by Dave Warner
Had it just been the humiliation, however, she could have coped. Lots of the kids were good kids, respectful and, even more important, light. However, far too large a proportion were savages. They prodded, they scratched, they tugged her mane, her tail, her ears. They shoved toffee apples in her eye. One, his name was Max, even got so scared on the great big horse he wet his pants and HER! The brats did not feed her so much as a sliver of the pizza they crammed into their own fat mouths, they did not let her lick out their ice-cream sundaes. At best she was offered carrot, apple and, on one occasion by a three-year-old, a vegemite sandwich. She was so hungry she took a bite. It wasn't half as disgusting as it looked but it was not a patch on the tortellini carbonara you got at Il Respositore on Sunset, that was for sure. Antonio the chef there did something amazing with fennel. She knew that the longer she could put up with all this, the better the chance of Charlotte finding her. Her brain was telling her that the sensible thing was to wait it out, that all bad things, just like all good things, would come to an end.
But let's face it, sometimes, no matter how hard you try, no matter what your resolve, you snap. It had been the obese triplets that had finally done it. When they clambered on, her back was already sore. Approximately eight years old and female (as far as she could tell), their species was indeterminate, possibly human. One of them pulled out her bobby pin and thought it would be fun to jab it into Leila's neck. This was around the same time that another one spilled her slushie over Leila's mane. The third just screamed in Leila's ear. Leila decided it was time for payback. She waited until Mark O'Regan's hand, the one that was holding the lead rope, went to prod the remainder of a fried sausage into his mouth. At the instant he loosened his grip, she accelerated, full speed ahead. O'Regan tried to latch onto the lead rope and, in fact, his greasy hand did grasp the rope but he was off balance and Leila had picked up pace. O'Regan was yanked off his feet.
The triplets laughed, the crowd screamed. Leila's mouth was hurting but she would not relent. As O'Regan's fat body bobbed over the rough ground of the Salt Flat oval, leaving pieces of his skin as reminders of the route taken, Leila drove onwards trying to think of a destination for her cargo. A clump of stinging nettles to the south had an obvious attraction. But O'Regan would not let go and the drag of his weight was beginning to tell. He yelled and cursed, telling Leila what he would do when she stopped. It involved skinning her alive and boiling her in oil, threats which were hardly likely to make her halt. She veered sharp right. The clown who had been entertaining a small audience by balancing spinning plates and pans on two long sticks panicked and was rained on by china and aluminium. Only one of the triplets found this funny. The other two had begun screaming.
Good, thought Leila as she crossed the bitumen road. It was one thing for O'Regan to hold on over rough earth, quite another to endure the pain of bitumen. As the tar bit, he let go. Unfettered now, Leila charged towards the gate and freedom. At the same time a large truck carrying a combine harvester approached at right angles.
Leila spied the vehicle too late. All she could tell was that it was carrying something that looked like a giant Freddy Kruger glove, vicious metal spikes pointing skyward. She'd loved Freddy Kruger, the most memorable horror-film nemesis of all time. Nightmare on Elm Street had been the name of the Freddy Kruger movies and Leila had seen every one several times. In fact Leila had gone to one of Paris H's Halloween costume parties wearing pyjamas as the 'Night-Mare'.
That had been fun. This wasn't.
The truck driver spied the bolting horse and swerved to avoid it. The harvester, which had not been properly secured, toppled sideways.
Leila had visions of herself impaled on this terrible machine. She hit the skids and shied, only then remembering the triplets who were jolted free, sailing through the air and landing Splat, Splat, Plop in the nearby Salt Flat Fair piggery. Leila had no time to enjoy the moment as the harvester cartwheeled past her, missing her by a fraction before it came to rest upside down. That was one close call. She should have got going immediately but her legs were jelly.
'You stupid nag!'
O'Regan's hands seized the lead rope. He was wheezing and spluttering. From the tone of his voice, Leila expected the skinning and boiling to start any second.
