by Kate Lattey
“Bacon and egg sandwich,” I told him. “Please.”
He clapped me on the shoulder and strode off to stand in line while Mum and I carried on back to the truck.
“We have food in the truck, you know,” Mum muttered. “Fruit and yogurt and croissants, and those muesli bars you like.”
“I just felt like a sandwich,” I told her. “There’s protein in eggs, right?” Mum shrugged, unsure, but I was pretty sure I was right. “I think that’d be good for me right now. I need a protein kick.”
“Katy!”
We’d reached our truck, and I was surprised to see Susannah and Tess sitting on the ramp and waiting for us. They both jumped up as we approached, their faces anxious. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I’m fine. Just had a dizzy spell, that’s all. No big deal.”
Susannah half-smiled, but Tess still looked worried. I followed Mum into the truck and sat down on the sofa seat, leaning back into the cushions and waiting for my head to stop spinning. Mum took the electrolytes and mixed them into a glass of water, then forced it into my hand and stood over me until I drank it. It tasted vile, but I slogged it down dutifully, resisting the temptation to hold my nose. The gritty residue at the bottom of the glass made me gag, and I handed it back to her with a few dregs remaining. She refilled the glass and handed it back again, but I put it on the bench in protest.
“In a minute,” I told her, and Susannah distracted her by asking something about which rug she should’ve put on Tori, and did her legs need wrapping while she was stalled, and Mum decided that the horse was more important than me anyway so they went to check on her. I kept my eyes shut and basked in the silence that they’d left behind, forgetting that Tess was even there until she spoke.
“Hayley has a brain tumour.”
I opened my eyes and stared at her, my heart pounding. “What?”
Tess nodded slowly, her hazel eyes fixed on a point just past my shoulder. “She had surgery last week, but they couldn’t get it all. Now they’re giving her radiation therapy to see if that’ll shrink it into submission.” Tess’s voice was steady, but her hands were twisting themselves into knots as she spoke.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” I had no idea what else to say. I’d known that something was wrong with Hayley, but had never expected anything this serious. “Is she…will she be okay?”
“We don’t know,” Tess admitted. “They say that they’re hopeful, but they don’t really have a clue. It’s a waiting game.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders, then glanced at me. “You know Hayley. She’s not going down without a fight.”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s for sure.”
There were footsteps on the ramp, and we both looked up to see my father walk into the truck, holding a greasy paper bag out towards me.
“Your breakfast, little lady.”
Ugh. I wasn’t sure if it was the smell of the food or being addressed as ‘little lady’ that was more nauseating, but I just took the sandwich from his hand and mumbled my thanks. Tess stood up, and I wanted to tell her not to go, but I had nothing left to say.
“I hope you feel better soon,” she said in her quiet voice.
“Thanks.” I watched her walk to the door, her thick curling hair bouncing softly off her back. Would Hayley lose her hair? She was so proud of her glossy blonde curls. Did radiation make people go bald or was that just chemotherapy? I had no idea. “Tell Hayley…”
Tess turned around, but I was at a loss for what to say. “Um, tell her I’m sorry and that I hope she’s back riding again soon.” I cringed at the insufficiency of my words, but I couldn’t think of anything better.
“I will,” Tess replied. She hesitated, resting a hand against the doorframe and glancing at my father, who was obliviously making himself a cup of coffee. “You won’t tell anyone, right?” she asked quietly. “It’s just that we don’t really want rumours, you know…”
“Of course not,” I assured her. “My lips are sealed. Except – can I tell AJ? She’s really worried about you – and Hayley, of course – and I told her I’d let her know as soon as I found anything out. If you don’t want me to I won’t, but you can trust her. She won’t spread it around.”
Tess nodded slowly. “Yeah, you can tell her. But just you two, okay? Nobody else.” She looked at the ramp of the truck as Mum came back up with Susannah at her side, the two of them chatting like old friends. Tess shot me an anxious look and I nodded, understanding. There was still too much bad blood between Susannah and Hayley to trust her with a secret that big, and if I was completely honest, I wasn’t sure I trusted Susannah that much myself.
