‘Come on, Ger,’ Suzanne said. ‘You can help me groom Dancer first so … so I can show you how Brendan likes it done.’
Opening the box they had been sitting on, Suzanne took out her grooming gear. Metal curry comb, rubber curry comb, body brush, dandy brush, white cotton towel, sponge, mane comb, hoof pick. Ger picked up one of the brushes and waved it towards Dancer. At once the horse backed away.
‘Don’t move so suddenly,’ Suzanne advised. ‘If you want to brush him, start slowly. Like this.’
Ger did as she said. Dancer stood still this time and let Ger run the brush down his shoulder.
‘He likes it!’ Ger cried, delighted with himself.
‘Of course he does. Now … no, Ger, don’t ever use the metal curry comb on him. It’s just for cleaning the brushes, like this. If you want to get him clean and make him shine, rub him first with the rubber curry comb, round in circles, good and hard. Then brush the way the hair lies. From the top of his neck down.’
‘He’s big,’ said Ger, stretching.
‘Not really. For a horse he’s little, only fifteen one.’
‘Thought you said he was seven.’ Ger looked puzzled.
‘Fifteen one is his height,’ Suzanne explained. ‘Fifteen hands and one inch. A hand is four inches, and height is measured from the ground to the top of a horse’s withers – that’s this bump here at the base of his neck.’
‘Oh.’ Ger liked the way Suzanne explained things. She didn’t make him feel stupid for not knowing.
He spent the morning learning to groom horses. Once he knew the purpose of each tool, they all made sense. ‘What’s this, Suzanne?’ he asked, holding up a piece of metal with a hook at one end. ‘It looks like a weapon.’
Suzanne giggled. ‘It’s a hoof pick. You use it to clean out the inside of a horse’s hoof. It picks out stones and mud.’
She bent down and tapped Dancer’s fetlock and the horse obediently lifted a hoof to be cleaned.
When it was Ger’s turn to pick out a hoof, he was clumsy at first, half afraid he might be kicked. But Dancer was kind. As the hoof pick dug into the mud packed in the horse’s hoof, it prised loose a small round stone of an unusual shade of red. Ger wiped the mud off the stone and looked at it. Then he put it in his pocket for a lucky piece. A gift from Star Dancer.
Standing on her grooming box, Suzanne plaited Dancer’s mane into a lot of tiny, firmly fastened loops. ‘This is to make him look more elegant,’ she explained. ‘See how the plaits make his neck seem longer?’
‘I thought they were for you to hold on to so you don’t fall off,’ Ger replied. ‘But you probably don’t need to hang on. When you ride you look like you’re glued on.’
‘I do?’ Suzanne was pleased.
‘Yeah. I don’t know why you’re scared of falling off.’
‘I’m not. Most of the time. Just when I think about jumping. As long as I ride on the flat, I’m grand. But if I can’t jump as well as do dressage I can never ride in events, Ger. And I’ve always wanted to ride in events!’ she cried longingly. ‘You don’t know how much!’
Ger felt sorry for her. In spite of his boast, there were things he was afraid of. He wasn’t afraid of getting hurt, he’d done that hundreds of times. He’d fallen out of trees, down stairs, skinned his knees on broken glass, been beaten up by bigger boys. Things like that didn’t frighten him.
But he was scared of things like coming home and finding his mother lying in bed helpless, the way he did sometimes. He was afraid of coming into a cold, dirty flat, with nothing to eat and a mother who was so full of drink she hardly knew him.
That was scary. That was really scary.
The day flew by. Ger was having a great time. He didn’t think about home. He was in a place with reasons for everything and rules that made sense. And Star Dancer.
Soon Star Dancer was nudging Ger with his muzzle, just like he did to Suzanne. And Ger, with a big grin on his face, was rubbing the base of Dancer’s ears just the way the horse liked. Ger seemed to know that without even being told.
Suzanne’s father had given her money to buy sandwiches and milk for lunch, but as she told Ger, ‘Before a class I can’t eat, I get butterflies in my stomach. Do you want to eat my sandwich for me so it doesn’t go to waste?’
Ger nodded eagerly. Suzanne watched as he ate two big sandwiches and drank two cartons of milk as if he hadn’t had anything to eat in days.
