Just Jack

by Adele Broadbent

  ‘Father said I was right there when it happened. But I don’t remember.’ Her face crinkled. ‘I was only three. Mother bent to pick me up and a horse kicked out …’

  I squeezed her hand, wanting to look away from the lost look in her eyes.

  ‘Hey!’ Kenny called out. ‘What are you doing down there?’

  I leapt up. ‘I’d better go. Baldy will wonder where I’ve been.’ I bent down and whispered, ‘Will you be all right?’

  ‘Yes. Go, before you get into trouble.’

  I ignored Kenny’s startled face as I ran past him to the stables. Kenny, true to form, told Baldy I’d been lazing about.

  ‘What are you playing at? I know it’s hot, Jack, but there’s work to be done.’

  ‘Sorry, Baldy,’ I said, glaring at Kenny. With Kenny nearby, I wasn’t about to tell Baldy why I took so long.

  Chapter 14

  The next day I turned down Kenny’s invitation for a billiard game.

  ‘Why not?’ His eyes narrowed.

  ‘Don’t feel like it, that’s all.’ I concentrated on the saddle I was polishing. ‘Please yourself.’

  The truth was I wanted to talk to Isobel — alone. No wonder she’d been strange about showing her drawings to everyone. She wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near the horses, let alone close enough to draw one. And to tell the truth, I wanted to see if she was OK.

  I found her sitting with a book, in the shade of the front veranda. ‘No drawing today?’ I asked over the railing.

  She shook her head and put down her book. ‘I’m sorry about yesterday,’ she said shyly. ‘You were kind.’

  I tried to fight the heat flowing into my cheeks, and looked away with a shrug.

  She slid off her swing seat and came to sit on the wide front steps. ‘Let’s forget it, shall we?’

  On the porch, an oasis from the hot sun, we sat and talked for a while. At first, about the book she was reading, then her drawing, then about me becoming a jockey. I didn’t get far before Kenny cycled back up the drive. When he saw us sitting, talking, with ginger beer Mrs O’Brien had brought us, he looked surprised.

  ‘Uh-oh,’ I muttered. ‘Here’s trouble.’

  ‘Don’t be like that, Jack,’ Isobel said. ‘Kenny is so funny.’ She blushed when she looked his way.

  I stood, passing her my empty glass. ‘It’s time I got back. Thanks for the drink.’

  Walking down the drive after Kenny, I grumbled to myself. Why did he have to turn up and spoil things?

  A few days later, Isobel was back drawing the horses. After dinner, I talked her into showing me her drawings.

  ‘You’ve got Satin’s face just right,’ I said. ‘Why do you draw the horses if they scare you so much?’

  ‘They are so beautiful. I try to be brave.’ She gazed into space for a second before changing the subject. ‘Why did you want to become a jockey?’

  I ended up telling her the whole story about Grandfather and Robert. After all, she’d told me about her mother. It sounded stupid as I talked about them, but somehow Isobel understood.

  ‘That’s what it’s like with Father,’ she said. ‘I want to show him I’m not a little girl any more.’

  I even told her about the goings-on with Mr Mac and Mrs Davis and the strange way her son had left. ‘That’s awful!’ she cried. ‘I wonder where he is now.’

  But when I got to the bits about Kenny, she frowned. ‘That must have been an awful place to work,’ she said, ‘but I can’t believe Kenny was like that.’ She shook her head. ‘And that’s not what he said to Father at all.’

  I’d told Kenny’s secret! I shrugged. Oh well. The deal was not to tell Laddie. It was nothing to do with Isobel. ‘Everything I’ve said is the truth, I swear,’ I said solemnly.

  ‘But he’s not like that now.’ She smiled. ‘Let’s not talk about it any more. I’m pleased you left Mr MacKenzie’s.’

  ‘So am I, Isobel,’ I said, moving my hand closer to hers.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ Kenny stood in front of us, straddling his bike.

  ‘Oh hello, Kenny,’ said Isobel shyly. ‘We didn’t see you there.’

  ‘Yeah, I bet.’ He glared at me. ‘You going to sit and talk to girls all day or come and do some work?’

  I turned my back to Kenny as I stepped down from the veranda. ‘See what I mean, Isobel,’ I whispered. She peered around me at Kenny. For the first time I saw doubt in her eyes.

