Charlie Franks is A-OK

by Cecily Anne Paterson

  Cecily Paterson

  Charlie Franks is A-OK

  A Coco and Charlie Franks Novel

  First published by Cecily Paterson in 2016

  Copyright © Cecily Paterson, 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Cecily Paterson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  Cecily Paterson has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

  First edition

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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  Contents

  Author's Note

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Also in the Coco and Charlie Franks Series

  Acknowledgements

  'Charlie Franks Is A-OK' is in paperback

  About the Author

  More books by Cecily Anne Paterson

  A request from the author... leave a review?

  For Abby, who loves horses just about as much as Charlie Franks does.

  Author's Note

  This book is set in Australia and uses Aussie words, expressions and spelling. We say ‘mum’ to rhyme with ‘thumb’. Year 9 is the same as Ninth Grade and High School begins in Year 7 and goes all the way through to Year 12. We do maths, not math, and we spell analyse (and a bunch of other words) with an ‘s’, not a ‘z’. In fact, lots of our spelling is just slightly different, so don’t get worried if it’s not what you’re used to. Also, just so you know, Aussies love nicknames.

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  1

  Chapter 1

  The best thing in my whole entire life happened on my fourteenth birthday.

  One minute, I was ripping open a box with purple wrapping paper, tearing off the bow and getting through the sticky tape to find a shiny, brand new saddle, still with its from-the-shop smell. The next minute, I was looking out the door of our farmhouse to see the most beautiful sight in the world.

  It was a horse. And not just any horse. It was Fozzles, my favourite horse in the world. She was all washed and brushed and braided, and walking next to Cupcake, my twin sister Coco’s favourite horse. Both of them had gold ribbons around their necks, and were being led up the paddock by Ness, our neighbour, and her kids Tessa and James.

  ‘Are you …?’ I swung around to Mum. I meant to say ‘Are you serious?’ but the words wouldn’t come out. I’d learned to ride on Fozzles last year after our family moved here to Budgong from the city, and I’d hardly spent an afternoon off her since then. My greatest dream had always been to have my own horse, and now it was coming true, but all I could do was look at Mum and Dad, kind of frozen, in a good way, until my eyes started hurting. I’d obviously forgotten to blink.

  Mum laughed. ‘Yes, Charlie. She’s yours.’

  ‘And Cupcake is for you,’ Dad added to Coco, my twin sister, but I wasn’t listening anymore. Instead, I was running, no, flying out the door, jumping the steps and pelting down the paddock towards Fozzles with a smile which felt like it couldn’t get any wider.

  I slowed down as I got closer to Ness. She and Mum met soon after we moved here, at the Budgong Community Group. They hit it off and kind of went into a riding business together, with help from her kids, Tessa and James, and us, of course. Whenever we help her out with the rides we organise around the property and out on the bush tracks, she’s always saying, ‘Don’t go crazy around horses. They react.’

  My feet went back to walking pace but I was still kind of bouncing.

  ‘Happy birthday,’ Ness said, as Tessa and James kept going, up to the house. Ness looked amused, like there was something funny about me.

  I grinned back. ‘Only like the happiest birthday ever. Are you sure I can have her?’

  ‘I needed to sell some horses,’ she said. ‘And you love Fozzles so much. It would have been wrong to keep her.’

  Ness handed me Fozzles’ lead rope and kept on going towards the house. I stopped for a moment, hugged the horse around her neck and smelled her mane.

  ‘This is the best day of my life.’ I whispered it in her ear and patted her on the nose. ‘Seriously. The best.’

  Behind me, Coco had gotten to Cupcake, squealing and fussing before Ness shushed her. ‘Settle, petal,’ she said, but I could hear that she said it with a smile. I turned around to see Coco hug Cupcake. Then she squealed all over again as Mum, Dad, Josh our older brother, Tessa and James (now the new love of Coco’s life) spilled out the back door and onto the grass. They all laughed and smiled and congratulated themselves.

  ‘You didn’t suspect anything?’ Josh called to me. ‘That just proves our secret-keeping powers.’

  ‘Proves nothing,’ I yelled back. ‘Except that if you were in on this, it’s a total miracle we didn’t find out.’

  ‘I knew,’ said Coco, looking smug.

