MClarke - Green Wellies and Wax Jackets

by Green Wellies

  ‘Oh, so what,’ Heather said. ‘It’s none of their business what you do. You’ve as much right to be here as they have. More right, I’d say,’ she added, under her breath, as she stood to one side and watched Ella pop Majesty over the jumps.

  It seemed such a shame that she wasn’t going to compete on him. He was obviously enjoying himself. The horse was a seasoned veteran of shows, since his previous owner, Janey Lake, had been a keen competitor. Pregnancy had lessened her enthusiasm for riding, and after the baby was born, she had decided to sell him. Janey’s loss was her gain, Heather thought smugly. She had been right to buy Majesty when she did. The horse had a promising future ahead of him. His ears were pricked forwards, his eyes were intelligent, and his conformation and paces were quite superb.

  ‘Heather!’

  She turned to see Linda Bannister, one of the girls from the farm stables heading her way, carrying a grooming kit under one arm, and a plastic cup of something in the other. ‘Thought that was you,’ she said, coming to stand alongside her. ‘I’m just taking a breather before the working hunter class. Debbie’s keeping an eye on Millie for me.’ She took a slurp of her hot drink. ‘Yuck,’ she said. ‘No sugar.’ She nodded her head in Majesty’s direction. ‘I thought you were riding him today.’

  ‘That was the plan,’ Heather said.

  ‘But?’ She placed her grooming box at her feet and turned expectantly to look at her.

  ‘They changed the conditions of entry,’ she said. ‘So I asked Ella to compete on him instead.’

  ‘In the Simon De Silva stakes?’

  Heather nodded. ‘Well let’s face it; she’s the one with the blonde hair.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I heard about that,’ Linda said. ‘It’s for a part in some film, or something. I suppose that explains why Vanessa’s dyed hers such a fetching shade of yellow. She did pretty well on Minstrel, though, didn’t she?’ she added.

  ‘I don’t know. Did she?’

  Linda nodded as she stooped to retrieve her grooming kit. ‘She got a clear round and she’s through to the jump-off. Anyway, I’ll catch you later, Heather. Got to do a quick brush up and polish on Millie.’

  ‘Good luck,’ Heather said. Clear round, hmm? She glanced at her watch, and then over at Majesty, being expertly ridden around the ring. Seemed a shame to let this opportunity go to waste. ‘Ella?’ she called. ‘Ella, come here a minute.’

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we have five riders through to the final jump-off, and two riders left to compete in this, the Simon De Silva show jumping stakes. Now, as you all now, the producer of Blackwater Films has agreed to let the winner feature in Simon’s latest movie. So let’s give a rousing round of support for our next competitor – Miss Camellia Brown on Silver…’

  ‘No!’ Ella said. ‘I can’t, Heather. I don’t have time.’

  ‘You do,’ Heather insisted. ‘It’ll only take a few minutes. Ten minutes at the most. You know you want to.’

  ‘Yes, I know I want to,’ Ella said, staring over at the gates leading to the entrance into the Grand Ring. It was what she wanted more than anything. It hadn’t bothered her before – the lack of competitions. She hadn’t had time to compete. But now that she was here – now that she could feel the atmosphere and the growing tension, she knew she desperately wanted to take part.

  ‘Ten minutes,’ Heather repeated.

  Ella ran her hand down Majesty’s neck. He was stamping his foot up and down, as if he too was eager to get going. ‘It won’t even take that long,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I can go straight in, ride the course, and come straight out again.’

  ‘Course you can.’

  She glanced back over her shoulder. The previous contender was heading for the last jump. There was no one else left to ride. If she was going to compete, she had to do it, and do it now.

  ‘Right!’ she said, her mind made up. ‘What number am I?’

  ‘249,’ Heather said, frantically groping in her pockets for the label. ‘And I’ve even got the pins. Lean over and I’ll clip it on.’ She waved over at one of the jump judges. ‘Yoo-hoo!’ she called. ‘We’re over here! Number 249 – Gabriella Johnson? Yes, she’s just coming.

