I had never ridden in so large a show before. I cursed myself for entering without reading the front of the schedule and found myself longing for the small, cosy gymkhanas at which I had competed so often on Moonlight, where the first prize was ten pounds and everyone knew everyone else.
But now my parents and Angus and the Millers had arrived. “Some show,” shouted Wendy.
“Phantom looks great, and so do you,” called Pete, no doubt trying to make up for the unpleasantness of the evening before. They looked very American, and I think quite a few people immediately decided I was American, too.
“If you think Phantom’s going in that stadium you’re even nuttier than I ever imagined,” Mr Miller told me.
I shrugged my shoulders. Secretly I agreed with him – it seemed impossible that Phantom would ever canter round the green turf with people watching on all sides – but I wasn’t going to let Mr Miller know. I was determined to keep up the pretence of being able to do it till the last minute of defeat.
Dad patted Phantom and said quietly, “Don’t let us down, Jean. Ride as though our lives depended on it.”
The winner of the fourteen-and-under jumping was coming out of the ring with a cup in her hand. If only it was over, I thought, if only I could go home and bury my head in some sand and never see the Millers again.
Pete pulled up my girth. “You were sure right about the spoons,” he said. “You’ve got plenty and they’re all silver.”
But now the spoons didn’t matter any more. The whole of the evening before was trivial compared with what was going on in the ring, for now men were putting up the jumps. There were eleven of them and they were going up to three foot six at least.
“You look a bit green,” said Angus, glancing at me with a nervous smile lurking behind his eyes. “Shall I lead him up to the entrance when the moment comes?”
“If you like.” I felt indifferent, somehow removed from it all now. I think that I simply couldn’t face the suspense any more and had temporarily switched off some part of myself.
“They are calling you into the collecting ring,” Mum told me. “All the luck in the world, darling.”
She was wearing a cotton suit and sling-back sandals.
“The same from here,” cried Mrs Miller. “And don’t you go worrying about Charlie’s bet. Heavenly day, we don’t expect you to pay five hundred dollars.”
“I won’t pay because I’m going in. But anyway, I always pay my debts.”
Brave words! They seemed to come from a long way off. It wasn’t really me speaking, but someone else, some ancestor braver than myself speaking for me.
I told the collecting-ring steward my number. It was thirteen.
“Thirteen!” shouted Wendy. “Gee whizz!”
Angus held Phantom while I walked the course. Surveying the jumps I felt sicker every second. There was a terrible combination of three, an enormous wall, a spread of parallel bars which seemed wider than any jump I had ever imagined and, finally, a water jump. If it wasn’t for the five hundred dollars I would be happy to remain outside, I thought, mounting again.
“Some jumps,” Wendy said. “They sure look big – like Madison Square Garden.”
I started to talk to Phantom. “We are going in there,” I said. “It isn’t a corral, there’s nothing to worry about. Look, ponies are going in and coming out without any trouble; there’s nothing to it.” People were looking at me now but I ignored them. Phantom cocked an ear back and listened. I can’t remember all I said, I just continued in the same voice, talking and stroking his neck.
Angus pulled off his tail bandage. “You’re next,” he said. “Good luck.”
The collecting steward said, “Ready? All right, go in, but wait for the bell.”
I could see the crowd in tiers of seats round the ring. Mr Miller was out there somewhere watching, so were Mum and Dad. Phantom was walking forward now, calmly, his neck arched. He played with his bit and dropped his nose and suddenly we were in the ring, trotting round waiting for the bell, and all my fear had gone, to be replaced by a feeling of immense confidence.
