by Kate Lattey
“So you’re just going to stalk off with your nose in the air?” Tegan asks. “I guess Natalie’s superiority complex really is contagious.”
I’ve heard enough. “You started this, remember? Do you really think that you can ditch me and refuse to talk to me for weeks, and not expect me to make other friends?”
Tegan huffs out an angry breath as the bell rings. “Fine. Go and have your slow munter lessons and be boring, see if I care. Good riddance.”
She marches away from me without so much as a backward glance, and I bite back the urge to yell an insult after her. It would only draw attention to me, and she’s been swallowed up in the mass of students now as everyone heads inside. I shrug my backpack higher onto my shoulder and join the crush, trying to remember why Tegan and I ever became friends in the first place.
* * *
Two days later, Finn is jogging impatiently down the road towards the Westcotts’ farm, tossing her head and spooking at imaginary things in the grass, and I’m doing my best not to have my arms tugged out of their sockets. Too many days spent schooling in the paddock has made my pony fidgety and excitable when I ride her out, but despite Alec’s insistence that more hacking would do her good, I can’t bring myself to do it. If Finn’s not well-schooled enough at HOY and lets the whole team down, I’ll never live it down. But lately it seems as though the harder I try, the worse Finn goes.
This lesson couldn’t have come at a better time, and I check my pocket once more for the cash to pay Amanda, reassuring myself that it’s still there. I didn’t bother asking Dad for it, instead using the prize money I won at Gisborne to cover Amanda’s coaching fee. I just hope it’s going to be worth it.
Natalie is cantering Spider in a smooth circle, and Finn throws her head up and whinnies loudly to greet him. Spider lifts his head to look at her, and Natalie has to work to get his attention back on her. I halt my fussing pony next to the arena gate and slide to the ground, my face flushing.
Finn crops the lush grass at the arena edge for the next few minutes while Natalie finishes up, then Amanda walks over to me, casting a critical eye over Finn.
“So this is your pony.”
I quickly pull Finn’s head up, and she lays her ears back testily at having her meal interrupted. Her forelock is sticking up at odd angles and she has grass hanging from both sides of her mouth - hardly making a stellar first impression.
“Yeah, this is Finn.”
“She’s a nice-looking pony. Nat says you’ve been training with Abby Brooks?”
I nod. “Over the holidays. She went super when we were there, but I already feel like we’re going backwards, and we’re in the teams event at HOY so can’t afford to lose any form.”
She nods. “Hop on then, and let’s see what we’ve got to work with.”
Amanda is a tough instructor, firmly drilling me as I trot Finn in circles around her. Some of her exercises are similar to what Abby had me doing, spiralling in and out on circles, and she constantly drills me on my hand and leg position, insisting on nothing less than perfection at all times.
We do eventually get some jumping in, and Finn goes well, only knocking one rail when I lose focus coming out of a turn. After the first few fences we start working as a team, and fly around a short course at the end of the lesson.
Amanda pats Finn’s sweaty neck appreciatively as I pull up next to her. “Nicely ridden. Just keep working on those exercises on the flat. There’s no need to jump her too much, maybe once a week to keep your eye in, but don’t overdo it.”
I nod. “I’ll try. She’s been good today, but she doesn’t like being schooled very much, and I feel like I keep making things worse instead of better.”
“You can always school her when you’re out hacking,” Amanda says. “Schooling doesn’t have to be done on a circle. Bend her around the corners of the road, do lots of transitions, insist on a good quality of pace and maintain a steady rhythm. Don’t just gallop her around, but don’t shut her in a paddock either or you’ll just make her mad. And if you’re going to have any chance of winning at HOY, you’re going to want her on your side.”
* * *
“Aren’t you going to miss the bus?”
I shake my head at Dad as I walk across the kitchen in my pyjamas and get the bread out of the fridge. “No school. It’s a Teacher’s Only day.”
“Huh.” He shoves a file of paperwork into his briefcase and zips it shut. “I guess I’ll take your word for it.”
