
Katy looked slightly alarmed by the huge German Shepherd, but when I rubbed Dax’s head and told him to be polite, he obediently sat down and offered a paw to shake. Katy laughed.
“You better shake it or he’ll think you’re being rude,” I said to her, and she obliged. Dax decided she was probably okay, and started sniffing her sweater, interested in the lingering smell of her little dog.
Mum was home for once, her head bent over masses of paperwork that she had strewn across the dining table. She barely looked up when I walked into the room, with Katy and Deb on my heels and Dax bringing up the rear.
“Hi Mum.”
“Hello darling.” She glanced up, then noticed our guests with a start. “Oh, hello.”
She quickly stood up, shuffling her papers into a haphazard pile. Not quite fast enough for us to miss the gory photos of stab wounds, and Katy turned slightly green.
“Sorry, I’m just trying to get some work done. You must be AJ’s new friends. Lovely to meet you.”
She shook hands with Deb, and I quickly introduced them, then said I’d better go and get my things from my room.
“I’ll help you,” Katy said quickly, and followed as I made my way to the door.
“Okay, sure.”
We walked quickly down the hallway, and my heart sank when I noticed that Anders’ bedroom door was open. Worse, he was sitting on his bed with his guitar, plucking away at it. He couldn’t really play much on the guitar, but he liked the way that it made him look when he held it, and as he constantly reminded me, the girls loved it. He’d had a handful of lessons and taught himself a few songs, and seemed content with that.
He glanced up as we walked past. “Hey Poss. Hey friend-of-Poss.”
Katy skidded to a halt outside his door, and I stifled an internal groan. Great. She glanced at me with a grin. “Poss?”
“It’s a nickname. Ignore him.”
Anders ran his fingers lightly over the guitar strings and smiled at my friend. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
He stood up, all six foot something of him, and walked to the doorway to shake Katy’s hand. I shot him a filthy look, but he pretended not to notice.
“I’m Anders.”
“Katy.”
“Nice to meet you, Katy.”
“Come on,” I told Katy. “My room’s down here.”
I started walking, but when I reached the end of the hall and looked back, Katy was still standing there chatting to Anders, who was leaning against the doorframe of his room with his arms folded, grinning at her.
I flung the bedroom door open and stomped in, making Astrid jump. She was lying on her bed reading a book, which was pretty much all she did when she wasn’t eating or sleeping. Dad’s theory was that the rest of us were so madly active that the sporty gene had expired by the time it came to Astrid. She unplugged her headphones from one ear and looked at me.
“Where have you been all day?”
“Riding.”
“All day? Poor Squib must be exhausted.”
“I was riding with my friend, on her ponies. She has six of them,” I told Astrid, who raised her eyebrows.
“Wow, lucky.”
“Yep.”
I rummaged through my drawers, trying to find a presentable pair of jodhs to ride in tomorrow. The ones I’d worn to Pony Club on Thursday were still in the washing basket, but I had another pair that I tried to save for the most special occasions. I pulled them out and looked at them critically. Mum had picked them up second-hand almost a year ago, and they’d been a tight fit back then.
“You’ll never get back into those,” Astrid said helpfully.
“Shut up.” She rolled onto her stomach again, and I stuffed the jodhs into my bag anyway, hoping for the best. My show jacket was in the wardrobe, and it would definitely still fit, since it had been three sizes too big when I got it. I had been meaning to get it dry-cleaned, because it still had a trail of Squib’s snot across one shoulder from the last time I wore it, but I’d expected to have more than a few hours warning before the next show I attended. I shoved it into my bag with a shrug, reassuring myself that at least Squib would look good tomorrow. Hopefully his blindingly white tail and socks would distract from his scruffy rider.
Katy appeared in the doorway just as I zipped my bag shut.
“Is this your room?”
“Yeah.” I motioned towards my sister. “That’s Astrid. This is Katy.”
“Hi.”
Astrid rolled over again and looked at Katy with interest.
“Are you the one with six ponies?” I felt my face flush, but Katy just nodded as she came further into the room.
“That’s me.”
“You must be rich.”
Katy shrugged. “Not really. Mum’s a hoarder.” She looked at the handful of ribbons pinned to the wall above my bed, and my embarrassment increased as I mentally compared the meagre offering to the masses of winnings that decorated her house.
“Okay, let’s get out of here.”
“All right. Nice to meet you Astrid,” Katy said with a smile, but my little sister had already stuck her headphones back in and returned to her book.