  ‘You did not.’ I gave her a grin. ‘You’re like me. You knew nothing.’

  ‘You’re right.’ She did a fake pout and made a face at James, who gave her the big, droopy, adoring eyes he’d had on for two months now, ever since she’d run away at midnight, had fallen off her horse, had been rescued by James, had puked on his lap and then had started going out with him.

  ‘He seriously should have told me. He’s in big trouble for that.’

  She walked quicker, pulling Cupcake after her, heading towards James. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. That’s like, so mean.’

  I watched her grin and smile and act all ridiculously flirty with him until the others had reached them, and then there was so much laughing and chatting and, ‘Can you believe it?’ and, ‘Were you really surprised?’ that I stopped still and looked at Fozzles.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ I said.

  It took me four and a half minutes to tie her to the fence, run back up to the house, grab the new saddle and the rest of the tack and put it on her, and then find a helmet and buckle it under my chin.

  I pulled Mum out of the circle of happy people. ‘I’m going for a ride,’ I said.

  She looked at me, boots on my feet and helmet on my head. ‘Already?’

  ‘Totally. No time to waste.’

  She smiled. ‘There
’s never any stopping you.’

  I shrugged and went over to Fozzles, who was waiting patiently at the fence. I put my foot in the stirrup, ready to swing up, but then thought better of it. I pulled it out and ran back to Mum and hugged her. ‘Thanks Mum. Thanks so much. And tell Dad thanks too. Apart from moving here,’ I gestured around at the farm, ‘this is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.’

  She held me close for a second or two. ‘I love you, Charlie. You’re my best oldest daughter.’

  I laughed. I was only older than Coco by one minute and forty-six seconds, but believe me, I’d used every single one of those seconds as leverage throughout my life. ‘That’s because I’m the only one.’

  ‘Yes, but you know you’re special. And I’ll always be here for you. You know that, right?’ She looked down, into my face. She was still just a bit taller than me, but hopefully not for too long.

  ‘I know, Mum. Because everything’s A-OK, right?’ I made a silly face at her and used the phrase she always used to say to me when I was little before she tucked me into bed.

  ‘A-OK,’ she said back, also in a silly voice, and made an ‘okay’ sign with her fingers. Round thumb and first finger, and three happy fingers sticking up.

  ‘And now I’m going. Fozzles and I need to run.’

  I swung onto my, my! horse’s back and adjusted the reins. ‘Trot,’ I said, and Fozzles took off into an easy lope down the hill and out through the gate.

  ‘Bye.’ Coco’s voice reached me on the breeze, but I didn’t yell back. She was with James, and anyway, the wind was rushing past my face, and my hands and heart were filled with birthday sunshine and horse love. All I wanted to do was to run and ride, leap and gallop.

  We cantered out along the sandy track first and then, as I could feel Fozzles getting tired, slowed down to a gentle walk through the bush and up the rocky path that led to the top of the plateau, out on the south end of the farm. I patted her and talked to her as we went, and from the way she was so willing to do everything I asked, I knew she knew she belonged to me now.

  ‘You’re my birthday horse.’ I leaned down and whispered it in her ear. ‘You’re what I’ve been dreaming of ever since I was four and a half.’

  It was true. I’d first discovered horses when I was tiny. It was Mum’s fault. She’d taken the three of us to the library near our house in Sydney’s eastern suburbs, which was where we lived then, all buildings and cars and traffic lights with crossings — so different from Budgong’s green paddocks and bush views. I remember it was a hot day outside and my nose was wet enough with sweat that I had to keep wiping it off on the back of my hand. The library, with its noisy air-conditioning and cool breezes shooting out of the ceiling, made us feel like we could breathe again.

  Mum led us over to the children’s section. ‘Okay kids, go find something to borrow.’

  Josh went off, probably to find his favourite Power Rangers DVDs on the shelf, Coco was entranced with some kind of princess book and I wandered amongst the flower shaped chairs and the elephant tables until Mum called me over.

  ‘Charlie, come and look at this.’ She stood next to a clanky red shelf with lots of books on it, all stacked up together, but there was something in her hand. ‘Sit with me.’

  We squashed into a grey armchair together in the corner and she opened the book flat on her lap.

