“Yes Nick,” came back a chorus of voices.
“Right then. Now that’s out of the way, let’s go.”
Turning Whispering Silver to the gate, Nick led the riders out of the yard. In single file, they made their way around the outside of the first field and trotted on to the field of stubble beyond. They chattered excitedly as they made their way to Larkfield Copse. It was a track that Tom knew well. It was the first place he had ridden Chancey properly...really properly. He sighed. It seemed so long ago now. Tom cringed as he saw Georgina jab Chancey in the mouth as they entered the woods. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t need a riding crop, but knew that it would only be causing trouble for himself. Now she was pulling on the reins and yet driving him on with her heels. No wonder Chancey was confused. Tom had to look away.
A gentle breeze flurried through the trees. Tom looked up, but couldn’t see the blue of the sky, hidden as it was by a blanket of leaves.
As they emerged from the shade of the copse, the August sun bore down on their backs. Tom looked behind him at the line of trotting horses as they crossed the old coastal track to the open stretches. It was a lovely sight. Tom could smell the salt in the air as they cantered along the cliff tops.
Tom gazed down at the beach below as Feather sniffed the air. Slowly, the horses picked their way down the cliff path. Once on the sand, Chancey seemed even more edgy and looked as though he might launch himself forward at any moment. Georgina yanked at his head as they trotted along the shoreline.
“Try not to fight with him for his head, Georgina,” Nick called out, seeing that she was having trouble. Georgina scowled.
Chancey’s neck tightened as Georgina sawed furiously on the reins. He was beginning to foam at the mouth and the hollows of his nostrils were a blood red as he struggled against his leash. Tom looked on grimly.
“Right then everybody. Let’s canter,” said Nick. “Remember, it’s not a race. Alex, you set off first and we’ll follow on.”
Alex pushed Hector on into a stiff canter, setting a pace for the others to follow. Soon they were streaming along behind him. Minstrel followed on Hector’s toes, then came Kate, Rosie, Georgina and Tom. Nick brought up the rear with Whispering Silver.
Before Tom knew what was happening, he saw Georgina push Chancey on into a gallop. They had overtaken a rather startled looking Rosie and were wildly out of control as they overtook Kate and Jess and went neck and neck with Hector. Realizing that a race was on, the horses turned into a stampede as they bolted along the beach. Tom tried to pull Feather back gently but he couldn’t stop her. His face felt taut as the wind whistled past.
Eventually, Chancey had had enough of racing and seemed to be tiring. He slowed down and soon he was gently cantering...trotting...walking. Tom breathed a sigh of relief. Nick was going to be furious but at least they had managed to stop. The others drew to a halt behind him. Rosie looked as white as a sheet.
“Georgina, did you listen to a word I said?” Nick asked angrily.
“Yes,” she replied insolently. “But I didn’t want to go so slowly for all of the ride,” she smiled, at what she thought were her new friends.
“As long as you ride at Sandy Lane, you ride under my rules,” Nick roared. “Is that clear?”
“Yes Nick,” said Georgina, pulling a face as he turned away.
With that, Nick led the riders on the route back to Sandy Lane. He didn’t say a word, but it was obvious that he was livid. Tom himself was deep in thought as they rode back. He felt as though there was a black cloud hanging over him. It had really upset him to see Chancey egged on like that. He didn’t want to sit by and watch the horse ruined. He would have to keep out of Chancey and Georgina’s way, for the time being anyway. He would still go to visit Chancey with a daily titbit, only he would have to make sure that he wasn’t in any classes with them.
There were nine days now to the Benbridge show. Tom wasn’t going to be driven away from Sandy Lane because Georgina had come back. He would just spend more time with Feather. She might not have Chancey’s strength, she might not have his all-encompassing courage, but she was a talented horse. And Tom was sure that they would go well at Benbridge.
12
BENBRIDGE!
The yard was busier than normal on the morning of the Benbridge show. Everyone was rushing around oiling hooves, searching for grooming kit, plaiting manes, putting studs in hooves, and so it went on. By nine o’clock, everyone was ready and the last of the horses had been boxed and bolted.
