by Amy Brown
‘Phew! I think the team might be OK after all,’ Michaela said, letting out a sigh.
‘You never doubted us, did you?’ Kristen laughed.
‘Oh, I don’t know; it felt like the team was cursed for a moment there, what with Pip’s bad luck,’ Michaela said, taking the saddle from Jade, who was unsure of where to put it. The Lewises didn’t have just a dusty implement shed, but a proper stable with a tack room. Everything looked as clean and ordered as Mrs White’s kitchen; Jade was scared to ruin it.
‘Dad told me about poor Pip,’ Kristen said, once Dorian and Johnny had been given their feeds.
‘She’ll be OK,’ Jade said uncertainly. ‘I mean, she’s not good now; she can barely stand up. But your dad reckons she has an OK chance of recovering.’
‘It’s very hard losing a pony,’ Michaela said. ‘I’ve been there and so has Kristen. Remember Foxy, Kris?’ Kristen nodded briefly, but didn’t look up. ‘The point is that you’ll need to spend lots of time with Pip, especially as you’ll be going to Cambridge for three days in a week-and-a-half.’
‘Is it only a week-and-a-half away?’ Kristen asked, shocked.
‘That’s right. It’s crept up on us. Ideally, I’d have you practising every day, getting really familiar with Dorian, but I understand if that isn’t possible.’
‘It might be,’ Kristen said. ‘What if Dozz stayed at Mr White’s for the next week? I’d miss her, but it’d be a good way for Jade and her to bond. And I know Jade would take good care of her.’
Michaela thought about this. ‘That’s not a bad idea at all. Do you think Mr White would mind, Jade?’ Jade didn’t see why he would. Now that Pip was confined to the yard, there was an extra paddock free.
‘Well, in that case,’ Michaela said decisively, ‘I’ll bring her round tomorrow afternoon. You’ll be there, I take it?’
Jade nodded, hoping that Mr White wouldn’t mind, and, more importantly, that Pip wouldn’t mind. Jade didn’t want her sick pony to feel like she’d been replaced.
8
Butterflies
OK, I think we’ve remembered everything,’ Kristen said, unpacking the last of Dorian’s pristine gear from the truck. The pony herself had just been let loose in Mr White’s front paddock, and, not bothering to say hello to Brandy and Hamlet down the back, had immediately started grazing. Pip had pricked her ears and whinnied at the familiar face, but had not moved from the corner of her yard.
‘Thanks,’ Jade said, uncomfortably aware that Kristen’s valuable possessions were her responsibility for the next week.
‘If anything happens, don’t be afraid to call,’ Michaela said. Kristen saw Jade’s worried face. ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine. Dozz is so chilled out, she already seems at home here.’
Dorian was now standing next to Pip’s yard, sniffing at the sick pony’s nose.
‘Leave her alone, Dorian!’ Michaela called. ‘She’s an invalid.’
‘I think she likes the new company,’ Jade said.
‘Poor old thing looks so sore,’ Kristen said. ‘You probably won’t want to leave her next week, eh?’
Jade shook her head. But a small part of her was actually glad to be getting away. It was gruelling seeing Pip’s pain every day and not being able to do much about it.
‘That reminds me,’ Michaela said. ‘I’ve got a list of things you’ll need in Cambridge.’ She rifled around in the cab of the truck, then passed Jade a piece of paper. ‘Be here, ready, with all the items on the list, at seven next Friday morning. We’ll be picking up Amanda after you, so don’t be late.’
Jade promised to be ready on time, and waved as the Lewises’ huge truck drove out the Whites’ front gate, taking a branch off one of the beech trees with it. Not wanting to waste the last hours of daylight, Jade put Dorian in the yard next to Pip’s, groomed her briefly — having always worn a cover or summer sheet, the grey pony’s coat was in excellent condition — and tacked up for a quick ride.
Mr and Mrs White were out, so Jade, for once heeding the adults’ warning, concentrated on flat work. The jumps were tempting, but on a new pony, and without anyone to call the ambulance if she fell off, Jade cautiously avoided them. Instead she acquainted herself with Dorian’s gait and noticed that, although obviously well-schooled, even she had a few faults. At the trot, she had a tendency to over-bend — the opposite of Pip, who was often reluctant to stay on the bit.
