The Auditions

by Stacy Gregg

  “This is it, OK?” she said. “You are never allowed to scare me like that again. You’re my best friend and you have to stay here and stick it out with me, no matter what.”

  “Urghh,” Georgie said. “Alice, I promise not to go anywhere, but can you stop hugging me now?

  You’re squeezing the life out of me!”

  “Oops!” Alice disengaged from her embrace. “Sorry! Don’t know my own strength.”

  Alice was still over-excited the next day. When they joined Cam and Alex for breakfast she had a huge grin on her face.

  “What’s up, Alice?” Cam looked at her. “You’re acting weird.”

  “I was just thinking it’s so great to have Georgie here!” Alice said.

  Cam stared at Alice as if she was bonkers. “Yeah, it’s totally amazing. Can you pass the sugar, Georgie?”

  “Sorry,” Alice told Georgie as they left the dining hall on their way to class. “I know I sounded nuts in there–I’m just so glad you changed your mind.”

  Later, sitting Miss Somerford’s Tuesday maths class, already confronted with a fiendishly difficult mock exam as prep before the mid-terms, Georgie wondered if she had made the right decision after all. Having been given the first week to settle into their routine thestudents were now expected to be up to speed with their studies and the workload was intense. And at Blainford the pressure to be the best was enormous.

  Georgie was doing two hours of study each evening just to keep from falling behind. She had been one of the brightest in her year at Little Brampton. But things were different here in Lexington. They were very different indeed.

  “We’re going to begin the lesson as always by channelling our energies with some deep breathing exercises!” Miss Loden told the class brightly.

  Instead of sage-green harem pants, River Loden wore saffron cotton muslin wrapped around her in a complicated origami. She had bare feet and no helmet, which once again horrified Georgie who had spent her entire life being told not to enter stables without her hard hat and a pair of sturdy boots.

  At least once the breathing exercises were out of the way today Miss Loden had promised they would actually be riding. Georgie remained sceptical aboutthis since it was their second lesson and they hadn’t got on their horses so far. But after half an hour of swapping ch’i with their horses, Miss Loden finally said it was time for the arena.

  “Fear is our subject for the day,” she addressed the class as they stood there with their horses tacked up ready to ride. “I’d like you to put your hand up please if you have ever been afraid of a horse,” River said.

  The pupils all looked uncomfortable. No one dared raise their hand.

  “I’m feeling negative energy here,” River said, opening her palms out to the class. “Be honest. Share your deepest feelings.”

  A few of the riders reluctantly raised their hands.

  “Fear is natural,” River reassured them, smiling beatifically. “It’s instinctual. Every day we ask you to climb on top of an animal that is three times your size and ten times as strong, and we expect you to show no fear. But fear is there, in all of us.” She stepped forward towards the riders and smiled at Georgie. “I’m getting interesting vibrations from you, Georgie. I think you and Belladonna should be my subjects for this demonstration.”

  River Loden took the mare’s reins and led her forward then beckoned for Georgie to follow her. They were standing out in front of the class so that everyone could see them. Georgie could see Kennedy and Arden at the back of the class giggling.

  “Horses can sense fear in their rider,” River continued. “People talk about that as if it’s some magical sixth sense that they possess. But in fact there’s no great mystery to it. When we’re scared our bodies act differently. Instead of sitting up straight, fear makes us instinctively hunch over and grip with our thighs. For a horse, who can sense the most minuscule shift in balance on its back, these are physical cues that something is very wrong. If you’re afraid then your horse naturally assumes that they should be worried too.”

  Emily Tait raised her hand timidly to ask a question. “So it’s the rider’s fault if their horse is afraid?”

  “Yes… and no,” River replied. “These situations are a vicious circle. You pass your fear on to the horse, then your horse acts badly, refusing to jump or bucking and rearing and then you become even more afraid. Youmay even fear your horse when you are on the ground, in the stall or in the paddock. The fear can begin anywhere.”

