by Kate Lattey
“I can’t.” I kept my eyes down as I pulled my boots on. “I’ve got to ride.”
She made an annoyed tutting noise and stepped past me, then stopped in the doorway. “Did you hear about the team yet?”
I zipped up the leather boot and forced myself to stand up straight. “I didn’t get in.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. I’m sorry.”
But she didn’t sound sorry. I’d expected her to, had expected her to be as disappointed as I was, to drop everything onto the gleaming hallway floor and give me a sympathetic hug. I’d braced myself, knowing that I could hold back the tears that were prickling the corners of my eyes in the face of Dad’s raging, but that they would spill in seconds if Mum offered me some kind of sympathy. If she’d said or done anything that wasn’t yelling or blame.
But she just seemed ambivalent, and I suddenly wondered how she’d have reacted if I had made it into the team. Would she have whooped, and punched the air, and hugged me tight? Or would she have given me the same lacklustre response that I was getting right now?
“Yeah. Oh well.”
And I went outside, leaving the front door wide open behind me.
Half an hour later, Dad found me in the stables, saddling Skip.
“I’ve called Bruce, but I had to leave a message.” I looked at him, wishing I was confused by what he meant. But I knew exactly where this was going, and sure enough, moments later he confirmed it. “This makes no sense. Why would they choose that girl instead of you? It’s politics, that’s what it is. Dirty politics, and probably money changing hands. Well, I won’t stand for it. We’re not taking this lying down. I’m going to petition them to-”
“Don’t.” I buckled Skip’s girth as he tore at the haynet I’d given him to keep him quiet. “Just leave it, okay? It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters! How can you say it doesn’t matter?”
Skip stopped chewing and looked at us anxiously, so I turned and walked towards the tack room with Dad on my heels. My pony didn’t need to be yelled at any more than I did, but at least I could get him out of the firing line. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and neither had I. We weren’t the ones to blame. But it was about time that Dad realised that.
“This is your fault, you know.”
Dad stared at me, his mouth half-open in shock. “Excuse me?”
“They were never going to pick me, but not because of me, and not because I can’t ride. Because of you.” He crossed his arms over his chest, but I pushed on. “You’d ruined my chances before we even got the forms in when you picked that stupid argument with Lily and her dad at Nationals.”
Dad sputtered, affecting disbelief. “What, that debacle at the practice fence? That was nothing!”
“Wrong. It was everything. Lily was in the right that day, and you weren’t. But nobody wanted to fight with you, because they knew you wouldn’t back down, even when you were wrong. You thought you won, but you didn’t. You lost that day.” I picked up Skip’s bridle and untwisted the reins. “You lost for us both.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” he snapped, still in denial.
“No, I’m being honest,” I replied. I stared at the faded rosettes on the wall behind him, unable to look at the anger on his face while I said what I’d been waiting for years to say. “Someone told me recently that I don’t have to sit there and take life as it comes. That I can stand up and go after what I want. So here’s what I want. I want you to back off and stop trying to bully everyone, because you’re no better than anyone else and I’m not going to be dragged down with you.” I pulled my eyes to meet his. “Not anymore.”
“That is enough,” Dad said, his voice deepening to a growl. “You need to watch your mouth.”
“Why? What are you going to do, disown me too?”
I hadn’t meant to say that, hadn’t even known the words would be there. They’d just slipped out, but the furious look on Dad’s face almost confirmed my fears. For a moment, I wondered if he might really do it. If he would be able to wake up in the morning and know that he’d thrown both of his children out of his life. If he would be able to live with that. I didn’t know the answer, but I knew one thing for sure – that the very thought of it terrified me. My father and I didn’t always see eye to eye, but the threat of abandonment was suddenly very real. I felt myself start to shake, felt the tears gathering in the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill.
“I would never do that,” Dad said, his voice quieter than I’d expected it to be.
I looked at him again as I wiped my eyes and saw the sorrow in his eyes. I wanted so badly to believe him.
