Clearwater Bay 2- Against the Clock

by Kate Lattey

  CHAPTER TEN

  Natalie gets up early the next morning, turning down my offer of a cooked breakfast and reminding me to take it easy.

  “Your brain’s still bruised, remember?”

  “As if I could forget,” I tell her. I’ve just slogged down some more painkillers, but my neck is aching and I feel stiff as a board.

  “Just stay inside for the day,” Natalie recommends as she pulls her boots on at the front door. “Watch TV or something. When’s your dad home?”

  “This evening.” I look past her at the bright blue sky, and know I’ll have to walk down to the Harrisons’ shortly and take rugs off the ponies before they overheat. “What are you up to today?”

  “I’ve got a lesson this morning, then Mum will be home at midday and we’re going into town for haircut.” She pulls a face as she straightens up, flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder.

  “Who do you have lessons with?” I’ve followed her onto the verandah, and we stand in the early sunlight, the dew glittering on the lawn that’s quickly getting out of control again.

  “Amanda Hannigan. She’s really good.”

  The name rings a bell, in a vague sort of way. “Lucky you.” I tell myself not to be jealous, that there are a whole lot of parts to Natalie’s life that I wouldn’t trade with her, but I have to admit that riding lessons are not one of them. Regular one-on-one coaching sounds very appealing right about now.

  Natalie smiles briefly as she steps off the verandah and walks towards her mother’s shiny black SUV, twirling the keys around her finger.

  “Wait!”

  She stops and turns back towards me, and I shiver as my bare feet hit the cool grass. I’m still wearing my pyjamas, and Chewy is slobbering down my legs, but I have to ask.

  “Would you mind if I came to watch?”

  I learn a lot that morning, and have gained a new appreciation for the art of Show Hunter by the end of Natalie’s lesson. Amanda has her riding without stirrups to get her legs still, then holding her reins upside down to keep her hands soft, and practicing transitions and trot fences and rollbacks and all kinds of things that I had no idea you even have to do in Show Hunter. I’d always thought it was just cantering around posing in the saddle, but now the only thing I’m still sure about is that Finn would be absolutely rubbish at it.

  As Natalie walks Spider out on a loose rein, her long legs dangling next to the stirrups and wincing as she stretches her muscles, Amanda wanders over to me and smiles.

  “Learn anything?”

  “Heaps,” I admit. “I thought Show Hunter looked boring, but it’s probably a lot harder than I realised.”

  “Nice to hear,” Amanda smiles. “It takes a lot of work to make it look easy.”

  I get a flashback to Steph jumping Finn, flying effortlessly over huge fences while I still couldn’t get her over a simple vertical. “I know.”

  “Nat says you’re into your show jumping. Not in the market for a pony, are you? I’ve got a friend with an ex-Grand Prix pony for sale. He’s sixteen, so he’s going fairly cheap, but he’s fit as a fiddle and still has plenty of jump in him. Perfect schoolmaster, confidence-builder for a rider wanting to learn how to get up the heights. Absolutely no-fuss, what you see is what you get kind of pony. Know anyone who’d be keen?”

  I bite my lip, my thoughts whirling. The only person I can think of who wants a pony like that is me. Not that I want to lose Finn, but the thought of an experienced Grand Prix pony is very appealing. If I bought a schoolmaster I could sell Finn to Claudia, or someone like her. Someone who could school her properly and fulfil her potential. Someone who would take her to the top without making every single possible mistake along the way. And in the meantime I could have a pony who knows its job, who’s calm and confident and can instil the same in me. The schoolmaster pony that I’ve always wanted…

  “Maybe,” I say. “I might be in the market myself.”

  Saying the words out loud makes me feel like a traitor to my pony, but then Steph’s words come back to me again. Can’t ride it to save her life. Hate to see a good pony being wasted. Maybe it’s time to admit that Finn would be better off without me – and as my head throbs again, I wonder if I might even be better off without her.