After twenty minutes of walking, trotting and cantering on each rein — the highlight of which was discovering Dorian’s talent for flying changes, something Jade had never quite mastered with Pip — Jade rewarded the obedient pony with a cross-country canter around the long side paddock.
Shortening her stirrups two notches, Jade once again admired Kristen’s stunning saddle. Jade made up her mind to give it a thorough clean at least once before Saturday. This will be a busy week, Jade thought grimly, as she and Dorian flew around the paddock. The wind was in her face, and there was that comforting smell of wet grass after the muchneeded shower earlier that afternoon.
Jade tried to relax and enjoy herself, but in her head she was organizing the next few days. She’d have to be up by six each morning if she was going to have time to shower, breakfast, nurse Pip, muck out the paddock and finish her homework, all before class. Never mind, Jade thought philosophically. I shouldn’t complain — it could be worse. Pip’s laminitis could be fatal rather than gradually (as they all hoped) improving. Kristen could have decided not to lend Dorian to Jade, which would have meant not going to the Champs. Worse still, Jade’s dad could have made her move back to Auckland at the start of the year, stopping her from riding altogether. If there hadn’t been the car accident — if Jade’s mum hadn’t died — none of this busy week would be happening.
Shocked at how her mind ran away with her during cross-country canters, Jade brought Dorian back to a trot, then a walk, patting the handsome neck, sleek, silver and muscular as a dolphin.
‘It’s good to be busy,’ Jade told the pony as they walked on a loose rein back to the yards. ‘I’m lucky to have you. And thanks for being friendly to Pip. She likes having you here.’
Jade thought this again later as she sat on the top rail of the fence, watching the two mares contentedly eating their feeds. She didn’t rest for long, though; the paddock needed mucking out and if she didn’t start now, she wouldn’t be home in time for dinner.
‘Are you keeping up at school?’ her dad asked, concerned as Jade yawned between mouthfuls of chicken salad.
‘Yeah,’ Jade sighed, not looking up from her plate.
‘I’m not nagging,’ her dad replied. ‘It’s just that you seem exhausted from all the time you’ve been spending with the ponies. And you hardly ever mention school any more. I’ve missed hearing about Mr Wilde’s antics.’
‘I am keeping up; it’s fine,’ Jade said, putting down her knife and fork. ‘Mr Wilde would probably tell you if I was getting behind. And he wouldn’t be so good about me having Friday off, although he does want to see a note from you.’
‘Fair enough, that sounds OK. Remind me to write that note straight after dinner, otherwise I’ll forget.’
‘You won’t forget to visit Pip, will you?’ Jade asked.
‘Perish the thought!’ her dad said, in mock offence. ‘Between Mr White, your granddad and myself, that pony will have around-the-clock care. I do wish I could come and watch you in action at the Champs, though.’
On Thursday evening, Jade’s dad fussed almost as much as her mother would have.
‘You can’t take that sleeping bag: the zip’s broken!’ he exclaimed, holding Michaela’s list in one hand and a pen in the other. ‘What would the pony club mums think of me if I sent you to the Championships with a broken sleeping bag?’
‘Relax, Dad,’ Jade said. ‘All that matters is that my boots are polished, my shirt’s ironed, and my tie, jersey and jodhpurs are clean.’
‘Are they?’
‘Yes, sir!’ Jade saluted.
/> ‘Excellent. And you’ve packed a handkerchief?’
Jade rolled her eyes. ‘Dad! I don’t even have a cold.’
‘What about your badge? You’re always losing that.’
‘Not this time!’ Jade grinned. The little gold and blue oval, with a horse’s head inside a horseshoe and a tiny ‘C’ at the bottom, that Jade had earned when she passed her C-certificate exam, was safely zipped inside her sponge bag.
Finally, with her jeans and T-shirt laid out for the next morning, and her alarm set for a quarter to six, Jade fell into bed, exhausted. But she couldn’t stop worrying about the next few days. There were already butterflies in her stomach, just thinking about the competition.
‘Dad, I can’t sleep!’ Jade called through the wall.
‘Try reading a chapter of Oliver Twist,’ her dad called back. ‘You told me that was boring you to tears.’
