by Kate Lattey
“Course she can,” Abby tells him with a grin. “Just needs a bit more spit and polish, that’s all.”
Nina chats to Abby as we wait, and I fidget anxiously until the announcer calls the order for the jump-off, which has me second to go out of nine clear first rounds. I tighten Finn’s girth and remount as the first rider goes in and tries to gallop down to every fence, taking three rails in the process.
“Let’s not do that,” I tell Finn as we enter the ring.
My pony is fizzy and excited, trying to take a hold against the rein. I sit up tall, holding her steady, waiting for my bell. I can see Dad and Nina at the railing, still standing with Abby. She’s making polite conversation with Nina, but Dad is watching me, and smiles as I catch his eye. I really want to do well in this class. To prove to my father that show jumping is not just something I love, but also something I’m good at.
The bell rings, and I warn myself not to lose concentration. We pick up a canter and ride to the first fence. Finn takes it cleanly, easily. I turn her to the left, dodge around the picket and jump the flowerboxes on a slight angle. Then it’s a long run to the rustic, another long run to the wall, back across the ring to the picket, and a tight loop into the treble. It’s not an easy course, and we find some awkward distances, but we’re still clear as we canter down to the picket. Finn takes a huge leap over it, spooking slightly, then I turn her tightly for the treble. And we’re clean over the first, and over the second, but she’s losing impulsion and we rattle the third in its cups. I sit down hard and gallop her through the flags, hoping that we’ll get through before the rail hits the ground. No such luck.
I ride Finn back to them on a loose rein, trying to shrug off my disappointment.
“That was wonderful!” Nina tells me enthusiastically as I kick my feet out of my stirrups and look at Abby with a sigh.
“It wasn’t enough,” I tell her. “Four faults and my time wasn’t very fast.”
“It wasn’t that slow,” Abby contradicts me. “Just wait and see.”
We look over as we hear scattered applause for the next rider’s clear round. Her time was marginally slower than mine, but she left all the fences up. The next two riders take rails, but there are three clears by now. I wonder if there’s a chance I could still finish fourth until Anneke rides into the ring on Nonny, her speedy black pony. A little voice in the back of my head pipes up. That pony’s too good to be jumping in this class.
Could say the same about Finn, I remind myself, then tell the voice in my head to shut up as I watch Anneke’s round. I like Anneke, but I can’t help quietly willing her to make an uncharacteristic mistake. She doesn’t, of course, coming home with a fast clear to seal the win.
Oh well. I still have two more classes today. That’s two more opportunities to improve.
Two more opportunities to impress my father.
It’s strange, being at a show with Dad. I feel awkward, knowing how much of a fish out of water he is. I want him to enjoy himself, so I take him and Nina for a walk around the show grounds instead of just collapsing on the truck ramp and chatting with Tabby all afternoon as I usually do. It’s not working though – I can tell that he’s bored. Even worse, Nina is trying to compensate for his obvious lack of interest by asking me questions about everything.
“Why does that horse have a strap around its neck? If you knock down two poles at the same jump does that give you eight faults? What happens if you fall off?”
“It’s called a martingale, no, and you get back on. Unless you were rubbish enough to fall off in the ring, in which case you get eliminated.”
“I see,” Nina replies quietly. She glances at my dad, who gives her a little commiserating smile.
Great, now I sound like a spoilt brat. I want to apologise, but I don’t know what to say without it all sounding horribly awkward, so I change the subject.
“I’m starving,” I tell them. “Let’s get some food.” I remember belatedly that they’ve just come from having lunch, but Nina gives me a wide smile.
“That sounds like a great idea. I’d love some hot chips.”
We find the food caravans over by the show hunter ring. Dad insists on paying, and goes to stand in line while Nina and I watch the ponies.
“That girl isn’t going very fast,” Nina comments. “I thought the idea was to get over the jumps as fast as possible.”
“This class is judged on style,” I tell her, trying to be more civil. “The idea is to keep a steady rhythm and make the whole thing look perfect and effortless. That was a pretty good round, actually.”
“Oh. Do you do these style classes too?”