In spite of everything, Tom felt excited. Feather was easily the best of Nick and Sarah’s horses. And at least Chancey was going to be at Benbridge, even if they wouldn’t be sharing the same experience. He also had the added bonus that he didn’t have to share the journey to Benbridge with Georgina. Tom smiled to himself.
Nick had thought that it would be too much to have Georgina in the horse box with Tom, so Sarah and the others had been lumbered with her in the Land Rover. She had already been complaining that she hadn’t expected Chancey to have to share a horse box. Nick had soon shut her up by telling her that she didn’t have to be taken to the show.
Of the Sandy Lane team, Kate had entered Jester for the 13.2 show class, Alex had entered Hector for the novice jumping and Tom and Georgina were down for the open jumping. Tom hoped that just because Georgina was arriving with them, people wouldn’t think she was Sandy Lane trained. Her aggressive style of riding would do the stables’ reputation no good whatsoever.
As they arrived, Tom’s eyes widened. He had forgotten what it was like at a big show. It was all so official, so serious. Entries were being announced over a loudspeaker. Officials were running around. There was a stand for the judges. It even smelled important. Tom felt a knot in the pit of his stomach.
A steward glanced at their car park label and waved them on their way. Nick brought the horse box to a halt under the shade of a tree and Tom jumped out of the cab. Heading to the rear of the box, he put down the ramp to let out the horses. Tom was leading out Chancey when the Land Rover pulled up next to them and Georgina jumped out.
“Give him here,” she cried, grabbing the head collar from Tom’s hand. Chancey’s eyes rolled as she yanked his head to the ring on the side of the horse box.
“I’d be careful with him if I were you, Georgina,” said Alex. “You know how jumpy he can get.”
“Nonsense. You’ve got to show them who’s boss,” Georgina argued.
“Well, let’s not spoil such a wonderful day by squabbling anyway,” said Kate sensibly. “Come on everyone, we should go and collect our entry numbers. Tom, you and Georgina had better let them know of your change of horses.”
“You’re right,” said Tom. Wandering over to the secretary’s tent, they picked up their numbers and fastened them onto their backs importantly.
“They’re huge,” said Kate laughing. “It’ll cover my whole back.”
“That’s the general idea,” said Georgina.
“I’m going to throttle her if she doesn’t shut up,” Kate muttered under her breath. “She’s such a know-all.”
Tom smiled to himself. He was used to Georgina. He wasn’t going to let her get to him...not today of all days.
“Can someone help me with my hair?” Kate mumbled, her mouth full of grips. “I can’t seem to get it all in this hair net. I wish we didn’t have to wear them.” She scrabbled about on the ground for the hair tie she had dropped.
“I probably won’t see you before the showing, Kate,” Tom laughed, making a quick escape as Rosie went to the rescue. “It’s on the other side of the ground to the jumping, so good luck.”
“You too,” she smiled.
Tom was eager to lose Georgina and quickly hurried away before she could tag along with him. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the jumps as they stretched out in front of him. It wasn’t that they were enormous, it wasn’t even that there were a lot of them, but it was a stiff course with so many difficult combinations – eleven ju
mps in all.
“Phew,” Tom gasped, the adrenaline running through his body as he thought of what lay ahead.
Tom headed back to the horse box to find that his mother and father and Georgina’s parents had arrived, and were gathered with the Sandy Lane group. Everyone was having lunch, even Georgina. Tom didn’t know how she could eat anything. He felt quite sick with nerves.
“Hi Tom,” said his Uncle Bob, holding out his hand. “Thanks for looking after Georgina’s horse for us while we’ve been away. Apparently you’ve done a fantastic job with the brute.”
Tom winced, hearing Chancey talked of in that way. Tom’s mother looked at him sympathetically. She felt bad enough as it was that Georgina had taken Chancey away from him.
“You look so smart, Tom,” she said, quickly changing the subject.
“Thanks Mum,” he said looking down at his newly-pressed jodhpurs. He winced as he stretched his shoulders. Until that moment he had forgotten that his hacking jacket, though smart, was far too small for him and extremely uncomfortable. He’d rather be wearing his old mucking-out clothes any day.
