The show was at a huge equestrian centre, with some of the classes held indoors and some out. While Stuart and Luke unloaded the ponies and got them tacked up, and Len went to register and pick up the numbers, Joe quickly showed Ellie around.
There was an outdoor ring and two indoor rings, as well as a working-in area. Everywhere Ellie looked there were beautiful horses and ponies, their coats velvet-soft and shining, their tack gleaming in the March sun. People wandered around, chatting and talking on their phones. Small girls on beautiful lead-rein ponies were having red hair ribbons tied and their boots polished. In the working-in area, trainers were putting the practice fences up and down, and carrying round wicker baskets full of grooming tools.
‘That’s the working hunter ring,’ said Joe, pointing out a ring where a pony was jumping round a course of jumps for one judge, and then a further smaller ring where there was another pony performing an individual show for another judge. Joe checked the rider’s number. ‘We should go and work Picasso and Barney in and then come back and walk the course. Your class will be before mine.’
They headed back to the horsebox and tacked the ponies up. Keeping their jeans and jackets on over their show clothes, Ellie and Joe worked them in with Len watching. Picasso was full of energy and jumpy, but gradually he calmed down.
When it came to walking the course, Joe was a great help, pointing out where Ellie would need to take care, where she should push on and how many strides she should aim for between the jumps. Lots of the other riders seemed to know him and called out greetings.
‘You just want to mind the upright at the end,’ he told Ellie. ‘Picasso can get a bit full of himself when he thinks the course is over, and it’s the type of fence that will come down easily.’ Ellie took it all in. She felt as if she was bubbling inside; she couldn’t wait to get started!
When she went back to the box, Luke was expertly putting the finishing touches to Picasso, adding a final layer of special black dye to his hooves and rubbing over his coat with a soft cloth. ‘He’s just about ready.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, glad that he had dropped his usual goading manner for the show.
Spirit was tied up next to Picasso, looking around curiously. Ellie gave him a hug.
‘You’d better get ready too,’ Luke told her. ‘If you’re late for the ring, Len will kill you.’
Ellie slipped into the grooms’ quarters of the box and pulled off her old jeans. She had her show jodhpurs underneath. She replaited her hair in a single neat plait, put on her red tie, her brown jodhpur boots, her tweed jacket and leather gloves. Putting on her velvet hat, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were glowing.
Opening the door, she jumped down from the horsebox. Luke grinned. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’
She nodded, for once almost lost for words with the excitement and nerves.
‘I love it too,’ he admitted. ‘It’s good having someone else here who enjoys it. I know Joe would sooner stay at home. I wish I was riding today.’ He undid Picasso’s headcollar. ‘Here. On you get.’
She mounted and went to check the girth, but Luke caught her arm. ‘No, wait. You’ll get grease on your gloves. Let me.’ He checked, running his finger between the girth and Picasso’s side. It wasn’t quite tight enough and he moved her leg forward, lifting up the saddle flap. As she looked down on his dark head while he hiked the girth up another hole, his shoulder holding her leg out of the way, she wished he could always be this nice.
‘Thanks,’ she said.
‘My pleasure.’ For just a moment there was the hint of his usual mocking expression, but then his face relaxed and he let her leg fall back into place. He swept the cloth over her boots where they had brushed against Picasso’s neck, removing the last specks of dust. ‘Just go out there and win.’
‘I’ll try.’ She clicked her tongue and Picasso moved off.
Spirit whinnied.
Ellie smiled. She knew it was silly, but she was sure he was wishing her good luck too.
As soon as Ellie rode into the ring, her nerves vanished. She cantered round, feeling Picasso’s eagerness. ‘Steady, steady,’ she breathed as they approached the first jump. He flew over, his ears pricked. Jump followed jump. She remembered Joe’s advice at the final fence and was ready when she felt him speed up. Now was not the time for one of his infamous bucks. Keeping him firmly in hand, she placed him perfectly at the fence. He cleared it by miles and she rode on strongly, keeping a good hold on his head. She ended the round with her heart singing. A clear round! Her uncle met her at the exit with a rare smile.
‘Good work, lass,’ he said, clapping Picasso’s neck.
