‘OK,’ said Charlie. ‘Leave it with me. We’ll find a way. See you tomorrow.’
As Charlie hung up the phone, she noticed the book on her mother’s bedside table – The History of the Paralympics. Charlie knew Polly couldn’t give up the one thing that had given her hope and ambition.
From her parents’ room, Charlie heard the low roar of an engine. It didn’t sound like a tractor or the lorry that came to collect the milk. She looked out of the bedroom window to see a dark blue sports car pulling up. The driver had blond hair poking out of a blue baseball cap. It took her a couple of seconds to register who it was.
Boris had been woken by the noise and he followed Charlie as she galloped down the stairs.
‘Love that new surface!’ The slender young man swung his legs out, stretching his back as he stood and slammed the door behind him.
‘Joe!’
Charlie flung her arms round the man who had once been their farmhand, and who had originally taught her to ride. When she had mistakenly bid for Noble Warrior and Percy at an auction, it was Joe who had developed a relationship with the reluctant racehorse. It was Joe who had ridden him to win the Derby at Epsom and Joe who had suggested that Polly should try to ride him.
‘So tell me all about working for Seamus O’Reilly. What’s it like?’ Charlie asked excitedly as she ushered Joe into the kitchen. She made him a cup of tea and they sat across from each other at the big wooden table.
‘It’s amazing! They told me it was like a five-star hotel for horses, but that didn’t help, as I’ve never stayed in one! I’ll tell you what, though, if there’s a hotel as nice as Powerscourt Stables, I’ll happily stay there for my next holiday.’
‘What’s so special about it?’ Charlie asked.
‘Jeez, everything. I swear there isn’t a single detail left out.’
Charlie noticed that Joe now had a slight Irish lilt in his voice. He looked more grown up and there was a fire in his eyes, the same energy and excitement she’d seen on Derby Day.
‘Each horse has its own set of tack so that germs can’t be spread from one to another,’ he told her. ‘The stables are so lush. Each box is as big as half this room – they’ve got rubber floors so the horses don’t slip; mangers that flip out through the wall so you can fill their feed without walking into the stable; automatic water bowls; fans hanging from the ceiling to keep the air moving in the summer – did you have that brutal summer heatwave here too? – and a heat lamp to keep them warm in the winter. Even the corners of the stables are rounded and the straw is banked up all round.’ Joe’s eyes were lighting up as he spoke. ‘The three-year-old colts have their own yard and they have special stables with a door at the front and the back. The back door leads out into their very own paddock so they can have a pick of grass in the afternoon if they want.’
‘Their own paddock?’ Charlie was enthralled.
‘Exactly. And the grooms only look after three horses each so they get individual attention from the same person every day. Then there’s a group of us who ride out on a daily basis – there are ex-champion jockeys and current jockeys and the best work-riders you can find. My dad would have been so impressed. I wish he’d lived to see everything that’s happened to me.’
‘He’d have loved it.’ Charlie put her hand across the table to touch Joe’s. ‘The main thing is that you’re trying to make him proud and that means he’s still alive in you. He always will be.’
Joe put his other hand on top of hers and squeezed it.
‘How many horses do you ride?’ Charlie asked.
‘About five or six, so I go almost straight from one to another. Then their groom takes them and walks them for about four miles. Those grooms cover about twelve miles a day, but Mr O’Reilly reckons it’s essential that they keep moving with no weight on their backs.’
‘I’d be good at that bit.’ Charlie patted the top of her thighs. ‘These powerful legs were made for walking!’
Joe took a sip of tea, removed his baseball cap and ran his hand through his hair. Charlie noticed that it was even lighter than usual and his face was bronzed from being outside in the sunshine every morning. ‘It’s like being at a high-tech university of racing. It’s really intense, but I’m loving it.’ He grinned broadly and Charlie felt a surge of happiness on his behalf. ‘Now you’d better bring me up to date on everything that’s happening here on the farm.’
