by Amy Brown
Yours sincerely,
Lisa
‘So the grazing money Lisa gave me was stolen from the café?’ Mr White asked, wearily.
‘It seems likely,’ Jade said. ‘Hey, you don’t think Floyd was stolen too?’
Mr White stared at Jade, aghast. ‘Please don’t say that, Jade! It’ll be troublesome enough trying to sell him on, even if he isn’t stolen property.’
‘I can ask at practice if anyone wants a new horse,’ Jade offered. ‘Which reminds me, Becca’s picking us up in ten minutes and I haven’t even groomed Pip.’
‘You’d better get cracking then,’ Mr White agreed. ‘I’ll call Laura’s parents now and let them know about Lisa.’
On the way to the pony club grounds, Jade told Becca and Matthew about Lisa’s note.
‘So Floyd’s on the market, then?’ he said thoughtfully.
‘Would you be interested?’ Jade asked. ‘You seemed to get along with him the other weekend.’
‘Yeah, it’s been ages since I rode, but I’d be keen to start again.’
‘You should talk to Mum about it,’ Becca said sensibly. ‘After all, we’d be the ones having to look after Floyd while you were in Palmerston.’
‘I’m the one chauffeuring you about today,’ Matthew said, elbowing his sister in the ribs. ‘I think it’d only be fair if you looked after my horse while I’m away.’
‘Only if you let me ride him,’ Becca replied.
Matthew took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know if I could do that to poor Floyd,’ he said, teasing. ‘The way your hands wobble about when you ride Dusty! I wouldn’t wish that on any horse of mine.’
Becca gasped and punched her brother in the arm. The two continued bickering all the way to the grounds. Jade looked on, laughing, and once again wondering what it would’ve been like if she’d had siblings.
‘Girls, you’re late to the first practice,’ Michaela scolded as they trotted over to the other ponies and riders. ‘That’s disappointing.’
But once again, on the strength of their gossip about Lisa, the girls were excused.
‘Poor Jim,’ Michaela said, shaking her head. ‘That’s a burden. Not to mention the café!’
The rest of the team, and the riders’ parents, murmured about the scandal for a few minutes, the general agreement being that such things hardly ever happened in Flaxton.
‘That’s enough gossiping for now,’ Michaela finally announced, clapping her hands. ‘Everyone walking in a circle around me now, to warm up. Kristen, you lead off. Today, what I want from you is humility and attentiveness.’ As if on cue, Pip pricked up her ears, making Jade smile. ‘You’re each feeling pretty great about winning a place in the team — and so you should. However, this is just the beginning. Right now, you and your ponies are good by Flaxton standards, but from hereon in Flaxton standards aren’t good enough! I want a higher standard from each and every one of you, OK? I know you’re all capable of succeeding, as long as you listen to me.’
At Michaela’s command, each of the riders walked, trotted and cantered their ponies and horses, first on one rein and then the other.
‘And now, adjust the stride,’ Michaela said, in a hypnotic voice. ‘Collect the canter, make it shorter, bouncier, full of scope. More, Jade — Pip’s canter is still flat. That’s better,’ Michaela praised, as Jade concentrated on sitting deep in the saddle and driving forward with her seat, while keeping her legs wrapped firmly around Pip’s sides.
‘On the count of three, I want you each to count four canter strides, then move back down to a trot. Ready? One, two, three.’
When Michaela was satisfied with the warm-up, she led the team over to a course of three fences, each four strides apart and not quite in a straight line. ‘Amanda, Corina and David, keep warming up for now,’ she said to the team members who were on horses rather than ponies. ‘I’ll move the jumps further apart once the ponies have been through.’
The jumps were only 80 centimetres high, but Jade suspected there would be a catch.
Becca looked nervous, too. Kristen, on the other hand, was lying back with her head on Dorian’s dapple-grey rump and chewing at the rubber handle of her whip.
‘Have you done this before?’ Jade asked Kristen.
‘Hundreds of times,’ Kristen replied in a bored voice. ‘I know it’s good for the horse and stuff, like a pianist doing scales before playing whole songs, but I’d rather just jump a course.’
‘The jumps are on a funny angle,’ Becca said.