“My lips are sealed,” I promised, and Tess smiled briefly before exiting through the side door.
“Eat up,” Dad told me as he stirred his coffee, and I peeled the soggy brown paper back to reveal the greasy sandwich within. The edges of the fried egg were all crispy and shiny, and the bacon had a big rim of soft white fat along one side. The sight of it made me want to throw up, but Dad was still staring at me, so I took a small bite out of the bread crust, forcing myself to chew and swallow as my head still reeled with Tess’s news.
Our truck became noisy again as everyone talked over each other, discussing what the rest of the day would bring, grumbling about the weather, which looked like rain, and about the people in the truck next to ours who’d been up ‘til the small hours partying, which Mum was convinced was the reason I was “overtired”. I sat and ate slowly, picking around the fattiest parts of the bacon and avoiding the dry yellow egg yolk, but forcing myself to eat the rubbery whites and the grease-soaked bread, despite my stomach’s continual protestations. Eventually Susannah left to get her ponies ready for their classes, and Mum looked at me anxiously.
“How’re you doing?”
“I’m okay. Feeling much better. Molly’s first to go in the metre-ten,” I reminded her. “Can you put her studs in for me?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dad said immediately.
I waited for Mum to tell him that what he thought didn’t count, but she didn’t. She hesitated, looking at him anxiously, and I hated her in that moment. It had been just the two of us for years, and we’d never needed his opinion before. Just because he was here didn’t mean he got a say in any of this, and it was about time she stood up to him.
“I don’t really care what you think.” I said it for her, and for me. I was mad at him too, mad that he was trying to tell me what to do, mad that he’d been sitting there staring at me while I forced myself to eat that vile sandwich, mad that he’d bought me a horse I couldn’t ride and, if I was completely honest with myself, a horse I didn’t really like. I should’ve left her at the stud and gone home without buying anything. I shouldn’t have been blinded by her gleaming coat and scopey technique. I should’ve paid attention to the fact that she had felt disconnected from me from the start, that I’d never really bonded with her or understood her. I should’ve seen the wild look in her eye and known that it spelled trouble, but I’d been too arrogant, or too greedy, or something. And now I only had myself to blame for the predicament I was in - but it was much easier to blame my father.
I turned resolutely back to my mother. “Stud up Molly. Please,” I added for good measure, wanting to keep her on my side. “Her threads are worn and they’re hard to get in at the moment. I might not be up to riding, but if I am, we don’t want to be messing around with studs at the last minute.”
Mum nodded, turned and managed not to look at Dad as she left the truck and went to sort my pony. Dad sat on the sofa across from me and crossed his arms again, his brow creased into a frown. I had planned to rest a bit longer, but it wasn’t going to be very restful if he was there staring at me, so I stood up.
“You haven’t finished your sandwich.”
I’ve eaten all I’m going to. “I’ll have the rest later,” I lied.
Dad frowned. “It’ll be cold by then. Eat it now while it’s warm.”
Stop tel
ling me what to do! “I’m full.”
“You can’t be full. You’ve eaten half a sandwich, that’s not enough to fill anyone up.”
I wasn’t going to sit there and be told that I didn’t know how I felt. How much more patronising could he get?
“Shows how much you know. I’m going to check on the ponies,” I told him, and was relieved to note that the room didn’t sway or spin as I walked down the steps and out the door.
As it turned out, I didn’t end up competing again until late that afternoon, when Dad finally got out of my hair and I managed to get on Puppet for his metre-five. I’d tried to ride Molly but had experienced more vertigo as soon as I got in the saddle, so I’d reluctantly scratched. Susannah had offered to ride her for me, but I’d turned her down. I knew she would have given Molly a good ride, but I’ve never been much good at sharing, and deep down I still harboured some resentment over how well Molly had gone for her when she’d had her on trial. Molly was supposed to be my special pony who only performed well for me, so it had been a blow to my pride when she’d jumped so willingly for Susannah. I didn’t need a reminder or a repeat performance of that. My day was going badly enough as it was.