“As you should.” I take in his carefully ironed shirt and dark green tie. “You’re looking a bit smarter than usual. What gives?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’ve got a meeting in Hamilton. Official uniform,” he points out, tugging at the tie which has a Dept of Conservation logo on it.
“Lucky you.” I take two pieces of bread out of the bag, then pull a face. “Dad, the bread’s gone mouldy again.”
“It’s penicillin. It’s good for you,” he replies, then grins at my disgusted expression. “Sorry. I’ll get some more while I’m out.”
“That doesn’t help me with breakfast,” I point out. “Especially since you ate the last of the Weetbix.” Dad looks a bit helpless, so I decide to help him out. “Tell you what. Give me ten minutes to get dressed and I’ll come into Hamilton with you and go shopping while you’re in your super dull meeting. And as an added bonus, I’ll even let you buy me breakfast on the way.”
My stomach is already rumbling as we drive down our road, and I’m looking forward to stopping in at the nearest McDonald’s for a breakfast muffin. Unfortunately that’s still fifteen minutes away, and when we turn onto Base Hill Rd and meet Jim Delaney on his tractor, my heart sinks. He immediately waves Dad down, and starts climbing off his tractor as Dad slows the ute and pulls over to the side of the road.
“Do you have to stop? I’m starving!” I protest.
“Bit rude not to. I’ll keep it quick,” Dad insists, but I know a false promise when I hear one. Jim is ranting before he even reaches Dad’s rolled-down window, firing off a long diatribe against people who sell our land to foreigners.
“We’ll be overrun by bloody Poms in no time. It shouldn’t be allowed, and I want to know what you’re going to do about it!”
He’s spitting as he talks, and I lean back against the window to stay out of the firing line. Jim rests a leathery arm on the sill of Dad’s car door and leans through the window, pinning my father back against his seat.
“I’ve done all I can about the land the McKendricks sold,” Dad tells him calmly. “Unfortunately, you know as well as I do that there’s nothing I can do now to stop them using the land as a camping ground.”
Jim isn’t taking no for an answer. “That’s what you say, but it was your bloody woman who got our resource consent opposition overturned. Can’t you keep her in line?”
Dad looks angry now, and I realise Jim’s referring to Nina. “That’ll do, Jim,” Dad says firmly. He starts the ute up again, and revs it as Jim tries to yell over the loud diesel engine. “We’re done here.”
And he drives on, leaving Jim standing in the middle of the road shaking his fist at him, still swearing blue murder.
“He’s not very happy with you,” I comment, and Dad chuckles.
“You could say that.”
“Was Nina really your opposition in the campsite development?” I ask him curiously, and he nods.
“How we met, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” I point out to him. “Is it?”
He glances at me. “Yeah. That’s what I meant. It’s how we met,” he translates.
“This is another Kiwi slang thing that I don’t get, isn’t it?” I look at him and he raises his eyebrows. “That was an actual question.”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess it is.”
“I thought coming to a country that spoke English would eliminate the need for translation,” I mutter, and he chuckles.
I look back over my shoulder as we head out of Clearwater Bay, watch
ing the waves break on the crescent shore. I wonder what it’s going to look like in a few years, if tourists do start coming here. Will there be more buildings on the peaceful water’s edge? Tents dotted along the shoreline, motorhomes clogging up the roads in and out of the Bay? As I ponder this, I remember something I’ve been meaning to ask Dad about.
“Hey, I haven’t seen Nina for a while. I’ve been meaning to thank her for talking me into calling Abby. That was the best decision I ever made, and it was entirely her idea.”
Dad drums his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, and the mood in the car is suddenly tense.
“Did you guys break up or something?” I’m half teasing, expecting him to say Of course not, but he doesn’t.
“I guess you could say that.”
“Oh.” I look at his face, so closed-off, and feel sad for him. “I’m sorry.”
Dad replies quickly – too quickly. “It wasn’t your fault.”