‘Yeah, that’s the point,’ Kristen explained. ‘The first time through, Mum will tell us to approach each jump straight on, and concentrate on getting our ponies bending correctly. The second time through, she’ll ask us to canter in a straight line, meaning that we approach the jumps on an angle, if you see what I mean.’
Becca did see, and she was instantly worried. ‘That sounds hard.’
Jade smiled at Kristen. ‘Becca always complains that something’s too difficult, then does it perfectly.’
Becca blushed.
‘OK, girls,’ said Michaela, who’d been adjusting the height of the last jump. ‘This exercise is like scales for a pianist.’
The girls started giggling. ‘What’s funny?’ Michaela asked, looking stern.
‘Nothing, it’s just that Kristen was telling us about the course and used exactly the same words,’ Jade said.
Michaela smiled then, too. ‘Goodness! You’ve actually been listening to your mother’s advice. As a reward, I won’t make you go first. Becca, how about you?’
Becca made a face, but did as she was told. ‘Don’t rush,’ Michaela said, as Dusty broke into a brisk canter. ‘Take it easy, feel for the strides and use your legs to keep Dusty nice and supple as he bends.’
Becca listened carefully and did her best, but Dusty still didn’t bend to Michaela’s satisfaction. ‘That was a good first attempt, but on the last jump in particular, you cut the corner and approached it on an angle, which isn’t what I was asking for this time. Come round and try again.’
With a worried but determined expression, Becca did the course again, exaggerating the corners this time and going at a very slow canter.
‘Lovely!’ Michaela clapped. ‘Just what I was after. See if you can do exactly the same, Jade.’
Pip, who was often a little reluctant to bend correctly on the left rein, managed the first two jumps well, but became disunited on the last corner. Although Pip cleared the third jump, Michaela pointed out to Jade that, had the jumps been much higher, they would have been less lucky.
‘One more try, Jade,’ Michaela suggested. ‘This time, left leg firmly pressed at the girth on the final corner.’
Doing as she was told, Jade rode Pip through the course again, this time with better results. Pip was on the right leg the whole way through and approached each jump straight and balanced.
‘That’s what I mean by a higher standard,’ Michaela said, addressing the horse-riders too, who, bored of warming up, had stopped to watch Jade’s round. ‘So far, you’ve all managed to scramble through a small pony club course, on the wrong leg or disunited. From now on, I don’t just want clear rounds, but controlled clear rounds. Kristen, your turn.’
Although she and her Grand Prix-winning pony, Dorian, had appeared lethargic and bored until now, their demeanour changed as soon as they approached the course. With a firm seat, and almost invisible commands with her legs and hands, Kristen went straight from walk to canter.
‘That looked perfect,’ Jade sighed as they completed the course.
‘Practice makes perfect,’ Michaela said. ‘It’s a cliché, but in this case it’s true. Practise this exercise regularly and you’ll see a marked improvement.’
Before changing the course for the horses, Michaela asked the pony-riders to go through once again, this time cutting the corners and approaching the jumps on an angle. To demonstrate, Kristen and Dorian went first.
‘You put in an extra stride between the last two
jumps,’ Michaela said critically. ‘But we’re running out of time, so I won’t make you go again.’
When her mother wasn’t looking, Kristen rolled her eyes, making Jade giggle.
‘Your turn now, Jade,’ Michaela said, either oblivious or ignoring the girls’ cheek. ‘If you ride confidently at the first jump, the rest should go smoothly.’
Pip was dubious of approaching the first jump at an unnecessarily odd angle, but Jade drove her on as if they were beginning a jump-off. This strong start meant that Pip’s stride was too long as they met the second jump. Jade collected her pony and managed to get the correct four strides. This careful riding pleased Michaela. ‘It’s attention to detail like that which will shave seconds off your jump-off times,’ she said, before telling Becca to have her turn.
‘If you’re worried about the angle, pretend it’s a jump-off; that’s what I did,’ Jade whispered to her nervous friend. Taking Jade’s advice, Becca cantered Dusty in a warm-up circle. From his pricked ears and bouncy stride, Jade could see that Dusty had understood Becca’s signal. They approached the course in a tight circle, as if it really were part of a jump-off. Realizing what was required of him, Dusty sped up but still made four perfect strides in between each jump. Becca gave him a firm pat on the neck as she trotted back to the group.
