A Pony for Jean

by Joanna Cannan

  ‘GRADUALLY I MADE IT HIGHER’

  It poured and poured. The cousins arrived in their car and I saw with joy that they hadn’t brought any mackintoshes, so I knew that, however tough they were, they wouldn’t be able to go out in the orchard and stand in the obliging rain. They all three looked very big and bouncey, and the first thing they said was, ‘How’s The Toastrack?’

  I said, ‘Lovely, thank you.’

  They laughed and Guy said, ‘Mother told us about your burglar. She’d got hold of a story about your jumping a stile on the way to the farm. She must have dreamed it because old Higgins’s gates are always open. I can’t quite see The Toastrack jumping a stile.’

  They all laughed loudly at the idea of The Toastrack jumping a stile.

  I felt furious. I had to swallow before I could speak, and by the time that I had swallowed they were talking about something else.

  ‘We’re going to the meet on Friday,’ said Martin.

  Guy said, ‘When you get a better pony you’ll have to hunt too.’ I think he was trying to be nice but he didn’t succeed.

  Camilla said scornfully, ‘You might come on foot. People do.’

  The gong rang then. It didn’t usually, because we made the tea ourselves, but Mrs Beazley had come to help that afternoon. We went into the dining-room and Mummy and Cousin Agnes talked and we ate, and in my imagination I saved the life of a kind old gentleman, and he gave me some riding clothes and a hunting crop with a lash on it, and I went to the meet and was in at the death and the cousins weren’t, and the Master said, ‘By Gad! that girl can ride.’

  After tea the cousins wanted to see The Toastrack, as they would call him though I had told them three times that his name was now Cavalier. I had to get the stable lantern and we went out and ran across the garden in the rain. The cousins shrieked gaily. I followed in gloomy silence.

  Camilla opened the door of the loose box and, without waiting for me, barged in.

  Cavalier was eating from the manger. He was much fatter, but of course, compared to the cousins’ ponies, he was still very thin. I hung up the lantern on a high hook. Somehow I didn’t want the shrieking cousins to see his bones.

  Guy said, ‘Well, he certainly has come on.’

  Martin said, ‘Do you think so? I think he’s still awfully thin.’

  ‘So do I,’ said Camilla, ‘I think it would have been much kinder to have had him destroyed.’ She looked inquisitively round my stable and up at the roof and said, ‘Ugh! What an awful cobweb. I hope it doesn’t fall on me.’

  Before I remembered about being polite to guests, however rude they are, I said, ‘I hope it does.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Camilla.

  ‘You might swallow it and die,’ I said, ‘and then you wouldn’t be so keen on having other people destroyed.’

  ‘The Toastrack’s not a person,’ said Camilla. ‘And he’d have picked up by now if he was going to. I shall tell Daddy that he ought to be destroyed.’

  ‘You won’t,’ I said warningly.

  ‘I will, I will,’ said Camilla.

  She bounced about and suddenly I forgot everything and I hit out at her. She jumped back and she tripped over Martin’s foot and sat down plop in Cavalier’s water bucket.

  ‘Ow!’ shrieked Camilla.

  Guy said, ‘It serves you right, you silly little ass,’ and he took hold of her and pulled her out of the bucket.

  She was dripping.

  ‘It’s my new skirt,’ she whined. ‘I shall catch it.’

  ‘Wring it out,’ Martin suggested.

  ‘I can’t. It’s pleats. You’d better flap it.’

  Guy and Martin flapped it and then I suggested drying it with the stable lantern. The glass was quite hot and the skirt steamed, but it didn’t seem to dry much. ‘It’s no use. They’ll have to find out,’ said Camilla.

  ‘I’ll say it was my fault,’ I suggested.

  ‘It wasn’t,’ said Guy. ‘It was Camilla’s. But there’s no use in going into all that. They never understand whose fault it is. We’d better just say that she tripped and fell into the bucket.’

  ‘All right,’ said everybody.

  I took the lantern and we went back to the house. Mummy and Cousin Agnes were sitting by the fire talking about servants.

  ‘So what could I do,’ said Cousin Agnes, ‘but give her notice?’

  ‘My dear, what could you have done?’ said Mummy. Then she saw us and said, ‘Hullo! You all look very gloomy.’

