by Kate Lattey
His eyes lit up as he talked, and I stared down at my plate. I used to love it when he talked that way. Planning for the season ahead, discussing the shows and the successes we’d have. I’d sit with him and join in with his ambitious plans, agreeing that I was well capable of winning every class we entered, because if you weren’t going to win then there was no point in even entering. Prizes were there to be won, and you did what you had to do to get the victory. And it had been fun at first, and gratifying that my success meant so much to him. For years it had been all about my brother, but once he’d left home and gone off to Uni, the attention had switched over to me. The attention and the pressure, both of which swiftly became oppressive.
Pete had seen it before I had, and a long time before my parents had. How the intense pressure was damaging my enjoyment of the sport. That I didn’t love my ponies the same way anymore. He’d been shocked when I’d agreed to sell Kenny, the pony I’d had for years, who’d brought me up through the grades and given me so much confidence. But I’d barely blinked, because selling him was something that had to happen, according to Dad. He hadn’t been up to the bigger fences, and after we’d had a couple of crashes, he’d stopped jumping altogether. He’d been sold quicker than you could blink, and now they wanted to do the same thing to Teddy.
But I wouldn’t let that happen – not if I could help it. Teddy was Pete’s pony. He’d been handed on to me when my brother had grown too tall and too old to campaign him anymore, and I’d been thrilled by the privilege. And we’d had our share of success together. Teddy had always been a bit quirky, but he used to help me out. He used to jump from anywhere, never used to flinch at the height or width of the jumps or the ride I gave him into them. We’d made a good team – at least, I’d always thought so. Teddy didn’t seem to agree.
Not lately, anyway.
But I wasn’t going to let them throw Teddy away like they’d done with Pete. A year and a half ago, my parents had cut him out of our lives completely. Well, Dad cut him out, and Mum followed suit, because she always does as she’s told. Nobody talked about him anymore, much less to him. It was as though he’d died, not moved to live with a great-uncle in South Africa. I couldn’t condone what he’d done, but I missed my big brother. He was the only one who’d ever listened to me.
Dad took a gulp of red wine and cleared his throat. “I did mention to Steph that we’d be interested in that little chestnut she has. She said she’d think about it, but she’ll be aging out of Young Riders soon and as soon as it goes on the market, we’ll snap it up. What do you think?”
He wasn’t even asking me. He was looking at Mum expectantly, and she returned his gaze with a thoughtful expression. “Mmm. Pretty mare, and she’s won a lot. I could see Susie riding her,” she said, her eyes going dreamy and faraway.
I set my cutlery down on my plate and pushed it away from me. “May I be excused?”
“Ultimately, it was the ineptness of the British generals and their refusal to listen to their subordinates that led to thousands of unnecessary deaths on the Gallipoli peninsula during World War One,” I wrote. “But the solidarity created between soldiers from Australia and New Zealand carries over into modern times, and is now considered by many historians to have marked the birth of both nations’ identities. For this reason, the ANZAC campaign is remembered by both countries at memorial services on the 25th of April every year.”
I skim-read back over my History essay, hoping that would be a sufficient summary. Too bad if it wasn’t. I was too tired to do anything more tonight, so I saved the file and sent it to print. While the printer warmed up, I logged onto Facebook and opened my news feed.
For a long time, I’d taken myself right off social media, unable to handle the comments and messages people had been sending me. Cyber bullying, the experts called it. I wished my detractors would’ve just come up to me and punched me in the face instead. It probably would’ve hurt less. At least the bruises would fade. The things they’d said were still with me, still haunting me. The taunts, the threats, the words that had slashed like a knife.
You make me ashamed to be human.
If you ever show your face at a horse show ever again, we’ll make you sorry.
You deserve to die for what you did.
I hadn’t done it, hadn’t had anything to do with it, but that hadn’t mattered to them. I’d protested my innocence until I was blue in the face, but it hadn’t made an iota of difference. So I’d tried to ignore them, and when that hadn’t worked, I’d deleted my entire Facebook account and tried to disappear.
I’d only set it up again a few months ago, and I was very careful about who I friended now. Even then, I still made occasional mistakes. It turned out that even people you thought were your friends were just waiting for you to let your guard down before they attacked. I’d learned that the hard way.
I dragged my fingertips down the touchpad, scrolling down the page, scanning the comments and pictures that other people had posted. My cousin’s dog on the beach. Bridget posing for a selfie in front of her bedroom mirror. AJ’s grey pony pulling a face as she tempted him with peppermints. A bulletin from ESNZ, with an update on Samantha Marshall’s condition.
I clicked on that one, and waited for it to load. I’d been as horrified as everyone else when the news of Sam’s accident had broken a couple of weeks ago. Accidents happened in equestrian sports, everyone who was involved in them knew that. It wasn’t a case of whether you fell off, but when, and how badly it would hurt. Bones were broken, heads were concussed, bodies were bruised and battered. Horses went lame, got injured, coughed and colicked and knocked themselves about. You just did what you could to keep yourself and your horses safe, and hoped that the worst things never happened to you.
