Clearwater Bay 2- Against the Clock

by Kate Lattey

  The collie sits up eagerly at the sound of her name, but I shake my head, glancing up at the overcast sky. “Looks like it might rain. I’ve got washing out on the line, so I better get home before it gets wet.”

  I turn to leave before Alec can say anything else and hurry back up the road, my mood as cloudy as the sky overhead.

  * * *

  Tegan sends me a text message that same afternoon.

  Guess u heard about the Cambridge team. Soz

  I glare at the phone’s screen bitterly, trying to be happy for my friend. With a determined sigh, I tell myself that if the tables were turned I’d expect her to support me, so I muster an enthusiastic response.

  Congrats! Guess Ghost isn’t so bad after all ;)

  Pfft I still wish I was riding Nugs. Ghost is soooo boring 2 ride he does everything right theres no challenge to it whatsoeva.

  Might make a nice change, I text back. Swap?

  Fully, if mum would let me but she’s power tripping as usual. Good news tho Nug just had a strain and hes gonna be back in work in a month or so! Cant wait :D Then Ghost can go back in the paddock where he belongs.

  I can feel my temper starting to fray, and I reply without thinking.

  Some of us wouldn’t mind having a pro pony to just get on and ride then we could all get into teams without even trying.

  I feel bad as soon as I’ve hit Send, but it’s too late to take it back now. Tegan fires back immediately, and I can tell I’ve hurt her feelings.

  Hey don’t get mad at me because Finn goes thru jumps not over them. Your the one that cant ride their pony not me

  I suck in a breath, my blood boiling. I throw my phone down on the bed and march downstairs, too angry to even respond to the person who is supposed to be my best friend. Not anymore. Not after a comment like that…

  I go into the kitchen and Chewy whines at the sight of me, his doggy senses immediately picking up on my foul mood. I fix him with a frosty glare.

  “That’s it,” I tell the dog. “Tegan is officially dead to me.”

  * * *

  Finn’s long legs devour the sand beneath her as I let my reins out, urging her to gallop on faster, and faster still. It’s the weekend of Cambridge, and I’m home alone because Dad has gone to stay with Nina. He’d been apologetic when he realised that I hadn’t made the team, and offered to cancel his plans, but I’d brushed him off and assured him that I’m more than capable of spending a couple of nights alone. Besides, I’ll have Chewy with me, so it’s not like I’ve been entirely abandoned.

  It was strange last night though, sleeping in the house without Dad, and I ended up letting Chewy upstairs with me for company. He thought it was a wonderful idea, but when he started snoring I had to send him back downstairs again, or I’d never have managed a wink of sleep.

  Finn shies at an incoming wave, and I feel myself slip in the saddle. I start to right myself, and have almost regained my balance when she spooks at a patch of seaweed in front of her, propping sharply on her forelegs. Before I have time to think, I’m flying through the air, then landing hard on the wet sand, my breath knocked out of me. I catch a glimpse of Finn as she jumps to the side to avoid stepping on me, then watch helplessly as she gallops away into the distance.

  I struggle into a sitting position as the waves lap across me, soaking my jodhpurs with salt water. I have to get up and go after my wayward pony, but my head is spinning and I blink, trying to refocus my eyes.

  “Stupid pony,” I mutter aloud, but the words come out all slurred, which startles me almost more than my fall did. I must’ve hit my head harder than I thought, and I raise a shaky hand to my helmet, wondering if it’s damaged. Dad will kill me if he has to buy me a new one.

  I’m still sitting in the water, trying to muster the strength to get to my feet when I hear hoofbeats approaching from behind me. I turn slowly, relieved, then my heart sinks further as I realise that the pony coming towards me is not my own fiery chestnut, but a light dappled grey.

  Natalie draws Spider to a halt and stares down at me. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” The words come out normally this time, thankfully. “Where’d Finn go?”

  Natalie raises a hand and points towards a path weaving through the sand dunes. “She took off up the road.”

  I groan and struggle to my feet, wobbling dangerously as I eventually stand up, and I put a hand on Spider’s warm neck to help me balance.