  Guy pushed Camilla forward.

  ‘I’ve fallen into the stable bucket,’ said Camilla, in a little meek voice that I hardly recognised.

  ‘Oh, Camilla,’ said Cousin Agnes, ‘you’re always falling into something. And in your new skirt too,’ she said, as Camilla turned round and showed her wet behind.

  Camilla looked as though she were going to cry, so I said, ‘It was my fault,’ though Guy had told me not to.

  Camilla said, ‘No it wasn’t. It was mine.’ I thought that was quite decent of her.

  Mummy said, ‘Oh well, it’s a minor tragedy. I expect we can lend Camilla a skirt to go home in,’ so Camilla was bustled upstairs and presently she came down in my best skirt, which, though she was a year younger than me, was much too short for her.

  ‘Oh, you do look a sight!’ said Martin.

  ‘I can’t help it if Jean’s so small for her age,’ said Camilla.

  I had begun to think that she was quite decent, but now I changed my mind again. If you are small for your age, you know how bitter it is to be taunted with it.

  ‘I’m glad I’m small for my age,’ I said. ‘I shall be able to ride in steeplechases.’

  ‘On The Toastrack, I suppose,’ said Camilla.

  ‘Girls can’t ride in steeplechases,’ said Martin.

  ‘They can ride in point-to-points,’ said Cousin Agnes; ‘and that reminds me, Claire. Would Jean like to join the Pony Club?’

  ‘I’m sure she’d love to,’ said Mummy.

  I noticed that the cousins looked gloomy, but none of them said anything.

  ‘I’ll ask Miss Gosport to send you an entrance form,’ said Cousin Agnes. ‘It’ll be great fun seeing you at the rallies.’ She looked at the cousins and said, ‘Won’t it?’ in the voice of a commanding officer.

  The cousins said, ‘Yes,’ meekly, but I knew that it wasn’t ‘Yes,’ that they were thinking.

  Soon after that they left. They said it had been lovely, but that was only politeness. When Cousin Agnes said goodbye, she pushed something crackly into my hand, and afterwards I found that it was a ten shilling note. We decided that she meant it for joining the Pony Club.

  The entrance form came two days later. I found that it cost half-a-crown to join and that half-a-crown a year was the subscription, so I bought a postal order for five shillings and had four and tenpence halfpenny left, which I spent on Christmas presents. I bought Mummy a rose tree for the garden. It was called Madam Butterfly and it cost two shillings. I bought Daddy some peppermint creams, which he likes; they were a shilling; and I bought Mrs Higgins some caramels, which were sixpence. Then I had one and fourpence halfpenny left for the animals. I bought Sally a scarlet collar, which was sixpence, and Shadow a threepenny bar of chocolate; it was quite fair to spend less on him because he already had a scarlet collar, which had been bought in the days before our family fortunes failed, and had cost six and sixpence because it was real morocco.

  Then I had fivepence halfpenny left. Carrots were twopence halfpenny a pound, so I bought Cavalier two pounds. I couldn’t find anything for the halfpenny so I gave it to a child in the village.

  I must say it was more fun buying presents like that than it had been when I had heaps of money.

  The day before Christmas Eve was very dull because Mummy had bought a lot of Christmas cards for me to send to Aunts and Uncles whom I had never seen, or hated, and to people like Mademoiselle, whom I would never see again, thank goodness. I got quite tired of writing ‘With love fro
m Jean’ and addressing envelopes to places like Bath and Cheltenham, but at last it was done and I rode Cavalier down to the post office and was glad to see the beastly things disappear into the ever open mouth of the pillar box. The next day I went up to my bedroom and locked the door and got out my presents, and wrapped them in tissue paper out of Mummy’s hatbox, and tied them up with bits of different coloured wool that was over from my sweaters and stockings. The wool for Mummy’s present was blue, and Daddy had brown, which was dull but mannish. The dogs had scarlet and Cavalier a beautiful bright yellow. Though I had hated writing on the Christmas cards, I didn’t mind writing on my presents, and I wrote quite long things like ‘Wishing you good hunting,’ on Shadow’s, and ‘May you canter on for ever,’ on Cavalier’s.

