“Yeah, I know,” said Essie. She knew that was Francesca’s way of telling her to not be too disappointed if Steven didn’t come through. She needn’t have worried, though. Essie’s expectations weren’t high.
Essie rubbed her hand down Moxie’s forelock and across her eye, feeling the smooth curve under her hand. Dawn was just breaking, a pink line across the mountain tops, and somewhere in the street magpies were singing their morning song.
“Don’t the maggies sound beautiful, Mox?” she said, leaning in to breathe in her beautiful pony smell, feeling her eyes fill with tears and stepping back to wipe them with the arm of her jumper. “Don’t worry, Mox,” Essie said, sniffing. “We’ll find a way to sort things out. I’ll find some online stuff to tell me what to do, or something. I don’t know what, but something.”
Seeing Moxie’s ears go forwards, Essie turned to see Aiden coming across the street. Quickly she ducked around to the other side of Moxie, away from the door, pretending to fiddle with Moxie’s rug. She didn’t want him to know she’d been crying.
“Morning,” he said, feeding Moxie an apple core. He watched Moxie chew, and without looking up said, “If you’re talking to your pony in the stable at daybreak and crying, do I take it Shiny said no?”
“I’m talking to Moxie, Aiden,” Essie replied. “I’m just not sure if I’m talking to you.”
“I’m really sorry, Ess, it was wrong of me, I know. If it makes you feel any better Mum has taken my camera off me,” he said.
Looking across at him, Essie realised it was true. He looked strange without it.
“How long for?” Essie asked.
“Until you say I can have it back,” he said with half a grin.
Despite herself, Essie smiled. It was so Doddsy.
“Anyway, how do you know I was talking and crying?” Essie said, changing the subject. She wasn’t going to give him any idea when he might get his beloved camera back.
“Spare camera and zoom lens,” said Aido.
“Of course,” Essie sighed. “And you were right about Dad. Negative, denied, rejected. But I’m not surprised.”
“Did your dad say why he said no?” Aido asked.
“He said something like, ‘I have offered you a good solution, which you have decided against. Therefore, in this endeavour you are on your own.’ I mean, who even speaks like that?” Essie asked, running her hand down Moxie’s neck. She’d cried mostly because she was angry that she’d allowed herself to hope it might have been different.
“Sorry for suggesting it,” said Aido. “It didn’t seem like such a big thing.”
“It’s not a big thing, Aido. He just made one of his stupid big decisions about what he thinks I should do and said, Essie, I want you to do this, and I said no. So now he’s determined to get his own way, and he’ll make his point by not helping me.” Pushing her hair back, she admitted, “But I can be just as determined, stubborn, dogged as him.”
“Morning, darlings,” said Francesca, standing on the edge of the verandah in her dressing-gown, holding a tray with a teapot, milk and cups. “Who’d like a cup of tea?” She looked happy this morning, Essie thought, or maybe that was just in contrast to herself.
“Morning,” said Essie, hoping Francesca hadn’t heard her talking about Steven. “Tea sounds good, thanks.”
“Yes, please, me too,” replied Aido, yawning.
“And what about you, Moxie?” asked Francesca. She put the tray down on the step, then sat down beside it and began to pour.
“Looks like she’ll just share mine,” said Essie as Aido passed her a cup and the curious mare tried to investigate.
“Tea in bed, Mox,” said Essie, moving the hot cup out of the way and blowing gently in her nose.
“What a beautiful morning,” said Francesca, sipping her tea and looking out at the sunrise.
“You seem happy this morning, Mum,” said Essie, curiosity getting the better of her. “Did you hear the mopoke or something?”
“I didn’t hear the mopoke.” Francesca smiled. “But I think it worked its magic anyway. Mainly I’m happy because I had an email from Steven this morning, letting me know that under no circumstances was he paying for you and Moxie to go to the clinic, and that I was being irresponsible. He also added that ‘thinking you can get that pony right is letting your overactive imagination run away with you’. Apparently, that’s a bad thing.” Francesca pulled a confused face. “What’s more, he hopes that him saying no will make us wake up to ourselves, stop throwing away good money after bad, and see things his way.” Francesca rocked back on the step in amusement.