But the worst had happened to Sam, and as I read the article, I felt a coldness settle over me. Paralysed from the waist down. Permanent damage. Unlikely to ever walk again.
I couldn’t imagine how her family were feeling. I couldn’t begin to imagine how Sam was feeling, and I shuddered. I clicked on the comments section and read through people’s commiserations, wishing I could add to them but not daring to try. I was blinking back tears as people reminisced about seeing Sam ride - as a child, as a teenager, as a young woman, making her way to the top. Always smiling, always with a positive attitude, never letting the small stuff get her down. Whenever anything like this happened, the person involved was always deified, becoming a saint overnight as everyone conveniently forgot all of the bad and focused only on the good things they’d done. It was human nature, I supposed. But even though I didn’t know Sam well, had only met her a handful of times, I couldn’t for the life of me think of a single time I’d seen her do something wrong or horrible. She was one of those people that everyone liked, and who liked everyone. I wondered what the future held for her, trapped inside a body that no longer worked. I wondered if her positive outlook on life would last.
A message popped up at the bottom of my screen, and I glanced down at it nervously, anticipating an attack. Then my heart started pounding a staccato beat, and I forgot all about Sam Marshall and her troubles, because one of mine was staring me right in the face.
It was a message from my brother.
Hey sis.
I hadn’t spoken to him in over a year, my self-enforced exclusion from all social media making it difficult for him to get in touch. My parents wouldn’t talk to him, and I’d deleted my email account as well, when the bullying had got out of hand. So when he’d sent me a friend request on Facebook a few weeks ago, I’d accepted immediately. My parents didn’t know I’d set up this account, so they wouldn’t know if we got in touch. But every time I’d started to compose a message to Pete, I hadn’t known what to say, so I’d stayed silent. Waited for him to get in touch with me.
He hadn’t…until now.
You there?
I swallowed hard.
I’m here.
The speech bubble popped up, showing that he was typing
. I waited nervously, feeling my palms begin to sweat as I heard footsteps on the landing outside my bedroom. If my parents caught me on Facebook, they’d be furious. If they knew I was talking to Pete, their anger would know no bounds. But I couldn’t bear to click away. Not yet.
Hows life?
So casual, as though we hadn’t talked in over a year because we were too busy, not because we’d been forbidden to do so.
Same old. How’s Sth Africa?
His reply was swift. Hot. Crowded. Keeping busy tho.
I wanted to ask what he was doing. I wanted to know where he lived, and if he’d made friends, and whether he was getting along with Adriaan. I wanted to tell him about Teddy, and ask for his advice on what to do, how to get him to jump better, how to get Dad to realise that we couldn’t possibly sell him. But I could hear my mother’s footsteps coming closer, and I knew that I didn’t have much time to say anything.
G2G mums coming.
I heard her rap on the door, saw the door handle start to turn as Pete’s speech bubble popped up again. Our time was up. I typed one last message, hit Enter, then closed the window and shut the laptop as Mum walked into the room.
“All done with your homework?”
I nodded, getting to my feet and miming a yawn. “Yeah. I’m just heading to bed.”
“Good idea.” She came into the room and unplugged my laptop, then carried it back to the door. My parents didn’t allow me to sleep with any technology. Their theory was that it would prevent me from getting a proper night’s sleep. Usually I couldn’t have cared less, but tonight it mattered. But I had no choice, and arguing with her would only make her suspicious. I watched my mother step back onto the landing, pulling the door ajar behind her.
“Good night, darling.”
“Night Mum.”
I changed into clean pyjamas, went into my ensuite and brushed my teeth. Washed my face twice, then applied the acne cream that didn’t work nearly as well as the advertising had promised. I heard Dad’s heavy step coming up the stairs, and I slipped into bed and switched out my light so that he wouldn’t come in and ask me what I was still doing awake.
Lying in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, I thought about my brother. I was glad I’d sent that final message, even if I was going to have to wait to find out what he’d been typing out to me. I wondered if it was the same thing. The only thing that had really mattered, the one thing that I’d wanted to say for so long, ever since he’d disappeared out of my life.
I miss you.
* * *
I shortened Teddy’s reins, sunk my weight down into my heels, and moved him up to a canter. Fixing my eyes on the jump ahead, I committed complete focus to the task at hand. Hands low and steady, lower leg still, weight all the way down into the stirrup. My heel sank deeper than I’d ever thought possible before I’d started taking lessons with Bruce and he’d drilled me on it for hours. Back flat, shoulders square, eyes up. Seat slightly out of the saddle, upper body tilted slightly forward, staying in balance with my pony.
Perfect balance. Complete commitment. Total focus.
I counted the strides as we come out of the turn, Teddy’s neatly shod hooves digging into the arena surface. We’d had it upgraded over winter, and the footing was perfect. Bruce leaned against the jump stand and watched as we cantered down to the fence. Teddy jumped it, but he rattled the back rail.
“Come again!”
I looked left, shifted my weight, circled Teddy back towards the jump again. We’d already jumped the fence three times off each rein as Bruce drilled me over and over on finding a good distance. Training my eye until I could do this without even thinking. Teaching me to sit and wait and stay quiet with my body, instead of overriding like I used to.
