Chances

by Ruth Saberton

  “Harry, I –” Kate begins but her son hasn’t finished speaking. Instead he’s looking at me and my heart, which has been lurching horribly, starts to lift because his blue eyes are crinkling.

  “As Chances’ owner I’d like to sell him to a home where I know he’ll be ridden well, treasured and not sent to market if he stops winning or the rider has a bad day,” he continues slowly. “But I’m afraid that home won’t be with you, Malcolm. Amber, Chances is yours for whatever you want to pay me. One pound or five hundred pound or a half pound cheeseburger, I really don’t care. Some things are more important than money.”

  I’ve never seen anyone’s eyes bulge quite as much as Malcolm’s do at this moment. They literally look as though they’re about to fall out of his head although to be fair though I think mine are probably doing the same.

  “How about a Haribo fried egg?” I suggest and Harry laughs.

  “Done! You know I’ll do anything for those!”

  “Are you insane?” Malcolm splutters.

  “Probably,” Harry nods. “Living with Amber has driven us all a bit demented.”

  “But that’s seven thousand pounds I’ve just offered you! It’s more money than your mother earns cleaning for me in a year!” Malcolm appeals to Kate now in his utter disbelief. “Tell the boy he’s being ridiculous!”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that because I don’t think he is being ridiculous.” Kate rises to her feet and although her voice is soft there’s no mistaking she means every word. “Harry owns the horse so it’s his decision to make and for what it’s worth I agree with him one hundred percent. Amber has made Chances what he is today and he’s her horse. Nobody else’s.”

  Malcolm’s mouth falls open. He’s not used to the word ‘no’.

  Hmm. Now I can see where Emily gets it from.

  “Now,” Kate continues calmly, “we were about to have a celebration supper and I don’t want it to spoil. So unless there’s anything else you wanted to discuss?”

  She means her job and Harry’s freelance work and the tenancy of the farm, of course. Malcolm holds all these things in the palm of his hand and he knows it too. I’m horribly aware just how much Harry and his Mum have risked themselves for me and I don’t know what to say. Why would they do that? I’ve given them nothing but trouble.

  For a moment Malcolm Lacey looks as though he’s ready to combust with rage. Then he exhales slowly and shakes his head.

  “I think my business here is done. I just hope you don’t live to regret your decision. I won’t make this offer again.”

  “I’m sure we won’t,” Kate says. “And we appreciate the offer, don’t we Harry? And we’re very grateful too. It was exceedingly generous. You are a very generous man.”

  Malcolm, wrong footed by this praise, looks from Harry to Kate in confusion. Unlike me, he can’t see she’s crossing her fingers behind her back and the wind’s well and truly taken out of his sails. Suddenly cast in the role of magnanimous landlord he has no choice but to nod and be polite. It’s neat trick on Kate’s part and I’m impressed.

  While she shows Malcolm out, I turn to Harry.

  “Why did you do that? You could have made your money back and more. You’ve lost seven thousand pounds!”

  Harry grins. “It’s worth seven grand to wind Mal up! In fact, I’d pay double!”

  “But that’s money you could have really done with,” I say. “Why did you do it? Why did you save Chances?”

  The grin slips from Harry’s face and now his blue eyes no longer teasing and crinkling, but dark a serious intensity.

  “Because it was worth every penny to make you happy,” he says softly. “That’s why, Amber. I didn’t do it for Chances. I did it for you.”

  Chapter 21

  To say I have a sinking feeling when I walk through the school gates on Monday is an understatement. Malcolm might have taken no for an answer but I’m one hundred percent sure sure Emily hasn’t. She had a big party on Saturday night – we could hear the music from the farm – and she’s probably spent the rest of the weekend plotting something nasty with her cronies. I’ve not a clue what it might be but I’m going to be on my guard and there’s no way I’ll play into her hands again by losing my temper like I did before. I’m just going to have to make sure I’m about twenty steps ahead.

  “Can I find you at break time?” Maddy asks.