  Listening to River’s explanation it suddenly became clear to Georgie. From the moment she first encountered Belladonna there had been an element of fear between them. Georgie’s courage had left her that first day at the water complex and things had got worse ever since. Belladonna reminded her so much of Boudicca, and after what happened to her mother Georgie was scared the same thing was going to happen to her too.

  It was Georgie who had panicked at the coffin, not Belladonna. The mare had simply been reacting to Georgie’s own fears.

  “So how do you stop it?” Georgie asked. “How do we get rid of the fear?”

  “Free your mind and your body will follow,” River said enigmatically. “Can you mount up on to Belladonna please?”

  Georgie put her foot in the stirrup and sprang up on to the mare. River passed her a black scarf. “Put on this blindfold.”

  Georgie’s eyes widened. “Why? What’s going on?”

  “Don’t look so frightened!” River smiled. “I know you’re an eventing rider and you’re opposed to my horse-whispering tricks. I promise you there’s nothing mystical about this.”

  Georgie tied the scarf around her eyes while River slipped a lunging cavesson over Belladonna’s bridle. “Don’t worry,” she told Georgie, “I will be holding on to the lunge rein the whole time that you’re blindfolded so I will have total control of your horse.

  “Is the blindfold on tight enough?” River asked. “You’re sure you can’t see?”

  Georgie nodded. She was totally blind. River made a clucking noise with her tongue and Belladonna moved away and began to walk on the circle around the trainer.

  As Belladonna walked around on the lunge rein, River explained what she was doing to the rest of the class. “This is an effective way of making a rider aware of what fear does to their body and correcting their position again as quickly as possible,” she said. “Without our eyes to guide us we gain true vision.”

  River looked at Georgie who was still circling on Belladonna’s back at the end of the lunge rein. “Feeling OK?” River asked.

  “Yes,” Georgie said nervously.

  “Excellent. Let go of the reins,” River told her. “I’ve got the lunge rope so nothing can happen to you. Now place your hands down so they are resting on your thighs.”

  Georgie did as she said and River continued her instructions. “Focus on your body position. Are you sitting straight or are your shoulders hunched?”

  “I’m hunched,” Georgie said. She straightened up her back, surprised at the new-found physical awareness she had now that she couldn’t see. She felt vulnerable up there on the horse but free as well. Without her vision her other senses were taking over. She was suddenly aware of every muscle and every bone in her body.

  River kept a tight hold of the lunge rein. “OK, Georgie, stand up in the stirrups and when you sit down, rebalance those seat bones.” Georgie did as she asked. “Now put your hands straight in front of yourface with your fingertips stretched out towards Belladonna’s ears,” River told her. Georgie did this. She was beginning to think this riding blindfolded business was easy. Until River said to prepare to trot.

  “On the count of three. One… two… “ Georgie almost panicked and ripped the blindfold off on the first few trot strides. But River kept giving instructions, telling her to put her weight in her heels and relax, and soon she found her balance. Before she knew it, Georgie was riding around the arena doing a rising trot with no reins, completely blind. Beneath her she could feel Bellad
onna’s magnificent floating paces as the mare sped over the surface of the sand arena.

  After they had done a few circles at a trot, River slowed them back down and brought Belladonna to a halt. “I’m just setting up a little jump,” she told Georgie. “It’s not very big, only half a metre off the ground. I’m going to set it up and get you to canter this time.”

  “What!” Georgie felt her heart racing. This was madness!

  “Control your fear,” River said in a lilting, soothing voice as if she were a hypnotist rather than a ridinginstructor. “You can do this.”

  As Georgie and Belladonna were sent back out on the lunging rein, Georgie focused all her energy on relaxing and doing exactly what River Loden told her to do. “Loosen your thighs, straighten your shoulders, sit up and get ready to canter,” River instructed. Georgie did as she said and felt the most amazing sensation as Belladonna began to canter. She was in total darkness and the horse was flowing beneath her. She could feel their energies merging.