“Georgina, have you walked the course yet?” he asked distractedly, staring into the distance.
“No, don’t need to,” said Georgina, her mouth crammed full of pork pie, “I’ve seen it. Looks fine.”
“Right,” said Tom, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, I’m off to loosen up Feather. I’ll be at the collecting ring if anyone wants me. The jumping’s started.”
“Good luck, Tom,” Mrs. Buchanan called, as Tom walked over to Chancey.
“Good luck, boy,” he whispered to Chancey, pulling his ears gently. Chancey nudged him playfully, shifting his weight lazily from one foot to the other as he basked in the sun.
Then Tom made his way to Feather and carefully tacked her up. One of her plaits had come loose, so Tom quickly restitched it. Time was moving on and his butterflies were even worse now. He was sure that the horse would be able to feel the tension running through his body.
Quickly, he mounted and started to walk Feather towards the collecting ring where lots of professional-looking riders were limbering up their mounts. There were more than a hundred competitors in the open jumping class, the most popular event of the day. As Tom started to warm up Feather, Alex came riding past on Jester, a grin plastered on his face.
“Sixth,” he called. Tom was pleased for him. Sixth was pretty good at a show of this standard and he felt encouraged by the result.
“There’s hope for me yet then,” Tom yelled back as Alex trotted on towards the gymkhana events.
And then there was an announcement over the speaker that brought Tom back to earth with a jolt.
“Name change...number sixty-two, Horton Chancellor, owned by Robert Thompson, will be ridden by Georgina Thompson and number sixty-eight, Feather, owned by Sandy Lane Stables, will be ridden by Tom Buchanan,” rang out over the speaker.
Tom gritted his teeth and listened carefully to the numbers being announced. They were up to fifty-eight already. It would soon be Chancey’s turn, and Georgina wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Tom didn’t usually like to watch anyone else riding the course. But he had to watch Chancey.
Jumping off Feather, he led her to the horse box and tied her to a ring before making his way to the stands. The crowd was quiet as competitor number sixty picked his way carefully around the course, finishing well within the three minute time limit. Tom stood away from his parents. He didn’t want to hear any sympathetic noises when Georgina jumped Chancey. He was also in two minds about his feelings. He half-wanted Chancey to do well and yet he half-wanted Georgina to do badly.
Here they were now. Tom watched intently as Horton Chancellor was called into the ring and cantered a circle. Then they were off. Tom cringed as he heard the loud crack of the whip strike against Chancey’s rump. Chancey looked equally displeased and almost leapt out of his skin with fright. He threw himself over the first jump, clearing it by miles. Georgina only just managed to regain her composure in time to sit still for the shark’s teeth and the bank. They were over them, but at what a pace.
“Steady boy, steady,” Tom breathed.
But it was too late, they were charging towards the combination, and now Georgina was kicking him on. Suddenly, she tried to check Chancey as he was about to jump the parallel. Tom closed his eyes as he heard the loud rap echo around the ring, but somehow the pole stayed up. They were rushing on to the treble. Georgina shortened her reins. Tom couldn’t bear to look as Chancey struggled for his head and lurched over the three fences...clear.
She turned him stiffly towards the next jump. She wasn’t going to be so lucky this time. There wasn’t a moment for Chancey to gather impetus and, with a loud bang, he hit the gate which was sent crashing to the floor. Another loud whack resounded from Georgina’s whip as Chancey headed for the last two jumps. Chancey lunged forward for the stile and staggered over it, his hooves just clipping the top. Then he reeled onto the gate. He was over it. But by the time he was through the finish, Chancey was foaming at the mouth and looked a nervous wreck. His body was drenched in sweat. Tom turned away in disgust at the sight of her parents congratulating her as the speaker announced that competitor number sixty-two had four faults.
Tom tried to compose himself as he collected Feather, eager to forget what he had seen. He worked out that they probably had about half an hour until it was their turn. Tom mounted and turned into the collecting ring. He trotted Feather around and then, with a light nudge, took her into a gentle canter. She had a lovely loping stride, a very easy canter to ride. Gently, she glided over the post and rails that was set up as a practice jump.