  As always her small freckled face is pinched with worry and she’s glancing around the playground trying to work out if she can reach her tutor base without being tripped up. It makes me wild. Why don’t the teachers notice what’s going on? If they weren’t so busy telling people to tuck their shirts in and to put their ties on then they might actually be able to deal with the important stuff.

  “Of course you can,” I promise. “I’ve got double science in Lab 2 so how about I meet you in the canteen? We can eat our break together.”

  Maddy looks marginally more cheerful at this suggestion and we part company, her to make a run for it across the tarmac and me to dodge the rucksacks and spit in the corridors.

  For once I make it through tutorial without falling asleep. Chances is having a day off which means I’ve been able to lie in until the luxurious time of half past six. I’ve not heard from Drake since Saturday and now I don’t work at the Rectory or possess a mobile phone I’ll just have to wait for him to get in touch but I really hope Malcolm hasn’t carried out his threat to sack him as Emily’s trainer. She looks her usual smug self, sitting in the back row with her friends and every now and again they all look my way and snigger so I think it’s safe to assume it’s all business as usual.

  I sneak another glance across the classroom and Emily smiles sweetly as she draws her finger across her throat. Predictably, our tutor doesn’t catch any of this but only sees me flipping Emily a V sign, which leads to a lecture and a negative comment on my report card. Two more of these and I lose my lunch time, which is actually a blessing is disguise. I mean, how much of a punishment is it to spend lunch time with a teacher bodyguard inside the warm exclusion room rather than skulking outside and avoiding the mean girls? If it wasn’t for the fact that I know Maddy will be hoping I can spend lunch time with her, I’d be tempted to get myself into a bit more bother just in order to reserve my spot in detention.

  Anyway, it’s certainly hard work keeping my temper but I think I’m getting better at it. As the bell rings and six hundred students stampede to their lessons I actually feel quite proud of myself for being in school at all. I’m still in the wrong sets, everyone hates me and I can’t see the point but my attendance is up and Kate’s not getting any hassle. The hostel idea is still being mooted and after my re-admittance meeting Alan’s made it plain that the last chance saloon is shut for business. I can put up with Emily knowing that I’ve got Chances to talk to when I get home.

  And Drake to teach me. And the hunt ball to look forward to.

  I still can’t quite believe Harry’s turned down all that money for Chances. It’s the most generous and bonkers thing that anyone has ever done for me. I know how much he wants to go to art school and seven thousand pounds would have covered a huge chunk of his tuition and paid for somebody to help out on the farm while he was at college. To give all that up for me…

  No. Try as I might I still can’t get my head around it. To be honest I can’t quite get my head around Harry either. His mood swings make me feel giddy. He’s the kindest and the most generous person I know and I could chat away to him for hours but then he goes all quiet and odd like he did after the cross country and I may as well go and talk the the barn wall for all the sense I get out of him. I’m sure it’s because he doesn’t like me being friends with Drake but I had thought we’d managed to put that aside for the sake of my training and Chances? Seems as though I got that wrong.

  Aren’t boys complicated? Give me horses any time.

  My Monday morning begins with double science. It’s a well kept secret that Biology is my favourite subject
and, like Dogood often reminds me with that pained and weary look on her face, there was a time when I wanted to be a vet. Obviously, that’s not going to happen now because I had way too much time off school in Bristol and at Perran Community Academy they’ve dumped me in the bottom set where I spend my time colouring in pictures of cells and hoping nobody dissects the cowering supply teacher rather than actually studying. As usual I park myself in the farthest corner and focus my attention on drawing pictures of Chances in my exercise book. There’s no point trying to do much else. I’ve written my essay for the science competition, all about the physiology and fitness of an event horse, but I can hardly see the point of handing it because everyone knows supply teachers don’t do any marking. In fairness to the supply staff, most of my real teachers don’t do any marking either – they’re far too busy with crowd control.