  Amanda looks pleased. “He’ll be competing at Waitemata next weekend, so if you’re going, you should keep an eye out for him. He’s only just gone on the market, and he’ll be snapped up quick, but Jo wants him to go to a good home. He’ll teach you the ropes, he knows everything there is to know about show jumping. One of the best ponies out there, in my opinion. And he could do the Show Hunters too, he’s got super rhythm and a gorgeous jump.” Amanda waves goodbye to Natalie and steps out of the arena. “His name’s Backbeat, or Buzz for short. Ask around about him, he’s a legend.”

  * * *

  When Alec gets home from Cambridge, I go down to the farm and find him unpacking the truck.

  “So how’d it go?”

  He shrugs, throwing an armload of covers onto the ramp. “Not great. Sarah and I managed a couple of clear rounds each, but we stuffed up the Jigsaw big time, and Mickey stopped at the Joker. The rest of them weren’t much better, and I think we finished eleventh.”

  “That’s a shame,” I commiserate, but internally I’m pleased. If they’d won, I’d have felt much worse about missing out, and I start stacking the buckets that he’s been throwing onto the driveway.

  “Oh well. Life goes on,” Alec says with a shrug. “How was your sleepover with Natalie? Riveting, I’ll bet.”

  He gives me a sly grin as he throws a cover down the ramp, and I’m surprised by a sudden feeling of defensiveness at his comments. Don’t judge her, you don’t even know her, I want to say, but I stop myself. For all I know, Natalie and I could go back to being enemies tomorrow. No point getting carried away until I know whether anything has really changed between us.

  “It was fine,” I say noncommittally, then change the subject. “Hey, have you heard of a pony called Backbeat?”

  “Yeah, sure. Dark bay pony, used to do the Grand Prix. I think Jo Simpson has it, though I heard she’s selling him.”

  I nod. “I’m thinking of trying him at Waitemata.”

  Alec stares at me like I’ve grown an extra head. “You? Why? What’s wrong with your pony?”

  I blush. “Nothing’s wrong with her. It’s just that it’s going to take ages to get her to Grand Prix, and Buzz knows it all, and he can teach me the ropes.” I say the words that Amanda had used so convincingly, but they don’t seem to be working on Alec.

  “But it’s ancient. And Finn’ll jump Grand Prix easy. Isn’t that what Steph said?”

  “Steph said she’s an amazing pony but it’s a shame about the rider,” I tell him, saying it out loud for the first time, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. Easy enough for him to look down on me, with his years of experience in riding and producing ponies from scratch. “Anyway, keep your hair on. I just said I might try him.”

  “Waste of time if you ask me,” Alec replies. “Even if you get a decent season out of him, there’s no guarantee that he’ll stay sound or be competitive at Grand Prix, and then in the end you’ll be stuck with an old, possibly unsound pony that nobody will buy off you. Finn’s only eight, she’s got loads of years ahead of her.” He shakes his head at me as he throws another empty bucket down the ramp, and I sidestep it to avoid being hit in the head.

  “Hey, I’ve already got concussion,” I remind him. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  Alec looks guilty. “Oh yeah, I forgot. How’s your head?”

  “Sore.”

  “That explains it though,” he says as he throws another bucket towards me, and I sidestep to avoid it.

  “Explains what?”

  “Why you’re coming up with such a crazy idea,” he says with a laugh. “Selling Finn. Hah! Good one.”

  I try to smile back as I pick up the buckets and take them to the hose to scrub out, the dream of a owni
ng a schoolmaster slipping away once more.

  * * *

  “Now in the ring we have Backbeat, ridden by Joanna Simpson.”

  I watch the pony as he trots into the ring, then moves up into a steady canter. Buzz is a plain-looking dark bay, solidly built without a fleck of white on him. There’s nothing eye-catching or spectacular about him, but he looks relaxed about life, and jumps calmly around the 1.10m course, notching up a tidy clear round. As he walks back to the gate with his reins sitting loose on his neck, I see Amanda standing nearby, and start walking towards her as the loudspeaker crackles.

  “Clear jumping but one time fault for Backbeat,” the announcer says, and I see Jo groan and collapse onto her pony’s solid neck as Amanda shakes her head at her ruefully.

  “I told you to cut inside the planks,” she chastises Jo, then sees me and smiles. “Oh, hi there. This is the pony I was telling you about the other day,” she tells me without preamble.