  Later, when Kenny and I were putting a new load of straw away in the shed, he dumped a bale near my feet. ‘So, what’s with you and Isobel?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You seem very chummy.’ I ignored him and went out to get more straw.

  From then on, I received black looks from Kenny every time he saw me with Isobel. I figured he was jealous. But he’d said he wasn’t keen on her. Whatever the reason, I ignored him. Until the true Kenny showed himself again.

  Baldy had us busy around the yards for a few days, so I saw Isobel only at mealtimes. Kenny’s mood improved, which was proof—he was jealous!

  Billy asked why I’d missed a few games, and when I told him about Isobel he nudged me in the ribs. ‘The boss’s daughter!’ he whispered with a grin. ‘What’s she like?’ In snatched conversations between turns, I told him all about her. ‘She lost her mother, too,’ I said. ‘She was really little and doesn’t remember her.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ he said. ‘At least I can remember my mother’s face.’ Then Kenny mooched over and we changed the subject.

  My track times were improving, Laddie was pleased with our progress, the horses were in excellent condition, and things were running smoothly. Or so I thought.

  ‘You’re quiet this morning, Kenny,’ said Baldy as I passed by Jet’s stall. I didn’t hear Kenny’s answer, and carried on with the water buckets for my horses. Baldy was right. Kenny usually had a joke to start his day, but he was keeping to himself. I knew him too well. Something was up.

  ‘Jack!’ Baldy called out. ‘Saddle up Silk for me. I want to check Nugget’s foot again, before we head for the track.’

  It didn’t take me long. Kenny and I turned down the lamps and waited outside the stables with the horses. Birdsong filled the clear, pre-dawn summer sky. Another scorcher was on its way.

  Baldy stuck his head out of the stall. Seeing Kenny already mounted, he called, ‘Jack, come and give us a hand! She’s being stroppy.’

  In her stall I soothed Nugget, stroking her neck while Baldy got a good look at her foot. He gave her a pat, and me a wink. ‘Thanks, Jack. You’re a grand help.’

  I scooted back out to Kenny and the horses, eager to get to the track.

  ‘All done?’ asked Kenny.

  I nodded, swinging myself into Satin’s saddle.

  Kenny leaned forward and fiddled with Coal’s bridle. ‘Come on, Baldy,’ he mumbled, staring at Silk. When he caught me looking, he quickly turned away. What was he up to?

  Baldy emerged without Nugget. ‘Laddie won’t be happy,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I reckon Nugget’s up for a spell.’

  Poor Nugget. The bruised foot must be worse than we thought. Thinking of the big mare’s injury, I’d taken my eyes off Kenny. Again, I caught him staring at Silk, leaning forward in his saddle, waiting for Baldy.

  No! He can’t have? Not again! I spun around to see Baldy with a handful of mane, ready to swing up onto Silk.

  ‘Baldy! Stop!’ I yelled. ‘Eh? What?’

  Sliding off Satin, I bolted over, reaching for his saddle. ‘I just need to check something.’ Sure enough, the girth strap was one notch too loose. I tightened it up quickly. ‘Sorry, Baldy.’

  Looking puzzled, Baldy mounted. I screwed my hands into fists and spun around to face Kenny. He was already halfway down the drive, vanishing into the darkness.

  Finally, when our track work was done and we were hosing down the sweaty horses, I cornered Kenny. He’d managed to avoid me all morning.

  ‘I know you fiddled with Baldy’s sadd
le. I thought we had a deal!’

  ‘Whatever do you mean, Jack?’ he said innocently, pointing the hose away. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  When I turned away, cursing under my breath, a blast of icy water exploded against my back, instantly soaking me down to my boots. I spun around, ready to spring at Kenny, when Baldy arrived.

  ‘You looked like you needed cooling off, Jack,’ said Baldy. He turned off the hose. ‘And waking up, too, after that saddle business.’

  I stomped back to the stalls, peeling my wet shirt from my back. Baldy and Kenny were still chuckling on the ride home. I seethed for the rest of the day, avoiding everyone. Even Isobel.

  I watched Kenny like a hawk after that, double-checking everything, not wanting him to catch me out again, or have Baldy thinking I was making mistakes.

  One morning after the track work, Baldy gave us our instructions. ‘Jack, the tack and feed rooms need tidying up. Kenny, you come with me — we need more grass.’

