A Horse for the Summer

by Michelle Bates

  “Tom, chuck us a dandy brush will you?” Jess called. She was going to have her work cut out grooming Minstrel. He was a skewbald and the white parts of him got extremely muddy. Tom handed her the dandy brush and headed off to make a start on Napoleon. Cheerfully, they chatted together as they busied themselves around the yard.

  By a quarter to eleven, Nick had taken two classes and a hack. The day was fully under way. As usual, Alex and Kate were late and didn’t get to the stables until five to eleven, when most of the work had already been done. As they arrived, an approaching engine could be heard rounding the corner to Sandy Lane and they had to jump out of the way as a large horse box juddered to a halt beside them. This was the moment everyone had been waiting for. Chancey had arrived.

  Everyone was quiet as a disgruntled-looking man stepped down from the cab, alone.

  Where’s Georgina? Tom thought to himself. Surely she would have come with Chancey to settle him in and say goodbye.

  “I don’t know what you’ve got in there,” said the man, hunching his shoulders. “Supposed to be a horse...well, he was when I loaded him anyway. A right handful. Only just managed to get him in the box and that was nothing compared to the journey. Thought he was going to kick the box down. Rather you than me, lad,” he said, climbing into the box before Tom had a chance to reply.

  There was a frantic whinny and the sound of drumming hooves reverberated around the yard as Chancey pranced down the ramp. He was certainly on his toes, but he didn’t look like the sleek, well turned-out horse that Tom remembered seeing last season. He was still unclipped and his shabby winter coat was flecked with foam as, feverishly, he pawed the ground. No one knew what to say.

  Eventually, Rosie managed to pipe up with: “Are you sure it’s the same horse?”

  “Of course it is,” Tom snapped, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “He only needs to be clipped and he’ll look fine.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Jess muttered under her breath.

  “Shouldn’t he have been clipped already?” said Rosie. She was always looking things up in her Pony Club manual and was sure that she had read that horses should be clipped before January, or their summer coat would be spoiled.

  “He probably should have been, still that won’t be too much of a problem,” said Nick kindly. “Now come on everyone, stop crowding him and get back to what you were doing. Take him to his new home, Tom.”

  Tom approached the horse and took the head collar that the man offered him. Chancey jumped skittishly from side to side, rolling his eyes and flicking his tail as Tom led him off.

  “Poor Tom,” said Rosie. “He was so excited about that horse. Still, even though Chancey isn’t very good-looking, I’m sure he’ll be an absolute dream to ride.”

  Tom didn’t know what to think. When he had seen Chancey last season, he had been one hundred percent fit, his muscles rippling under his glossy chestnut coat. Tom was sure that he hadn’t been mistaken, he was definitely the same horse.

  Tom picked up the things that the box driver had left in the middle of the yard. There was a saddle and bridle, a dark blue New Zealand rug and a box full of smart grooming brushes that looked as though they had never been used. Putting them in the tack room, he grabbed an old body brush and curry comb, and hurried back to Chancey’s stable. He would have to be quick if he was going to be able to give Chancey a quick groom and get home in time for lunch. Tom opened the door slowly, taking care not to startle him.

  “Come on, my boy. Let’s get you cleaned up and give you your lunch. I bet you’re hungry after that awful journey,” he crooned.

  Chancey seemed to have settled down a little and nuzzled Tom’s pockets inquisitively. Tom fumbled around for a mint. The horse’s lips were as soft as crushed velvet as he gratefully accepted the offering.

  “That’s better,” said Tom. “I thought you’d taken an instant dislike to me, and it’s very important that we’re friends if we’re going to spend the whole summer together.”

  “Hey, now hang on a minute,” said Tom, as the nuzzling turned into a frantic chewing. “I’m sure my jacket doesn’t taste that great and I won’t be getting a new one if you eat it either.” Gently, Tom pushed Chancey’s nose away.

  “I’ve got to go home for lunch in a minute,” Tom went on, giving him a quick rubdown. “I’ll be back at two. Nick has said that we can join the 3 o’clock class. Are you listening?”