If he hadn’t said that, or if he hadn’t said it so reflexively, it wouldn’t have crossed my mind that it was. But now I’m left wondering, and when he swiftly changes the subject, I suspect that he’s inadvertently told me the truth. I guess Nina decided she didn’t want to put up with me after all. Can’t say I really blame her, but I feel bad about it, if only for Dad’s sake. He really did seem to like her.
We drive on, and I answer his questions about Finn, well aware that he’s picked the one topic he knows I can talk about forever. I oblige by giving him detailed accounts of my latest schooling sessions, and he nods along, pretending to listen as we drive the rest of the way into Hamilton.
Two hours later, I’m sitting on the wooden bench on Main Street, watching people wander past and wondering about their secret inner lives, when my phone rings. It’s Dad.
“You’re late,” I greet him. “Didn’t we say half past twelve? It’s almost one, and I haven’t ridden Finn yet.”
He sighs. “Sorry mate, but this meeting’s running over time and I’m going to be stuck here for another hour or so. Can you find something to entertain yourself for a bit longer?”
I sigh, but I don’t really have a choice. “I guess so.”
“Cheers. I’ll be as quick as I can. Meet you back at the car at two.”
“Okay.”
He hangs up, and I look at the phone in irritation. He can’t help it, I know, and at least he rang and told me, but I’m already bored out of my head. The idea of going around the shops had been good in theory, but I’m trying to save my money so I have more to spend at Horse of the Year, so my shopping has been very limited. And it turns out that wandering around a city on your own is boring – especially one as dull as Hamilton.
But there’s no point sitting around feeling sorry for myself, so I get up and wander on down the street, glancing in shop windows idly as I pass. I’m debating going into a bookstore and finding something to read for a while when a sign on a narrow doorway catches my eye, and I stop.
West Coast Environmental Lawyers, followed by a list of names, one of which is Nina’s. After a moment spent staring at the glass-fronted door and wondering whether I have the courage to go in, I take a breath and make myself enter the building. It’s not as though I have anything to lose, after all, and Dad might have something to gain.
The receptionist looks startled when I walk into the upstairs office, and I see her swiftly click off her Facebook page as she turns to greet me. Her expression changes as she takes in my jandals and shorts, and I brush my hair back self-consciously as she plasters a fake smile on her face.
“Can I help you?”
“Is Nina here?”
Her eyes travel back up and down me, and I start to squirm slightly. “She’s in a meeting.”
“Oh.” I take a step backwards, then make myself stop. “Will she be long?”
“Probably.”
The receptionist turns back to her computer again, and I realise I’m being dismissed. Rude. I’m about to leave when a door opens, and Nina comes out. She’s immaculately dressed in tailored trousers and a silk blouse, and she notices me right away.
“Jay! What brings you here?” She looks astonished to see me, but not displeased. “Is everything okay?”
I nod quickly. “Fine. I just…I was in town and I thought I’d stop in to say hi.”
“Of course! I’d love to catch up. Can you give me ten minutes? I’ll be right with you.” She turns to her receptionist and hands her a stack of papers. “Two bound copies of these please Colleen, quick as you can.” She smiles at me again as the receptionist leaps to her feet and hurries into the back room. “Kitchen’s through there, help yourself to tea or coffee, or something from the snack box. I won’t be a minute.”
I’m parched, so I go and get a glass of water then flick through the stack of magazines in the waiting room. To my surprise, last month’s issue of Horse & Pony is in the middle of the stack, so I pull it out and start flicking through it. I know exactly which page to go to. Page 61, small text box in the bottom right hand corner. The results from Gisborne 3-star, and there’s my name and Finn’s, immortalised in print. Pony 1.10m Championship … Jay Evans, That’s Final (Ratanui) 2.
I stare at those magic words for a moment before flicking back to the start of the magazine and re-reading an article about finding good distances to jumps until Nina returns. I put the magazine down and watch as she shakes hands warmly with an elderly couple before seeing them out the door with reassurances that she’ll get to the bottom of their case. The door closes behind them, and she turns to me with a smile.