I prayed for the bell to ring soon and it did. I closed my legs against Phantom’s sides and we were cantering towards the first jump. Phantom slowed down and for one terrible moment I thought he was going to refuse, something he had never done before. Then it was behind us and we were cantering towards the next fence, a road-closed sign, and now he was taking over. He didn’t hesitate. In midair he seemed to kick his hind legs even higher and then we were racing on towards the parallel bars. After that came the wall, the gate, the fearsome combination where he took off too early for the last fence and scraped the top and there was an “Oh” from the crowd, but it didn’t fall. There were crossbars and a stile and another jump I hardly noticed, then there was only one more jump now before the water. I slowed him down a little and then we were over that too, racing towards the water. Don’t let go yet, Jean, I thought, you’re nearly clear, steady, steady, and then we were over and from the stands came a tremendous burst of clapping and I fell forward on Phantom’s neck, patting him and saying over and over again, “We’ve done it.”
“You’re the only clear round so fai;” cried Angus, rushing to meet me.
“It was great,” cried Pete. “You’ve won the bet.”
“Gee, Pete, as if she doesn’t know,” cried Wendy.
A voice quite near said, “They’re Americans. They must have come over specially. I bet she ends up jumping for the United States.”
“Actually I’m English,” I said, turning round. “These are my friends from America. If I jump for any country it will be England.”
They looked embarrassed.
“There’s a jump-off,” Dad said. “Well done, Jean.”
Mr Miller held out an envelope. “It’s yours, Jean,” he told me. “You’ve sure earned it.”
I didn’t know what to say. At last I managed, “It’s too much. You’ve done so much for us already.”
“Exactly,” agreed Dad, trying to push away his hand.
“I pay my debts,” replied Mr Miller. “This girl was prepared to sell her necklace to pay hers. I sure don’t have to.”
“Please don’t, Charlie,” pleaded Mum.
“Take it, Jean,” said Mr Miller, pushing it into my hand. “And don’t ever let it be said that Virginians don’t pay their gambling losses.” “They are putting up the jumps,” Angus said. “You’ll be going first in the jump-off.”
I rode in with the five hundred dollars in my pocket for luck. Phantom danced a little and looked at the crowds, as though this time he knew they were there watching him. Then the bell sounded and we were cantering towards the first fence and as he jumped I suddenly knew what I would spend the money on – a horse for Angus, who was standing in the wings watching, a stable rubber in his hand.
Phantom knocked the next fence, probably because my mind wasn’t with him, for at that moment I was seeing a new horse coming to live at Sparrow Cottage.
The course was six inches higher except for the water jump which remained the same, but I didn’t notice it. We went faster this time and Phantom raced over the combination with a tremendous flourish as if to make up for rapping a fence last time. And now once again we were racing for the water, and I sensed the tenseness of the crowd, the sudden hushed silence, which was quiet enough to let me hear the drone of an aeroplane overhead. Phantom took off too early, but it didn’t matter for he had no intention of getting his hoofs wet. There was a burst of applause and I knew we were clear. I put my reins in one hand and, cantering out, I could hear a train and Angus yelling, “Well done.”
This time Miss Mackintosh was there to greet me too. “What an achievement!” she cried. “Well done, Jean.”
I leaped off to find oats in my pockets for Phantom. The other clear round was going in now – a boy on a chestnut as lean as himself. “Don’t hurry him, let him look,” said his mother, small and plump in dark glasses.
“It was a p
ity you hit the second fence,” said Miss Mackintosh. “What happened?”
I remembered that she had always been keen on post-mortems. “I was thinking of something else,” I said.
She made a tut-tutting noise.
The sun was shining on us all now and I longed to take off my coat. We could not see the whole ring, but someone said, “He’s over the first three clear.”
Angus started twisting the stable rubber into knots and biting his nails. A voice said, “Is your horse for sale? Because if he is, I would like to make an offer.”
I shook my head and turned to see a man running his sharp eyes over Phantom. “I’ll give you four thousand.”
“I’m afraid he’s not for sale. I’m keeping him for ever,” I said.
“He’s hit the combination, he’s stopped, the boy’s fallen off,” shouted Angus. “You’ve won!”
