by Stacy Gregg
James sighed. “I better go,” he told Georgie and he walked off towards the far side of the field, leaving Kennedy, Tori and Arden behind.
The showjumperettes stood there, staring haughtily at Georgie and the others who were finishing their stomping game.
“You’re not stomping divots,” Alice pointed out to them.
Tori pulled a face. “These shoes are Roberto Cavalli. You don’t stomp in Roberto Cavalli.”
Isabel and Mitty came over to join the others. Kennedy took one look at Isabel’s dress, a white cotton shift with embroidered flowers around the neckline, and laughed.
“Hey, Heidi,” she giggled. “Lost your goat herd?”
Tori and Arden sniggered and poor Isabel looked really upset. She had told Georgie and the other girls that morning that this was her favourite dress and thather mum had made it especially for her to take away to school.
Georgie thought fast. “I can’t believe you don’t realise, Kennedy,” she said airily. “That’s a Mikkel Van Meester dress. Totally cool. There was one on the cover of Vogue last month. Didn’t you see it?”
Kennedy frowned. “I don’t remember that.”
“Ohhh!” Arden said. “I’ve heard of Mikkel Van Meester!” She cast an admiring gaze at Isabel’s white smock. “It’s amazing! You’re so lucky.”
Kennedy still looked suspicious. Georgie could tell that she’d be getting her stack of Vogue magazines out when she was back at Alberta House that evening, but right now the head of the showjumperettes didn’t want to look uncool.
“Yeah, it’s cute,” Kennedy had to concede. She turned to Arden and Tori. “Come on, let’s go get something to drink.”
As the showjumperettes wobbled off across the grass in their high heels, Isabel looked at Georgie with total gratitude. “Thanks for making up that stuff about my dress and sticking up for me,” she said.
“It was nothing,” Georgie said.
“No,” Isabel replied. “It was something. It really was.”
On Monday in the dining hall Georgie was just sitting down with Alice, Mitty and Isabel, when Kennedy walked over with her tray and slapped it down on the table with a face like thunder.
“Do you want to sit with us?” Mitty asked innocently.
Kennedy gave a hollow laugh. “Do I look like I want to catch loser flu?” she said. Then she narrowed her eyes at Georgie. “Very funny. Your little joke on Saturday? I’ve looked through all my back issues of Vogue. There is no Mikkel Van Meester.”
The whole table looked up and they all began to giggle. Kennedy’s expression grew even darker. “I don’t know what you’re laughing at,” she snapped. “Especially you, Parker. Cross-country class is this afternoon and you are the biggest loser. When the mid-term exam comes I’ll be the one laughing and you’ll be gone. Game over.”
Tara Kelly was in a brisk mood as she met the riders out on the novice cross-country course. “We only have two classes left before the exam,” she told the eventers, “and we have lots of ground to cover. Today, we’re going to focus on one of the most technical elements on the cross-country course.” She paused. “We’re going to be jumping the coffin.”
“Geez,” Alice groaned. “Did Dracula name these jumps or what? Whose creepy idea was it to call a fence the coffin?”
“It’s because the ditch at the bottom is low in the ground and narrow like a coffin,” Cam told her. “They’re a really common cross-country jump.”
“Have you ever jumped one?” Alice asked.
“No,” Cam admitted. “But it can’t be that bad.”
Neither of them had noticed the look on Georgie’s face. When Tara told them they’d be jumping the coffin she had turned as white as a sheet. That was the jump that Ginny Parker had fallen at on that fateful day at Blenheim.
Georgie knew that Boudicca had somehow lost her footing coming down the bank and flipped into the ditch with Ginny Parker underneath her. Now, Georgie was facing a similar obstacle, mounted up on a mare that had hardly any brakes and liked to gallop her fences.
“You must not gallop this fence.” It was as if Tara Kelly was reading her mind.