There was a grey pony in the smaller ring, doing its individual show for the second judge. In the individual show they had to walk, trot, canter and gallop. Ellie waited for her turn and, as the grey left, she rode in. Picasso performed beautifully, floating across the ground, his neck arched, reaching perfectly for the bit before doing a really fast gallop. Joe had told Ellie that Picasso loved being in the ring, and she could feel it exuding from the pony’s every pore. He made it easy for her to ride as well as she possibly could, speeding up and slowing down whenever she asked.
She finished by bowing to the judge, and then Joe and her uncle helped her whisk Picasso’s saddle off so she could lead him back into the ring for the judge to check him over one last time. Picasso stood like a statue and didn’t put a foot wrong as she then walked and trotted him in-hand. At the end of the class, all the ponies were called back into the ring together by the steward. They lined up and Picasso was pronounced the winner.
Ellie could hardly contain her delight as the judge hooked a red rosette on to the string that held her number in place and congratulated her. Her first show and she had won – or at least Picasso had! She led the lap of honour while everyone clapped loudly.
Getting out of the ring, she leapt off and hugged Picasso. The next second Joe, Luke and Len were congratulating her.
‘He was awesome!’ she gasped.
‘So were you!’ said Joe.
Luke grinned. ‘I knew you’d enjoy it.’
‘It was a good ride,’ said Len, nodding approvingly. ‘A very good ride.’
Ellie took Picasso back to the horsebox, glowing with pride, but her showing day wasn’t over. Later on she had to take him in the working hunter pony championship for the ponies who had been placed first and second in their classes. They came second overall in that and were presented with another even larger rosette for being Reserve Champion, even beating Joe and Barney who had won their class too.
Afterwards, Ellie and Joe rode the ponies back to the car park. They took it in turns to get changed in the living quarters and then rubbed Barney and Picasso down before giving them some water, rugging them up and settling them with fresh haynets in the lorry.
‘What a day!’ said Ellie dazedly as they went back into the living area and tidied up.
Joe grinned at her as he stowed their hats in one of the lockers. ‘And to think just a few months ago you wouldn’t even ride the ponies.’
‘Yeah.’ Ellie shook her head. So much had happened in the last few months. Spirit. The ponies. Everything. She remembered how she had felt when she first arrived at High Peak Stables, how desolate she had been.
Overwhelmed by the memory, Ellie rubbed her arm across her eyes.
‘Are you OK?’ Joe said, coming over and putting a hand on her shoulder.
She nodded, swallowing hard.
‘Really?’
As she glanced into his greeny-grey eyes, Ellie felt her stomach curl. They stared at each other for a moment and then Joe gently brushed a loose strand of hair back from Ellie’s face. Almost without realizing what she was doing, she stepped forward. He lowered his head instinctively and she rose on tiptoe to meet him.
Just then, the handle on the jockey door turned with a rattle. They leapt apart as if someone had just thrown scalding water over them.
The
door opened. Luke was standing there. ‘Alfie’s about to go in the Intermediate Championship,’ he announced. ‘Are you two going to come and watch?’ He seemed to pick up on the tension. He looked from one to the other. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Going on? Nothing,’ Joe said, grabbing a whip off the floor and throwing it into a bucket with the other whips. ‘We … we were just putting stuff away.’
Ellie’s heart was pounding. ‘Yes. Just tidying up a bit.’ She turned so Luke couldn’t see her burning cheeks.
‘Well, come and see the championship then,’ said Luke, giving Ellie one last penetrating stare.
‘Sure.’ Joe went to the door. ‘Coming, Ellie?’
Ellie waited as Luke had turned and begun walking back towards the show.
‘Joe …’ she breathed, wondering what had just happened. Reaching out, she touched his hand. Their eyes met.
‘Come on,’ Joe said softly, after a moment. ‘We’d really better go, Ellie.’
She nodded, her heart still beating wildly against her ribs.
He jumped down from the horsebox. She scrambled down the steps after him, and studiously avoiding each other’s gaze, they followed Luke back across the car park.
Sunset …
Ellie walked beside Spirit along the lane as the sun slowly sank down in the sky. She rested her hand on his shoulders, feeling his muscles move beneath her palm. As always, when she was with him, and just him, she felt a sense of peace – of coming home.