  Jo sits up, and her eyes light up with interest as she looks me over. “Are you the girl who’s interested in Buzz?” she asks.

  “Maybe,” I reply, holding a hand out to Buzz, who snuffles me in a friendly way.

  “He’s the coolest pony around, and it breaks my heart to sell him, but I’m going to Uni and I’m not going to have time to ride him anymore. I’m already seventeen and I was going to do Pony of the Year on him, but I broke my arm in November and couldn’t ride for ages, and he got fat and unfit, so we’ve run out of time to qualify. And I’ve grown stupidly tall in the last few months, so I’m a bit big for him now anyway. But he’s more than capable. He was sixth two years ago.” She slides her feet out of the stirrups and dismounts. “Do you want a ride?”

  I hesitate. I’m not supposed to be riding for at least another week, or so the doctor told me, which is why Finn was reluctantly scratched from this weekend’s show. Alec did suggest bringing her along and asking Claudia to ride her for me, but I’d baulked at the idea of standing on the sidelines and watching someone else ride my pony better than I can. Especially when I would have to get back on her the following weekend and try to live up to what the whole show jumping world would then know she’s capable of. It’s bad enough that everyone at camp saw her jump so well with Steph - I’m not sure my ego could take it if she jumped perfectly for Claudia too.

  Buzz nudges me gently, his big dark eyes looking serious. “Okay, why not?” I agree, then glance down at my shorts and trainers. “I’ll just go back to the truck and get changed.” I’d still packed my riding gear this morning, just in case. “Be right back.”

  Buzz is wider than Finn, his stride is steadier, and he feels very solid and dependable beneath me, as though nothing is too much trouble. I’ll do whatever you want me to, he seems to be saying as I nudge him into a canter. Just ask.

  Jo encourages me to try him over the practice jump, and as she builds the fence higher and higher, Buzz stays calm and steady, sizing up the jump and clearing it neatly every time. It’s like all of the work except steering and staying on has been taken out of the equation, and I start to relax and really enjoy myself. Cantering down to a big oxer that I would be terrified to jump on Finn, I can hardly believe that it could be this easy - but on Buzz, it is. He just adjusts his own stride and flies over, lands and canters steadily on.

  I pat him enthusiastically as Jo says it’s time to give him a break.

  “Do you like him?”

  “I love him!” I tell her, and I mean it. “He’s amazing, he’s so easy to ride.”

  “You look really good on him,” she tells me. “He likes you.” She looks at me thoughtfully. “He’s entered in a metre-fifteen class this afternoon. Do you want to do it on him?”

  I stare at her in shock. “Me?”

  “Why not?”

  I think about telling her all of the reasons why it’s a bad idea, starting with my current track record at that height being completely abysmal, and ending with my concussion and the fact that my head is already feeling a bit swirly. But I want to do it so badly that it’s hard to say no. As I’m trying to decide, I look across the practice arena and see Tegan cantering Ghost down to the fence I just cleared on Buzz. Ghost jumps it easily, and I decide that I’ve had enough of being left behind.

  “I’d love to.”

  Despite Jo’s reassurance and Buzz’s calm confidence, I’m feeling nervous as I trot into the ring for the metre-fifteen. People keep saying how it’s a really tough course, and Alec has just been out on Jack and had three rails down. I take a deep breath as the bell rings, and squeeze the pony into a canter.

  “Next to jump will be Jay Evans, riding Backbeat.” It sounds weird not to have Finn’s name announced in conjunction with mine, and Buzz’s dark bay neck and black mane look foreign in front of me. His saddle feels hard and slippery, and my stirrups much too short as I canter towards the first jump. It looms up in front of us, looking impossibly big, yet I know that it’s the smallest one on the course. I tell myself to get a grip, sit down and put my leg on. Buzz barely seems to notice my nerves, cantering up to the fence and jumping over without batting an eyelid. I start to relax as I turn him towards the second fence, and after we clear it easily, I realise that I’m actually looking forward to getting to the next jump. I hadn’t realised just how nervous I get when I’m jumping Finn. Riding her, every fence is a struggle. Riding Buzz, every fence is a piece of cake.