Charlie filled him in on her netball news, including the fact that Polly was going to be their coach, and told him that the boys had finally realized that chickens couldn’t dance, but had daft plans for Noble Warrior to open supermarkets. Finally, she told him about Polly trying to ride again.
‘We spent ages doing it in secret, but my mum knew all along and now Polly’s mum knows, but it’s been a bit hairy. I keep worrying that if she has a fall it will all be my fault.’
‘That’s the risk you both take,’ Joe said. ‘And Mr O’Reilly always says that there’s no reward without a bit of risk. I think it’s brilliant news. I always said she and Noddy would work well together. I was worried that she might lose her nerve completely if she didn’t get back in the saddle soon.’
‘They’re learning dressage together,’ Charlie explained. ‘We found this fantastic teacher who does a lot of work with Riding for the Disabled. She’s quite scary and doesn’t fuss or give any sympathy. She just makes Polly get on with it.’
Joe nodded and took another sip of tea. ‘Can I come and watch?’ he asked. ‘I’d love to see Noddy strutting his stuff. I can imagine him as a dressage horse – he always had wonderful balance so I would think it suits him. How’s Percy, by the way?’
‘Oh, still hungry.’ Charlie grabbed a couple of apples from the bowl in the middle of the kitchen table. ‘I’m trying to keep his snacks healthy. Come on! Let’s go out and see them.’
Charlie and Joe wandered out into the farmyard. Bill Bass was in his overalls, tinkering with the tractor. He straightened up. ‘All right, Joe? Good to see you again!’ He enveloped Joe in a warm hug. ‘We miss you, lad.’ He wiped his hand across his face and left a streak of black grease. ‘So chuffed for you, though. Really thrilled to see what you’re doing and how beautifully you ride. Everyone says what a wonderful horseman you are and I know your father would’ve been so proud.’
Joe bit his lip. Bill was the closest he had to a father since his own had died.
‘Thanks,’ he said quietly and then rapidly changed the subject. ‘That’s a fancy-looking tractor you’ve got there.’ He gestured at the gleaming green machine.
‘You’ve always been a good judge, Joe. It’s thanks to you and Noddy that I could get a new one. I had a look at all those fancy types like Fendt and Lamborghini but it was the good old John Deere that got me in the end.’
Bill went on to describe all the different types of machinery he could attach to the back and the front of the tractor to pick up silage bales, spread manure or pull a wagon loaded with feed.
‘We’ve had to give the cows a special high-protein nut mix as extra feed. Madonna threw a right strop about it and wouldn’t touch them to begin with, but now she’s right as rain. Taylor Swift loves ’em and you know what Princess Anne is like –’
‘Dad, I know you want to tell Joe all about the cows and show him your fabulous tractor, but he wants to see the horses,’ Charlie interrupted. ‘We’ll be here all day if you take him through everything the Green Machine can do.’
Bill chuckled and doffed his cap. ‘Right-o, captain!’ He winked at Joe. ‘She still runs the show!’
He went back to polishing the tractor, which would soon be covered in a whole new layer of muck.
They climbed through the fence and Charlie whistled at Percy and Noble Warrior. Both of them looked up and pricked their ears before trotting over. Percy didn’t bother with the niceties of saying hello – he wanted food. He devoured his apple in two bites and was soon searching for more. Noble Warrior went straight to Joe and sniffed his jacket. He pu
shed his nose closer, then stood back and gave a gentle whinny.
‘He knows it’s you,’ Charlie said as Joe broke the apple into smaller pieces and offered it to his favourite horse.
‘There’s nothing quite like him and there never will be. Not even at Powerscourt is there a single horse as intelligent as Noddy.’ Joe’s admiration for the animal who had changed his life was clear. His face glowed with affection and pride. ‘He looks really well, Charlie. He’s grown and thickened out and you can see his muscles are developing in his upper neck and in his quarters.’
Joe ran his hand along Noble Warrior’s neck and down his shoulder.
‘You’re growing into yourself, aren’t you, fella? There’s a good boy, come on, have a cuddle.’
He took the horse’s head in his arms and held it into his chest, stroking Noble Warrior behind the ears.