'So what did Strudworth say when you told her?'
Hannah was trotting beside Charlotte, eager to get the rest of the story. It was afternoon training. The girls had done the slalom and were getting ready for the sprint. Charlotte was riding a brown gelding with the unimpressive name of Mikey. He was easy to handle but without the rhythm or grace of Leila.
'Bevans did most of the talking. Strudworth was shocked to hear about him being sacked and Leila being sold. She said she would come back right away and sort things out.'
'So you haven't been to see Leila?'
Charlotte's heart gave a little kick. By the time they had told Miss Strudworth all about the goings on at Thornton Downs they realised there was no time to make it to Salt Flat for the carnival. She desperately wished she could have been able to tell Leila that help was on its way.
'Strudworth will be back tonight. She's promised to head off first thing in the morning to get Leila back.'
It was going to be one of the longest waits of Charlotte's young life but there was nothing she could do about it.
'And what about Todd?'
They turned their horses around at the top of the straight, preparing for a gallop.
'He caught the bus back with me. He was very understanding.'
'Well, I think what you need to take your mind off Leila for a moment is a hard gallop. Ready?'
Charlotte looked down the straight to the white pole in the distance that marked the finish line.
'Ready.'
'On three. One, two ... three.'
The girls drove their mounts off. Mikey was a strong horse, a good galloper, better suited to racing than dressage. Lightning was no slouch. There was nothing between the girls as they passed the halfway mark. But just as they reached maximum speed Charlotte caught sight of a dip in the ground directly ahead.
'Watch it!' She yelled, reefing Mikey to the left. Hannah caught the warning, saw the problem a fraction later and also sought evasive action. It was a good thing she did, because although Lightning stumbled as his left fore-hoof hit the edge of the hole, he did not fall as he would have if he'd landed full in it. They pulled their mounts up. Charlotte jumped off Mikey immediately to join Hannah and make sure Lightning was all right.
'Thanks for the warning. He could have broken a leg.'
Though Hannah had been riding horses most of her life, she had never attended to them when they were sick and deferred to Charlotte as the more experienced 'vet' of the two. She watched anxiously as Charlotte felt around Lightning's leg for any sign of damage.
'Is he okay?'
'I think so, but we had better take it easy.'
'There shouldn't be a hole like that in the middle of the galloping straight.'
'Bevans would never have allowed it,' said Charlotte.
The annoying noise of Chadwick's golf-buggy turned their heads as it advanced towards them like an angry beetle. Charlotte suspected that silly buggy was probably responsible for the problem in the first place. Chadwick pulled up and got out. As always, he was grouchy.
'You girls are supposed to be riding, not talking.'
'There's a dangerous ditch here in the middle of the straight.'
Chadwick glanced over in the most cursory of fashions.
'Doesn't look too dangerous to me.' His beady eyes fell on Charlotte. 'You're the troublemaker, right? Richards. Calling my aunt, upsetting her. You had no right to do that.'
Charlotte held her tongue. Inside though, part of her glowed a little warmer. Obviously Miss Strudworth had given him a good talking to. Chadwick regarded her with simmering animosity.
'Not talking now, eh? On your horses. And no more nonsense.'
While Charlotte was not prepared to eng
age in a slanging match with Chadwick to defend herself, there was no way she could remain silent when the health of the other horses and JOES were at stake. She spoke out, pointing at the hole.
'What about this –'
Chadwick held up a hand.
'Enough. You might think you have turned my aunt against me but, let me warn you, Miss, blood is thicker than water. Now get going before I recommend you are cut from the squad.'
'But there is a dangerous –'
She felt Hannah's hand against her sleeve, warning her to be quiet. Charlotte swallowed hard. Had it not been for the fact that Strudworth was due home that evening, Charlotte would definitely have responded, but little would be gained from taking on Chadwick right now. He wasn't going to repair the straight no matter what she said. She and Hannah remounted and, under Chadwick's intense gaze, trotted towards the ring where other JOES had been practising dressage.