“Ride forward, come in on a longer stride.”
I closed my legs against Teddy’s strides, and his pace quickened. I eyed the fence, made the turn. Then Teddy tripped, pitching forward onto his forehand. I waited for him to regain his balance, but he didn’t. He went all the way down, face first into the dirt. I was thrown over his head, and braced myself as I landed hard on my upper back. The breath was knocked right out of me, and tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I struggled to breathe.
I could hear Bruce swearing, and I forced myself to sit up and show him that I was okay. But he wasn’t looking at me. He was crouched next to Teddy, who was still on the ground. Lying on his side.
Not moving.
I staggered to my feet and stumbled over to them, dropping to my knees next to Teddy’s head. It was a moment before I could speak.
“Is he okay?”
Bruce shook his head slowly, then placed a large hand on Teddy’s damp neck and looked at me sadly. “No, he’s not. He’s dead.”
More books by Kate Lattey
available on Amazon
DARE TO DREAM
Saying goodbye to the horses they love has become a way of life for Marley and her sisters, who train and sell show jumpers to make their living. Marley has grand ambitions to jump in Pony of the Year, but every good pony she’s ever had has been sold out from under her to pay the bills.
Then a half-wild pinto pony comes into her life, and Marley finds that this most unlikely of champions could be the superstar she has always dreamed of. As Marley and Cruise rise quickly to the top of their sport, it seems as though her dreams of winning the Pony of the Year might come true after all.
But her family is struggling to make ends meet, and as the countdown to Pony of the Year begins, Marley is forced to face the possibility of losing the pony she has come to love more than anything else in the world.
Can Marley save the farm she loves, without sacrificing the pony she can’t live without?
Reviews for Dare to Dream:
“There are always two parts to a good horse story–the people and the horses. Sometimes authors get the horses right and Kate Lattey definitely knows horses. All the details are spot on. But for me, it was the people that made this book shine. The relationship and dynamic between the three sisters is filled with warmth, humor, and truth. I recommend this book for all horse-lovers.
– Kim Ablon Whitney, author of “The Perfect Distance”
“I absolutely loved Dare to Dream. I finished it in tears. It’s moving, wrenching, funny. Goodness, it’s good.”
– Jane Badger, author of “Heroines on Horseback: The Pony Book in Children’s Fiction”
DREAM ON
"Nobody has ever tried to understand this pony. Nobody has ever been on her side. Until now. She needs you to fight for her, Marley. She needs you to love her."
Borderline Majestic was imported from the other side of the world to bring her new owners fame and glory, but she is almost impossible to handle and ride. When the pony lands her rider in intensive care, it is up to Marley to prove that the talented mare is not dangerous - just deeply misunderstood.
Can Marley dare to fall in love again to save Majestic's life?
Reviews for Dream On:
“Kate Lattey has produced another tremendous, character-driven book, with every bit of authentic horsey detail you could wish for. I defy you not to cry at the end. If you haven’t already gone and loaded this on to your Kindle go and do it now. You won’t regret it.”
- Jane Badger, author of “Heroines on Horseback: The Pony Book in Children’s Fiction”
“Kate Lattey’s characters are convincing and engaging, and the storyline kept me hooked from the first page to the very satisfying epilogue. A deliciously enjoyable read.”
– Amanda Wills, author of the “The Lost Pony of Riverdale”
Clearwater Bay #1:
FLYING CHANGES
When Jay moves from her home in England to live with her estranged father in rural New Zealand, it is only his promise of a pony of her own that convinces her to leave her old life behind and start over in a new country.
Change doesn’t come easily at first, and Jay makes as many enemies as she does friends before she finds t
he perfect pony, who seems destined to make her dreams of show jumping success come true.
But she soon discovers that training her own pony is not as easy as she thought it would be, and her dream pony is becoming increasingly unmanageable and difficult to ride.
Can Jay pull it together, or has she made the biggest mistake of her life?
Reviews for Flying Changes:
“Excellent read in the traditional format: girl gets pony, works through traumas with the pony and in her own life. Brilliant New Zealand background, and excellent, accurate horse stuff.”
– Jane Badger, author of “Heroines on Horseback: The Pony Book in Children’s Fiction”
“Detailed and descriptive, it’s one of those books that once you start, you can’t put down.”
– The Children’s Bookstore
Clearwater Bay #2:
AGAINST THE CLOCK
It’s a new season and a new start for Jay and her wilful pony Finn, but their best laid plans are quickly plagued by injuries, arguments and rails that just won’t stay in their cups. And when her father introduces her to his new girlfriend, Jay can’t help wondering if her life will ever run according to plan.
As her friends battle with their own families and Jay struggles to define hers, it is only her determination to bring out the best in her pony that keeps her going. But after overhearing a top rider say that Finn’s potential is being hampered by her incompetent rider, Jay is besieged by doubts in her own ability…and begins to wonder whether Finn would be better off without her.
Can Jay bear to give up on her dreams, even if it’s for her pony’s sake?