Although her dad’s suggestion had been in jest, the plan worked. After only two pages, Jade was fast asleep, with the book on her face. Quietly her dad put Oliver Twist on the floor, turned off the bedside lamp and kissed her forehead. He was worried, too, but more about the long drive to Cambridge than the showjumping.
When the Lewises’ truck arrived at the Whites’, on the dot of seven, Jade, Dorian and their pile of belongings were all ready to go.
‘She looks very professional,’ Jade’s dad said, admiring Dorian as Jade threw on her immaculate travel sheet, first crossing the back straps, then buckling the front.
‘Has she been good for you this week?’ Michaela asked, taking the pony from Jade and leading her up the ramp of the truck. The reunion of the paddock mates, Johnny and Dorian, involved much whinnying, which set Pip off.
‘Poor old lady; you have to stay here,’ Jade apologized, giving her pony one last hug. ‘I promise I’ll be back in a few days. And you’ll be well looked after.’ ‘You certainly will,’ said Mr White, who’d come out to say goodbye. ‘No need to worry about her, Jade. You have fun and bring back some nice big ribbons.’
‘Take care, love,’ her dad said, squeezing her shoulder, not wanting to embarrass her in front of her friends. ‘I’ll have my fingers crossed for you on Saturday and Sunday.’
‘I’ll look after her like she’s my own,’ Michaela told Jade’s dad with a wink.
Hearing Pip’s frantic neighing and watching her dad and Mr White waving at the fence, Jade’s throat tightened.
‘Gosh, Pip misses you already,’ Kristen said. ‘Dorian didn’t seem to notice at all when I left her with you last week.’
‘Actually, I think it’s Dorian that Pip misses,’ Jade said, smiling. ‘They’ve become surprisingly good friends.’
Amanda’s house was down a narrow driveway lined with cyprus trees.
‘I’ll never get the truck through,’ Michaela decided finally, stopping at the gateway. ‘Could you two go in and tell Amanda I’m parked out here?’
‘That’s ludicrous! No one’s ever had trouble with the driveway before,’ Amanda’s mother said when Kristen explained the situation.
They made a slow procession to the truck with Amanda at the front, leading an excitable Blueberry Tart, Kristen next, carrying tack and grooming tools, Jade third, with the buckets and feed, and finally Mrs Nisbet in the rear, lugging Amanda’s suitcase.
‘Don’t let the team down,’ Mrs Nisbet said sternly to Amanda, once the horse was loaded and the gear stowed. Mother and daughter pecked each other on the cheek briefly, and then they were away.
Being on the road seemed a relief to everyone. Amanda, who wasn’t a morning person, soon fell asleep. The rest of them played Horse for the next twenty minutes or so, a simple game in which the player who spots the most horses wins (foals were worth two points and donkeys three). The game had to be abandoned once they’d passed the Shetland pony farm, though; as everyone lost count, and it was difficult to tell which ones were the foals.
‘I think I got thirty-five points,’ Kristen said competitively.
‘OK, looks like you won then,’ her mother replied. ‘Hey, Jade, have you heard from Becca this morning? Maybe you could send her a text while we’ve got reception and see whether they’re running to schedule. I was hoping we might have lunch with them in Turangi.’
‘They should be ahead of us,’ Jade said. She’d received three texts from Becca already this morning, mostly complaining about not knowing what to say to Corina and David, who seemed pretty much grownup at seventeen. Becca’s mum, as formidably efficient as Michaela, had ensured that her cargo was safely boarded by seven-thirty.
‘No problems, then? Everyone present?’
‘I think Medusa was tough to load, but other than that, no.’
‘Chestnut mares, eh? Pigs, the lot of them; except my mum’s little hunter, Angel. She was sweet as they come — the first horse I rode.’
Jade, who’d heard a little about Michaela’s horsey history when she’d done a school project on the Olympian last year, was eager to hear more.
‘Did you show-jump Angel?’ Jade asked.
‘For one season. She wasn’t clever enough or big enough to go to the top, though. Her real forte was on the hunting field. She was sensible but with plenty of stamina, and manners; what some people would call a “lady’s hunter”.’