“It won’t be long now,” he told her, patting her shoulder as he slowed her down. Calmly, Tom walked Feather around the ring to settle her as they awaited their turn. He could see another competitor come trotting out of the ring. All too suddenly it was upon them.
Once Tom was called into the ring, he told himself to block everything else out. They were here to do their best, and that was all they could do.
The bell rang out and they cantered to the first. Tom eased Feather over the brush, and they approached the shark’s teeth. Deftly, she sprang over it. And now it was the bank. Taking it all in her stride, she rode onto it and down the other side. Tom swung her round wide to the combination, giving her enough room to look at it. He sat tight to the saddle, determined not to make the same mistakes Georgina had. Gently, he rode Feather to the middle of the jumps, steadying her as she sailed over them. He was so light with his hands, she could hardly have known he was there. Tom was starting to enjoy himself.
Leisurely, he faced her at the treble and they soared over the three jumps in succession. Again, he swooped around in a large circle to take Feather over the gate, the stile, the wall. Touch down! There was a loud cheer from the crowd as they left the ring. Tom clapped his hand to Feather’s shoulder and buried his head in her mane.
“You were brilliant,” he mumbled.
The speaker announced the result.
“Tom Buchanan on Feather, jumping clear with no time faults.”
“Well done,” Rosie called, jumping up and down with excitement.
Tom was going to have to wait until the jump-off, so he wandered over to where his parents were watching the rest of the competitors.
“Well done, Tom,” his mother cried. She couldn’t believe how well he had ridden.
“You took your time, Tom,” Georgina sneered spitefully. “It must be easy to jump clear if you go at that snail’s pace. You’ll have to be a bit faster next time if you don’t want to be laughed out of the ring.” Tom had to bite his tongue to stop himself from being very rude. Still Georgina went on.
“Horton Chancellor and I were rather unlucky to knock that gate, weren’t we?” she said, not waiting for a reply. “He overran it rather. Still, less competition for you in the jump-off, eh?”
Tom was fuming, but he didn’t have enough time to be angry, as the voice announce
d that there were ten riders through to the jump-off and the jumps were being raised that very moment. Tom rushed forward to watch.
The course was enormous now and speed was going to be crucial. He was the fifth one in. Not as good a position as he’d had at the local show, but still better than being first. The competition seemed pretty stiff. The other riders all looked as though they had been competing for years. Tom could hardly bear to watch, never mind listen, as the riders went into the ring and the results were announced. All of the times sounded very fast. Tom didn’t have a clue what he needed to beat as he entered the ring for the second time. He would just have to go like the clappers.
“Good luck,” Rosie and Jess called from behind the rails.
Tom couldn’t hear them though. The crowd hushed as he circled Feather.
And then they were off...racing to the first as the clock began ticking its countdown. They sailed over the brush, and then raced over the shark’s teeth and soared over the bank. Feather’s black eyes gleamed and her ears were pricked as she arched her neck. Her Arab lines were clearly defined as she stretched out her stride and raced forward. All Tom could see were the fences ahead of him, all he could hear was the sound of pounding hooves. Tom turned Feather to the combination. There were no wide swoops this time. The crowd gasped at the sharpness of the turn, but Feather knew what was expected of her and didn’t even hesitate at the combination. Tom rode her at the middle of the jump, propelling her forward with his legs and she tucked her feet up under her as if the poles were hot pokers.
Again, Tom turned her immediately they touched the ground, so that there was hardly enough time for them to gather momentum. But he had judged it just right and Feather surged forward for the treble. One, two, three. Tom leant forward in the saddle as the horse found her natural take-off and swiftly cleared the fences. Now there were only three more jumps. It was all happening so quickly. Feather cantered on the spot, preparing herself for the last turn. Tom steadied her as they approached the gate. Cleared. Then they were on to the stile. Cleared. Now they were approaching the huge wall. They were over, and at what a speed!
A Horse for the Summer Page 7