by Kate Lattey
She’d edited the footage I’d taken together seamlessly, and I had to admit that based on the video and the photos that she’d selected, Fossick looked like a bold, promising young jumping pony.
“What’s dishonest about that?” Katy demanded, turning her laptop screen towards me.
I scanned the text of the ad, trying to find something in there that wasn’t true. There wasn’t anything, really. Fossick was a clever, smart jumper with good technique, she was easy to handle and straight-forward to ride, and showed promise for show jumping or eventing. I searched the words for an outright lie, but there wasn’t one. And yet…
“It just doesn’t sound like Fossick.”
Katy raised her eyebrows. “What would you have written?”
I shrugged, and she opened a blank document and shoved the laptop towards me. “You write her ad then.”
“I don’t know her well enough,” I hedged, sensing that I’d offended my friend.
“Write one for Squib, then. Pretend you were going to sell him.” Katy got up and went to the pantry to get some biscuits. “I’m making Milo, do you want one?”
“Sure.” I looked at the blank screen for a moment, then started typing.
14.2hh Connemara x Welsh Cob gelding, 6 years old.
That was the easy part. I muddled through the rest, being as honest as I could. Katy came back and read over my shoulder as the hot drinks heated in the microwave, and when I was done she shook her head at me.
“That is the worst For Sale ad I’ve ever read in my life.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Look at all these negative words. Strong. Wilful. Needs experienced rider.”
“It’s true.”
“Yeah, but you don’t need to say it like that.”
“What would you put?”
Katy cracked her knuckles and sat down next to me, pulling the laptop back towards her and deleting everything I’d written after the first sentence.
Amazing Grand Prix prospect with talent to burn, she typed. Huge scopey jump, exceptionally brave and honest. Winning easily at 1.05m with very limited outings, will go all the way to the top with the right rider. Fantastic to work with, 100% sound, straight and clean legs.
She sat back in satisfaction as I stared at the ad. “That’s really what you’d write?”
“Yep. Then I’d put POA at the bottom and let them fight it out.”
“POA?”
“Price on application. Then they have no idea whether you want five or fifteen thousand, but when they ring up and ask about it, you just say that you’ve got heaps of interest in him and you’re actually thinking of maybe keeping him a bit longer because he’ll be worth heaps more in a few weeks with more mileage under his belt, and they start falling all over themselves to make you an offer, and the next thing you know you’ve got twenty-five grand in the bank for a pony that’s only ever been to a handful of shows in his life.”
I stared at her. “Wow. Is that really how it works?”
“Sometimes. Not always. Sometimes you get the ponies that you just can’t get rid of, like this ugly little chestnut thing I had last season which we basically gave away in the end because we were so sick of him. Or the ones that everyone wants but every time you get them ready to sell they injure themselves again, and every time you take them out it’s like Russian roulette whether or not you’ll have a sound pony at the end of the day. We had one like that. Managed to sell her eventually, after about six or seven stupid injuries that cost us loads in vet bills, and we let her go for a song because we just wanted rid of her while she was still sound. Of course she’s never been lame a day in her life with her new owners,” Katy lamented. “Typical.”
She got up to fetch our mugs of Milo as I scanned over the ad she’d written for Squib again.
“Do you really think Squib would sell for twenty five thousand dollars?”
Katy laughed. “Only if you were really lucky. Probably closer to eight in his current state, but give him a season and people will be lining up to pay you the big bucks for a pony like him. He could be a real money spinner for you,” she said cheerfully as she sat down on the couch and kicked her feet up onto the coffee table. “Now, what movie should we watch tonight?”
CHAPTER TEN
When we arrived at Feilding two weeks later, Squib once again announced his arrival with a loud whinny as soon as we dropped the ramp.
“Shut up,” I told him as I untied him. “You’re such an embarrassment.”
“He’s just happy to be out,” Katy grinned, standing at the bottom of the ramp with her arms outstretched. “Okay, I’m ready. I hope he packed his parachute!”