“Nah, it’s not my scene. And Finn wouldn’t be very good at it.”
“Why not?” Nina asks, seeming genuinely surprised. “I thought she was a good jumper.”
“She is, but she’s too quick. A good show hunter pony should make a nice round shape over the jump. It’s called a bascule, and…well, you see how that pony is really lifting his shoulders and making a proper arc of his body over the jump?” She nods agreeably as a bay pony jumps very neatly over the oxer in front of us. “That’s what the judge is looking for. They want you to take off at the right spot in front of the fence for that perfect jump. The horse’s knees should be up and together, and they should look relaxed and happy. Then they have to make the exact right number of strides to the next jump and do it over again, for the whole course, without speeding up or slowing down or cutting corners. And the rider has to be in the correct position too.”
“It sounds hard,” she comments.
I shrug. “I guess. The jumps don’t get very high though.”
Nina nods, but I’m suddenly very aware that the jumps in this ring are roughly the same size as the ones I was just jumping. Fortunately Nina doesn’t say anything as the bay pony finishes his round and an immaculate dapple grey trots into the ring. He picks up a smooth canter and begins his course, but it’s not until halfway through that I recognise Tegan’s sister Lizzie in the saddle, and belatedly realise that I’m watching her jump Ghost.
“Doesn’t that just make you want to puke?”
I turn my head as Tegan sits down next to us. “Lizzie steal your pony?”
“That is not my pony,” Tegan states firmly as Dad returns with our food. “My sister is welcome to the stupid thing.”
“I didn’t even know she jumped.”
“She can. She just doesn’t like it, but Tish went lame yesterday so she chucked that thing on the float instead.” Tegan rolls her eyes so hard that it looks painful, then changes the subject. “Are you doing the derby this afternoon?”
“Yeah, and the speed.”
“Nice. Same.” Tegan reaches into my chip punnet and takes all the ones on the top that have tomato sauce on them.
“Hey!” I object, but she grins and shoves them in her mouth.
“Snooze you lose,” she mumbles through the mouthful of hot potato.
“Hope you burn your tongue,” I tell her and she punches me on the arm before getting up and leaving me alone with Dad and Nina again.
The derby doesn’t go well. I’d hoped that Finn’s winter out hunting would have set her in good stead for that kind of event, but although she jumps well over the first half of the course, a big double of immense rolltops spooks her and she flat out refuses to go anywhere near them, much to my embarrassment. Anneke wins the class again, and I can’t help wishing that she didn’t have to be so nice and friendly all the time, because I’m starting to want to hate her for her polished riding and immaculate ponies. Even her wild-eyed Appaloosa is jumping better today, although he’s still napping at the gate and rearing in prizegivings.
At least she’s making it into the prizegivings, I think bitterly. I’m usually a better sport than this, but it hurts to keep failing when all I want to do is prove myself. This could well be the one and only time Dad ever sees me ride, and I’m making a proper fool of myself.
But there’s still the speed class
, and Finn warms up well for it, giving me hope that we’ll manage one decent round today under my dad’s eye. I’m called to the gate as Tegan rides Nugget into the ring ahead of me, looking determined. She wants to do well today too, to prove to her mother and everyone else that Nugget is far from being a lost cause, but as she gallops her pony down to the first jump, a sense of foreboding comes over me. Nugget reaches the jump on an awkward stride and stag leaps it, and Tegan is left behind in the air, coming down into the saddle with a thump as they land. Undeterred, she kicks Nugget on towards the second fence. He comes in long to that one too but puts in a huge effort to clear it.
“She was lucky there.”
I glance over at Abby, who’s watching with a concerned expression as Tegan struggles to slow Nugget down. He rushes at the next jump, pricks his ears and Tegan sits forward slightly as he goes to take off. Just as quickly, Nugget changes his mind, dropping his shoulder sharply and sending Tegan flying into the jump. The poles clatter down around her as her pony races towards the exit and the steward leaps forward to catch him.
Tegan is on her feet and limping back towards the gate with a dark expression as her mother comes forward and takes Nugget’s reins from the steward.