  “You’re about to take the jump now,” River told her. “Get ready … and one, two, three!” Georgie felt the horse rise up underneath her and she instinctively moved with her. She felt the wind in her face and then the jolt as they landed again on the other side. Then River was calling the mare down to a walk and telling Georgie to remove the blindfold. They had done it!

  “You can see,” River told the class, “how Georgie is sitting better in the saddle now. Taking away our sight makes us feel so much more deeply. We all ride better if we let our fear go and concentrate on our ridinginstead.” River Loden turned to the class. “Now, who’s next?”

  Over the course of the lesson the whole class had a turn at blindfolded riding. Georgie, meanwhile, focused on using her new-found position to school Belladonna. She worked her at a walk, trot and canter until she felt like she really had the measure of the mare and Belladonna was responding neatly to her aids.

  “She’s going much better for you,” River Loden said approvingly. “She can sense your confidence. She’s not spooking any more.”

  Under River’s watchful eye, Georgie asked Belladonna to canter again. “Stop holding her back,” River instructed. “Ride forward and let her go.” Georgie did as she said and the mare began to really stretch out and show off her elaborate paces.

  “See how beautifully she moves?” River smiled.

  Georgie beamed as she urged the mare on into a powerful extended trot down the long side of the arena. Belladonna snorted and arched her neck, cantering a figure of eight like a dressage superstar.

  “Not many horses can be so graceful in dressage, strong on the cross-country and then have the speed and agility required to be equally brilliant in the showjumping ring,” River told Georgie. “This mare has talent in all three phases. Brought on correctly she could be the perfect eventer.”

  “How do you know this stuff?” Georgie asked. “I thought you were…”

  “A rope wiggler?” River Loden smiled. “I’m a former three-day eventer. But I changed paths.

  “I know you have your heart set on eventing, Georgie, but don’t close your mind. You’re here to learn everything there is to know about horses and the road to the top at Blainford is never straight. The trick is knowing which twists and turns to take.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Over the rest of the week Georgie grabbed every spare moment to train with Belladonna. She still found the mare a complicated ride. Belladonna was headstrong and hard to hold back but at the same time could also be sensitive to the slightest touch on the reins. After River Loden’s lesson with the blindfold Georgie got into the habit of closing her eyes in the saddle, just for a moment whenever the mare was tense, and more often than not Belladonna would relax again and begin to respond to her rider.

  It was working. Day by day, Belladonna was relinquishing her secrets to Georgie, and the girl was listening all the time, trying to figure out what made her tick.

  Georgie would sometimes skip lunch in the cafeteria, taking a sandwich and a cereal bar from the boarding house and spend the hour with Belladonna grooming her instead. This was partly to avoid James Kirkwood, who she hadn’t spoken to since Kennedy had put an end to their conversation at the polo, but mostly so she could spend as much time as possible with the bay mare.

  One afternoon, when their riding class had finished, Georgie stayed behind with Alice to pull the horses’ manes, combing and yanking out the hairs by the roots to shorten the mane and ready it for plaiting. You would have thought this would have hurt the horses, but Belladonna actually liked having her mane pulled and almost went to sleep while Georgie worked her way up the neck.

  “I’m thinking of changing her name,” Georgie admitted to Alice. “Belladonna is a bit of a mouthful.”

  “How about just shortening it to Bella?” Alice suggested.

  “I don’t know.” Georgie pulled a face. “It’s a bit Twilight, isn’t it?”

  Alice shrugged. “Then how about Belle? You know, like a Southern Belle? I don’t think you should change it completely. It’s bad luck to change a horse’s name.” She said this last part with such conviction that it was clear she had been through a bad experience in the past.

  “OK then,” Georgie said, “Belle it is.”

  “It means beautiful in French, doesn’t it?” Alice said. “And she’s a very beautiful mare.”

  “She is, isn’t she?” Georgie agreed. As she said this, she felt her heart swelling with pride. Her beautiful mare. She was finally beginning to feel like she and Belle were developing that special bond with each other.