Suddenly Suzanne was very glad she’d asked Brendan Walsh to give him a job.
When the time came for Suzanne to start warming up Star Dancer for their dressage test, Ger walked with her to the schooling area. He felt important, like part of a team. He wasn’t just watching any more, waiting to be thrown out. The shine on Dancer’s brown coat was the result of Ger’s brushing, and Suzanne let Ger stand at the horse’s head and keep him still while she mounted.
Ger glanced around at the other riders, with their grooms and friends and families. He wanted them all to see him – him, Ger Casey! – at the RDS, helping with a show horse. A show horse!
Then he saw them. On the other side of the schooling area, Anto and Danny, and Rags too.
They saw him at the same time and began running around the fence towards him.
High above Ger’s head, Suzanne said, ‘I wonder where Dad is? He said he’d be here to watch us.’
‘Ger! Ger!’ Anto shouted. People were turning to stare. A horse shied nervously away from the running, yelling boys.
Ger said a word Suzanne was never allowed to say. She looked down at him. His face was white with anger under his freckles. ‘Are those your friends?’ she asked.
‘Them? I don’t know ‘em.’
But they knew him. Led by Anto, they came right up to the edge of the ring, shoving people, pushing through while others glared at them. ‘Hey Ger!’ Rags cried.
‘Thought you were going to be on a horse! What’re ye doing here, picking pockets?’ He laughed as if that was very funny.
At that moment Suzanne’s father came through the crowd with Anne, the riding instructor. They ignored the yelling boys. Anne called to Suzanne, ‘Right, it’s time for you to start warming up. Begin with large circles now, that’s it, strongly forward and keep his rhythm …’ She slipped between the fence rails and joined Suzanne in the schooling area, leaving Ger with Suzanne’s father, Anto and the other boys.
For the first time Mr O’Gorman looked at Ger, who was holding a brush and white cloth stable-rag in one hand. He looked every inch the groom, though a bit small. ‘Were you helping my daughter?’ Mr O’Gorman asked.
Ger looked up. The man had the same kind eyes as Suzanne. ‘Yes sir.’
‘Sir!’ Anto elbowed Danny, Danny elbowed Rags, and they all sniggered. ‘Sir!’ they mimicked rudely.
Ger turned his back on them. ‘I was grooming Star Dancer for her,’ he told Mr O’Gorman.
‘Were you now?’ Mr O’Gorman’s lips twitched into a smile. ‘That’s good of you, thanks. Well, let’s see how she does.’ He folded his arms, rocked back on his heels, and stood watching Suzanne.
After a moment’s hesitation, Ger folded his arms and stood in just the same way, watching too.
Star Dancer’s brown coat shone. Suzanne, in her breeches and boots, a white shirt and neat black coat and helmet, looked very neat and polished. Everything was perfect, Ger thought with satisfaction. And he had helped.
He forgot about the other boys in the pleasure of the moment.
Then Anto sidled up to him and hissed, ‘Ger, what d’ye think you’re up to? Aren’t you going to introduce us to your posh friend?’
Ger shot him an angry glance. ‘Shut up, will ye. You’ve to be quiet around horses.’
‘What d’you know about horses? I don’t see you on one. You said you was going to be riding, that’s why we’re here.’
‘How did you lot get in here, anyway?’ Ger asked.
‘Over the fence ‘way down at the corner by the bushes. We’d to wait ages ‘til
l no one was looking. But we made it. Now it’d better be worth it. I’m bored with all this standin’ around.’ It sounded like a threat.
Out of the corner of his eye, Mr O’Gorman was watching. If this red-haired lad was a friend of Suzanne’s – fine, but he didn’t like the look of the other lads. Aloud he said to Ger, ‘Come on, we’d better get over to the dressage ring and get a place for ourselves if we’re going to watch her test.’
He began to walk away. Gratefully, Ger fell in beside him, matching strides with the taller man. He was aware that the boys trotted along behind them at first, then fell back.