  I woke up very early on Christmas morning. When we lived in London I had always had a stocking, which was supposed to be filled by Father Christmas, and my presents from people had been put on the breakfast table but not opened till I had finished my breakfast. This year, for a reason that you will guess if you are old enough, I had not hung out my stocking, but when I woke up I did feel round a bit, and there it was, all lovely and heavy and full of exciting lumps as usual. I lit my candle and began unpacking my stocking.

  The things in it were much more exciting than usual. There was an apple first, and then a handkerchief like Fred’s – red with white spots on it. Then there was a brown horse just like Cavalier and a stile for him to jump, and then there was a mouth organ. I had always wanted a mouth organ but Nurse had never let me have one because of the noise going through her head. I blew a few blasts on the mouth organ and made the brown horse jump the stile and go galloping away over my eiderdown, and then I went on unpacking my stocking.

  I found an orange, and a tangerine which I ate, and a little paper bag full of acid drops, and then, right down in the toe was the best thing of all – the proper tool for picking out horses’ hoofs. I was awfully pleased because up to now I had had to use a screwdriver.

  I played with my brown horse a bit. First of all he was young and roamed the boundless prairie. Then he was caught and shipped to England in one of my bedroom slippers. The eiderdown, which had been the boundless prairie, became the sea, and it was very rough and the poor colt was sick over the side of my bedroom slipper. At last he reached England, and he was auctioned, but he was looking so miserable from being seasick that no one would offer more than ten pounds for him. The man who bought him was very cruel and made him pull heavy carts and beat and starved him, so an old gentleman bought him out of kindness and gave him to a girl, who fed him up and rode him in the Newmarket Town Plate and won it. As she was riding him back into the paddock, someone offered her a thousand pounds for him but she said, ‘No, thank you. I will never part with him.’

  When I had finished this game, Bluey said half-past-six, but as I have told you before, I can’t rely on him. It might have been seven. So I got up and dressed and went out to the stable with Cavalier’s present. It was very dark still, and I had to take the lantern.

  I gave Cavalier his present and read out the writing on it. He was very interested when he heard the paper rustling, and he was awfully pleased when he saw the carrots. I gave him one pound of them and put the other pound into my pockets. Then I picked out his hoofs with my new and proper hoof-picker. He seemed very surprised at having it done so early in the morning.

  ‘I PICKED OUT HIS HOOFS WITH MY NEW AND PROPER HOOF-PICKER’

  I hung the hoof-picker tidily up on the hook where I hang the lantern, and then I went back to the house and let Sally out of her cupboard. We unwrapped her collar, but she was so excited that I couldn’t put it on for ages – she wriggled so, and squirmed, and danced round me. At last she rolled over and I got it on, and I must say she looked lovely in it.

  I couldn’t give Shadow his present yet because, since the burglar came, he had slept with Mummy, so I went into the kitchen and lit the primus and put on the kettle. It was just boiling when Mummy appeared in a fur coat and pyjamas.

  We wished each other a merry Christmas and then we made the tea and took it up to Daddy.

  He sat up in bed and said that he was sorry he hadn’t got us any presents. We said it was all right, we hadn’t expected any. Then he groped beside the bed and produced two huge parcels.

  Mummy’s was a chicken coop and mine a pair of jodhpurs.

  I was awfully pleased. Your legs get rubbed if you ride for long in shorts and, besides that, you look silly. I cast off my shorts at once and put on my jodhpurs, and Mummy cut off the ticket, which said five-and-elevenpence.

  I rushed into my bedroom and got my presents. Daddy ate one of his peppermint creams and gave one to Mummy. I wouldn’t take one because they looked so awfully few now that two had been eaten.

  Mummy was awfully pleased with her rose bush. She said I couldn’t have thought of anything nicer. She gave me a lovely knife. It has a tool in it for taking stones out of horses’ hoofs. I put it at once into the pocket of my jodhpurs.

  While Daddy and Mummy got up, I laid breakfast. There was nothing to cook because it was ham, so when Mummy came down, all she had to do was to make the coffee. When I went into the dining-room there was a huge pile of parcels on the table.