“Shut up,” Tegan tells her mother before she can even open her mouth. “I don’t want to hear it, so save it for someone who cares.”
She storms off, dragging Nugget behind her. Abby rolls her eyes, looking disgusted at Tegan’s bad manners, and I want to defend my friend but there’s no time for that now because it’s my turn to jump. I enter the ring as the stewards rebuild the fence that Tegan fell into and run my hand down Finn’s neck, looking over the course and trying to relax. The start bell rings, and I push Finn firmly into a canter, holding her steady with the reins as we turn through the start flags.
Speed events are Finn’s forte, and my favourite. We have a glitch at one of the fences, when I see a long spot that my pony wasn’t anticipating, but no rails come down and by the last three jumps of the course we’re completely on the same page. There’s nothing like the sense of unity when you and your pony are working as a team, and Finn rises to the occasion with a song in her heart, loving her job.
We land over the last and gallop through the finish, and I’m grinning wide as I struggle to bring my pony back to a steadier pace.
“Superstar pony,” I tell her. “Best one in the world.”
“Clear in a very fast time of 52.04 for Jay Evans and That’s Final,” says the announcer. “That is now the time to beat for this class, with twelve ponies left to go.”
Abby high-fives me as I leave the ring and Nina praises me effusively, patting Finn’s sweaty neck and telling me how impressed she is with my riding. I look at Dad, hoping he was impressed too, and he winks at me.
“Nice one.”
Those two words from him mean more than any of the praise that Nina is showering over me, and I smile back at him. I kick my feet out of the stirrups and tell them I’d better keep Finn walking until she catches her breath. I’m parched, so I head her back towards the Harrisons’ truck so I can grab a quick drink. Alec is there, swinging onto Lucky’s back, and I nudge Finn a bit quicker, wanting to share my success with him.
He sees me coming and holds Lucky still with one hand as he tightens his girth with the other, his leg slung forward over the front of his worn saddle.
“You look pretty pleased with yourself,” he comments as I pull Finn to a halt and jump to the ground. “Get on all right then?”
“Super,” I grin at him. “All clear in the Speed and we’re in the lead at the moment.”
“Nice one,” he says, echoing Dad’s comment from earlier, but seeming less convinced about it. There’s something half-hearted about his smile today, I think as I pull Finn’s reins over her head and hold them out to him. “Can you hold Finn while I grab a drink?”
“Sorry, gotta go. They’re waiting for me in Ring Two.”
“Oh.” I stand there as he swings his leg back into place and rides away, then look at Finn standing next to me, her neck damp with sweat and her eyes bright.
“What was that about?” I ask her.
She rubs her head on my shoulder, trying to get me to take her bridle off and itch her head.
“I’ll hold her if you want.”
I look over to see Claudia walking towards us, leading Titus. He’s tacked up and looks immaculate. His saddle blanket is navy blue with white trim, and it matches his ear bonnet exactly. He looks like a pony out of a catalogue, and the sun sparkles off the rhinestones on Claudia’s helmet as she stops in front of me and holds out a leather gloved hand for Finn’s sweaty reins.
“Thanks.”
I scramble up the ramp and rummage around in the kitchen for my water bottle, eventually finding it and chugging back a few quick mouthfuls. The accommodation is a mess as usual, with Alec’s clothes scattered across the floor, and I kick some of them into the corner before walking back down the ramp to where Claudia’s waiting.
“Thanks,” I say as I take Finn’s reins from her. “I don’t know what’s up with Alec. Must be having another of his mood swings.” I’m joking, because Alec’s generally a pretty placid guy, but Claudia shrugs.
“Oh, you know. The usual stuff.” She gives me this look as if I’m supposed to know what she’s talking about, so I nod.
“Right.”
“So are you two going out yet, or are you still playing hard to get?”
I almost spit out my water, and stare at Claudia in astonishment. “Come again?”
“You and Alec.” She looks less confident about her teasing now. “I thought you’d be dating by now.”
“No way!” I tell her. “Not now and not ever. Ugh.” Belatedly I remember that Alec was going out with Claudia when I first met her a few months ago, and I backpedal. “He’s like my brother. Definitely no romantic interest there.”