  Go for it,’ she added, hurriedly pinning the black and white label onto the back of Ella’s show jacket.

  ‘Wish me luck,’ she said, gathering up the reins.

  ‘You don’t need it,’ Heather said. ‘But good luck anyway.’

  The last rider, a chubby faced girl with pink cheeks and a flighty looking palomino pony, trotted out of the arena.

  Ella gave her a polite nod as she passed. This was it, then. She took in a deep breath, and exhaled it slowly, before urging the horse forwards. ‘Come on, Majesty,’ she murmured. ‘Let’s show them what you’re made of.’

  The atmosphere around the Grand Ring was highly charged, as spectators crowded into the main Grandstand, or stood jostling by the railings, eager for front row positions. The fact that the film crew was in evidence no doubt added to the large number of people clamouring for places.

  Ella trotted Majesty around the arena, and tried to get her bearings before the whistle signalled the start of her turn. The jumps were fairly evenly spread out, with two doubles, a triple spread and a few brush hedges. One of the turns would be tricky, but she could make up time in the run for the water.

  ‘Steady boy,’ she murmured, sensing Majesty’s excitement. He had started to prance rather proudly with his tail held high and his ears pricked forwards in anticipation.

  ‘Get this,’ the cameraman muttered, as he peered through the lens. ‘Miles is going to like this one. Jack – see if you can get the sound.’

  ‘And our final competitor in this, the first round of the Simon De Silva show-jumping stakes, is Miss Gabriella Johnson, riding Majesty…’

  ‘What! What!’

  Ursula’s deranged shriek drew more than a passing glare from the boom operator, who was trying to record the scene.

  ‘There’s got to be some mistake,’ Ursula blurted, leaping to her feet and peering short-sightedly at the distant horse and rider, her quivering frame conveniently blocking out the view from Adam Spencer’s lens.

  She had returned to the spectators’ stand in order to study the rest of the competition. As far as she could see, none of the other riders were a patch on Vanessa. Her daughter, she was sure, was going to walk it. So much so, that she was already deciding what she was going to wear at the film’s premiere. (Something stylish and expensive, naturally). The announcement of the name, “Gabriella Johnson” over the loudspeaker threw her daydreams into total disarray.

  ‘It can’t be Ella!’ she shrieked.

  ‘Madam, please. If you don’t mind.’ The sound engineer pointed at the overhead microphone.

  ‘Mind! I’ll give you mind!’ She gave him a withering glare as she tossed her handbag over one shoulder and stormed past him. ‘Vanessa! Caroline!’

  ‘This is hopeless,’ Jack muttered.

  ‘I guess that means we don’t have sound,’ Adam said.

  ‘Oh we do,’ Jack sighed. ‘But not the sort of background sound that Miles wants. We’ll need to cut that bloody commentator out as well.’

  ‘On the other hand,’ Adam swivelled the camera round. ‘This could be better.’ He motioned to one of the other technicians positioned at the entrance to the arena. ‘Let’s keep recording, Jack. We could be on to something here.’

  ‘It’s not fair!’ wailed Vanessa, her plump cheeks blotchy and tear-stained. ‘Why did she have to show up? Mother, you promised!’

  ‘I know, darling, I know.’ Ursula was trying her best to be supportive, but had never been very good at dealing with tears and tantrums.

  ‘She’s cleared the double,’ Caroline informed them smugly. ‘And the water. In fact, I’d say she’s doing rather well.’

  This prompted another heart-rending sob from Vanessa that even had the sound engineer (who was furtively trying to record their conversation) feeling sorry for her.
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  ‘She’s trying to steal my glory. I know she is.’

  ‘Hush darling,’ Ursula soothed. ‘You’ve still got the jump-off, and we don’t know if she’s going to get through to that, yet.’

  ‘Oh yes she is,’ Caroline announced, who had been watching the proceedings with glee. She turned round to face them with a sickly sweet smile on her face. ‘She’s got a clear round. Ella’s going to be in the final.’