Frowning, Essie said, “He emailed me too, saying no.” Tears threatened again. “But I didn’t find it funny. I shouldn’t have asked him, I should have known better. Anyway, even if he did pay, we’d still have to get her there, and a million other things that I haven’t even thought of,” she added, frustrated, “like not having a saddle.”
“Well, I found it no bother at all that he has chosen not to help.” Francesca smiled, pulling her phone from her pocket. “And because I’ve known your dad a very long time, I’m sorry to say I was pretty confident that he’d get on his high horse and say no – he never changes his mind unless it’s his idea. So before I went to bed I sent a little message out to my friend the magic mopoke, and the unstoppable universe, and then I gave them a little help by doing something for myself. And then this happened.” She reached across and gave her phone to Aiden, indicating that he should pass it to Essie.
Looking down at the screen, Essie saw one of the photos of the bench and cupboards. “I’m not following,” Essie said, looking at the screen.
“Scroll down,” Francesca said.
As the image moved off the screen, Essie read, “For sale, best offer, available for immediate delivery.” This was followed by a bunch of measurements and details.
“No, Mum,” said Essie, “you were going to put them in your studio and make it beautiful. The old lady said it was meant to go with you.”
“Yes, she did Essie and she was right, because my first offer, which came in at midnight, was for eight thousand dollars,” said Francesca, clapping her hands with delight. “And just before I brought out the tea, I sold it to the owner of one of the shops in Sydney that sells my furniture for – are you ready?” She looked at their expectant faces. “Eleven thousand dollars!” Francesca threw her head back and laughed.
“But Mum, no,” said Essie. “I don’t want you to do that, you should have them in your studio.” Essie was surprised at how distressed she felt.
“Essie, I’d much rather have you and Moxie go to the clinic than have a bench trapped in my studio and always covered in fabric, where no one can see it. Plus, I’ll have a heap left over,” Francesca replied.
“But the old lady said it was meant for you,” Essie said, her eyes filling with tears.
“And she was right,” Francesca agreed. “It was absolutely meant for me – well, meant for us – and I’m sure this is the reason. It’s so you, my darling, and the golden miss Moxie could go to the Nick Laurie clinic and get started on the road to wherever you want to go.”
Essie finally let the tears fall. Over her sobbing she heard Francesca ask, “Ess, goodness me, why are you crying?”
Wiping her eyes, and stroking Moxie’s neck to calm herself, Essie finally managed to say, “Because I don’t see why it’s always you who has to make things right. And I’m sorry about the cupboards.”
Francesca smiled. “Well, feeling sorry is not necessary, especially because I’m so pleased. You’d be much better off being excited and getting online to find out how we book you in to this thing.”
“How will we get there?” said Essie, still not letting herself get excited. “And what about a saddle?”
“Essie,” exclaimed Aiden, “the universe just sorted out eleven thousand dollars for a bunch of old cupboards. I reckon some transport and a saddle are on its easy ‘to do’ list.”
“Exactly,�
� said Francesca, getting to her feet. “So I suggest you finish doing whatever pony stuff you’re up to and then come inside and let’s get you booked in. Breakfast, Aiden?” Francesca asked as she walked back to the front door.
“Yes, please,” he said, getting up to follow her, leaving Essie alone with Moxie.
Essie leaned over Moxie just for a moment, rubbing her across the back. She let out a deep, shuddering breath, steadying herself as she let the reality sink in. “Well, Moxie,” she said quietly, scratching the point where her mane vanished under her rug, “I guess we’re finally going to see what you’re made of.” Then she added with a sigh, “And no doubt we’ll see what I’m made of too.”
So can we leave her overnight, or do we need to take her home each day?” asked Francesca. She paused, listening, then nodded and gave Essie a thumbs up.
“Okay, good. And we don’t need our own saddle? Right, Nick prefers to use his own, and we can camp overnight if we want to? Great. Well, that all sounds simple enough. Yep, if there’s anything else then I’ll text. Okay, lovely, see you Wednesday afternoon to drop Moxie off.”