  Cousin Agnes had sent me a riding stick. It had a crook for opening gates and a silver band with my initials on it. My London Aunt – the one who had given me the Wendy House – had sent me a party frock. It was pink and Londonish. My Cheltenham Aunt had sent me a box of chocolates. They were nearly all hard, but Mrs Beazley and the dogs liked them. My Bath Aunt and my godmother had each sent me ten shillings. Colonel Bingley, whom I couldn’t remember, had sent me his usual box of lovely marsh-mallows. My other godmother had sent me some embroidery to do, and the skeins of silk came in very handy for plaiting Cavalier’s mane with. Then, to my horror, there were three small parcels from the cousins.

  I was horrified because I had only sent them the beastliest of the Christmas cards that Mummy had bought for me.

  I was haunted by remorse as I opened the parcels. Guy had given me an electric torch; Martin a wooden cocker spaniel; and Camilla a book about a pony.

  ‘Oh dear,’ I said, ‘I only sent them Christmas cards with churches on them.’

  Daddy said, ‘What does it matter? Everybody knows that we haven’t got any money.’

  ‘Still, I might have sent them a coach and horses,’ I said, ‘or even a robin.’

  After we had been to church, we went back to lunch with the cousins. There was turkey and plum pudding and everything, and lots of crackers. Camilla was sick after lunch so she had to lie down, and the boys and I went out to the stable. Like Cavalier, the ponies had all had Christmas presents, but they were much better presents than I had been able to give him. Blackbird had a lovely day rug, blue with scarlet binding and Guy’s initials in scarlet, and Red Knight had a teak bucket, and Hesperus had a new bridle. The cousins were hunting next day, so we groomed the ponies; I did Hesperus, and he wasn’t nearly as good as Cavalier. He kicked at me when I was brushing his tail and wouldn’t pick up his hoofs when I wanted to clean them, but I must say his coat was lovely and shone like satin when I had finished it off with Guy’s silk pocket handkerchief.

  Before we went, Cousin Agnes said that of course I must come to the Pony Club rally on the thirty-first of December, so as soon as I got home I started grooming Cavalier, and when it was dark I took the tack up to the bathroom and cleaned it. I was very excited about the rally and all the next week I was busy grooming Cavalier, but he would roll every morning when I put him out in the orchard, and, as the weather was warm and wet, he got very muddy and it was rather disheartening. I got the saddle beautifully shiny and Mummy patched the place where the stuffing was coming out with a piece of flannel that was over from my pyjamas, but I couldn’t get the stirrups clean; the cousins hadn’t used the saddle for ages and they were terribly rusty. The bridle wasn’t bad, though the leather of the headband had cracked rather, and o
ne of the reins was all over the teeth marks of the cousins’ Sealyham, who had got into the stable and chewed it when he was a puppy.

  Well, the day came. It was fine, which was lucky because I had no riding coat, but it was rather cold so I put on a pullover inside my yellow sweater. The saddle and the bridle shone and Cavalier’s coat looked better than I had ever seen it; his tail wasn’t bald at all now, and his mane was much thicker. Mummy said that we looked very nice and that the horsey people would know how lovely Cavalier would be when he was fatter.

  We waved goodbye to Mummy and went slowly along the high road. I had started early because I didn’t want to arrive with my pony sweating. We had walked about a mile when I heard the clatter of hoofs behind us and two girls dashed past on three-figure hunters – at least they looked like that to me. The girls wore bowler hats and black coats and buff breeches and proper riding boots, and suddenly I felt awful with no hat and only a sweater and strap shoes. I noticed then that I was cold and that the sky was grey and it looked like rain – it is funny how you don’t notice the weather and being cold when you are feeling joyful and excited. I thought of turning back, only I knew that Mummy would ask why, and I wouldn’t be able to tell her; if I did, she would be miserable at not being able to buy me the right sort of clothes.

  So we jogged miserably along. The three-figure hunters had disappeared from view and Cavalier trotted as though he was tired already. I thought that I shouldn’t have minded about my clothes (except the strap shoes) if I had had a faster pony, and I gave Cavalier a whack with my stick and spoke to him crossly. The poor darling was so surprised that he broke into a canter and I was haunted by remorse. I stopped him and gave him some oats out of my pocket.

  He was munching the oats and I was hoping that he had forgotten the whack, when I heard the sound of hoofs coming down a side road just in front of us. In a moment a child appeared on a fat brown pony. A lady was leading it. When she saw me, she said in a helpful voice, ‘What is the matter, dear? Won’t he go?’