  ‘Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!’ Heather jumped over the barriers and ran to catch hold of Majesty’s reins as Ella came trotting out of the ring.

  ‘Wasn’t he just,’ Ella said, patting his neck. Her face glowed with delight. ‘You’ve got a real star here, Heather. He wasn’t fazed by anything.’

  ‘It was you, I meant,’ Heather chuckled. ‘I knew he could do it.’

  ‘Cheek!’ Ella said as she swung her leg over the saddle and jumped down. Still, she had every right to be pleased with her performance. If someone had told her that morning, that she would be riding a Champion horse in the Grand ring in front of thousands of spectators, she would have thought they were off their heads. It was years since she had done any competitive jumping, and yet it had felt so right and so natural. She had moulded herself to the horse and they had formed a true partnership – one of total trust and belief. It was quite exhilarating.

  She rubbed Majesty’s damp brow and smiled as he nuzzled her cheek. ‘How long do you think we’ve got before the jump-off?’ she said.

  Heather shrugged. ‘I don’t think it’ll be very long. They’re adjusting some of the poles now. My guess is that they’ll want to get it over with as soon as possible.’

  Ella glanced at her watch. But would it be soon enough? She’d promised the film crew she would be back on set in – Crikey! Five minutes. She would hardly have time to ride over there in that time, let alone compete in the final beforehand.

  Heather saw her worried look, and caught hold of her arm. ‘You can’t back out now,’ she said.

  ‘I can’t do anything else,’ Ella sighed. She glanced up at the sky, already thickening with clouds and the promise of rain. ‘They’ve got to finish the outdoor filming today.’

  ‘Fine,’ Heather said, nodding. ‘I appreciate that, but half an hour isn’t going to make much difference, is it?’ She squeezed her arm. ‘I know how much you want to do this, Ella. I’m sure the film crew will understand.’

  ‘I don’t think they will,’ she said. From what she had seen of it, filming seemed to operate on a tight schedule, with everyone expected to be in set places and allocated positions at set times. Far be it for her to upset the equilibrium. And yet she felt as if she was being torn in two directions. She desperately wanted to take part in the final. She had come this far and now she needed to see if she could win. But how could she, when she was supposed to be at the other end of the Showground at the same time?

  ‘Ella, for once in your life,’ Heather sighed, ‘do something for you. The world isn’t going to end if you’re a few minutes late.’

  ‘Yes, I know. It’s just that I said I’d be there.’

  ‘And you will be,’ Heather assured her. ‘After you’ve done the jump-off.’

  ‘Where is she, Lewis?’ Miles demanded, pacing backwards and forwards across the set, his tweed jacket looking more crumpled than usual.

  The cameras were in position, the microphones and sound engineers on standby, and the dolly all set to roll.

  A ramp with springs had been crudely assembled under the guise of a loading ramp, to assist Simon when he vaulted onto the horse. Except, that there was now no horse. No horse and no rider.

  ‘It’s your money, Lewis. But it’s my time.’

  ‘Yes, ok.’ He glanced irritably at his watch. ‘She’ll be here.’

  ‘The thought of “when” springs to mind,’ Miles muttered. ‘Ok team, we’ll take a break. I want you all back here in fifteen minutes. Dave, let me see those shots of the crowd. Yes, on that monitor. Oh, and Molly, I want you to hang around for a bit longer. We may need to do that window scene again.’

  Lewis swore beneath his breath as he jabbed at the numbers on his mobile phone. ‘Lucy? Get back here. Of course it’s bloody important. Yes, I do mean now.’ He clicked off the call, and then rang the next number. ‘James? James, where are you? I need you on set…’

  ‘Lewis!’ Matthew came running from behind the scenes. ‘I think you should…’

  ‘Shut up a moment. No, not you, James.’ He motioned at Matthew to be quiet. ‘Yes it is a crisis. Yes.’ He clicked off the phone. ‘Well?’ He glowered over at him. ‘I hope it’s good news.’

  ‘Hmm. Sort of,’ Matthew said.