“Coffins are a complex obstacle and require precision riding,” Tara told the class. “It is vital that you stay in canter and give your horse time to look at the jump and negotiate the three elements. Clear the log, then your horse will put in two strides down the bank, pop over the ditch and do two more strides back up the bank, over the next log and out the other side. It’s vital to get your timing right and maintain your speed. Get it wrong and break into a gallop and you’ll be in big trouble.”
“Georgie?” It was Cam. He could see how terrified Georgie was and he looked really worried about her. “Are you OK?”
Georgie took a deep breath. “I’m fine,” she insisted.
“Mr Fraser!” Tara called out. “Since you’re obviously so clever that you can chat to other riders instead of paying attention to the lesson, I think we’ll have you through first please!”
Tara watched as Cameron circled Paddy around and prepared to tackle the jump.
“No galloping remember, Mr Fraser. A slow impulsive canter is required. Keep your horse collected underneath you, give him time to look at the jump.
“Too fast!” Tara told Cameron as he came towards the first element. Paddy clearly wanted to bowl at the jump in his normal fashion but Cameron managed to check the big cob just a couple of strides out from the fence then let him go again. Paddy flew the first log, took two neat strides, popped the ditch and then put in two more strides uphill and back out over the second log.
“Textbook stuff, Cameron,” Tara said. “I hope everybody was watching that carefully because that is how I expect all of you to handle this obstacle. I cannot repeat enough that you mustn’t rush this fence. It is tempting on a cross-country course to let our horse stay in a gallop over jumps to make better time and indeedsome fences can be taken at a gallop. The coffin is not one of them!”
Kennedy Kirkwood was up next. She rode Versace in a perfect straight line and took the log in a forward stride, then down and over the coffin and up the other side, making the whole jump look effortless. She had a smug look on her face as she pulled up in front of the others–as if to say “beat that”.
Alex and Nicholas followed after that and went through with no trouble. Alice had a moment’s hesitation at the first log and Isabel and Mitty both had refusals the first time but Tara made them try again and they were soon confidently riding all three elements. Then came the three riders on school horses. Both Matt and Emily did surprisingly well, considering neither of them were really accustomed to their mounts. Matt was actually bragging about this to Nicholas until Tara overheard him and put him in his place.
“You’ve had a week now with Tigerland,” she said coolly. “Mark Todd only had two hours on Horton Point before he rode him at the Badminton Horse Trials and won it. I think managing your way over a novicecross-country fence hardly rivals his achievements.”
Then it was Georgie’s turn. “When you’re ready, Miss Parker, can we have you through?” Tara called out.
Georgie thought she was going to throw up. She had never felt quite so ill about taking a jump in her life.
“Georgie,” Tara seemed to sense her hesitation, “I want to see some positive riding here. Don’t stand off too much because if she jumps long you’ll end up with the wrong striding coming into the ditch.”
As she turned Belladonna and cantered the mare back around towards the first log, Georgie tried to keep all of this in her head. She tried to ride ‘positively’, but fear was overriding her system, driving out any rational thought and replacing it with mind-numbing terror. Belladonna meanwhile could see the log ahead and she surged forward, breaking out of a canter into a gallop.
Georgie gave a hard tug back on the reins and sat up but it didn’t make any difference. Belladonna was galloping and showing no signs of slowing down. Georgie completely lost it. Convinced they were goingto crash,
she could see only one solution. She needed to bail out.
Hauling with all her strength at the left rein she pulled Belladonna off course, intentionally dragging the mare from her line, swerving away from the jump. With the eyes of all the other riders on her, Georgie pulled the mare up to a halt and then turned and came back to face Tara Kelly.
“What went wrong?” Tara asked her.
“I had to pull her off,” Georgie replied. “There was no way she could take it at a gallop.”
Tara looked disappointed at this response. “You could have easily checked her back to canter before the jump. You had plenty of time. Try again, and this time keep her at a steady canter from well out and use lots of right rein to correct her in case she goes to the left again.”
“No,” Georgie said. Her face was white with terror and her eyes were teary. She gave them a hasty wipe and shook her head. “I’m not doing it.”