  My shirt stuck to my back in the hot, stuffy equipment rooms, but I was relieved not to have to watch out for Kenny for a while. Determined to please Baldy, I scrubbed, swept, polished and tidied until the rooms were spotless. After one last check, I ambled out to the yards.

  While I chatted to the horses, my stomach rumbled. I wondered how far away dinnertime was, as I dawdled back down the drive. I found Isobel gossiping to Mrs O’Brien at the washing line.

  ‘Hey, young Jack,’ Mrs O’Brien called out. I scooted over making the most of my chance to talk with Isobel while Kenny wasn’t around to spoil it.

  Baldy soon appeared up the drive with his bulging sack of grass. He wiped his face with a handkerchief. ‘Nice for some, chatting away the day. Crikey, it’s hot out there.’

  ‘A cool ginger beer is what you need,’ said Mrs O’Brien. ‘Come in and rest your feet.’ Baldy nodded and plopped the sack down in the shade of the stables, and we all went in for dinner.

  Kenny scrambled in late to the dinner table and got a scolding from Mrs O’Brien.

  I couldn’t help smiling. But I didn’t like the sinking feeling I got when Kenny smiled back.

  Isobel followed me outside after dinner, inviting me for a glass of ginger beer. Kenny lingered not far away. I thought he was keeping a jealous eye on us, until I heard Baldy yell.

  ‘Jack! What the devil are you playing at?’ We all stared wide-eyed at the stables. He stormed out of the tack room, fists clenched. ‘Get in here, now!’ A chill sliced down my back. He sounded just like Mr Mac.

  I ran over, my stomach swirling. ‘Yes, Baldy?’

  Without a word, he pointed into the tack room. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Bridles were strewn along the benches, brushes tossed in a pile at one end. The neatly folded towels lay in a heap on the floor.

  ‘But—’ I stared at the mess.

  ‘Well?’ said Baldy. ‘It looks worse than before!’

  ‘I cleaned it up. It was tidy. Believe me!’ I pleaded.

  Baldy looked undecided for a moment, dropping his hands to his sides. He lowered his voice. ‘I believe what I see, Jack. You might have started, then wandered off to chat with the ladies …?’

  My disbelief hardened into anger. ‘Kenny did this! He was late back. He must’ve done it when we went inside!’

  Baldy’s mouth tightened. ‘Just because Kenny teases you a bit and squirted you with the hose the other day, you start spurting yarns! We’ve been out in the heat and you haven’t done a thing.’ He made a sweeping motion with his hand. ‘Clean up this mess. Make it good and I won’t tell Laddie about it.’

  Laddie was away for the next couple of days, so Baldy couldn’t tell him anyway. Still, I was extra wary of everyone. I even screwed a slide-bolt to the top of my bedroom door.

  Isobel still doubted me, and Baldy wouldn’t listen. If I tried telling Laddie the truth about Kenny, he’d ask the others, then he wouldn’t believe me either. Even the daily track work didn’t cheer me up. Then came the final straw.

  Chapter 15

  Baldy was still cross with me, so I’d been left alone again to clean up around the stables. I slashed at the tall thistles along the driveway fence-line. Sweat trickled down my back and into my eyes, making me blink against its sting. At least Kenny can’t replant the weeds, I thought.

  Suddenly Isobel appeared on the drive, puffing. ‘Jack!

  Jack!’

  I straightened up, then arched my back, trying to stretch out the crick in it. ‘What, Isobel?’ I grumbled.

  She stopped in her tracks, a hurt look on her face. ‘Fine. I won’t tell you then,’ she said flouncing off.

  ‘Isobel, wait!’ I dropped my spade and ran after her. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, touching her shoulder. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Don’t let me interrupt you or anything.’

  ‘Please tell me.’

  The hurt look disappeared. ‘The horses … in the yards,’ she began.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Well, I’m not sure, so I thought I’d come and ask someone.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Are the gates meant to be open?’

  What? I knew I’d slid the bolts closed on every gate that morning. If they were open, that meant … With a gasp, I sprinted down to the yards, my boots banging like firecrackers on the sun-baked driveway.

  Satin was nudging at her gate, gently pushing it open with her nose. Not wanting to startle her, I approached slowly, my arms spread out. She saw me and trotted to the other end of her yard. I leapt at the gate and slid the bolt closed. Phew!