  It’s not perfect, and I miss at a couple of jumps, getting a bit left behind, but he still scrapes over cleanly despite me, and I’m grinning from ear to ear as we canter through the finish flags.

  “A clear round for Backbeat, so we’ll see him back for the jump off.”

  Jo is delighted, brushing aside my apologies for the bad distances as she scratches Buzz behind the ears.

  “He doesn’t care if you’re wrong. You don’t have to worry about being perfect or getting things right for him. He’ll always look after you out there.”

  I walk Buzz around on a loose rein while I wait for the rest of the class to finish. There were only four riders left to jump, and none of them go clear.

  “There’s only three of you in the jump off,” Jo tells me. “Tough competition though. Flying High is super fast on the turns, I’ve never beaten him yet, and Toucan Tango will jump off some insane angles. You’re up first, so just ride for a steady clear and hope they both take rails.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  I run over the jump off course in my mind as I get summoned back into the ring, and wait for my bell. I’m no longer nervous, taking my confidence from Buzz, and he jumps another clear round. I can’t stop patting him as I ride out of the ring, and Jo is equally thrilled.

  “That was super! You rode him really well. You guys look so good together.”

  “He’s amazing,” I gush, keeping an eye on the grey pony who has just started its round. The boy riding is clearly very competitive, and I gasp as he spins the pony on its hocks between the fences, going faster and faster as the pony flies around the course. His speed is his undoing though, and he knocks the planks down, finishing on four faults.

  The other pony is a liver chestnut skewbald that looks familiar, and as it throws its head around between the jumps, I suddenly recognise it.

  “That pony jumped in Pony of the Year last year,” I say in astonishment as the girl takes a smooth turn to the planks and jumps them cleanly. “It came third or fourth or something.”

  “Yeah, that’s the one,” Jo says calmly. “It’s a bit hit and miss though. Either wins everything or crashes through all the jumps. Not very consistent.”

  But today must be one of the coloured pony’s good days, because it shows a clean set of heels over every jump and finishes with a very fast clear round to win the class.

  “Bugger. Oh well, I guess she deserves it. And you’re second,” Jo tells me, and I stare at her.

  Second place, in my first class on this pony, and over this height… I’m amazed. Show jumping has always been such a challenge w
ith Finn. Success has been something we’ve striven for and struggled towards, often faltering, rarely achieving anything. Is it actually possible that it can be this easy?

  Jo stops to talk to some friends while I ride Buzz back to her truck, so I’m on my own as I walk him along the lane between the parked vehicles. I see Steph Marshall’s truck up ahead, and she’s sitting on the ramp eating lunch. She glances up at me as I pass, and I say hello. She nods, then does a double take as she recognises me, and her eyes narrow as she looks at the pony I’m riding.

  “Isn’t that Backbeat?”

  “Yeah.”

  She looks surprised. “You riding him for Jo?”

  I shake my head. “I’m just trying him out.”

  Steph picks up a sandwich and looks at it disparagingly, then takes a small bite. “Didn’t know you were in the market for another one.”

  I shrug, and decide I might as well go all in with honesty. “I wasn’t, but I think he’s just changed my mind,” I tell her, rubbing Buzz’s solid neck. “So if you know anyone who’d want to buy Finn, let me know.”

  Steph almost chokes on her lunch. “You’re not selling your chestnut pony to buy that?!”

  I stare at her with an equal measure of surprise. Of all people, I was sure that she’d approve of the decision most. “Why not?”

  “He’s a has-been. He was a decent pony once, but he’s been thrashed around the circuit for years, and he’s only got a season or two left in him. Don’t set your sights so low. Your chestnut is worth ten of him.”

  “But I can’t ride her,” I remind Steph bluntly.

  Steph shrugs, unfazed. “Well, right now you can’t. But that doesn’t mean you can’t learn. And if you give up now, you’ll never know either way,” she says, then walks into her truck without a backwards glance.

  * * *

  I’m sitting at the kitchen table that evening with Buzz’s blue ribbon in my hands when the door opens, and Nina walks in.