Scratching Squib, on the other hand, had been a relief. He was bursting at the seams, full of pent-up energy from being yarded all day. AJ was usually very diligent about taking him for walks or rides around the grounds so he didn’t feel cooped-up, but I hadn’t had the time – or the inclination. I’d always thought AJ was just being a fussy mother hen, but I was starting to see that it would’ve benefitted the spunky pony to be able to move around. The thought of riding him made my head spin, however, so he was stuck where he was for the time being.
I was saddling Puppet, all of my motions still a bit slower than usual, when Susannah turned up again.
“You must be feeling better,” she said with a smile as she leaned on the yard railing and rubbed the tiny white star between Puppet’s eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said for what felt like the thousandth time that day. I wasn’t, quite – I felt drained of all energy, which was stupid because I’d spent most of the day sitting in the truck doing stuff all. Mum had been forcing me to eat fruit and yoghurt all afternoon, which was now sitting in my stomach on top of the greasy sandwich and making me feel sick, but I was doing my best to ignore it. At least my vision was back to normal, and if I was a bit weaker and my reaction times a bit slower, well I was only riding Puppet. I wasn’t going to need my wits about me.
Squib shoved his broad chest up against the railings of his yard and snapped at Puppet’s head, trying to scare him. Puppet flinched and sidestepped, narrowly missing my toe.
“Watch it,” I snapped at him and gave him a hard slap on the shoulder. The pony jumped, then stood nervously still. I could feel Susannah’s eyes on me, and I wanted to tell her not to judge. She wasn’t exactly renowned for her kindness to animals, and it was one slap. He probably barely felt it. I rubbed his neck anyway, tried to settle him.
“Squib looks wired.”
I rolled my eyes. “Is he ever. He’s busting to get out and do something, but I so don’t have the energy to deal with him today.”
Susannah straightened up. “D’you want me to take him out?”
I picked up Puppet’s bridle and looked at her. “If you want to, that would actually be really helpful. You could take him for a pick of grass or something. He’d like that.” I wasn’t entirely sure that he wouldn’t try to bolt across the show grounds or kick her head in, but I didn’t want to scare her off. Squib needed to stretch his legs.
Susannah was looking dubious. “I meant more like, take him for a ride. He hasn’t been ridden today, has he? I could take him for a trot out, give him something to focus his energy on. If you think AJ wouldn’t mind, that is. Should I ask her? I can send her a text.”
Two birds, one stone. Squib got exercised and Susannah went somewhere else and stopped asking me if I was okay.
“She won’t mind,” I assured her as I pulled the bridle over Puppet’s ears and tugged his silky forelock over the browband. “Go for your life. Mum will show you where his tack is.”
“Just need his bridle,” Susannah grinned. “I’ve got a saddle in mind.”
“Right. Good call.”
AJ’s saddle was an old, beat-up Wintec, and it was so uncomfortable that I refused to ride in it, using Lucas’s Prestige instead. Susannah owned a gorgeous Antares that fit Squib like a glove, and since it didn’t actually fit any of her own ponies, she’d offered it to AJ on loan. AJ had still been in two minds over whether to accept – I wasn’t sure why, except some kind of stubborn pride – when she’d had her accident, and the point had become moot.
“Just watch him, okay?” I said, leading Puppet out of his yard and preparing to mount. “He’s not quite as sweet and innocent as he wants you to think, or as AJ will have you believe. Don’t trust him not to dump you and come running back here.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t do that,” Susannah said confidently, giving me a leg-up into Puppet’s saddle as Mum came over.
“Katy, are you sure-”
“I’m fine. Why doesn’t anyone believe me that I’m fine? Susannah wants to ride Squib, can you help her find his bridle?”