  “That looked like a pretty bad fall,” Natalie says, and I scowl up at her. The last thing I need is someone else rubbing it in that I’m a terrible rider.

  “She spooked at the waves.”

  “I saw. Did you hit your head?”

  “Yeah.” I look up at her, unwilling to ask her for help but knowing I have no choice. “I’m a bit dizzy. Will you go after Finn, make sure she’s okay?”

  I almost expect Natalie to refuse, but she doesn’t even roll her eyes or look mad. “Yeah, sure. You wait here.”

  She turns Spider away and canters off towards the dunes. I follow slowly, my boots squelching across the warm sand as the salt water drips down my legs. My head is still spinning and I’m feeling decidedly queasy. I want nothing more than to lie down and rest my aching head, but I have to find Finn. What if she’s been hit by a car, or slipped over on the road and hurt herself? I try to hurry, but the pounding in my head feels like someone’s whacking it with a blunt object, and the faster I try to go, the more the road tilts around me.

  After what feels like an age, but is probably only a few minutes, I hear hooves on the road ahead and look up through the shimmering haze to see Natalie trotting back towards me. Spider is flexed and on the bit, his legs reaching forward, body straight and balanced, and jealousy rages inside of me as she brings him back to a smooth walk. Why can’t I have a pony like that?

  “She’s just up the road,” Natalie calls to me. “She turned off down the McKendricks’ driveway and took herself into their front paddock. She ran away from me so I shut the gate behind her and came back for you.”

  My legs go weak in relief that Finn is okay, but my joy is short-lived.

  “We’d better hurry though,” Natalie adds. “Because I think it’s one of Doug’s hay paddocks, and he’s not going to be too thrilled to find a pony trampling around in it.”

  I groan and try to quicken my pace, but my head is still throbbing.

  “I’m going as fast as I can,” I snap at Natalie, then feel bad because she’s helped me out a whole lot today, even when I wouldn’t have expected her to. She could just as easily have ridden off and left me to fend for myself after my fall. “Sorry. It’s just that my head’s killing me right now.”

  Natalie gazes down at me as she rides Spider alongside, holding his long-striding walk back to match my pace. “You’ve probably got concussion.”

  “Probably,” I mutter as we reach the McKendricks’ driveway and I look over to see Finn marching through the belly-high grass, tearing up chunks as she goes. “Oh, no.”

  Spider decides to help by whinnying loudly, and for a wonder, Finn turns and whinnies back at him. Spider calls to her again, and Finn moves towards him. I cross my fingers tightly as I glance nervously up the driveway, dreading the sight of an irate farmer wanting to know why my pony is flattening his hay crop. But there’s no sign of anyone, and when I fish a dirty mint out of my pocket and hold it out to Finn, she lips it up willingly and lets me grab her reins.

  I lead her out of the paddock and shut the gate firmly behind me with a sigh of relief.

  “At least something went right today,” I mutter as I straighten her wayward saddle and untwist her reins, preparing to mount.

  Natalie looks at me doubtfully. “Are you sure you should be riding?”

  “No other way to get her home,” I point out. “And I can hardly leave her here. I’ll be fine.”

  I raise my foot to the stirrup and swing myself up. My head spins so much as I settle into the saddle that I have to grab at Finn’s m
ane to keep my balance, and my stomach churns more than ever. I wonder distractedly if I’m going to throw up, and whether Finn would tolerate it or if I’d have to dismount. I’m not sure I could get back on if I did.

  “I’ll come with you,” Natalie decides. I look at her in surprise, and she gives me a determined look. “What? Someone has to catch your pony if you fall off again.”

  I can’t even be bothered arguing. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  I’m feeling better by the time we reach the bottom of Valley Road, and I tell Natalie that I can go on the rest of the way by myself. But there’s no getting rid of her.

  “I might as well ride up with you, since I’m already here,” she replies, turning Spider up the road as Finn scuttles in pursuit.

  “Why are you helping me?” I ask, trying to persuade Finn to walk steadily. Her incessant jig-jogging is making my head throb, but she can’t be convinced to quit so I just have to suffer through it. “You don’t even like me.”