Fortunately this time Squib remembered his manners, and although he ran down the truck ramp, I managed to keep hold of him and got him tied to the side of the truck without mishap.
“Hi Katy!”
We both turned as a girl with a long mane of curly blond hair leapt out of the huge silver truck parked next to us and greeted Katy with a toothy smile.
“Hi Hayley!” Katy said. “How’s life in the big leagues?”
Hayley pulled a face. “Not nearly so much fun.”
“I bet.” Katy glanced at me and clarified. “Hayley aged out of ponies last season, so she’s moved on to hacks. But luckily for her, she’s got a little sister who’s taken over the ride on her pony.”
“I wouldn’t call it lucky,” Hayley said testily. “Tess has had all winter to get used to Misty, but she still freaks out about jumping anything over a metre ten on him, and has flat out refused to do the Grand Prix on him today. The most I could talk her into was the Mini Prix, and she’ll probably fall off at the first jump. What a waste.”
I listened to them chat as I tied Forbes next to Squib. There was a girl sitting in the doorway of Hayley’s truck next to us with the same curly hair and wide blue eyes, and I smiled at her, thinking this must be her sister Tess. She gave me a tentative smile in response.
“Who’s the new pony?” Hayley asked then, standing back and admiring Squib. “He’s cute.”
“That’s AJ’s pony,” Katy said, waving a hand towards me by way of introduction. “Wait ‘til you see him jump. He’ll be giving your Misty a run for his money in no time at all!”
Squib’s first class was another ninety centimetre round, which looked significantly smaller than the same height had only two weeks ago. I walked the course on my own because Katy was jumping Forbes in the indoor, but Deb helped me get Squib warmed up. The copper roller and martingale had made a big difference, and so had the schooling that I’d given him under Katy’s guidance. Deb had hardly seen Squib go since our last show at Woodville, and she was blown away by his progress.
“You’d hardly know he’s the same pony, except that he still clears the jumps by miles,” she beamed as I stood at the gate, waiting for my turn to go in. “If he keeps improving at this rate, he’ll be jumping metre-twenties by the end of the season.”
The pony ahead of me finished its round with eight faults, and I trotted Squib into the ring.
“Next to jump, AJ Maclean and Squirrel Nutkin.”
There was a scattered giggle from the spectators at the announcement of my pony’s name, and I flushed. I’d never liked it, but I hadn’t been able to think of anything better, and as Katy said, it did suit him. Squib bounded into canter, spooking at the jumps as we cantered past them, pretending he’d never seen a coloured pole in his life before, and I had my hands full keeping him contained. He flew towards jump one and catapulted himself into the air, ears fixed forward as he kicked his heels up behind him. I dug my knees into the saddle and gathered him up for the second jump, which he cleared with equal enthusiasm.
By the time we were cantering through the finish flags, I was exhausted but exhilarated. I saw Deb standing halfway along the side of the ring, video camera in her hand as she recorded Squib’s success. Katy was right behind her, sitting in Forbes’ saddle and giving me a thumbs-up. I clapped my pony’s so
lid neck and brought him back to a trot, then rode out through the gate and over to them.
I was expecting smiles and congratulations, but they looked horrified as I approached, and Katy was shaking her head at her mother.
“You didn’t tell her it was an instant jump off?”
Deb shrugged, looking guilty. “I thought I did.”
I pulled Squib up next to them, confused. “What’s wrong?”
“You were supposed to stay in the ring and do your jump off straight away!” Katy told me. “Only Mum forgot to explain that rule to you, so now you’re eliminated.”
“What?”
My heart plummeted. I should have known that. I’d done instant jump off classes before, but I hadn’t even thought about it. I’d been so excited by the clear round that I’d wanted to go straight to my friends and have them congratulate me.
Katy rolled her eyes at her mother, clearly blaming her instead of me, which was a bit of a relief even if it wasn’t quite fair.