Her thoughts mulled over the day. The show had been so much fun, but then there had been the moment in the horsebox with Joe …
It was only because I was upset, she told herself. It was hard thinking about everything that’s happened – Mum, Dad, almost losing Spirit.
Her fingers played in Spirit’s long mane. She must stop thinking about it. Joe was her friend, that was all. Pushing the memory deep down, she remembered the rest of the show. It had been fantastic to win the class and quite weird to get on with Luke for a change. Ellie shook her head. She’d never met anyone who she could like so much one minute and then hate the next. But he’d been like a different person while they had been at the show. Excitement bubbled through her as she suddenly remembered the moment when she had won the class. She couldn’t wait until the next time.
Sensitive to her moods as always, Spirit pushed against her.
She patted him. ‘Joe was right in the horsebox, Spirit,’ she told him. ‘So much has changed in just a few months. Not just the riding and the shows, of course, but having you and being able to talk to you, and now being able to keep you and also being able to communicate with Picasso too. Everything’s different.’
Spirit lifted his nose and explored her face with his muzzle. Ellie felt a rush of overpowering love and sighed. Without doubt, the thing that mattered most was keeping him. Everything else could change, but as long as she had Spirit she knew her life would be complete.
She remembered the bleak landscape she had arrived to, less than three months ago. The ground had been hard with frost, the wind bitter, the trees’ branches bare. But now the sun was shining, the fields were full of lambs, some bouncing, others feeding, tails waggling, while their mothers grazed. Bright yellow daffodils waved along the grass verge and the leaves on the trees were new and green.
The months ahead felt as if they were stretching out in front of her like the golden rays of the sun stretching across the fields. What would they hold? There would be more shows. Maybe she would be able to learn how to talk properly to other horses. That was such an amazing idea. Then there would be Spirit, of course. She would do more with him, ride him with a saddle and bridle, learn more from him, love him and be loved by him.
A picture of the first time she had seen him flashed into her mind, and she remembered the feeling she’d had that day, as if she’d always known him.
You’re mine, she had promised him. Forever.
She had meant it then. She knew it now. Their eyes met and she lost herself again in his gaze, feeling a wonderful sense of security. Whatever the future held, she would meet it with him.
The winter had passed; spring was here.
Special Thanks …
There are so many people to thank for Ellie and Spirit’s story. My agent, the wonderful Philippa Milnes-Smith, who encouraged me to write it from the very first moment we met, and her fabulous assistant, Holly Vitow. My editor, Lindsey Heaven, for her passion, skill and general loveliness even when we have been arguing – I know it’s only because you care! To everyone at Puffin who has put time into turning my story into proper books, especially Wendy Tse for her edits and patience and Katy Finch for the perfect covers.
On the horse front, I owe a massive thank you to Julie Templeton and Fiona Wallace of the Julie Templeton show team. They showed me around their amazing yard and patiently answered so many questions about showing, willingly giving up their busy time – any stretching of showing reality is down to me! The many non-fiction books by Mark Rashid, an incredible horseman, have also been invaluable, as have the books by horse healers Julie Dicker and Magrit Coates.
And then there are the thanks to everyone else in my life who has been involved with this story. To Peter, Iola, Amany and Spike for putting up with me writing all the time, particularly to Peter for the endless love, support and inspiration – you are my guiding light and I love you for it! To the writing friends who make my day-to-day writing life so much more fun than it would be otherwise: Lee Weatherly, Julie Sykes, Liz Kessler, Dave Gatward and Ann Bryant (particular thanks to Lee, Liz, Ann and Julie for reading various drafts, seeing what I wanted to write and helping me iron out problems). To all the rest of the Scattered Authors, the most wonderful and generous group of writers. To my non-writing friends who keep me sane: Suzanne, Emma, Sarah, Jo, Debs, Sandra, Caroline, Wendy and Elaine. And to DB, wherever you are, for the light and the shadows you brought – this story would not be here without you. Thank you. Most of all, though, I have an immense debt of gratitude to the horses and dogs who are no longer with me, especially Tan, Bramble and Poppy. All animals are special, but some touch your life and heart in a whole different way. Those three taught me so much and I miss them all every day. Finally a huge thank you to everyone who reads Ellie and Spirit’s story and enjoys it – listen and maybe you will hear an answer one day …
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