‘He’s still an old softie at heart. Ah, I’ve missed you, Noddy, but look at you now!’ He turned to Charlie. ‘It’s as if he’s found an inner strength. You can have all the data in the world, but you can’t measure that. You have to feel it.’
Charlie was pleased that Joe could sense Noble Warrior had changed. She thought so too.
‘Oh, he can still get scared of his own reflection, but he’s learning and I think he’s growing up. I was worried he was getting fat and lazy so the boys built that –’ she pointed at the dressage arena in the corner of the field – ‘and we got to work. Polly drew up the training schedule for him and he’s had to get more flexible and use his muscles in a different way. It’s like training an athlete to be a gymnast! The same applies to Polly – it’s been brilliant watching her grow in confidence.’
She picked a lump of mud from Percy’s mane.
‘If you can get away from the racecourse in time, we’ve got another lesson on Wednesday. You can come and see for yourself.’
‘I might just be able to get there if I haven’t got a ride in the last. I’ll do my best,’ Joe replied.
‘I won’t tell Polly, just in case you don’t make it. She’s got enough to worry about, what with her mother finding out about the riding!’
Charlie ruffled Percy’s forelock and turned back towards the house.
‘You’d better come and say hello to my brainless brothers,’ she said. ‘They’ve been busy most of the day trying to make the pigs do an agility course. They’re very proud of themselves and they’ll be furious with me if you don’t see it.’
As they walked, Joe started thinking out loud.
‘Charlie, did you know there are special classes for ex-racehorses at loads of events? They’re related to a charity called “Retraining of Racehorses”. Might be an option?’
Charlie dug Joe in the ribs. ‘It’s lucky you’re here, Mr Butler. Good idea.’
They rounded the corner of the pigs’ field to see Harry dragging poor Elvis over a row of small jumps.
‘Come on, Elvis, hup!’
Larry was leading the way in an effort to encourage the pig to copy him.
‘It’s like this, Elvis!’ he cried as he ran and leaped over some pallets that were piled up to a height of about two feet.
Larry wasn’t looking where he was going because he was too busy calling over his shoulder to a pig that quite sensibly refused to budge. His foot caught in a gap at the top of the pallet and he came crashing down, face first, into a warm, sticky, brown puddle. He lay there as if winded and then slowly pushed himself up with his arms. He was covered from head to toe in sludge.
Joe and Charlie burst out laughing.
Harry dashed over to help his brother and Elvis took the opportunity to run as fast as he could in the opposite direction, squealing as he went.
CHAPTER 12
Tuesday’s netball practice arrived before Charlie had really thought about it. Her knee was still a bit tender, but it was a lot better. Her mother had insisted she rub arnica cream into it every night and that seemed to have helped.
She and Polly walked to the sports hall together, but Charlie hesitated at the door. ‘I don’t know that I can do this,’ she said.
‘Remember what you said to me when you were trying to talk me into riding again and I thought it was impossible?’ Polly asked.
Charlie shook her head. She didn’t remember.
‘You said that I may have to do it differently, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be done. So just do it differently. Come on.’
Polly moved towards the door and pushed it open with her shoulder, leading Charlie into the hall.
The first-team players were already doing their warm-up exercises, leaning from side to side and jumping up and down on the spot. Flora Walsh and Helen Danson were helping each other. Flora was lying on the ground with one leg in the air while Helen stretched it back for her. All of the other players had paired up, but Charlie noticed Nadia was on her own. She was lying on her side with one leg bent over the other, pushing her knee with the opposite hand. It looked painful.
‘Now’s your chance,’ said Polly, giving Charlie a gentle push in the back. ‘Act confident, even if you don’t feel it, and move towards the problem!’
Charlie took a deep breath. The one girl on the team who had been obstructive and downright hostile was Nadia. The one girl who wouldn’t include her or Polly was Nadia. Charlie thought she was like a horse that would try to bite or kick you whenever you came close. A bit like Noble Warrior when she first saw him at the sales when he was battering down the stable door and no one could control him. As she was thinking these things, she found she had walked right up to Nadia.