‘A fraction faster than I’d like to see,’ Michaela said. ‘But he seemed to be enjoying himself and you were in control, so I shouldn’t really complain.’
When Michaela instructed the pony-riders to warm down with a ten-minute walk around the grounds, then untack their ponies, Becca and Jade were disappointed.
‘We didn’t even do a whole round of a course,’ Becca complained to Kristen, as they walked on a long rein, three-abreast, around the cross-country course.
‘Yeah, exercises aren’t that much fun,’ Kristen agreed. ‘But if you look at your pony,’ she gestured at Dusty’s damp belly, ‘you’ll see that he’s been working hard.’ ‘I guess,’ Becca said.
‘That was quite fun, though,’ Jade said, trying to lighten the conversation. ‘I feel like I learnt something.’
‘That’s lucky,’ Kristen said. ‘At the end of every lesson she takes, Mum makes you tell her what you’ve learnt.’
Sure enough, once the team had met at the pony club shed — on foot this time, having made their hard-working mounts comfortable at the trucks — Michaela asked everyone to share what they’d learnt.
Becca, to Jade’s surprise, went first. ‘I learnt that even though that exercise seemed small compared with doing a whole course, it was actually really hard work for Dusty.’ Kristen raised her eyebrows at Becca and then started laughing.
‘First of all, I don’t know why you’re all so giggly — I’ll excuse it as team bonding —’ Michaela said, ‘but, yes, Becca’s absolutely right. What seems boring and repetitive to us can actually be a challenging gymnastic exercise for our horses. Think about it. Alright, who’s next?’
Jade wished she’d got in next, because everyone else ended up saying, in slightly different words, what she’d learnt. When it came to her turn, Jade mumbled, ‘Just the same as everyone else, I suppose: the importance of controlling your pony’s stride in between jumps.’ Jade blushed as she finished. Speaking in front of people, especially older, better riders than herself, was never easy.
‘Can’t be repeated too many times,’ Michaela said. ‘Controlling your horse’s stride improves your chances of getting a fast, clear round. Simple as that. Showjumping is technical. It’s about getting your timing and angles right. Both of these rely on a correct, controlled stride. I know this practice was a bit boring, but I hope you understand its importance. Next week I promise we’ll apply what we’ve learnt today to a real course.’
By the time Jade had said goodnight to Pip and let her go in Mr White’s front paddock, it was eight-thirty and nearly dark. She biked home quickly, hungrily wondering what her dad had made for dinner.
As she let herself in the front door, Jade’s dad was on the phone in the hallway.
‘Jade! Where have you been? Why weren’t you answering your cellphone?’ he said, hanging up the receiver as he saw her. His eyes were wide and panicked.
‘Just at practice,’ Jade said in a small voice. ‘Sorry if you were worried.’
‘Have you lost your phone?’ he said, almost shouting.
‘No, it was just at the bottom of my school bag. I forgot about it.’
‘I thought you’d had an accident — Mr White didn’t know where you were, Granddad hadn’t seen you. I was about to call the hospital.’
‘I’m fine,’ Jade said quietly, embarrassed. ‘Sorry I didn’t check my phone.’
‘Never mind,’ her dad said, giving her a tight hug. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Jade.’
Jade didn’t know what to say. ‘What’s for dinner?’ she asked eventually, still trapped in the bear hug. Her dad let go of her and chuckled.
‘Yes, I guess you’re starving. Get changed out of your riding gear and I’ll heat up the macaroni cheese.’ Sitting on the couch with her dad, watching CSI on the TV and shovelling her dinner into her mouth, Jade felt pleasantly weary.
‘How was your day?’ she asked her dad during an ad break.
‘Pretty good,’ he replied. ‘We’ve decided to run a story about your friend Lisa and the disappearing café money.’
‘She’s not my friend!’ Jade objected.
‘I know, I was just teasing. Anyway, the story will be printed tomorrow. Readers who have any information on Lisa’s whereabouts will be asked to phone the Flaxton police station.’