“There you go, Ess,” said Francesca, putting down the phone. “Moxie can stay, and Nick uses his own gear – not sure if the mopoke sorted that one too,” she smiled, “but either way, it’s done and we can have a look and see if we’d like to camp too.”
“Are you going all right, Aiden?” she asked, looking across to the stove, where Aiden had taken over flipping pancakes while Francesca was on the phone.
“All good,” he said, without taking his eyes off the pan.
Essie could feel the first fizz of excitement bubbling up beside her growing nerves. What were the tricks she’d used for keeping nerves at bay before a dressage test? She couldn’t remember. When was the last time she used them? Two years ago, she realised.
“Hey,” she said, “Moxie and I have had almost the same time off – me not riding and her not being ridden. She got put in the paddock at the same time as we moved here.”
Francesca laughed. “I hope you’re not saying that us moving here was like sticking you in a paddock, starving you and letting you get lice?” she said, eyebrows raised. “Though I suspect that’s what Steven thinks.”
Essie smiled. “That’s not what I meant, I love it here. But speaking of moving, how will we move Moxie to the clinic?” she said.
Suddenly Francesca went very still and said, “Well, Mr Mopoke, now you’re freaking even me out. Look, kids,” she said, pointing out the front window.
Aiden dragged his eyes away from the stove as Essie moved to the window. “Oh my goodness,” she said, hand over her mouth. Sitting out the front of the house was their horse float and Steven’s four-wheel-drive. She hadn’t thought to even ask her dad about using the float. Wide-eyed, she turned to Francesca. “Did you organise this with Dad?”
“No, darling,” said Francesca.
Turning back to the window, Essie saw the car lights turn off, and then Caroline got out and walked to the back of the horse float and opened the top door. Lowering the tailgate, she started unloading some big sports bags. With a gasp, Essie recognised her horse gear. She ran for the door. Francesca, hunting for her gumboots, was just seconds behind.
Essie jogged across the grass, excited. Seeing the float was like an unexpected visit from an old friend. The baling twine she’d used to tie Chet to the float still hung bright blue on the side D ring. She felt like clapping her hands in excitement, but one look at Caroline’s completely impassive face brought her back down to earth. Essie was glad when she sensed Francesca coming up behind her.
“Hello Hope,” said Caroline. “I wasn’t sure if you were home. I’ve bought the rest of your horse stuff. Hello Francesca.” She nodded, her tone uptight, no mention or apology about the cupboards.
“Hi Caroline, this is good timing,” Francesca said.
Caroline looked uneasy. “I wasn’t sure when I’d be coming through. If you weren’t home I’d have put everything on the back step,” she said, placing the last of the bags on the ground. There was something edgy about her, she wasn’t even trying to be friendly. Perhaps she was embarrassed about backing out of the cupboards, Essie wondered. She decided to forget all that. Caroline had driven the float all the way here.
“Awesome timing with the float,” Essie said as she walked up the familiar ramp, touching the side padding and breathing that smell of rubber and horse and hay that only a float has. “I’ve got a clinic at the end of the week.”
“I’m not leaving the float behind,” said Caroline, her ice-calm delivery crashing into the morning.
“Why bring it then?” asked Francesca. “You could have brought the bags in your car.”
“I didn’t want the dirty horse gear in the car, and I’m using the trailer to move some furniture,” she said matter-of-factly.
Essie couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. First Caroline hadn’t apologised to Francesca about the cupboards, and now she was talking about the float like it belonged to her. Suddenly Essie noticed, her heart clenching, that her tie straps, the bins for the side of the float and her lucky ribbon, had all been taken out. Essie felt like she’d been slapped. The float was like the last of the old world. Without thinking, she turned to Caroline and said, “But it’s not your float, Caroline.”
Caroline turned to Essie and, without missing a beat, replied, “Well, actually, yes it is. It’s Steven’s float and I’m his wife, and so therefore it is mine.”