‘Hey there,’ Charlie said nonchalantly. ‘Wanna hand?’
Nadia rolled on to her back, and without waiting for a reply Charlie grabbed Nadia’s left ankle and helped her gently push her leg straight up into the air and then flex it back towards her body. Nadia said nothing for twenty seconds. Then she grunted, ‘Other leg.’
Charlie lowered Nadia’s left leg gently and raised the right one. She repeated the exercise.
‘You now,’ Nadia said, rolling herself on to her side and then standing up.
Charlie lay down and raised her leg. She suddenly feared that Nadia might bend her leg so far that she would rupture a muscle. She tensed her whole body.
‘Relax,’ said Nadia as she gently rotated the ankle and then pushed the leg into an upright position.
‘Your left leg is stiffer than your right,’ said Nadia as she finished the exercise. ‘You might want to work on that.’
Charlie didn’t know quite how it had happened, but she felt as if they had passed through a door into another room. During catching practice, she found herself doing drills with Nadia – who didn’t try to obstruct her – and when they got into a practice match, they were on the same side. Every time Nadia got the ball, she passed it to Charlie. They worked together to defend their zone and when Charlie flicked back a pass that was too long for her, Nadia was right there to catch the rebounding ball.
‘Excellent work, girls!’ said Mrs Kennedy as the practice match finished. ‘Especially Nadia and Charlie in defence. You really work well together and I’m impressed with your reading of each other’s games. You seem to know when to turn defence into attack or the other way round. Well done, both of you.’
Charlie smiled at Nadia, who nodded her head in return.
‘Well, that was a revelation,’ Charlie said to Polly as she sat down on the bench beside her.
‘I saw,’ replied Polly. ‘I’ve filed it under Communication.’
‘But we didn’t really speak,’ said Charlie.
‘I know. You don’t have to. Some of the best communication is done without words.’
‘Hey, you!’ Flora Walsh bounced over, her face flushed with exertion. ‘What did you think?’ She sat down next to Polly and looked at her notebook. ‘I’m ready for a full debrief.’
Flora listened as Polly spent the next ten minutes going through the various strengths and weaknesses of the team, pointing out moments when there was
confusion on the court or when a player didn’t move into the space that had been created.
‘I can film the next session, if you like,’ Polly suggested. ‘That way we can analyse things properly.’
‘Sounds great,’ said Flora. ‘We’ve never been this professional! I mean, we’ve always taken it seriously and trained hard and all that, but we’ve never properly thought about it.’
‘That’s what I’m here for,’ said Polly. ‘I’ve also drawn up some nutrition tips for everyone – have a look.’
She handed Flora a folder in which was a sheet of paper for each player, detailing the foods that would help them play for longer without getting tired.
‘That is so cool,’ said Flora. ‘I really appreciate this, Polly. Honestly. I’d never realized how much we needed this kind of help. I’d love to have you officially in the team – that’s if you want to be?’
Polly didn’t hesitate.
‘Of course I do!’ she said.
The next day, Charlie and Polly’s attention turned back to horses. They hatched a plan to get to the lesson with Miss Cameron early. Then they could already be in the arena, ready and warmed-up, so that Noble Warrior was relaxed and wouldn’t spook at himself in the mirror. Charlie wanted it to be perfect, in case Joe came to watch.
‘Joe says there are special classes for retired racehorses,’ Charlie told Polly. ‘They’re sponsored by that charity, “Retraining of Racehorses”. We could enter you in one of those and see whether Noble Warrior can cope.’
‘Do you think we’re up to it?’ Polly asked.
‘Well, there’s only one way to find out. Let’s give it a go and, if it doesn’t work out, at least we know we tried.’
‘I’ve left the saddle over there!’ Miss Cameron called out, pointing to her right. ‘Polly, make sure you join in with the tacking up. It’s important that the riders take part in every aspect of the job. Grooming, mucking out, cleaning tack – riding isn’t just about climbing on board and galloping off into the distance.’
The Racehorse Who Learned to Dance Page 9