  Chancey wasn’t paying the slightest bit of notice. Already bored of all the attention, his head was buried deep in a bucket of pony nuts as Tom bolted the door of the stable and set off for home.

  Lunch was something that Tom’s mother insisted upon. If he was going to be at the stables all day, she said that he must at least come back at one to eat. He was careful to obey her, if only to stop her from going on about the amount of time he spent at Sandy Lane.

  It was already ten to one. He was going to be late again. Brilliant. He would have to get going, and fast.

  Tom got home at five past one. Rushing inside, he headed straight for the bathroom to wash his hands. The rest of his family were already starting lunch when Tom stumbled to the table and sat himself down before anything could be said. His little sister, Sophie, was reading.

  “Put that away, Sophie,” her mother said sternly. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s rude to read at the table?”

  “Well, Dad does it,” Sophie answered back. “He’s always reading the paper and eating at the same time.”

  “Well, that’s different. When you’re your father’s age, you’ll be allowed to do it too,” she said, as Sophie surreptitiously slid the book onto her lap.

  “Come on David, we really ought to set an example to the children,” said Mrs. Buchanan, turning to her husband. Tom’s father looked up from his paper.

  “So, how was cousin Georgina then?” he asked Tom as he put away his paper. “Did you remember to thank her for lending you her horse?”

  “Well, the odd thing is, she didn’t come with Chancey,” said Tom. “He was delivered by a stranger.”

  “What’s so odd about that?” asked his mother. “Perhaps Georgina has got too much to do before she goes away. Packing can be a nightmare. It always takes me ages.”

  Tom shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t convinced that was the reason. If he was ever lucky enough to own his own horse, he knew he would simply make time to say goodbye. He didn’t think he would even be able to leave his horse’s side...not for a whole summer.

  “What’s the horse like though?” asked Sophie, looking up from her lap.

  “OK,” said Tom.

  “Just OK?” said Mr. Buchanan. “But we’ve heard of nothing other than this horse for the last week. He must be better than OK.”

  “He will be, but I haven’t tried him yet,” Tom said tiredly. He didn’t want to tell them how Chancey had come careering out of the horsebox – his mother would only worry.

  Tom might have been having lunch with his family, but his mind was elsewhere.

  “Oh Thomas, you haven’t gulped down your food have you? You’ll get indigestion if you’re not careful.”

  Tom’s mother only called him Thomas when she was really annoyed with him.

  “Sorry,” said Tom. “But I do have to get back to Sandy Lane. Nick has said that I can ride Chancey in the 3 o’clock class. May I get down from the table?”

  “Hmm. All right then,” said Mrs. Buchanan. “You mustn’t be back late though, it isn’t the summer holidays yet. You still have your homework to do...” Her voice tailed off as Tom dived for his riding hat and shot to the door.

  “Thanks Mum,” he said.

  Tom scooted out of the house and threw himself onto his bike. The countryside sped past as he raced off to Sandy Lane. He hardly even noticed the uphill climb on the way back, and soon he was pedalling into the yard.

  Scrambling off his bike, he went to find Nick. He didn’t have to look far. Nick was sitting at the desk in the tack roo
m, signing people in for the next ride and collecting the money.

  “Who’s in the 3 o’clock, Nick?” Tom asked.

  “Anna, Mark, Claudine, Lydia and...someone I don’t remember...oh, could it be you?” Nick smiled teasingly.

  “Phew!” Tom gasped. They were all pretty good riders. He hoped that he was up to it, that he wouldn’t let Chancey down.

  “Do you want to go and tack up Chancey then, Tom? He seems to have settled in all right now. And we’re almost ready to start.”

  “Sure,” Tom smiled, hurrying off.

  As he let himself into the stable, Chancey’s brown face turned to look at him enquiringly. Tom patted his neck and tickled his nose, letting the horse smell his clothes to get used to him. Then, deftly, he tacked him up and led him out of his stable, down the lane and into the outdoor school. Rosie, Jess, Alex and Kate gathered to watch.

  “He looks much better now that he’s been groomed and rested,” said Rosie.

  “Yes, and he doesn’t have that mad glint in his eye any more,” said Jess encouragingly. “He was probably just a bit unsettled by the journey.”