“Now, Jay. Have you had lunch?”
We settle into a small table at a nearby café, and make small talk while we wait for our food. Nina wants to know all about my time at Abby’s, and listens attentively as I fill her in. Unlike Dad, I know she’s not just nodding and smiling along, getting me to talk so that he doesn’t have to. Even though she doesn’t really understand any of the details. And when I tell her that I’ve made the HOY team, she’s so excited for me that it’s almost embarrassing.
“Good for you!” she exclaims. “I knew you could do it!”
I smile back as our food arrives. It’s nice to talk to someone who has so much faith in me, even though I know she doesn’t really know anything about horses. She’s so nice to me that I feel even worse, and after a few mouthfuls I set down my fork and make myself say the words she’s surely been waiting to hear.
“Dad told me that you two broke up.” Nina’s eyes flicker across my face then return to her salad, and I swallow around the awkwardness in my throat. “I’m sorry if I had anything to do with that.”
Nina quickly shakes her head. “It was nothing to do with you.”
I stab a piece of tomato with my fork. “I thought lawyers were supposed to be good at lying.”
“Jay.” She pauses until I look up, and force myself to meet her light brown eyes. “It was not your fault.”
I want to believe her, but I can’t. “But it was because of me. If I wasn’t there, you wouldn’t have broken up with him.”
I wait for her to contradict me again, but she doesn’t. At least now I know the truth.
“Well. I’m sorry, anyway.” I push the food around my plate, my appetite disappearing as quickly as my guilt surges. “I know I was horrible to you at Christmas, and…”
Nina cuts me off immediately, shaking her head. “No, no. That one’s on me. I shouldn’t have intruded on your day. I didn’t realise Dave hadn’t told you I was coming until after I arrived. But when you were so upset…I felt terrible.”
I shake my head. “You shouldn’t have. I was being awful. I’m working on that, but sometimes it just happens before I even realise. I really am sorry though.”
She opens her mouth to speak again, then closes it and meets my eyes. “Apology accepted. Thank you.”
I immediately feel better, and we eat in silence for a while before Nina speaks again.
“I should’ve
known better, really,” she says quietly. “Should’ve made sure you were okay with it. I was so focused on trying not to step on your mother’s toes, and then I turn up on Christmas Day…” She shakes her head in consternation at herself.
“I overreacted,” I remind her. “I just…it was my first Christmas without Mum, and I didn’t cope with it very well. But I’m trying to do better. It’s just hard sometimes.”
Nina gives me a sympathetic look. “Of course it is. I think you’re coping amazingly well. To lose your mother and move halfway across the world in such a short space of time…that must’ve been incredibly difficult for you. And you must miss her so much.”
I nod wordlessly, not trusting myself to speak and sipping at my juice instead.
“You know I was never trying to replace your mother. I’d never have tried to do that.”
I nod. “I know.” I run my thumb back and forth over the rim of my glass as I set it back on the table. “I just miss her. It sucks, and nobody really gets it. My friends are always complaining about their mums, and treating them badly or being rude to them, and it makes me so mad! I know they can’t help it and sometimes their mums are pretty annoying and difficult, but it’s like…they should just appreciate them more, you know?”
“I know.” Nina’s voice is very quiet now, little more than a whisper.
I keep talking, unable to stop the words from flowing out. “Sometimes it feels like I’m the only one who misses her. I mean, my grandparents lost their daughter, and her friends lost an acquaintance, but nobody else lost their mum when she died. Nobody really understands.” I glance up at Nina and am startled to see tears rolling down her cheeks. “Oh no, now I’ve got you going too. Sorry to be so tragic,” I apologise, but she shakes her head.
“No, it’s not you. I’m just…” She sighs. “I do know how you feel. I felt the exact same way when I lost my daughter.”
I stare at her, stunned into momentary silence. “I’m so sorry,” I manage to say.