Ande
rs was still strumming away on his guitar when we passed his room.
“See ya,” I called on my way past, and he slapped his hand over the strings, stopping the reverberation of sound.
“Good luck at your horse thing,” he yelled back. “Kick some ass, take some names.”
Katy was right behind me as we approached the kitchen. “He’s so nice.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Mum and Deb were getting on famously, sitting at the table chatting non-stop.
“That was quick,” Deb exclaimed as we came back into the room. “It always takes Katy half an hour to get ready for anything.”
“It does not. Stop exaggerating.”
Mum and Deb gave each other commiserating looks, presumably about the rudeness of teenage girls, and Deb stood up. “Well, I suppose we’ll be off and let you get back to work.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Mum said, and I shifted my weight restlessly while I waited for them to finish making pleasantries. There was something about having Katy and Deb in my house that was making me uneasy, and if Anders decided to make another appearance, Katy was likely to melt into a puddle and have to be siphoned off the floor. But finally we made it out of the house, and as we walked back to Deb’s car, I felt like I could breathe again.
“They seem lovely,” Deb said as we climbed into the SUV.
“Yeah.”
She started the engine and backed out across the gravel as I stared at the bag in my lap and wondered how ridiculous I was going to look tomorrow in my shabby second-hand clothes, and hoped I wasn’t about to make a complete fool of myself.
I woke up early the next morning, and lay on the couch staring at the row of shiny trophies arranged on the mantelpiece opposite. Were Katy and her mum going to expect me to win today, when I’d never even managed to jump a clear round at a show? They were clearly competitive and used to winning, and my stomach cramped nervously. I hoped I wasn’t going to let them down.
Deb was up first, and came quietly into the room to get breakfast started. I sat up quickly so she would know I was awake, and she smiled at me.
“Morning. Did I wake you?”
“I was awake.” I shimmied out of the sleeping bag they’d provided me and ran my fingers through my tangled hair.
“Nervous?” she asked with a smile, seeming to read my mind.
“A bit. You’ve been so good to me, I don’t want to let you down.”
Deb shook her head at me. “Don’t worry. If it doesn’t go well, we just put it down to mileage. There’s always another day.”
I nodded, rummaging through my bag and pulling out my jodhs and a t-shirt. “I’ll just get dressed.”
“Okay. Can you bang on Katy’s door when you go past, make sure she’s getting up?”
Katy was still in bed with a pillow over her head. I rapped on her door and told her to get up, but she just mumbled something unintelligible and pulled the blankets up higher.
In the bathroom, I washed my face and changed my shirt, then looked at my jodhs sceptically. Astrid had been right – they looked way too small for me. Resolutely I gave it a go, just in case, but I could barely scrape them over my thighs, and there was no way they would reach my waist, let alone fasten.
Tears sprang into my eyes as I mentally kicked myself. Why hadn’t I just fished out my dirty pair and brought them? I could even have asked to wash them here, or got Mum to wash them at home last night and picked them up on the way to the show this morning, but I had stubbornly pretended that I would fit into my outgrown jodhs, and now I was going to have to go into the kitchen and admit to Deb that I had nothing to wear.
Katy’s room was empty when I passed it, and my heart sank to see her sitting at the kitchen counter with a plate of toast, still in her pyjamas but very much awake. Her eyes scanned me, still in my pyjama shorts and carrying my jodhs in one hand.
“All good?”
I shook my head, and to my horror I could feel the tears threatening behind my eyes again. Pull yourself together, AJ! I took a breath, and confessed.
“I’m so dumb. I packed the wrong pair of jodhs, and these ones don’t fit me anymore. Do you think we could go past my place on the way to the show and pick up another pair?” They’d be filthy, but dirty was better than non-existent.
Deb frowned. “We could, but it’s a bit out of the way. Why don’t you borrow a pair from Katy?” She looked at her daughter. “Go find AJ something that’ll fit her.”
Katy shoved the rest of her toast into her mouth and jumped down from the bar stool. “C’mon then.”
Ten minutes later, I stood in front of Katy’s bedroom mirror and stared at myself. Her cream breeches fit me like a glove, and on discovering that I didn’t have a proper show shirt, she’d insisted that I borrow one of those as well. The bright red shirt with its white collar looked amazing, and I turned side-on, unable to quite believe how professional I looked.