“What?” Tara wasn’t accustomed to students talking back. “Georgie, you can’t let the mare get away withthis or she’ll learn bad habits. You have to take this jump again right now.”
“No, I don’t. And don’t bother to tell me some story about what Mark Todd did at Badminton because my mum took this jump at Blenheim and she never came home. So don’t lecture me about what I should do because I don’t care!” Georgie shouted. “I’m out.”
The whole class watched in disbelief as Georgie cantered off, heading back towards the stables.
Georgie was shaking as she rode Belladonna back. She had never lost her nerve like that before. It was hard to explain but she knew in her heart that there was no way she could have taken the jump. As she rode across the fields, she took one last look around the stately grounds of the academy. It was a farewell of sorts. She wasn’t going to be riding here ever again, because Georgie Parker had made her mind up. She wasn’t just leaving Tara’s class. She was leaving Blainford.
Back at the dorm room, Georgie dragged both her suitcases out from beneath the bed and began to emptyher clothes out of the wardrobe. She had already filled one case and started on the next when Alice arrived.
“This is crazy,” Alice said. “You’re leaving school?”
“There’s no reason to stay.” Georgie threw a T-shirt into her suitcase. “I’m at the bottom of the class. If I don’t go then Tara will just kick me out anyway after the exams.”
“So what if you fail eventing? Just swap to another class!” Alice said. “There’s no need to go all drama queen and quit school!”
“OK, so if I stay and fail eventing then what subject do you suggest I fill my new timetable with?” Georgie shot back. “Grooming and plaiting? I came to Blainford to be an eventing rider and if I can’t do that then there’s no reason to be here.”
Alice had no comeback. She knew she would feel the same way. “I wish you weren’t doing this,” she said as she helped Georgie to pick up a T-shirt that had gone flying in her mad packing frenzy. “I thought we were going to be, like, best friends.”
“I know,” Georgie said softly, “me too. I guess some things just don’t work out the way you want.”
Georgie couldn’t face dinner that evening. How could she tell her friends that she was going to be the first one to fail Tara’s class?
“Can you tell Cam and everyone else goodbye for me once I’m gone?” Georgie had asked.
Alice reluctantly agreed that she would. Tomorrow, Georgie would call Dr Parker so he could arrange the details with Mrs Dubois. Her dad would no doubt be thrilled that she wanted to come home and Georgie would be on the next flight back to England.
There was just one more goodbye that she needed to do before she left. And so that evening, while everyone else made their way up the driveway to dinner, Georgie waited and then set off towards the stables.
As she walked down the corridor towards Belladonna’s stall, she was thinking how different things could have been if only she had brought Tyro with her. He would have been a superstar in the cross-country class. But Belladonna was headstrong and difficult, and Georgie simply never clicked withher the way she had with the black Connemara.
Belladonna heard Georgie’s footsteps in the corridor and stuck her head over the Dutch door to nicker a greeting. The mare was so like Boudicca, with those deep expressive eyes and that white heart marking on her forehead. Beautiful to look at, she thought, but just like Boudicca–impossible and dangerous to ride.
“Georgina?” She heard footsteps and a voice behind her in the corridor and turned round to see Tara Kelly standing there.
“Why aren’t you at dinner?” Tara asked.
“Not hungry,” Georgie shrugged.
Tara looked at her. “I was hoping we’d have a chance to talk after you stormed out of my class today.”
“I didn’t. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I just couldn’t do it any more,” Georgie said. She took a deep breath. “I’m going to quit the class. I’m going to leave the academy and go home. I don’t think I’m cut out to be an eventing rider after all.”
Tara’s face fell. “Are you serious? This is a very big decision you’re making. Have you really thought this through?”
Georgie nodded. “Blainford’s not what I expected it to be. I always wanted to come here and be a really great eventing rider like Mum.” she trailed off. It was too painful to say the rest. Kennedy had it right–Georgie wasn’t good enough to be here. She was out of her depth.