  So I keep my head down for a couple of hours while chaos reigns all around me. I sketch Chances jumping and grazing and then I pull out a copy of the dressage test Drake has given me to learn. It’s simple enough and if I draw it out over and over again it helps me to memorize it. Maybe I’ll get up really early tomorrow and ride it before school? Drake says there’s a competition at the Duchy College in a few weeks so it could be a bit of fun. He also says there’s indoor showjumping too. There’s so much to look forward to!

  At this point the bell shrills and there’s a stampede for the door. The teacher does her best to slow it down but has no choice but to stand aside or be trampled. I put my essay on the desk on my way out but I don’t hold out any hope.

  “Oops!”

  There’s a thud as my school bag is shoved from my shoulder and tumbles onto the floor. My books, pens and lunch box spew onto the gum freckled carpet.

  “Clumsy me,” says Emily. “Didn’t see you there. You blend in so well with the dirty floor.”

  I ignore her. Count to ten, Amber. Keep your cool. Just remember who won the cross country and who owns Chances. Don’t let her get to you. Don’t let her win.

  “Here let me help.” Emily bends down and starts scooping up my belongings and stuffing them back into my bag.

  “It’s fine.” I snatch my rucksack back and she holds her hands up in mock surrender.

  “Only trying to help, gyppo. You carry on crawling about on the floor. It suits you anyway.”

  Her cronies titter and I clench my fists. I know she’s trying to provoke me. She’s hoping I’ll fly off the handle and wallop her so I’ll be sent back to Bristol and Malcolm can make another offer for Chances. Well, no way. I’ll crawl on my hands and knees all the way back to Perranview Farm if it means Chances is safe.

  I meet Maddy in the canteen and we eat our break together. It’s relatively safe here because there’s generally a teacher on duty and by the time our third lesson begins I’m feeling less tense. It’s only social education, you know the kind of lesson where teachers have to tell you about human rights and democracy, all pretty ironic really since schools aren’t big on either, and while our tutor waffles on I’m planning to take another look at the dressage test.

  Unfortunately, this is where my day goes pear shaped. Instead of our tutor, the Head of Year Eleven and the Deputy Head arrive. Both women have Very Serious Expressions on their faces and immediately a murmur of curiosity ripples through the room.

  “Good morning 11x,” says the Deputy Head. “I’m not going to keep you in suspense as to why I’m here rather than Mr. Lewis. I’m very sad to say that a serious allegation has been made.”

  There’s another half excited half nervous ripple. I stifle a yawn. What now? Bomb making? A shot gun? Or maybe even some sexting? Luckily for me I don’t think they’ve banned dressage tests yet.

  “Miss Dean and I are here to conduct a bag search,” continues the Deputy Head. She scans our faces like Robocop just in case there’s any trace of guilt lurking. “You all know how this goes. We’ll work through in register order.”

  One by one students traipse to the front of the classroom where the teachers systematically empty their school bags. A couple of mobile phones are found to be switched on and Jonny Casper has a rotting lunch box but apart from that it’s all rather dull. By the time it’s E for Evans most students have lost interest and are chatting to one another or texting under the desks but as I make my way to the front Emily Lacey is watching me closely with a triumphant smile on her face.

  Instantly my skin prickles and I see again my belongings tipped all over the corridor with Emily most uncharacteristically attempting to replace them. It seemed weird at the time but now it makes perfect sense.

  She’s set me up. What’s she planted on me?

  There’s a sharp intake of breath from my Head of Year. Glancing down I see she’s fished out a small plastic zip lock bag.

  I’m not an idiot. I know exactly what this is. In my mind’s eye I see Emily drawing her finger across her throat in registration and I think I’m going to throw up.

  I’m from a sink estate in Bristol. I’m in long term foster care. Nobody’s going to believe this is nothing to do with me. Who would anyone believe? Emily Lacey with her big innocent eyes and rich daddy or the scruffy new kid with a bad attitude and a mad mum?