Essie couldn’t believe what she has just heard. She wanted to say, “But I’m his daughter and the float’s got nothing to do with you,” but instead she and Francesca simply stood there in stunned silence.
And then, as if to drive her point home, Caroline said, “Your old van wouldn’t be able to tow it anyway.”
Suddenly Francesca seemed to grow a foot taller. She stood up straight, almost as tall as Caroline, who stood defiantly on the tailgate. “Well, of course it would, Caroline, but that’s a good idea. If it’s furniture you’re moving, why don’t you borrow Van-essa and we’ll borrow the float.” Essie knew there was no way Caroline was going to lend them the float, let alone be seen driving a maroon van.
For just a heartbeat Caroline said nothing, then with an expressionless face she said, “That’s not happening. Essie has made her stance on Steven’s horse offer quite clear, and he has been very clear about his opinion about that pony, so I’m supporting his wishes. I’m certainly not leaving his float with you.”
As if that was the last word on any of it, Caroline stepped off the ramp and bent to lift the tailgate. She looked at Essie, waiting for her to get out of the way, but Essie stood firm, looking steadily at Caroline. Caroline stared straight back, not saying a word. Looking back at the beautiful float, Essie thought about all the early mornings she had tied Chet up in it heading for competitions with her dad, bringing him home, mane curly from being in plaits all day, how proud she’d been when they’d got their own float. Then she turned quietly to Caroline and, stepping off the tailgate, smiled and said calmly, “Thanks for dropping off my gear, Caroline; it was really thoughtful of you.”
But if Essie thought Caroline was going to be in any way put off, she was wrong. She slammed the tailgate shut and said, “No worries, it’s always good to move old stuff out and there’s been a change of plans. I’m not staying on at the Victoria job, I’m going to Germany to be with Steven. It’ll be nice for us to have some couple time.” Essie felt the implied without a child in the way. “And, there’ll be nowhere for this stuff when we sell the float anyway. Enjoy your clinic,” she said as she climbed into the car and started it. And for the first time, Essie saw the real Caroline, the one she had always suspected was there.
“Are you all right?” Francesca asked.
“Perfectly.” Essie smiled, leaning on the gate.
Neither Essie nor Francesca spoke or moved. They watched Caroline drive to the end of the street, where she tried to swing the float around befo
re realising there wasn’t enough room and she’d need to reverse to get it around. After six or seven attempts, the float swinging back the wrong way each time, Francesca asked, “Do think I should go and help her out?”
“No,” said Essie, “it’s great reversing practise for all that furniture she has to move. If she’s still going at twenty attempts, though, I’m going inside.”
At attempt number twelve, they were distracted by Rob’s truck turning into the street, just as Aiden called, “If you want pancakes you’d better come now, or I’ll eat them all.”
“Oh damn,” exclaimed Francesca. “Rob is here to see his chair, Aiden’s cooked all those pancakes,” she laughed, “and I haven’t even brushed my teeth.” Grabbing two of the bags of gear, she hurried to the house, while Essie watched the float reverse in the same spot again.
Walking in his unhurried way to the gate, Rob nodded at the nearly jack-knifed float. “Do you think they need a hand? Maybe I should go and help them before they get really stuck.”
For a second Essie hesitated, and then she nodded. “Probably.”
“Righto,” he said, starting to jog to the car. “Tell your mum I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.” Knowing Francesca would be glad of a bit more time, Essie sang out, “Sure thing, no hurry.” Then, picking up the rest of her gear, she headed to Moxie, calling as she went, “Look what I’ve got, Mox.”
As she dropped the bags near the stable she turned one last time to see that Caroline had managed to get the float out before Rob got there. Essie listened to the familiar song of its squeaks and rattles as it headed out, but she made herself turn away before it reached the corner, looking forwards at Moxie, not back at history turning the corner. Making her voice happy, she called, “Rob, come and have some pancakes.”
Sitting in the dirt outside Moxie’s stable, Essie tried the zip on the first bag. It was sticky, but finally she eased it down enough to pull out the contents.
The Pony Question Page 13