  That weekend, there was polo on the main field on Saturday, a round robin tournament between various teams from Luhmuhlen, Lexington and Burghley. This was not a grand event so there were no marquees and champagne this time. “We’re going to go and watch anyway, though,” Alice told Georgie. “The trials for the girls’ teams begin after half-term and I might pick up some playing tips.”

  Alice looked in the bedroom mirror and pushed astraw Stetson down on top of her jet-black hair. “I’m meeting Emily and Daisy at the field, do you want to come with me?”

  “OK,” Georgie said. If Burghley House were playing in the polo then the chances were that James Kirkwood would be playing. Georgie hadn’t spoken to him since the match that first weekend. Maybe James Kirkwood didn’t want to have anything to do with a girl who couldn’t afford to bring her own horse to the academy like Kennedy had said. She had seen James around the school since then, but he was always with the same gang of boys from Burghley. Not that she wanted to talk to him anyway. The last thing she wanted was for James Kirkwood to think she was turning up just to see him.

  “He’s not here!” Georgie’s eyes scanned the field as the eight players came out for the next chukka. James wasn’t amongst them and she couldn’t see him over at the rails with the polo ponies either.

  “Who’s not here?” Alice said. Then she clicked.

  “Ohmygod! You’re not still crushing on James Kirkwood.”

  “No!” Georgie said defensively. “I mean, maybe just a little…”

  Alice raised an eyebrow at her.

  “All right!” Georgie admitted. “I still think he’s totally hot.”

  “He is totally hot,” Alice agreed. “And he is also a Kirkwood. And in the year above us. And he’s Kennedy’s brother …”

  “And,” Emily added, “he’s coming over this way!”

  “Quick!” Georgie said. “Act like we haven’t been talking about him!”

  Alice looked bewildered. “How do we do that?”

  “Hey, Georgie.” James gave her that lopsided killer grin. He was obviously playing in the round robin because he was wearing his white polo breeches and house colours.

  “Oh, hey, James,” Georgie said, “I didn’t notice you here. I was so busy watching the game.”

  “Oh, you’re busy,” James said. “That’s a shame.”

  “No!” Georgie said. “I’m not really. Why?”


  “I was just wondering,” James said, “if you wanted to be my stick chick, you know, come and pass me my mallets and hold my horses while I play.”

  Georgie’s face fell. “I get it,” she said, “I’m too poor to bring my own horse to school cos I’m not a trust fund kid like you, so that means I’m only good enough to be your groom.”

  “What?” James’s easy-going smile disappeared. “I didn’t mean that. I just wondered if you wanted to …”

  “Well, I don’t,” Georgie snapped. “I’m at this school to ride, not to brush and saddle up other people’s horses.”

  James raised his hands up to calm her down. “Fine, I get it. Forget I asked, OK?”

  He turned round and strode off back towards the polo ponies. Georgie watched him leave, still fuming at the nerve of him.

  “What are you doing?” Alice rounded on her. “What’s wrong with you? I thought you liked him.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to be his ‘stick chick’,”

  Georgie said, doing sarcastic air quotes with her fingers.

  “Georgie!” Alice shook her head in disbelief. “Polo boys always get their girlfriends to be their stick chick. It’s supposed to be romantic.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “James Kirkwood just asked you out and you rejected him and called him a trust fund kid!”

  Georgie groaned. She couldn’t believe she’d blown it so badly. “Should I go over and apologise and tell him I’ll groom for him?”

  “Too late,” Alice said. “Somebody has beaten you to it.”

  James was standing next to a grey horse, strapping on his knee pads, and there was a girl holding the pony for him. As James took the reins from her, Arden Mortimer looked ridiculously pleased with herself.

  “You’ve driven him into the arms of Arden,” Alice said melodramatically.

  “Very funny, Alice,” Georgie said darkly.

  “He probably just chose her because he reallyneeded someone to be his stick chick for him,” Emily offered kindly.

  “Really?” Georgie said. “That’s not what Alice said when he asked me though, is it?”