  Tom felt proud as he walked round the school and thought back to how well Chancey had performed on the circuit last season. He knew that he was on a good horse and trembled with anticipation at the power beneath him.

  Chancey arched his neck and let out a loud whinny. He was well proportioned, with shoulders that sloped smoothly up to his withers and wide, muscular flanks.

  “Is this the new horse that you were telling us about Nick?” asked Anna. She normally rode Feather, but since the little mare had gone lame, had been riding Hector and was looking for a smaller replacement.

  “Yes,” said Nick. “As I said, he’s Tom’s, but other people will be able to ride him if they like.”

  Loosening up their horses, the riders started at a rising trot and then, one by one, began to canter around the track. Chancey wanted to take the lead and Tom found it hard to keep him behind the others.

  “Can you all return to the walk and shorten your stirrups. We’re going to try some jumping,” Nick called, sending everybody off to the other end of the outdoor school.

  They were going to start with a pair of cross poles and jump from the trot. Anna trotted Hector round, and popped him neatly over the jump, as did the other riders. Tom watched intently as Mark took off too early with Jester. Tom felt uneasy as Chancey jogged on the spot, fighting for his head.

  “Mark, I’ll put a pole on the ground in front of the jump to mark the take-off and then you can try it again,” Nick called from the middle of the school. This time, Jester jumped successfully.

  Looking back, Tom couldn’t remember when it all began to go so desperately wrong. Chancey had already started shying at imaginary creatures in the hedgerow and Tom was finding it increasingly difficult to hold him. As the pair approached the jump, Chancey threw his head in the air and dashed towards it.

  “Try not to check him too much Tom,” Nick shouted. “I know it’s hard, but he’s fighting with you for control. If you try to alter his strides, he’s going to lose his balance.”

  Tom and Chancey headed for the jump. With a loud snort and a flash of his tail, Chancey ducked out from the jump and swerved to the right. And then he was off, charging around the paddock. Three circuits later, an ashen-faced Tom had managed to pull him up.

  “Right Tom,” Nick called. “I think that’s enough excitement for one day.”

  “That horse looks crazy,” said Anna. “He’s certainly not another Feather.”

  Nick stared silently. “Tom, don’t worry, I’ll talk to you about it later.”

  It was easy for Nick to sound confident, but Tom knew Anna was right. Chancey had looked mad, and Nick had been banking on being able to use him as a replacement for Feather.

  Back in Chancey’s stable, Tom started to untack the horse. He ran the stirrups up the leathers on the saddle before sliding it off. Then, in a trance, he slipped the strap of the head collar over the chestnut neck and took off the bridle.

  “Why, oh why, did you have to show me up like that?” he sighed, burying his head in Chancey’s mane. “You totally humiliated me and in front of everyone...all of my friends at Sandy Lane. No one will want to ride you now, and then what will happen? It’s only because of Nick and Sarah’s kindness that you’re here anyway. You were supposed to be looking after me today.”

  Chancey stared balefully at Tom. There was not a hint of apology in his dark eyes.

  “I’m not going to cry,” Tom said through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to let you win. I know how good you can be. I’ve seen how good you can be. I’m going to make you that good again. I’m going to take you to the top. I swear it.”

  4

  BACK TO SQUARE ONE

  It was dark when Tom got home. His parents had been starting to worry. But when he pushed open the back door and walked headlong into his mother, she could see he was upset and let him skip supper.

  Alone in his room, he sat down on his bed and let out a loud sigh. It was so easy to feel determined about Chancey at Sandy Lane, but when he was away from the yard, doubts crowded his mind. He looked around his room. Every wall was covered with posters of horses and famous riders – riders on whom he had modelled himself. How stupid he had been. What had made him think he could ever be as good as any of them? He simply didn’t have it in him.

  “It was me who was at fault today, not Chancey,” he said aloud. “If I was any good, I would have been able to control him.”

  Despondently, he put his head in his hands. What should he do? Clearly the horse wasn’t suitable for lessons and he couldn’t really expect Nick and Sarah to keep Chancey on at Sandy Lane for free.