Tara unbolted the stable door and gestured for Georgie to come back out.
“We need to talk,” she said.
“It’s about your mother.”
Chapter Fourteen
Tara took Georgie to the tack room and sat her down while she made them both a cup of tea. It wasn’t until Georgie took the mug from Tara’s hands that she realised how much she was shaking.
Tara sat down in the seat opposite Georgie. “You know that your mother and I were very competitive with each other when we were at school?”
“Uh-huh.” Georgie hesitated. “Lucinda said that you and Mum didn’t really get on.”
Tara arched a brow. “That’s fair enough I suppose. I guess that’s how most people saw it. Tara and Ginny, always at each other’s throats. Each of us determined to be the best.
“Ginny and I were rivals,” Tara said, “but we werefriends as well. We brought out the best in each other. When I was competing Ginny was always the one rider I would strive to beat, someone to measure my achievements against.” She took a sip of tea. “Competition here is tough but it makes you a better rider. You’ll find the same thing once you settle in at Blainford.”
“No, I won’t.” Georgie was fighting not to cry as she spoke. “I’m not like you and Mum. I don’t have what it takes.”
Tara shook her head in disbelief. “Georgie, you’ve only given it two cross-country lessons! Your mother arrived here like you, expecting to be an instant champion on her first day on the cross-country course and instead she was in the bottom half of the class for the first two terms. I seem to recall her spending half her time on her backside in the middle of the water complex.”
Georgie couldn’t believe it. “You’re kidding me!”
“Have you ever known me to joke about anything?” Tara said flatly.
“But the way Lucinda talks it’s like Mum was this golden girl right from the start.”
“Lucinda was your mother’s best friend,” Tara said, “and memories play strange tricks on us. We only remember the good times. Yes, by the time she was in her senior year at Blainford, Ginny Parker was a superstar. But not at first. She had to fight her way to the top, and stay strong and focused when things got tough.”
Tara looked at Georgie. “That’s what she would want you to do right now. Stay here and fight. She wouldn’t want you to give up just because you’ve had a few setbacks. You’re too good for that, Georgie.” Georgie was shocked by Tara’s praise. The steely instructor had never said anything so complimentary to her before.
“I’m not makin
g you any promises about your future though,” Tara said. “You’ve got mid-term exams in two weeks’ time and if you don’t do well then you’re up for elimination just like everyone else. I don’t play favourites in my classes, Georgie. If you fail the exam you’ll be gone.”
Georgie bit her lip. “What about Belladonna? If I stay would I keep riding her?”
“That’s up to you,” Tara said. “I know that the mare has been difficult so far. I never said she was an easy ride.” She paused. “I gave you Belladonna because she’s the most promising horse in the stables. She’s not a push-button ride by any means, but I’m confident you can handle her. But it’s your decision. If you want to change horses, I can arrange that.”
“No,” Georgie shook her head emphatically. “No, it’s OK. I don’t want to change horses. I want to ride Belladonna.” She took a deep breath. “And I want to come back to cross-country class.”
“Excellent!” Tara stood up. “Well, I’ll see you in the arena next week then?”
She put her cup on the bench and was about to leave when Georgie called after her.
“Tara?”
“Yes, Georgie?”
“Thank you.”
Tara smiled. “Don’t mention it.” And then she added, “Seriously, don’t mention it. To anyone. I don’t want my image to be tarnished. I’ve worked hard to become She Who Must Not Be Named. I don’t wantyou ruining my reputation.” And with that she walked out of the tack room, leaving Georgie sitting there in gobsmacked disbelief, gripping a cup of cold, untouched tea.
“You’ve changed your mind? You’re staying?” Alice couldn’t believe it when she came back from the dining hall to find Georgie’s clothes unpacked, the suitcases back in storage under the bed again.
“What happened?” Alice asked.
“It’s a long story,” Georgie told her. “Let’s just say that an old friend of my mother’s convinced me to stay.”
Alice let loose a loud shriek and rushed across the room to give Georgie the most enormous hug.