'He is such a pain,' said Hannah when they were out of earshot.
'If he stays around, I don't think the JOES will be much fun.'
'Won't Strudworth fire him?'
Charlotte wasn't sure. Bevans had warned her that it was always tricky getting between relatives. That was why he had decided not to return to work until Miss Strudworth was back, even though she had told him she wanted him back immediately.
As they moved towards the ring, The Evil Three (or more correctly, The Evil Two, Emma and Lucinda) were just leaving, trotting up in preparation to racing down the straight. Rebecca was trotting in their wake. She was still suspected of being responsible for the make-up class debacle and only an incredible amount of sucking up on her part and unlimited use of her iTunes downloads were keeping her in the picture. As much as Charlotte wouldn't mind seeing them take a tumble, she didn't want their horses injured.
'Oh, look,' said Emma as they drew near, 'the circus must be in town. Two clowns on horseback.'
Charlotte forced herself to ignore the taunt. Think of the horses, she told herself.
'You need to be careful coming down the straight. There's a ditch.'
Lucinda put on a fake smile.
'Something for you to sleep in, so you feel really at home.'
Before Charlotte could add anything else they had galloped off, showering Hannah and Charlotte with clods of earth. About twenty seconds later, as the girls were turning into the arena, they heard galloping hooves from behind and then a whinny and a sharp cry. They swivelled on their saddles to see two riderless horses careering down the straight. Two riders were on the ground. Emma, still intact, had continued to the finish. Typical, thought Charlotte. She saw Rebecca struggle to her feet and straighten herself out. Lucinda was sitting up but still on the ground where she had fallen. Rebecca tried to help her to her feet but Lucinda yelped in pain.
'You tried to warn them,' said Hannah.
That was true, Charlotte told herself, but Lucinda could be badly hurt.
'We better see how she is.'
She galloped over to find Lucinda supporting her shoulder and moaning in pain. Charlotte dismounted. Even as she strode towards the girl she was guessing that this was a break, probably the collarbone. She'd seen more than a few of those when the rodeo visited Snake Hills. Rebecca was already dialling on a mobile phone. She listened, puzzled, and shook her head.
'The Emergency Services aren't answering,' she said.
'Use mine,' moaned Lucinda. 'Yours probably can't get reception out here.'
'No, it's very powerful. I was on the phone to the city just a little while ago asking my stylist what she thought I should wear to dinner tonight.'
Had Charlotte not had the dubious pleasure of knowing these girls so well already, she might have thought Rebecca was joking. Who would ring a stylist to ask what to wear to a barbecue?
'Where does it hurt?' Charlotte tried to support Lucinda's shoulder.
'Ow, watch it.'
'Think it's your clavicle,' commented Hannah.
Rebecca shrugged again after another unsuccessful attempt with the phone.
'Nope. Nothing.'
'What number are you dialling?' asked Charlotte.
'911 – duh.'
Charlotte said, 'You've been watching too much TV. 911 is America. Here you dial triple zero.'
Rebecca did not thank her. She mumbled something, dialled and was connected straightaway.
There wasn't much more Charlotte could do for Lucinda.
'I'm afraid you'll just have to hold it till they come,' she said.
'Look on the bright side', said Rebecca, snapping her phone closed. 'Your mum is going to spoil you rotten.'
Chapter 9
Driving down the highway, Caroline Strudworth was distressed. There was no other word for it. Thornton Downs was her life. She devoted every waking moment to thoughts of how it could be improved and, pebble by pebble, leaf by leaf, she had made Thornton Downs the wonderful riding academy it was today. And here, in the twinkling of an eye, that idiot nephew had begun to dismantle it. Selling a horse as some cost-cutting measure was stupid. There were always injuries and illnesses to horses, and backups were needed. Didn't he understand that? It was totally insensitive too. A rider formed a bond with a horse, they became like a trusted friend. Indeed, it had always been Miss Strudworth's philosophy in equestrian eventing that one wasn't just turning out a rider but a horsewoman. A horsewoman without a horse was like a cucumber sandwich without bread. What a shame it was poor Charlotte Richards who had suffered. The poor child had already had a difficult time of it at Thornton Downs. Leila and she were more like girlfriends than rider and horse. Strudworth found Leila a particularly interesting horse. It was almost as if she understood what you said. Personality, that's what that horse had. Not necessarily a personality that Strudworth would have listed as desirable but, nonetheless, one that sparked up the day.