‘It’s got serious,’ Jade said, suddenly feeling some sympathy for the young, blonde woman who couldn’t look after her horse.
6
Poor Pip
In response to Jade’s dad’s story in the Flaxton Times, the police and local radio station were inundated with supposed sightings of Lisa. Joan, Granddad’s friend who ran a tiny second-hand book shop, thought she’d seen a woman fitting Lisa’s description standing outside the Salvation Army chapel as if she were waiting for someone.
‘This was last Sunday morning at about seven,’ she said, cheeks pink and eyes twinkling. Jade and her grandfather had been birthday shopping for her dad and were walking down Flaxton’s main street when Joan had called out to them. ‘Me, I’m an early riser,’ Joan went on, clearly delighted to be able to contribute first-hand to the town’s mystery. ‘So, as I was doing a little dusting out the front of the shop, I remember seeing one of those nasty little boy-racer cars. You know the sort: shiny and low to the ground, exhaust pipe as wide as this vase.’ She held up a large white china object, with a milkmaid and a cow painted on its side. Jade thought the milkmaid looked like she was about to cry and couldn’t blame her.
‘Yes, I know what you mean,’ Jade’s granddad said impatiently.
‘Well, the girl Lisa — I’m sure it was her — hopped into this car and they drove off north.’
‘What did the driver look like?’ Jade asked.
‘You know, I couldn’t tell you. The windows were tinted.’ Joan shared this last detail with relish, as if it revealed more about the driver than a description of his face ever would.
At school a girl from Year 9 came over to Laura at lunchtime and told her that she knew how she felt.
‘What do you mean?’ Laura asked, baffled. ‘Two of our sheep have gone missing, and my brother saw someone with blonde hair running along the fence line the other night. We reckon it must be Lisa.’
‘Oh,’ Laura said. ‘Um, thanks for letting me know.’
‘No problem,’ the girl said seriously, before joining the queue at the tuck shop.
‘This is getting ridiculous,’ Becca said, when the girl was out of earshot. ‘Lisa couldn’t have stolen two sheep. I saw her — she’s scrawny as, and sheep are heavy.’
‘I don’t know,’ Laura replied darkly. ‘I wouldn’t put anything past her.’
After another
few days of speculation, during which the police established that Lisa wasn’t with her parents and sister in Palmerston North, the mysterious blonde woman became a missing person. Jade’s dad’s stories weren’t just published in the Flaxton Times but in the Dominion Post, too.
Seeing her photo in a North Island-wide newspaper must have been the last straw, because the day after the story was printed, Lisa came forward to a police station in Hastings.
‘She’d run away with her boyfriend, but felt terrible when she realized her family thought she was dead or something,’ Laura told the class and an indulgent Mr Wilde. ‘She phoned Mum, and has already started to pay the money back, so we’re not going to press charges,’ Laura added.
‘So the local drama has finished its season?’ Mr Wilde said to his confused class. ‘The curtains have closed and we must return to the monotony of everyday life?’
‘I guess,’ Becca said uncertainly. ‘Mr White owns her horse, Floyd, now, so that’s her last connection with Flaxton gone.’
During the week-and-a-half of Lisa’s disappearance, Matthew had been visiting Floyd regularly. Although his hip injury was still healing and riding was out of the question, Matthew could hobble into the paddock with pockets full of horse mints and spend half an hour making a fuss of the abandoned horse. Not bothering with a halter, Matthew would take a body brush into the paddock and, as he chatted to Floyd and fed him treats, groom him thoroughly. It wasn’t long before Floyd was following Matthew around the paddock like an obedient dog.
‘That’s amazing!’ Jade said one afternoon as she watched Matthew playing with Floyd. She’d just finished a good hour’s exercise and was cooling Pip down by walking on a long rein. Kicking her feet out of the stirrups and stretching her tired legs, Jade watched Matthew tell Floyd to ‘halt’. He then hobbled about 10 metres away, stopped and said, ‘Come, Floyd!’ On Matthew’s command, the young gelding trotted over to the person with the pockets full of horse mints. Briefly rewarding Floyd with a treat, Matthew proceeded to walk in a figure of eight, with the horse shadowing him, nuzzling at his pockets.