And I picked up my reins and rode Puppet past them both and out towards the ring.
Susannah was throwing a rug over Squib’s steaming back when I returned.
“How’d you get on?” she asked as she threaded the backstraps between his hind legs.
I kicked my feet out of the stirrups and shrugged. “Two rails, but he’s still green.” They’d been my fault, but I didn’t feel like admitting that to Susannah. I wanted to maintain some dignity. “How was the demon child?”
Susannah grinned. “He was awesome! He’s so bouncy and full of himself, but he’s really sweet.” She looked at me sideways. “Do you really not like him?”
“Of course I do,” I lied. “He’s great.”
Grinding my teeth, I dismounted and took Puppet back into his yard to untack. So now Susannah could ride Squib better than me too. As well as Molly, and Forbes. Maybe I should hand all of my ponies over to her and be done with it. I thought of Tori, and wondered how Susannah would cope with her. Probably better than me. I was almost tempted to offer, and find out, but if Tori killed her then her father would kill me. Not worth it.
“I was just thinking,” Susannah continued, hesitation in her voice. “That if you’re not feeling up to it, tomorrow, I mean you probably will be fine but if you’re not keen, I could ride Squib for you. I mean, compete him. Obviously I’d ask AJ first but like you said, she probably wouldn’t mind, so…”
Her voice trailed off as I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine by tomorrow,” I insisted. “I’m going to bed early, and I’ll be right as rain in the morning.”
Susannah looked disappointed, but did her best to hide it. “Okay.” She took a couple of steps away, her arms still full of Squib’s tack, then turned back. “Oh, Dad said to invite you guys over for dinner tonight. He’s getting some Chinese food delivered and says there’ll be heaps to go around.” She smiled. “He always orders masses too much, because he wants to try everything, so he gets like, six dishes for the two of us and then wonders why we have so many leftovers.”
“Thanks. That’s really nice of you,” I said, unable to see a polite way out of the invitation. “I’ll ask Mum if she’s keen, and let you know.”
Mum was delighted not to have to cook, but dinner itself was a bit of an ordeal, not least because everyone was watching me closely to make sure that I had enough to eat. I filled a bowl with fried rice, ate until I was full, then kept eating until I felt sick, determined not to give them anything to complain about. Mum seemed pleased, and it wasn’t until we were back in the truck and I was crawling into bed that something occurred to me.
“Where’s Susannah’s mum these days, anyway?” I asked. “I haven’t seen her in ages.”
“I didn’t even know she had a job.”
“What’d you think she did?” Mum asked, sounding slightly amused. “Swan around the house all day doing nothing?”
“I don’t know. Yes, probably. Isn’t that what rich people do?”
“Some of them, I guess,” Mum replied. “But most people have to actually work in order to get rich. Money doesn’t grow on trees, you know.”
“I wish it did,” I grumbled, rolling over and burying my face in the pillow. “It’d make life a whole lot simpler.”
CHAPTER NINE
“Wakey wakey, rise and shine!”
I groaned and screwed my eyes shut, hoping I was still dreaming, but it was too late. I became slowly aware of my surroundings, even with my eyes closed. The soft mattress under me, the bulk of the blankets mounded on top, the self-contained cocoon of warmth that wrapped itself around me and held me still, and quiet. But Mum was talking, and there were people outside shouting, and engines revving, and horses whinnying. Sunlight was pouring in through the truck windows, and then someone jumped onto the bottom step and knocked on our door, making the whole truck shake. I buried my head under the blankets as Mum called out.
“Come in!” I heard the door open, and then an unexpectedly male voice spoke. I couldn’t make out the words, but as I flung the blankets back and rolled over to see who it was, Mum responded.
“Thanks Jonty, that’s a lovely offer. I’ll check with Katy.” They were both looking at me now, Mum standing by the sink with a banana in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, Jonty half-in, half-out of the doorway, one foot resting on the top step.