  ‘What do you mean, “sort of”?’

  Matthew volunteered a smile. ‘She’s in the final.’

  ‘Who is?’ Lewis’ eyes widened. ‘You don’t mean Ella?’

  ‘I certainly do.’ He grinned. ‘And, rumour has it, that she stands a very good chance of winning.’

  ‘Bloody woman!’ Lewis gave an exasperated groan. ‘So that’s where she disappeared to. She was supposed to be keeping the horse warmed up.’

  ‘Oh, it’s warmed up all right. You should have seen it, Lewis. It was magnificent. She made it look easy. Some of those jumps are pretty formidable.’

  ‘And she’s riding in the final?’

  Matthew nodded. ‘There are six of them competing. The same course, but it’s against the clock.’

  ‘This I’ve got to see,’ Lewis said, making a run for the gate. ‘No wait.’ He pointed over at one of the trailers. ‘Fetch Miles. Oh, and make sure we’ve got a film unit in the ring.’

  ‘We have,’ Matthew said. ‘A couple of teams are already down there getting a few background shots.’

  ‘Then warn them!’ Lewis yelled. ‘I want them ready for this.’

  ‘Why, exactly?’ Matthew said, reaching for his mobile phone.

  ‘Don’t ask,’ Lewis said. ‘Just do it.’

  ‘That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. We have six riders in the final jump-off, and I must say we’re in for a thrilling competition. This will be against the clock with time penalties incurred for any faults….’

  ‘Where is she?’ Lewis said, pushing his way to the front of the ring. The roar of the crowd was deafening as the first rider cantered into the arena.

  ‘Over there.’ Matthew pointed to the small group of riders circling the collecting ring. ‘On the bay horse with the flaxen tail and mane.’

  Lewis squinted into the distance. A commotion of sorts was going on just outside the arena, and Ursula Johnson appeared to be in the thick of it.

  ‘Zoom in on them,’ he instructed one of the cameramen. ‘May I?’ he added, snatching at an elderly gentleman’s pair of binoculars, which hung on a strap around his neck.

  What appeared to be a war of words was going on between the girl on the grey Arab, and the owner of Majesty. Vanessa and Heather, he decided, handing back the field glasses with a curt ‘Thank-you.’

  ‘Well, I must say…’muttered the elderly gentleman.

  ‘Jack – get a sound crew over there,’ Lewis said. ‘Matthew, come with me.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter who wins,’ Ursula was saying, in the soothing tone she reserved for inconsolable children at their first gymkhana.

  ‘It does, Mother,’ Vanessa sniffed, pointedly glaring at her stepsister. ‘She shouldn’t be here.’

  ‘Well she is, so just accept it,’ Heather snapped. ‘Just because your mean little plan failed…’

  ‘What mean little plan?’ Ursula snorted. ‘Ella was left in charge of the stables…’

  ‘Ella is in charge of the stables,’ Heather said. ‘The business is hers, remember?’

  ‘Well that’s neither here, nor there.’

  ‘You would say that.’

  ‘For goodness sake!’ Ella swung Majesty’s head round until she sat facing the squabbling group. She had had quite enough of this senseless bickering. Vanessa and Caroline were lookin
g at her as if she had crawled out from under a stone, Ursula was trying to be agreeable, and failing miserably, and Heather was just being plain bolshy. ‘Can you stop arguing for one moment?’ she demanded.

  Her loud and determined voice had them all staring up at her in shocked surprise. Ella didn’t usually answer back. In fact, Ella never raised her voice – not to anyone.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said firmly. ‘Now then, I’ve as much right as anyone to take part in this competition, and it’s up to me whether I ride in it, or not.’ She stared pointedly at Ursula as she spoke. ‘As it happens, I’ve made up my mind to compete. Majesty did well in the first round, and I’d like to see if he could do better in the next. I’m not doing it to spite you, Vanessa, and I’m sorry if that’s how you feel about it. I’m here because I intend to do my best,’ she added softly. ‘Just as I expect everyone else to do the same.’