“Wouldn’t you?” I asked. “Why not? You did it once already.”
He clenched his teeth together, and sucked in a breath around them, visibly holding his temper by a thread. “What do you want from me?”
So many things. I went with the one that was currently at the front of my mind. “I want you to let Pete come home.”
Dad scoffed. “You think that’d improve public opinion?”
“I don’t care. I don’t care what other people say.”
“And if he doesn’t want to come back?”
I leaned against the saddle rack on the wall, feeling the metal dig into my back. Not caring. My voice trembled as I spoke. “You could ask.”
Dad looked away from me, arms tightly crossed over his chest as he looked out into the aisle. “I think he’s made up his mind.”
You mean you have. I gave up. “Fine. Ignore him, abandon him, pretend he never existed. But in case you haven’t noticed, you’re on the verge of losing Mum too.”
Words I never thought I’d say out loud were just tumbling out of me, and Dad’s eyes snapped back to mine. I’d expected shock, outrage, anger in his eyes. But I saw something completely different.
Defeat.
It was as though he already knew. He knew that she was going to leave him. She’d talked about it a few months ago, moving us back to South Africa and leaving Dad here. I’d dug my heels in, and Dad had apologised, and things had gone back to normal for a while. But the resurrection of her interior design career hadn’t been a spurious decision. She’d found her independence at last. I would’ve been happier for her if I wasn’t so sure it involved leaving us behind.
Because I already knew that if Mum really did leave, if she really did go back to South Africa, she would be going alone. I couldn’t leave. I belonged here, and I was staying.
No matter what.
CHAPTER TEN
~ RUMOUR HAS IT ~
“Susannah!”
I turned to see AJ waving at me from outside a café on Emerson Street. I smiled and made my way over to her and her brother Anders, who greeted me with an unenthusiastic nod. He was sitting in a wheelchair, one leg stretched out in front of him in a heavy cast, and he looked tired. The sun was beating down relentlessly as the heatwave we were experiencing showed no signs of stopping. Anders shifted uncomfortably in the wheelchair as I sat down next to AJ with a smile.
“Hi, how’s it going?”
“Not bad, not bad. Just ignore Grumpy McGee over there,” she told me firmly. “He’s having a bad day.”
Anders shot her a dirty look. “Do you wanna swap places?”
“Nope. And no matter how many times you ask me that, my answer’s not gonna change. If you’re going to sit there sulking, I’m going to ignore you and talk to someone I actually like. So,” AJ said, turning to face me. “What brings you out into this booming metropolis?”
I looked around us, at the nikau palms that lined the brick-paved street, which shimmered under the buffeting heat. Napier, the art deco capital of New Zealand. A rather dubious claim to fame, but one that the city has long been proud of. The annual festival was coming up, and would bring an influx of tourists into the region. But for now, it was still fairly quiet on the main streets.
“Shopping,” I told AJ. “Well, trying to, anyway. I’m not having much luck.”
She stirr
ed the remnants of her iced coffee with her straw, and raised her eyebrows at me. “Shopping for what?”
“A dress,” I admitted. “I’ve got this party that I’m supposed to be going to tonight, and I realised this morning that I have nothing to wear.”
AJ couldn’t stop her eyes from reflexively scanning me, her expression dubious. “Really? But you always have the nicest clothes.”
I felt myself blush as Anders turned his head to look at me as well. “Riding clothes, sure. Party clothes, not so much.”
“Well I’m not sure AJ is your go-to advice person for party clothes,” Anders informed me. “Don’t think she’s ever seen a dress in her life, let alone put one on.” AJ lifted the straw out of her iced coffee and flicked it in his direction. A glob of whipped cream landed on his cheek, but he just wiped it off and licked it from his finger before continuing to talk to me. “Whose party is it?”
“Callie Taylor’s.”
He frowned for a moment, then shook his head. “Don’t know her.”