  Natalie gives me a strange look. “You’re hurt. I could hardly just leave you lying on the beach and ride away.”

  The tone of her voice implies that it’s just the natural thing to do, that I’d have done the same for her. Of course I would have, I tell myself. Who wouldn’t? An uneasy thought shuffles into my mind, but I ignore it, focusing instead on the pressure of my helmet against my sore head. I push it back slightly, grateful that I was wearing it at all. Otherwise this headache could’ve been a whole lot worse.

  The Harrisons’ farmyard is as empty as it was when I left, the dead patches of grass where Liam’s ute is usually parked still exposed to the sun. I pull Finn to a halt near the yards and ease myself back to the ground. My knees aren’t being terribly supportive, and I have to grab at my pony’s neck to keep my balance when I land. I take a breath as Natalie looks down at me with obvious concern.

  “I’ll help you untack,” she decides, sliding easily down from Spider’s saddle and leading him into the empty yard next to Finn before running up his stirrups and threading his reins under the irons.

  “You don’t have to do that. I’m fine, really.” I keep trying to convince her, but she’s not buying it.

  “You’ve got a concussion, and a pretty nasty one. What I really should’ve done was taken you back to my place and called your Dad to pick you up and take you to the hospital for observation.”

  I scoff as I unbuckle Finn’s bridle. “It’s not that bad. You make it sound like I’m dying.” It’s taking longer than usual, because for some reason my hands won’t do quite what I tell them to, and I fumble over the throatlatch as Finn impatiently tosses her head, wanting the uncomfortable straps removed from her sweaty face.

  “It can easily be that bad,” Natalie retorts, unbuckling Finn’s girth and pulling the saddle from her back in one easy motion. “No point playing fast and loose with head injuries. A concussion is a brain bruise, and can take a long time to heal.” She turns to face me as I finally get Finn’s bridle off and let my mare scrub her itchy head on my shoulder.

  “What are you, some kind of medical expert?”

  “Someday maybe,” she replies easily. “But this is First Aid 101. And seriously, get your Dad to take you to a doctor, or at the very least, monitor you very closely. Have him watch for any changes in behaviour, dizzy spells, that kind of thing. And tell him to check you several times during the night, in case…”

  I cut her off right there. “I can’t. He’s away all weekend,” I tell her. “I’m home alone.”

  If I had full function of my brain, I probably wouldn’t have told her that. I would’ve just nodded and gone along with it, and let her think that Dad was home. But truth be told, I’m a little scared now. I’m still dizzy and feel nauseous, and I don’t want to be a statistic who falls asleep and never wakes up. I’ve heard that can happen to people, and the thought of it makes me shudder.

  “You can’t stay home alone,” Natalie says decisively, shifting my saddle in her arms. “Come to my place for the night. I’m home alone as well, actually, but at least I can keep an eye on you.”

  I can’t imagine anything worse, and I try to shake my head without wincing.

  “I have to look after Chewy,” I tell her. “I can’t leave him home on his own. The dog,” I add belatedly. “He hates being left alone overnight.” It’s true. For such a big dog, Chewy is an absolute wimp after dark. As a guard dog, he’s not really much use, but he’s got a loud bark and looks intimidating if you don’t know what a sook he actually is.

  Natalie frowns again, two deep creases appearing between her perfectly shaped eyebrows. “I’d say bring him down, but Mum will have a conniption if there’s been a dog in her house, so…” She looks me directly in the eye, her expression grim but determined. “I’ll have to come to yours.”

  “That’s really not necessary.”

  “I wish it wasn’t,” she replies. “But I’m not going to be the one to tell your Dad that I left you alone even though I knew there was something wrong when he comes home and finds you in a coma on the couch.”

  “How do you know so much about all this, anyway?” I ask Natalie an hour later, when we’re both sitting in my kitchen and waiting for the jug to boil. She’d helped me to put Finn back into the paddock, then ridden Spider home and driven back up in her family’s SUV. I’d been under strict instructions to sit at the Harrisons’ and wait, but Liam had arrived back and I hadn’t felt like dealing with him, so I’d walked home instead, much to Natalie’s dissatisfaction.