The Millers were running down the steps from the stands. The boy was coming out leading his chestnut. Angus was jumping up and down.
“Number twenty-five has been eliminated,” announced the loudspeaker.
Angus pulled up my girth. Dad started stroking Phantom’s neck. Mum said, “You’ve won.”
Pete said, “Holy smoke! I never knew he could jump like that. You wait till I tell them back home.”
“They won’t believe you,” I replied, suddenly seeing the valley again in my imagination – the parched earth, the mountains in the distance, the Millers’ house, the people saying, “Sure, but we don’t believe you. That little horse will never make good, no sirree.”
“Oh yes they will,” answered Pete. “I’ve got it all here real good. I brought my camera. I’ll be sending the pictures to the newspapers, so I’ll let the whole of Virginia know.”
I wanted to say, “You’re fantastic,” but at that moment the loudspeaker announced, “Will the following numbers come into the ring: Number thirteen, Miss Jean Simpson on Phantom …”
I was riding in now and somewhere a band was playing. Phantom danced and tossed his head and I kept remembering the first time I had seen him galloping wild and alone across the moonlit valley. It all seemed to have happened years ago. I halted in the centre of the ring and the boy on the chestnut stopped beside me, and the band was still playing and the sun still shining and it was one of those golden moments which you never forget.
Everything seemed possible now: jumping for England; riding at Madison Square Garden in New York; doing the American circuit; all the big shows in the United States and Canada – Toronto, Montreal. We were cantering round and I could see the Millers and Mum and Dad and Angus waiting outside, and nothing mattered but the feel of the turf beneath us and Phantom’s effortless canter which felt as though it could last for ever, through countless rings, round Badminton, through days and days of hunting, for half my life at least.
MORE PHANTOM HORSE ADVENTURES
We hope you enjoyed this Phantom Horse ebook. You can discover more of Jean and Angus’s exciting adventures with Phantom, their beloved palomino horse, by following the link below.
View the catalogue and buy Phantom Horse ebooks online.
1. Phantom Horse
I gazed in wonder at the view. Suddenly I saw something moving below us. It was a horse, riderless and alone. He moved beautifully and with tremendous grace. It was a wild palomino.
After Jean’s family moves to America, her life is soon changed forever when she encounters the wild horse, Phantom.
2. Phantom Horse Comes Home
“I’m not going to leave without Phantom! I refuse to leave!”
When Jean learns that her family is soon to move back to England, all she can think about is Phantom, the wild palomino horse she has tamed. Will she have to leave him behind?
3. Phantom Horse Disappears
“You’re fools! Why couldn’t you leave things as they were? Why did you come here?”
When Jean and Angus discover the terrible secret of Aunt Mary’s house, they are caught up in a dangerous plot to kidnap their beloved horse, Phantom.
4. Phantom Horse in Danger
I imagined Phantom twisting, kicking, rearing, ropes round his quarters, a blindfold over his eyes. The thought sent tears running down my cheeks like rain.
When their horses are in mortal danger, Jean and Angus hatch a desperate plan to save them. Will they be in time?
5. Phantom Horse – Island Mystery
The idyllic island where Jean takes Phantom with her on holiday hides a dangerous mystery. Why have most of the inhabitants left, and why are horses being secretly flown to the island?
When Jean is plunged into another perilous adventure, can Phantom save her?
6. Phantom Horse Wait for Me
“Jean, darling, there’s no point locking yourself in your room. It won’t bring Phantom back …”
When Phantom goes missing, little does Jean suspect that her horse is the bait in a plot to capture her. In a race for their lives, will they escape in time?
COMING SOON
The Pullein-Thompson Treasury of Horse and Pony Stories
by Josephine, Christine and Diana Pullein-Thompson
(Available February 2012)
A bumper collection of 38 stories by the world's best-known horse storytellers. Packed with exciting adventures on horseback, and illustrated throughout.
Phantom Horse 2: Phantom Horse Comes Home Page 10