  Two other gates were ajar. Luckily, Coal and Nugget hadn’t seen their opportunity. I shuddered, despite the heat, and shut them again. If they’d got out, and been startled, who knows what could have happened.

  No more. I wasn’t putting up with Kenny’s dirty tricks for one more day. I knew I’d have to catch him in the act to get the others to believe me. But first, I was going to get even.

  Not long before tea, Baldy told us he had a meeting with Laddie. ‘Give the horses their final feed.’ He strode off towards the house.

  After simmering all day, I was ready to explode. It was now or never, I decided, scooping out chaff in the feed room. When I heard Kenny’s footsteps, I darted over to stand just inside the door. My heart pounding, I clenched my fists as he stepped through the doorway. ‘Kenny.’

  He wheeled around.

  I slammed my fist into his middle, knocking the air out of him. Staggering backwards, he sank down onto a sack of feed.

  ‘What … was … that … for?’ he wheezed.

  ‘You know what,’ I growled. ‘It’s for every trick you’ve pulled lately. I owe you.’ I stood over him, gritting my teeth. ‘You went too far opening gates, Kenny. What if one of the horses got hurt?’

  He shrugged before clambering to his feet. I stiffened, on guard for an attack.

  ‘That’s dirty fighting, springing it on me like that,’ he snarled.

  ‘Since when were you a clean fighter, Kenny? What about our deal? I haven’t told Laddie.’

  ‘Tell him, then. He won’t believe you anyway.’

  ‘I’ll make him believe me.’

  Kenny hesitated for a moment, considering my threat. ‘Oh, yeah? How?’

  ‘I know more than you think,’ I said, remembering my chat with Mrs Davis one rainy afternoon. ‘I know how you came to work for Mr Mac. I know about that man’s accident and that they blamed you. How about I tell Laddie about that?’

  Kenny’s mouth dropped open. He went as pale as Isobel, and sank back on the sacks. ‘It wasn’t my fault,’ he whispered. ‘Honest.’

  ‘Kenny! Jack!’ called Baldy from outside. He appeared in the doorway. ‘Here you are. Finish up quick smart. Laddie wants to see you both in his office.’

  Kenny looked even worse. Did Laddie know something? Baldy stared from me to Kenny. ‘Well?’

  ‘Yes, Baldy,’ I said, scooting over to close the feed bins.

  We walked in silence to the hou
se, Kenny biting his bottom lip. I felt the same, trying hard not to show it. When I saw him quickly wipe his eyes, I looked away. Was he crying?

  As we reached the back door, he rubbed his eyes again before stepping in front of me. ‘If I leave you alone, will you shut up about Mac’s?’ He glanced away. ‘And about the other thing?’

  ‘You said that last time.’

  ‘This time I mean it.’

  I stared at him, unsure as always.

  ‘I swear, Jack,’ he pleaded. ‘I just didn’t like you being so chummy with Isobel.’

  ‘What’s it to you?’ I said, poking him in the chest. ‘You don’t even like her, but you don’t want me talking to her.’

  ‘OK, OK,’ Kenny held up his hands. ‘Will you keep quiet?’

  I spat on my hand and held it out. ‘Shake on it, on your honour.’ Not that I thought he had any, but I’d seen Uncle Onslow do that once. It had to be worth something.

  Kenny spat and gripped my hand. He quickly let go again, and pushed through the door.

  Hesitating for a moment, I took a deep breath then followed him, dreading what Laddie had to say.

  Mrs O’Brien led us to Laddie’s office, knocked lightly, and opened the door. She gave us a wink before hurrying away again.

  ‘Hello, Kenny, Jack,’ Laddie said, without looking up from his papers.

  I’d never been in his office before. To his left, a magnificent bronze horse stood on top of a cabinet. The late-afternoon sun streamed in onto the crystal decanters standing next to it, sprinkling diamond shapes onto the horse’s flanks. On the right was a tall bookshelf, jammed with leather-bound books.

  I peeked at Kenny, who was staring at his boots. He still looked pale and, although I enjoyed the feeling of having something over him, I was still surprised at his reaction to mention of the building accident.

  ‘Sit down, boys.’ Laddie waved us to huge leather armchairs in front of his desk, which almost swallowed us. Like Grandfather always said, you could have heard a spider sneeze while we waited. Laddie finally put down his pen and looked up with a smile.