  “About what?” She poured the hot water over the teabags and prodded one with a spoon, encouraging it to steep.

  “Medical stuff. Are you planning on being a doctor?”

  “Maybe. If I get into med school. It’s super competitive, and I’m not sure I’ll make the grades.” She pours milk into the mugs and hands me one, then sits down opposite me at the kitchen table.

  “You’ll be fine,” I assure her, remembering how she’s always top of the class at school. I’ve often wondered how she can be bothered being such a swot, but it’s starting to make sense. “It must be nice to know what you want to do with your life. I haven’t got a clue.”

  Natalie blows on her hot tea, trying to cool it down. “Will you go back to England to study?”

  “Maybe,” I shrug. “Probably not. I’m not brainy enough to get into the top Universities, so there’s not much point when I could get just as good of an education here. Not that my Gran sees it that way. She thinks I should be following in my mother’s footsteps. Oxford,” I clarify off Natalie’s curious look. “Marine biology. Weird choice, since we never lived anywhere near the sea, and she never really used it for anything. She loved it though.” My voice drifts off as I feel my eyes starting to close. I just want to lie down and go to sleep, but Natalie clears her throat, then kicks me under the table.

  “Stay awake,” she orders me, then changes the subject. “So where’s your dad gone this weekend?”

  “Rotorua. With his girlfriend.” I try not to sound bitter, but it doesn’t work.

  Natalie, to her credit, notices my discomfort and picks up a different thread. “Roto-vegas, huh?” she teases, using the nickname often given to the town’s touristy vibe. “You ever been?”

  “Nope. Haven’t seen much of New Zealand, to be honest. Just here, and wherever we go to shows. How about you?” I ask, eager to get her talking again so I won’t have to think so much. Or at all.

  “I think I’ve seen just about every corner of this country,” she replies. “My parents are big on family holidays. You name it, we’ve been there.” There’s a pause, then she keeps talking as I sip at my scalding hot tea. “Queenstown’s my favourite. The mountains and the lakes are just mind-blowingly beautiful. Mum likes the Hawke’s Bay. All the wineries,” she grins. “And Brooke’s favourite is Tawharanui, in the Far North. We camped out there for a week one time, and she had the time of her life. Swimming every day, and the water’s as warm as a bathtub up there in the summer. Clambe
ring around in the rock pools, poking anemones and counting crabs, trying to find starfish. The highlight of her trip was when I accidently disturbed a wasp’s nest on the side of a hill and got chased all the way down.” Her expression turns wry as I can’t help cracking a smile. “Not exactly a highlight for me, spending the rest of the week nursing my wounds.”

  “Sounds memorable,” I manage to say.

  Natalie shrugs and carries on, telling me more stories about their family camping trips. I know she’s just trying to keep me awake and focused, but as the afternoon fades into dusk, I grow to have a whole new appreciation of her family dynamic. The workaholic father being dragged out into the wilderness in an attempt to get him to relax and unwind. The bossy mother determined that her family will see the country and commune with nature, whether they want to or not. The spoiled little sister clamouring to be the centre of attention and throwing hissy fits when she doesn’t get her way. And Natalie herself, trapped in the middle of the chaos, trying to keep a lid on everyone’s tempers without losing her own.

  Chewy gets up and whines as Natalie finishes off a long story about a stray cat that they’d found wandering around a campground and had hidden amongst their luggage to try and smuggle her home.

  “We thought if we got her all the way home, Mum and Dad wouldn’t be able to say no to letting us keep her. But she wasn’t a very good hider, and we got found out within the first twenty minutes. Ten minutes after that we stopped off at a nearby SPCA where Mum made us hand her in.” She looks down at Chewy and rubs his head. He whines again, and I get to my feet. “I hope she got adopted, found a good home.”

  “I’m sure she did.” I open to the cupboard where we keep Chewy’s food and scoop out a cupful. He starts drooling immediately, and I dodge the long strands of saliva as I tip the food into his bowl, and he stuffs his face into it. “Gross. Excuse his lack of table manners.”

  Natalie smiles. “He’s fine. He’s a cute dog.”