AJ feigned astonishment. “Someone in the Hawke’s Bay that you don’t know? Alert the media.”
“Just because you don’t have any friends outside of that pony of yours,” Anders replied, his mood lightening as we spoke. “Don’t judge people for their choices.”
“I’m not judging people,” AJ told him. “Just you.”
“It doesn’t really matter,” I said, trying to get them back on track. “I might not go anyway. I’ve got the vet coming at three, so it kind of depends on what she says about Buck whether I’ll even be in the mood.”
“Oh right!” AJ said guiltily, giving me an anxious look. “How’s he doing?”
I shrugged, the thought of Buck taking some of the shine off the day. “He’s improving, but slowly. We’re still not sure what caused any of it, or whether he’ll ever be able to be ridden again.” I didn’t say anything about strangles. I was terrified to even mention it in case word spread, and people started blaming me for starting an epidemic. The first swab test had come back terrifyingly inconclusive, and the results of the second one were still a few days away.
“That sucks, I’m sorry,” AJ said commiseratively.
She sucked the last remnants of her drink up the straw noisily, and Anders rolled his eyes at me, cracking a small smile. Despite my mood, I smiled back at him. I couldn’t blame Katy for having a crush on him, no matter how much it irritated AJ that her best friend was into her brother. He really was gorgeous, and he seemed like a nice guy.
But then, didn’t they all?
“Anders!”
Our heads all swivelled to see a pair of pretty teenage girls coming in our direction, their focus riveted on AJ’s older brother. They completely ignored me and AJ as they seated themselves around Anders and started chattering to him as though we weren’t even there.
I raised my eyebrows at AJ, who pulled a face. “Can’t take him anywhere,” she said ruefully. “It’s what happens when you have too many friends.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I admitted, glancing back at the girls, who were sitting as close to Anders as possible and unabashedly flirting with him. I was still in two minds over whether to go to Callie’s party tonight. It was so far outside of my comfort zone, but if I wanted to make new friends, I had to put myself out there. Right?
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
I looked back at AJ. “Sure.”
She leaned across the table towards me, lowering her voice. Her expression was serious, and I had a prickling sense of foreboding even before she spoke.
“Is it true about you and Connor?”
Despite the stifling heat of the day, a cold sweat broke over my skin at the mention of his name. More than anything, I wished I could stop myself reacting that way.
“Is what true, exactly?” I was relieved that my voice sounded calm and didn’t betray my emotions.
“It’s just something that Katy said that Anna told her.” AJ looked a little embarrassed to be repeating third-hand information, but she was clearly very curious. “That you hooked up with Connor at Nationals.”
“What’s it to you if I did?” The words escaped before I could even consider what I was saying. Maybe I should’ve denied it – did anyone know, other than the two of us? Well, obviously Anna knew. Or did she? My head was spinning, and I fought hard to maintain my outward calm.
AJ looked taken aback. “Nothing, I just… Anna was just riled up about it, that’s all. And Katy said she was being ridiculous, because Connor, well because he hates you, that’s what she said anyway. But I kept thinking about how awkward things got when he turned up at Katy’s truck at Taihape and I just wondered, that’s all. I’m sorry, I’m being nosy. It’s a flaw.”
I glanced over at Anders, still being drooled over by the group of now four girls who surrounded him. How come he was that good-looking and still seemed like a decent guy, when someone like Connor went around acting like he was God’s gift to the universe?
“What’s it got to do with Anna, anyway?” I clutched at that straw, hoping to deflect the conversation onto someone else before I ended up spilling the beans.
“Apparently she’s had a thing going with Connor for a while,” AJ said conspiratorially, leaning forward and talking quickly, relishing the opportunity to gossip. “They’ve been hooking up at all the shows, but then he ditched her at Nationals and disappeared, and then he said you’d been all over him, and…”
I cut her off there, my anger rising. “First of all, he was the one who was all over me. And second, she can keep him.” I stood up, my legs shaking under me. “I have to go.”