Ger felt like two people. It was a strange feeling. Part of him wanted to be sauntering along with Anto and the gang, sneering at the snobs and making fun of The Enemy. But the other part of him was enjoying walking with Mr O’Gorman, being part of the world that included Star Dancer. Ger was in that world just for a day, and it would end when he went home. But while it lasted, he could pretend it was his own world, his own place. He could pretend that he had a father too, and a shining horse to ride, and a nice clean home to go to with a hot meal waiting.
He could pretend. He wouldn’t let his gang take that away from him.
They followed, watching. He could feel their eyes on him. And somehow he knew they would spoil it for him if they could, just for the fun of it.
‘Here’s the dressage ring,’ Mr O’Gorman said suddenly.
They stopped to look at it. It wasn’t a ring at all, Ger saw, but a neat rectangle with a smooth grassy surface. There were letters on little boards around the edges, and some people sitting in a sort of booth at the end. A man on a horse was just trotting at an angle, very fast, across the ring, and the people in the booth were watching and nodding and writing something down.
‘Let’s get a seat,’ said Mr O’Gorman. He climbed some steps to a bank of seats, and Ger followed him. He did not pay much attention to where they were. He was trying to keep his eyes on the horse in the dressage ring. It had rounded the corner at the end of the ring and slowed to a walk, then it lifted its front legs and began doing that beautiful slow gallop Star Dancer had done the day before. The one that looked like a rocking chair.
Mr O’Gorman sat down and patted the seat beside him. ‘Here, lad. What’s your name?’ he asked politely.
‘Ah, Ger. Ger, sir.’
‘Well, Ger. Do you like dressage?’
Ger started to tell a story, but he could not think of one, not with his eyes full of the beautiful horse dancing in the ring in front of him. ‘I never saw it before yesterday,’ he said honestly. ‘But I … I do like it.’
‘Like’ did not seem to be strong enough, but he didn’t know what else to say.
‘I’d rather watch showjumping myself,’ Mr O’Gorman said. ‘My wife used to be a showjumper, you know. Suzanne’s mum. She rode at White City and Dublin, all the big shows. She even knew Pat Smythe.’
‘Did she?’ Ger asked. He had never heard of White City or Pat Smythe either. More horse language.
But it could be learned. He could learn it. Already today he had learned how to use a curry comb and a hoof pick and how to put a saddle on a horse.
He settled down happily beside Suzanne’s father to wait for Star Dancer.
5 – Learning the Ropes
‘YOU’RE NEXT,’ ANNE’S VOICE CALLED. ‘Come on, Suzanne.’
Suddenly Suzanne’s mouth went dry. It always did just before a class. She drew a deep breath and made herself pat Dancer’s neck once more, for luck.
‘Here we go,’ she said to him under her breath.
They left the schooling area and followed Anne across the pavement to the main ring where the dressage was being judged. Suzanne was aware of people glancing at her and Dancer as they passed, but she tried not to think about anything but the test to come. Enter the ring, keep Dancer very straight, halt squarely, salute, move forward promptly …
She was allowed a warm-up circle around the outside of the dressage ring before she entered. This was to give horse and rider a chance to look at everything and settle down. Suzanne glanced at the stands as she rode, trying to see her father, but it all seemed to be one white blob of faces.
Then the bell rang and she turned to enter the ring.
‘Now, Dancer,’ she whispered. ‘For me.’
They were all alone, with everyone watching. One girl and one horse. Every step they took would be judged. The slightest mistake would show. A number of adults had already ridden the test, cutting up the grass and leaving a track around the edge of the ring. Some of them, Suzanne knew, were very good and had very expensive horses.
But Dancer was good too. Let’s show them how beautiful you are, Dancer! She thought.
‘Your horse knows what you’re thinking,’ Anne had often said to Suzanne. ‘And if you’re very good, you can read his thoughts, too. To be a first class rider you must put yourself inside your horse’s mind.’
Suzanne tried to do that now. She could tell from the stiffness of Dancer’s pricked ears that he was tense, and that he was looking towards the judge’s box. Was he afraid the people in the box would move suddenly? Suzanne made her hands go softer on the reins, telling Dancer that it was all right, there was nothing to worry about. She felt the tension leave him as they came to a perfect halt in the exact middle of the dressage arena, and she nodded her head to salute the judge.
The judge, a large man with grey hair, gravely returned the salute, but his movement did not startle Dancer, who waited calmly for Suzanne to close her legs against his sides and tell him to go forward.