  Feeling as though I’m zooming downwards in a very fast lift, I follow the teachers out of the room and to the Year Head’s office. Everything that happens next feels as though I’m watching it from a distance. Kate’s called, Alan arrives, there’s a Special Police Officer and at some point during all this I’m excluded too. While everything goes on I don’t say a word.

  What would be the point? Even Alan can hardly look at me and he’s paid to be on my side. If I tell them the truth they’ll just think it’s another example of my bullying Emily. What can I possibly do when they’ve already made up their minds I’m guilty?

  “This isn’t working,” Alan says once we’re inside the Prius. “I don’t know what to say, Amber. We’ve tried and tried with you but drugs?” He shakes his head wearily. “It might just seem like a little bit of grass to you but bringing that into school is a serious offence. Were you going to sell it?”

  The only grass I care about is green and feeds horses. I’ve never touched drugs in my life and I never will. You don’t live somewhere like the Shakespeare Estate and not realise what bad news drugs are. It’s all so unfair. I’ve helped Mum with her controlled medication for years and I hardly even touch a Nurofen when I have a headache yet instantly everyone’s happy to believe I’m selling drugs?

  “For God’s sake! This Cornwall not Columbia,” I snap and Alan sighs even more heavily.

  “Do you realise how serious this is? We’re looking a permanent exclusion, Amber, and maybe even a police prosecution. It’s not a joke.”

  Does he see me laughing?

  “So you think I did it?” I say in disbelief.

  “Did you?”

  I laugh bitterly. “If you need to ask me then what’s the point of saying anything at all?”

  “The point is that this is your future. Your GCSES are coming up and we’ll need to get you into a pupil referral unit really fast. I’ll call Annie Dowood and see if she can get on the case. She can arrange a temporary hostel placement too. You’re almost sixteen. I’m sure we can work something out.”

  “But Dogood’s in Bristol!” I cry. Cold dread washes over me. What about Chances? What about Kate and Harry? Maddy at school alone? Saffy wondering where I am? “She works in Bristol.”

  “Yes she does,” says Alan and there’s a firmness in his voice totally at odds with the silly beard and hippy smock. “And Bristol’s where you’re going. You win, Amber and you finally get your own way, so well done. We’re going to send you home. You’re going back to Bristol.”

  Chapter 22

  “I didn’t do it!”

  As soon as Alan drives away I turn to Kate in utter despair.

  “You do believe me, don’t you? I’d never, ever touch drugs. I didn’t do it!”

  Kate’s answer is to pull me
into her arms and hug me tightly. That hug says better than any words that she believes me. For a moment I almost break with relief because it’s blatantly clear neither Alan nor my teachers do. As far as they’re concerned it’s a case of the problem kid from the rough estate reverting to type and the sooner they send me back where I belong the better it will be for everyone.

  But not for me! And not for Chances!

  “Emily must have done it,” I mumble into Kate’s shoulder. “She knocked my bag off my shoulder earlier and my things went everywhere. I bet that’s when she slipped the package in.”

  Kate’s usually smiley face is deadly serious.

  “You think Emily knocked your bag off your shoulder deliberately?”

  Wow, it must be nice to inhabit that parallel universe where people don’t mean to be nasty. The look on my face must say it all because Kate then sighs heavily and shakes her head.

  “That stirrup snapping really wasn’t an accident, was it? Be honest with me, Amber! This has been going on for a while, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I admit. Like from second Emily first clapped eyes on me? She’s hated me from the moment she saw me talking to her horses and when Drake was nice it made things a million times worse. She can’t bear it that he’s my friend or that he thinks I’ve got talent. That’s what this is really all about.

  “I think it’s time you told me what’s really been going on,” Kate says. She propels me across the kitchen to sit down at the table. “And this time I want the truth, Amber. You never hit Emily, either did you? You were sticking up for yourself after weeks of being picked on.”

  I nod. Technically I was sticking up for Maddy too, of course, but I’m very aware I’ve been unwisely sworn to secrecy. What a mess. Now everyone thinks I’m a bully and a drug pusher and I bet Alan’s on his hands free right now ordering Dogood to come and get me.