  At the same time, Nick and Sarah were talking along similar lines in the cottage at Sandy Lane.

  “We’ve got to be realistic. We can’t use him in the school. What if he went crazy with one of our clients? It would ruin our reputation,” said Sarah.

  “You’re right,” Nick said glumly.

  “We’ll have to buy another horse to replace Feather. You’ll need to tell Tom that he can’t keep Chancey with us any more,” said Sarah.

  “What!” said Nick. “We can’t do that, Sarah. You know that Tom has set his heart on having him.”

  “Still, we only agreed to it on the understanding that we would be able to use the horse in lessons,” said Sarah, “and now that’s clearly impossible. It was bad enough supporting one horse that wasn’t pulling its weight but two.”

  Nick looked downcast. “But Chancey is a magnificent animal. If we can get him back to his old self, we could use him in lessons. And if he’s seen performing well at shows, it’ll do Sandy Lane’s reputation no end of good.”

  “What if we can’t?” Sarah had put Nick’s worst fears into words. “He’s obviously been ruined somewhere along the line. Oh, if only you weren’t so impetuous, Nick Brooks.”

  “Well, if it comes to it, I suppose we could sell Whispering Silver,” Nick said tentatively. “We’d get a good price for her. She’d make an excellent hunter and then we could afford to buy a replacement for Feather and have some money left over to buy another horse too.”

  Sarah gazed at him fondly. He really meant it. He was willing to give up the horse he valued most in the world – Whispering Silver, the retired racehorse he had nursed back to health. No one else had thought that Nick could do it. Sarah thought back to the day he had bought her at the sale, saving her from the knacker’s yard. It had turned out all right in the end, but for a while it had been touch and go as to whether she would even live.

  “No, Nick. I don’t want you to do that. You need Whisp to take lessons on,” Sarah continued, breaking the silence. “Besides, she’s yours. She couldn’t possibly belong to anyone else. You were the one who saved her life.” Sarah took a deep breath. “No, we’ll find the extra money somehow. If we start scouting through the horse magazines we’ll get something, only we won’t be able to aim as
high as Feather.”

  “But horses are so much more expensive if you buy them privately. Couldn’t we...”

  “No, Nick,” groaned Sarah. “Promise me one thing...no more sales. It’s too much of a risk. You just don’t know what you’re going to end up with. We want guarantees, vets’ certificates...no more gambles.”

  “You’re right. I know you’re right,” said Nick.

  Sarah smiled.

  “Now, are you going to be the one to tell Tom of our decision?” she asked quietly.

  “Yes, I’ll go and have a word with him now.”

  “Now?” said Sarah, looking at her watch. “But Mrs. Buchanan will freak. It’s so late to turn up on someone’s doorstep uninvited.”

  “I know. But this can’t wait until the morning. He was so disappointed.”

  “OK,” said Sarah. “And make sure you sort out some sort of training programme...”

  Sarah didn’t have a chance to finish her sentence as Nick hurried out of the cottage and climbed into their battered old Land Rover. Revving up the engine, he headed out of Sandy Lane. Tom lived on a new estate about four miles away. It was as far removed from the world of Sandy Lane as you could get – neat paths, smart lawns, clipped hedges. Nick couldn’t imagine Tom being allowed in the kitchen in his dirty riding boots.

  Even though Mrs. Buchanan was surprised to see Nick when she opened the door, she didn’t ask any questions. She knew Tom was upset but was careful not to pry into his other world.

  “Tom, you have a visitor,” she called up the stairs.

  Tom looked up as Nick stuck his head around the door.

  “Can I come in, Tom?” he asked gently. Tom nodded. He knew what Nick had come to say, knew that it was unfair of him to expect otherwise. After all, Nick and Sarah did have a business to run.

  “Don’t say anything. You don’t have to explain. I know he’s no use.” Tom blurted out the words.

  “Hey, now hold on a minute,” said Nick looking surprised. “I didn’t come here to say that.” He smiled.

  “I know things this afternoon weren’t that great. But it’s not the end of the world. Chancey was and could still be a champion. We can’t use him in lessons at the moment, and Sarah and I will have to think about buying a horse to replace Feather...”