“Sorry to offend you,” she mutters, and I can tell that she’s a bit hurt by my remarks.
I don’t know what to say next, so I toss my water back into the truck and remount Finn, then wait as Claudia swings up into her pony’s saddle. She falls in beside me with Titus and we ride back together towards the jumping rings. A couple of people’s heads turn as we pass, and I run my hand down Finn’s neck as her short mane flutters in the weak breeze.
“So how’s your day going?” Claudia asks eventually, and I smile.
“Super. Just went clear in the speed class to take the lead, so hopefully we can hang onto it, but there are still quite a few left to go.”
“Oh no, has it started already?” Claudia looks startled. “I thought we had heaps of time left. Alec said he was second in the draw, and he’s only just got on too.” She looks a bit panicked and picks up Titus’s reins abruptly, and he stumbles in astonishment.
I’m confused for a moment, before I realise the reason for her panic.
“No, I’m in the other ring,” I reassure her, as her pony recovers his balance. “Ring Two, the metre-five.”
Claudia huffs out a sigh of relief and drops her reins back onto Titus’s neck. “Man, you had me going for a second there. Heart attack!” She claps her pony’s neck and then looks at me curiously. “But why are you doing the baby stuff? You should be in Ring One with the rest of us. Finn can jump the socks off most of the ponies out there.”
I feel my face flush slightly as I scramble for an answer. “Well she’s only just come back in after she tore a huge chunk out of her heel at the start of the season,” I say, trying to make her injury sound more dramatic than it actually was. “And she got kicked in the knee, which swelled up like a balloon. So she lost fitness while she was out, and then Alec’s family has been really busy with stock last month and we only made it to one show.”
I try not to let my voice sound bitter about that. I’m lucky that they go to shows at all – if I was relying on Dad to take me places I’d never go anywhere.
Claudia nods slowly. “That’s a shame. I hope yo
u get her into some big classes soon. She can do them easily!”
“That’s the plan,” I quickly assure her.
I don’t want Claudia to think that I’m wasting my pony, and as we ride down the slope to the warm-ups, I compare the two jumping rings and realise that I’m definitely the poor cousin in this scenario. Ring One, where Claudia is headed, has sponsored fences covered in company logos, plastic flowers next to the jump standards, and bright poles that gleam with a fresh coat of paint. Next door, the Ring 2 jumps are smaller, shabbier and far less care has been taken over them. Not to mention that they’re substantially lower, and as Claudia pulls off into the Ring One warm-up area, I desperately want to follow her, to ride Finn through the gate and join those polished, professional riders. They’re the real contenders here, the ones serious about the sport of show jumping, trotting their fit ponies around competently while their dedicated parents sit on the sidelines, holding their other ponies’ reins and gossiping about everyone else’s kids. Even Alec’s shabbiness is lessened in effect by the way Jack’s muscles bunch in his hindquarters as he bounds over the practice jump with inches to spare, and I ride reluctantly on to the gate for Ring Two.
I get there just in time to see a girl re-enacting Tegan’s flying dismount from earlier in the class. She cries as she limps out of the ring, yanking angrily at her pony’s reins, and the announcer tells us that there are only three more riders to jump in this class. I halt Finn next to Abby, who’s sitting on a folding chair between the two rings, and lean down onto my pony’s neck to talk to her.
“Anyone beat my time yet?”
I’m hoping she’ll say no, but she nods. “Noah Jenkins and Tiana Ihimaera. Not by much though,” she adds by way of commiseration. “And you’re still third.”
“That’s better than nothing,” I say, trying not to sound too bitter or disappointed.
Abby shoots me a smile and rubs Finn’s forehead as a little girl on a patchy Appaloosa pony flies around the course in 52 seconds flat, pushing me down into fourth place. I try hard to push down my resentment that a kid whose skinny legs barely reach below her saddle flap has just beaten me so effortlessly. At least she looks like she belongs in here with the smaller jumps, I think bitterly, then sigh as I see her getting legged up onto a grey pony and trotting into the Ring One warm-up.