“Perfect. You can keep those jodhs,” Katy told me, flopping back onto her bed with a satisfied sigh.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why not? They don’t fit me anyway. I won them in a raffle, but they’re too big on me and they look all saggy.” She pulled a face, then sat up. “Not that you’re fat. I’ve just got stick legs.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“At least you have boobs. Flat as a pancake, over here,” she said sadly, then sat up again and went back to her closet. “Actually, try this on too. I made Mum buy it because I loved it so much, but it’s too broad in the shoulders and looks stupid on me. I wore it once and then saw photos and was so disgusted that I haven’t worn it again, which drives Mum crazy because it was not cheap.”
She pulled a show jacket off its hanger and held it out to me, and I took it. It was black with silver lining, and a subtle grey trim on the collar and pockets. It was far nicer than my jacket, which was going to look utterly ridiculous with the rest of Katy’s clothes, but I felt a bit self-conscious as I pulled it on.
“I feel like a dress-up doll.”
Katy laughed. “You’re my very own life-size Barbie. That’s perfect! Ugh. It looks so much better on you than it does on me. Oh well, at least it’ll be getting some use. Now, let’s get breakfast finished before we load the ponies.”
Back at the breakfast bar, Katy started filling out my late entry form for the day. My appetite had returned momentarily, although now that both Squib and I were going to look the part, I was getting even more nervous about letting the side down.
“What’s Squib’s show name? Does he have one?”
I blushed. “Yeah, it’s Squirrel Nutkin.”
Katy looked up with a grin. “Seriously?”
“I know, it’s stupid.”
“No it’s not! It’s the cutest thing ever. Squirrel Nutkin,” she repeated, writing it on the entry form. “That’s awesome. And it totally suits him. He is a bit of a nut. Besides, it’s better than having a pony named after a sports drink.”
“Huh?”
“HK Lucozade. It’s Lucas’s show name, and I hate it.”
“Why don’t you change it?” I suggested, but Katy shook her head.
“Can’t. It’s his stud name, he’s always been registered with that name, and he’s got a competition record as long as my arm. Be crazy to change it now. Besides, he doesn’t belong to me, so I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
“Really? Whose is he?”
“He still belongs to Abby Brooks. She produced him when she was on ponies, and never wanted to sell him. When I got Molly on lease from Steph, Abby liked how she went for me so she gave me Lucas to ride as well. When I move off ponies, he’ll go on lease to someone else. Which will be the worst day of my life, probably.”
“You don’t own Molly either?”
“Nope. I’ve got a paddock full of borrowed ponies out there. Robin and Foss and the Forbester are the only ones that are technically mine.”
Something clicked in my head then, as I realised why Katy was so keen to make
money from selling her other ponies. I’d assumed she would be able to sell Lucas and Molly when she was done with them, and that they’d make her enough money to buy two Young Rider horses if she wanted to, but that wasn’t the case at all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When we arrived at the show grounds, Squib was so excited to be somewhere new that he literally launched himself off the truck ramp, tearing the rope from my hands. Fortunately when he landed he was so overcome that he stopped to look around, and Katy quickly grabbed him, laughing at his antics. I hurried down the ramp behind him, nursing my rope-burned hand, and tied him to the side of the truck, where he spun around and whinnied loudly.
To make matters worse, we’d parked only a few vehicles down the row from Donna, who was standing behind her float with her hands on her hips, glaring across at Squib. She took two steps towards me, and I hurried back up the ramp to help Katy unload the rest of the ponies. By the time I was leading Fossick down the ramp, Donna had disappeared again, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Deb was amazing. Whenever I’d been to a show before, I’d had to try and organise myself, and I never really knew what I was doing. As a result, I’d been eliminated before I’d even started more than once, and was usually either stupidly early or really late for my classes. But Deb had a whiteboard on the wall of the truck that she wrote the names of all the ponies on, with their class numbers and approximate start times. She’d gone over to the office first thing to put my late entry in, and when I was ready to ride, she led Squib up to me with his mane and tail as white as snow, his hooves painted black and his socks so blindingly clean that I could hardly stand to look at them. I almost couldn’t believe that this was my pony. With his borrowed martingale, jumping boots and bright white saddle blanket, which Deb had shoved at me and insisted I used, the only thing letting the side down was the shabby Wintec saddle. And once I was sitting in it, nobody would even notice that.
“He looks amazing,” I gasped as Deb gave me a leg-up onto his back.