“I’ve got to get Forbes back, he was only six away when I left. Don’t worry AJ, you’ll make up for it this afternoon. Besides, that was the last ninety you’re ever going to do. Those jumps were far too small for Squibbles!”
I felt better after I’d watched the footage of Squib’s round. Despite my stupid mistake, I couldn’t believe how good he looked out there, and Katy was right about the jumps. Squib cleared all of them by miles, tucking his front legs up tight and kicking his heels skyward over each fence. His blindingly white tail flew up like a pennant behind him every time he jumped, and the expression on his face was the cutest thing ever. He looked absolutely thrilled to be competing.
I watched it over and over as we ate lunch, until Hayley came in and threw herself down on the sofa next to Katy, launching immediately into a diatribe about her sister, who had apparently had a refusal in the Mini Prix that morning.
“I don’t understand her. She’s been handed one of the best Grand Prix ponies in the country, and she immediately turns him into a disaster! I should just give him to you to ride.”
“Do it,” Katy said through a mouthful of sandwich, her eyes lighting up. “I’d take him in a heartbeat.”
“I wish I could. I’ll try and talk Mum into it, but she keeps going on about how Tess just needs time to get used to him.”
“Well he’s a lot different to Rory,” Katy pointed out. “Misty’s not the easiest ride out, even you have to admit that.”
“He’s only difficult if you’re scared of him. Tess just needs to harden up. Speaking of easy rides, did you see what Susannah Andrews was riding at Pukahu?”
Katy set down her plate and gave Hayley her full attention. “Oh my God. Yes. Well, I saw pictures on Facebook. I can’t believe they bought him.”
“I can’t believe Bubbles sold him to them! Of all people…it just blew my mind when she turned up on him. Everyone’s jaws were literally on the ground!”
“Poor Skybeau.”
“Tell me about it.”
“She wanted Forbes last season, but I was like over my dead body. I wouldn’t sell a pony I hated to a girl like her, let alone one as lovely as Forbes.”
Before I could interject to ask what was so bad about this girl Susannah, Deb came into the truck, tapping her watch.
“They’ve moved the Grand Prix up to one-thirty,” she told Katy, who jumped to her feet. “And Lucas is second to jump, so you’d better hurry up and get ready. AJ, can you get Molly tacked for us?”
Half an hour later, I was standing at the railing in the indoor arena with Deb’s video camera in my hand, preparing to film Katy’s round on Lucas. The first rider was already in the ring, cantering smoothly between the fences and jumping cleanly over each one. Her pony was a gorgeous light chestnut and she rode him beautifully. I smiled as I watched, impressed by the fluidity of their round and wondering if I’d ever be able to get Squib to go like that.
The chestnut pony finished with a clear round, and a scattering of applause filled the sidelines as Katy came trotting into the ring on Lucas, his flaxen mane and tail standing out in the dim light of the indoor.
“That’s all clear for Susannah Andrews and Skybeau, so they will be back for the jump off. Next to go, Katy O’Reilly on HK Lucozade.”
So that was Susannah. As I lifted the camera to eye level, I couldn’t help wondering why Katy was so adamant that she would never sell Forbes to her. I couldn’t see a thing that Susannah had done wrong out there, so I could only assume that she was a horrible person who treated her ponies badly. I watched her from the corner of my eye as she rode out, but she was patting her pony kindly, and when someone at the gate congratulated her on her round, and she smiled and politely thanked them. The mystery continued. What could she have done to make Katy and Hayley hate her so much?
Lucas and Molly both jumped clear first rounds, and came back for the jump off. Molly was double clear, but Lucas had a rail at the second fence, and finished in sixth place. Molly’s efforts were good enough for third, but it was Susannah who won the class, much to Katy’s disgust.
“Hideously unfair,” she muttered as she unsaddled Molly back at the truck.
I was crouching next to Squib, strapping on his tendon boots and trying to contain my own nerves. I’d just walked the course for my next class, and although the jumps looked tiny after the metre-thirty fences that Katy had just competed over, I was convinced that I was about to do something stupid again and ruin my own chances.