That was a good halt, Suzanne said to herself. A good start for the test.
She was pleased. Dancer could feel her pleasure in her hands, in her legs, in the way she sat in the saddle. With increasing confidence, he began moving through the familiar pattern of the dressage test that he and Suzanne had practised many times before.
Watching from the stands, Mr O’Gorman said to Ger, ‘Everything in a dressage test has a purpose. You see, what we called dressage began as a way of teaching war horses to be obedient on the battlefield. They had to learn to go forward even in the face of guns. They had to be able to wheel and turn at any moment, to speed up or slow down, and even to take great leaps or move sideways to carry their riders away from danger. When we watch a horse do a dressage test now, we’re seeing the patterns that were used to train those war horses. Suzanne taught me all that,’ he added with a smile.
‘But it looks like dancing,’ Ger replied.
Mr O’Gorman nodded. ‘It does, yes. The horse has to become very agile, like a dancer. And modern dressage horses must look very beautiful in motion, that’s part of it. Suzanne tells me that a dressage horse should look as if he’s doing everything of his own free will, for the joy of it.’
For the joy of it. Yes, thought Ger, his eyes glued to Star Dancer. That is how it looks. The horse was out there in the middle of the ring dancing for the joy of it, and he just happened to be carrying Suzanne along.
Suddenly Ger longed with all his heart to be sitting on Star Dancer himself, dancing for the joy of it.
The test was over.
Suzanne’s heart was beating fast, and she knew there was a smile on her face. ‘We did it, Dancer,’ she whispered to her horse as they halted again for the final salute. They hadn’t made any bad mistakes, though she knew Anne would tell her a lot of things could have been better. Dressage could always be improved. It wasn’t like jumping. When you jumped, you either got over the jump or you didn’t.
I mustn’t think of jumping, she reminded herself. But in that moment her muscles had tightened and Dancer felt her nervousness. He lifted his head and shifted weight, refusing to stand still for the salute.
In his box, the judge frowned and told his secretary to write something down on the scoresheet kept for each rider.
Ger did not know Star Dancer had made a mistake. He only knew that the horse was beautiful. The horse stood for everything that was missing from hi
s own life.
He noticed other grooms going to meet their riders, so he slipped out of his seat and ran down to meet Suzanne as she came out of the dressage ring. ‘That was brilliant!’ he told her.
She shook her head. ‘I made a mistake,’ she said. ‘I ruined the final halt, it was my fault.’
Ger had never heard anyone admit a mistake so easily. He was surprised. When he did something wrong, he never admitted it.
Suzanne slid off her horse. ‘We’ll take him back to the stable now and cool him off,’ she told Ger, ‘and then you can help Mr Walsh for the rest of the day. I know he’ll be glad to have an extra hand this afternoon.’
Ger had almost forgotten about his promise to groom some ponies for Brendan Walsh. For the first time, he wondered what Anto and the others would say.
And where were they?
He looked around. Then he saw them. A uniformed guard had Anto and Rags by the arm, walking them towards the nearest exit. Danny was trotting along behind, arguing, but the guard wasn’t paying any attention. He was frowning sternly and not being too gentle with the boys.
Anto looked at Ger, and yelled. ‘That’s me mate, he sneaked in with us lot! Throw him out too!’
Ger stiffened. People were looking at him. Then he remembered the groom’s badge Brendan Walsh had given him. He held it up so the guard could see it. The man paused for a moment, then nodded and went on, taking the other three to the exit to throw them out for not paying admission.
I can stay, Ger thought with a sense of surprise. I can stay! I belong here!
‘Those were the friends you were telling me about,’ Suzanne said. ‘The ones who wanted to see you on a horse.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Now they won’t get to. But … but if you’d like, you can ride Dancer back to the stable. I’ll lead him, but you can sit in the saddle. If you want to. I can’t pay you for helping me, but I can let you have a ride anyway.’
Ger swallowed hard.
Suzanne had never seen anyone’s face light up the way Ger’s face did. She’d been angry with herself about the mistake she made during the dressage test, but now she felt better. It was great to be able to make someone else happy.
Star Dancer Page 3