For the next 30 kilometres, the four riders debated whether there was such a thing as a ‘girl’s pony’ or a ‘boy’s pony’. Even Amanda, who’d just woken up from her nap, joined in, saying that she thought such distinctions were rubbish. Jade used the case of Floyd as an example of a horse that preferred males.
‘That’s different, though, isn’t it?’ Kristen said. ‘If Lisa had been a man, Floyd would’ve been put off men. It was her fault.’
‘Probably,’ Michaela said. ‘But who really knows? I don’t know if horses judge their riders based on gender, but I’ve definitely seen certain horse-and-rider combinations that have really clicked.’
‘Like human relationships,’ Amanda said.
‘To some extent, but not exactly,’ Michaela went on. ‘It doesn’t help to personify horses, to forget that they’re not the same species as us. In that sense, the relationship between horse and rider is more impressive. At its best, it involves immense trust, loyalty and respect.’
‘Isn’t that Becca’s truck?’ Kristen said, leaning across Amanda and staring out the window. ‘Mum, stop!’
Remembering the horses in the back, Michaela indicated, slowed gradually and pulled over onto the grass verge.
‘Yeah, it’s Becca,’ Jade said, worried.
‘Kristen and Amanda, you stay here and supervise our lot. Refill the hay-nets if need be. Jade, you can come with me and see what’s happened.’
The grass verge was sufficiently wide for a parked truck, but the busy road made it a less than ideal spot for unloading horses.
‘Morning,’ Michaela said calmly to Becca’s mum, who looked frazzled. She and David were lowering the truck’s ramp. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Medusa’s gone down,’ David said. ‘Corina and Becca are inside. They’ve tried to get her up, but she won’t budge. We’ll have to unload the others.’
The ramp lowered at the side, rather than the back end, of the truck. Dusty, who’d been loaded first, just to the left of the door, was the easiest to get out. Panicked and sweaty, he didn’t wait for Becca to untie his lead rope, but pulled back violently, snapping the loop of twine to which he’d been tied and scraping his rump on the truck’s side as he careered out backwards.
‘Easy does it; steady, boy,’ Michaela said, still sounding implausibly calm.
Jade’s job was to keep an eye out for cars, and as far as was possible signal to them to slow down. ‘Clear!’ Jade shouted, fortunately just as Dusty came shooting out backwards onto the road.
‘You stupid girl!’ Becca’s mum scolded her daughter. ‘I told you to untie his lead rope and hang it over his neck before we put the ramp down. That way you could’ve kept a hold on him instead of letting h
im run out into the traffic. He could’ve been killed!’
Becca couldn’t help it; she started crying. ‘No harm done,’ Michaela said gently. ‘That’s the main thing.’
Becca’s mum, embarrassed at her outburst, took Dusty’s lead rope and tried to calm him down behind the truck. Becca followed, wanting to soothe her frightened pony.
David’s horse, Toby, was keen to disembark, too. But, unlike the skittish pony, he was sensibly cautious of the traffic and had to be helped out by his rider.
‘Wait!’ Jade shouted, as a blue SUV sped around the corner. Jade flinched, hating its driver for a moment. Didn’t he know how dangerous he was being? ‘Clear!’ she called, watching the vehicle disappear around the next corner.
With Toblerone safely out and standing, shivering, next to a slightly calmer Dusty, Medusa was now visible in the back. She was a dark shape, showing the whites of her eyes and struggling. Corina was at her head, stroking her neck and tugging on the halter as best she could. ‘Get up, you silly goose!’ Corina growled. ‘Up you get, silly!’ Jade was amazed at Corina’s grit. If it had been Pip stuck on her side in a horse-truck, rump sliding about in her own droppings, Jade would’ve been devastated.
With a sudden lunge of co-operation, Medusa pushed up painfully, front legs stretched out bearing the brunt of her weight until her near-hind hoof had a grip on the twisted rubber mat. A second great heave and a furious snort of pain got the tired mare up on three feet. The off-hind, however, was stuck fast in the wooden panel of the truck.
‘Oh no!’ Corina exclaimed. ‘Michaela, she’s kicked through the wall.’
Michaela swore under her breath and went up the ramp to have a look. ‘Try and keep her still, Corina,’ she instructed. ‘I know it’s hard.’