But I didn’t. Squib and I jumped the best round of our collective lives, and this time I didn’t leave the ring before the jump off. I brought him back to a walk after the flags, let him catch his breath, and ran my eye over the jump off course before the bell rang again. Deb had walked the course with me, telling me to just take the jump off easy and go wide on the turns, riding for a clear round instead of going fast to win, but Katy had come up to me right before I went in and told me that it was a waste of time at this height trying to do a steady double clear.
“Anyone can DC at this height, and there’s forty-three ponies in your class. You can’t afford to muck around out there if you want a placing. So this is what you do. Jump the first two fences like normal, make them clean, then land and turn as tight as you can, getting inside the double to the planks. Then turn tight again back to the grey oxer. Give him a straight run into the double, he’s too green still to cut that corner, then let him gallop on to the triple bar. He’s got the scope and the smarts to clear it from any distance. Just don’t drop the reins at the base or anything dumb like that. Pretend you’re on a cross country course, and just keep your eyes up and let it happen. Squib will take care of the rest.”
The bell went, and I squeezed Squib back into a canter. He cleared the first two jumps easily, and when we landed I took Katy’s advice, asking him to turn tightly to the left. My wilful pony responded immediately, pivoting hard and making the turn even sharper than I’d expected him to. I lost a stirrup, but clung on and squeezed him on toward the planks. He arrived short but scraped over clean, and I got my stirrup back as I swung him back around towards the grey oxer, pushing him on strongly. Squib flew over and I sat up quickly, trying to steady him up for the one-stride double.
“Woah, pony,” I said under my breath, and although he mostly ignored me, we made it through by the skin of our teeth. The back rail of the out rattled in its cups, but I ignored it and let Squib go pelting down to the triple bar. His short legs ate up the distance, his head up and his ears eagerly pricked. A wave of exhilaration washed over me as we came up slightly long, but Squib decided that the distance was manageable, and launched himself up and over with room to spare. I galloped him on through the flags, then brought him back to a steady canter, my heart pounding an excited staccato beat.
We did it!
“A very fast jump off for Squirrel Nutkin, clear in a time of 32.85 seconds which puts them firmly into the lead,” came the announcement and I flung my arms around Squib’s neck as we trotted back tow
ards the gate.
“Nice work!” Katy reached up to give me a high five as I rode out past her. “Man, there’s no stopping you two now!”
I was still buzzing half an hour later when I went in for my ribbon. One of the other competitors, a tall boy on a chunky black pony, had flown around the course and shaved two seconds off Squib’s time, but finishing in second place was still a huge achievement for us and I refused to be disappointed. And as the judge tied the blue satin around my pony’s neck, I was certain that this was only the start of much greater things to come.
Back at the truck, I was still buzzing as I stowed Squib’s saddle away in the side compartment. I could hear Katy talking to Hayley inside the truck.
“That grey pony is awesome! He reminds me so much of Misty.”
“I know,” Katy agreed. “He’s cool huh? He’ll go Grand Prix easily.”
I glowed with pride, lingering to listen to their conversation as I picked flecks of mud off the underside of Squib’s stirrup irons.
“You should buy him off her. He’d be a great addition to your team,” Hayley said.
I grinned, waiting for Katy to scoff at the idea, but she didn’t. Instead, she said something that made my blood run cold.
“Trust me, I’m working on it.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I did my best to ignore Katy for the rest of the day. She had no idea why, and kept chivvying me to cheer up and talk to her, so I eventually told her that I had a migraine coming on. She became immediately sympathetic, offering me painkillers which I pretended to take, and insisting that I lie down in the back of the truck while they got the ponies sorted.
As Deb started the truck and we began rumbling out of the show grounds, Katy leaned back from the front seat and peered at me through the crawl-through.
“We’ll take Squib home to ours tonight,” she told me confidently. “Save you the hassle, and he’s practically moved in anyway.”