Then there was the matter of Bevans. You just couldn't get quality staff like Bevans. Oh well, soon enough it would be back to normal. She felt slightly guilty about leaving her sister alone after the operation but she was not in any danger. Not like Thornton Downs. She supposed she would have to find a way to keep Chadwick on, but time away in the future for herself would not be possible.
The long drive from the city was drawing to a close. The parched day had given way to evening coolness. At this time of day one had to be careful of kangaroos. Not the smartest of animals, they would often dash into the path of a vehicle at the very last second. Miss Strudworth turned off to Thornton Downs and felt an irrepressible joy as she passed the stone gates. As much as Chadwick had been a trial, he could not destroy the fact that Thornton Downs was her home. But her euphoria evaporated quickly. An ambulance was wending its way down the driveway as she was heading up. There was one brief instant where the bud of hope bloomed in her heart. Could it be that some misfortune had befallen Chadwick? No, it wasn't going to be that. Surprises of a beneficial nature never befell her. It was going to be more trouble.
'Really, Aunty, I don't see what all the fuss is about.'
Charlotte sat in the corner of Miss Strudworth's office as she had been commanded, pleased to see Chadwick put on the spot.
'A broken collarbone! That's what all the fuss is about. Imagine if a horse had been injured.' As she spoke, Miss Strudworth's hand reached out automatically to pat Zucchini. The glass of the cabinet prevented her.
Chadwick's fingers strayed towards the jam shortbread that Miss Strudworth had placed on a plate for Charlotte near the edge of her desk.
'Accidents do happen,' he said.
'With you around, they happen more often.'
In a flash a riding crop appeared in Miss Strudworth's hand and cracked down on Chadwick's fingers.
'Ow. Careful, Aunt, you got me.'
'That was the idea. You were told there was a problem immediately prior to the fall.'
Chadwick's small brown eyes flashed angrily at Charlotte.
'You little snitch.'
Before Charlotte could defend herself, Strudw
orth interjected.
'It wasn't Richards who told me.'
Charlotte guessed Hannah was the source. She had seen her talking to Strudworth not long after she pulled up in the driveway.
'And if it were Richards, I would commend her.'
Chadwick was still looking for somebody else to blame.
'It's the role of the staff to make sure the ground is level.'
'The staff you sacked!'
'Bevans was impertinent.'
'The only one impertinent is you, nephew. Bevans was trying to protect my interests. You sold her horse,' the crop shot out to indicate Charlotte, 'and I want you to apologise right now.'
'You want me to apologise to her?' A look of disbelief played over Chadwick's features. 'No way.'
All Charlotte saw was a blur but she heard a hum as the riding crop swept through the air, followed by a sharp crack as it struck Chadwick's leg.
'Agh! All right, all right.'
He turned towards Charlotte, his bottom lip pushing out like a spoilt child denied an ice-cream. 'Sorry about the nag.'
Charlotte said, 'Her name is Leila.' She surprised herself at how firmly she spoke.
Chadwick looked like he was about to make some smart comment but he must have caught sight of the riding crop being cocked again to deliver pain.
He suddenly seemed mollified.
'Yes. Leila.'
Strudworth pointed the crop at the door and, with a controlled vehemence, addressed her nephew.
'Out. Deal with this fall business. Find the insurance papers and contact the company for claim forms.'
Chadwick went to exit but apparently decided that it would be foolish to offer an unprotected backside to that lethal riding crop so he turned and backed out, bowing as he went.