AJ stood up too, looking concerned. Anders and his friends were staring at us now, but I didn’t care. Let them look. AJ stepped closer and lowered her voice.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought you should know that there are some rumours going around, that’s all.”
My throat was dry and sticky. “What rumours?”
“Well…” AJ avoided eye contact with me, staring at my shoulder as she spoke. “That you slept with him and now you keep texting him all the time, and trying to hook up with him again. Which obviously isn’t true,” she added, glancing up and catching the look on my face. “But I thought I should tell you what people are saying.” I could tell by her expression that she was regretting saying anything.
I was regretting hearing it. My jaw was clenched so tight that it hurt, but I couldn’t force it to relax. I took a breath, tried to stay calm.
“Of course it’s not true. And you can tell Anna that I wouldn’t touch Connor again with a ten foot pole. She’s welcome to him, if she’s dumb enough to want him.”
AJ put her hand on my upper arm, looking worried. “Is everything okay? Did something-”
I cut her off before she could ask that question. I didn’t want to lie, and I didn’t want to talk about it. Certainly not in the middle of a crowded street.
“I’m fine,” I told her. “Just came to my senses, that’s all. And I really have to go. I’ve got the vet coming, so…”
“Yeah, of course. Take care of yourself.” AJ looked like she wanted to hug me, but I stepped back, building my walls back up. I didn’t want to cry in public, and I was scarily close to it right now.
“You too. Bye.”
“How’s our patient doing?”
I put a hand on Buck’s neck and we stood together as Lesley strode towards us across the brittle grass. It still hadn’t rained, and the unusually hot weather had gone beyond being a novelty and was rapidly turning into a drought.
“He’s okay,” I told Lesley when she reached my side. “Seems to be getting better in the evenings, but he’s worse during the day.”
“He won’t be loving the heat,” she agreed, setting her kit down at her feet and holding out a hand to Buck to sniff.
He obliged, his ears pricked warmly forward as he greeted her like an old friend. Despite the needles she’d stuck into his neck and the tubes she’d
slid down his nostrils these past few days, he didn’t hold a grudge. I counted myself lucky to have a pony as forgiving as him.
Lesley threaded her stethoscope into her ears and listened to Buck’s heartbeat as he breathed in and out. His sides expanded and contracted heavily, and I watched with a concerned frown, counting his breaths.
“Heartrate is down to forty-two, which is an improvement,” she told me. “I don’t suppose you know his regular resting heartrate?” I shook my head. “Probably a good thing to check out with your other ponies. Resting heartrates can vary greatly between horses.”
“Anything from twenty-eight to forty beats per minute,” I said.
“That’s right. Learn your ponies’ resting heart rates, then you’ll be able to keep an eye on any changes more easily. You know where to take a pulse?”
I nodded, placing two fingers against the artery under Buck’s jaw.
“That’s the one. You learn that at Pony Club?”
I shook my head. I’d never been to Pony Club – my parents had considered it to be beneath us. “No. I just…learned it. From books and YouTube and stuff.” I shrugged under her curious expression. “I wanted to be a vet for a while.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Not anymore?”
“I’m not sure,” I replied. “Sounds like it’s a lot of work.”
“Can’t deny that,” Lesley agreed. “Competitive to get into, hard work while you’re studying and even harder once you’re in practice. But it’s incredibly rewarding. You should consider it.”
“Maybe.” I watched as she put the stethoscope buds back into her ears and started listening to Buck’s lungs. She took her time, shifting the end of the stethoscope back and forth across his ribs and at the base of his trachea, then looked at me. “Want a listen?”
“Um, sure.” I took the hot pink stethoscope from her and inserted the buds into my ears. Lesley took Buck’s lead rope and stroked his head gently. “Where do I listen?”
“Between the ribs is the best place.” She reached over and guided my hand, placing it halfway along Buck’s ribcage. “Start there. Tell me what you hear.”