  When I saw what was on the page, my mouth dropped open, and my world changed forever. It was like the pictures of the horses and ponies were alive on the paper. They seemed actually real to me, like they were walking and breathing and making noises. I could almost smell them.

  ‘I had a horse just like this once.’ Mum pointed to a picture of one with gold hair and the longest white mane I’d ever seen, apart from on a My Little Pony toy. It had long, pricked up ears and eyes that asked me to pat it.

  ‘Just like that?’ I breathed.

  ‘Just like,’ said Mum. ‘It’s a Palomino.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It’s the colour. That gold colour is palomino. There are also chestnut horses. And black ones that are actually brown. And piebalds.’

  ‘Do they eat pies?’

  ‘No, silly.’ She laughed at me and turned the page. ‘They’re kind of spotty. Like that one.’

  I gazed at it, and then I jumped up and ran across to show Coco. ‘Look.’ I dragged her face towards the picture. ‘It’s a piebulb.’

  Behind me, Mum laughed. ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’

  Coco looked at the horse and then back at me, but blankly, like she had no idea what on earth I was talking about. She picked up her princess book again. ‘I’m reading.’

  That was the start. I insisted Mum borrow every horse book on the shelf that same day and spent the next fortnight memorising every picture and practicing the word ‘piebald’.

  ‘Mum, what’s this again?’ I asked twenty times a day. I needed to know what a bridle was and what a headstall was, and why that horse had its tail braided but the other one didn’t. Dad complained about reading the same horse book to me every night and Coco got mad when I wanted to change all our puppy and kitten games into pony games.

  As I got older and learned to read on my own I turned to horse novels. Then it became horse documentaries, horse bed linen and wearing jodhpurs whenever I wasn’t either in school uniform or my swimming togs.

  I asked for riding lessons when I was nine and was led around Centennial Park on a huge grey mare for an afternoon. I asked for more when I was ten and they sent me off to a place overlooking the sea for three hours on a weekend. I begged and begged for more lessons and more stable time and of course, my very own horse, and Dad rolled his eyes at Mum and said, ‘See what you’ve started?’

  ‘She would have discovered them anyway.’ Her face was pinched. ‘I don’t see why we couldn’t—’

  ‘Who’s got the time?’ he said, his mouth all stiff and his voice tense like it got when he was angry and we three kids knew we should stop asking questions.

  Mum breathed in heavily. ‘It’s always time that seems to be the issue.’

  I clenched my thumbs inside my fists under the table when I heard her voice change. It’s my nervous habit when I feel scared.

  ‘Maybe if you came home earlier,’ said Mum. ‘From work, I mean.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ said Dad. ‘We all know what you mean.’

  I looked over at Coco. She always went sulky in these arguments. Josh looked angry, but me, I just wanted to cry, mostly for Mum. It was always about the same thing: Dad working too much, and us never seeing him, and when were they ever going to do what they’d been talking about for so many years, and move? They always got over it, of course. I mean, eventually, once they’d yelled and Mum had cried and a few doors were slammed. But for a while I stopped asking for riding lessons. It made everything too tense.

  What I didn’t give up was dreaming of having my own horse. Even before Dad finally had enough of city life and being a banker, and bought the farm and we built our own house out of mud; even before all that crazy, amazing stuff happened, I still held out hope that one day I’d have a horse.

  ‘You’re the one, Fozzles.’ I laughed out loud. No one was around. It was just me, the flat clearing and my horse. My very own horse.

  ‘Gallop!’

  I leant down over her neck and she took off. I stayed on, laughing and whooping and going crazy with joy.

  When we reached the lookout I pulled her back. ‘Whoa.’

  She came to a stop and we waited for a while, looking back over the farm and Ness’s place, with the river in the distance.

  ‘You’re the best horse ever.’ She flicked her tail and caught my leg. ‘And we’re going to do something totally awesome together.

  2

  Chapter 2

  The day after my birthday, I knew exactly what awesome thing Fozzles and I were going to do.

  Mum sent me down to Ness’s place to pick up a couple of things for the hors
es. ‘She just rang,’ she said. ‘She forgot to bring up some brushes and one of the saddle blankets.’

  ‘Can I ride?’

  She shrugged. ‘Of course.’

  The ride to Ness’s place takes about fifteen minutes. We’ve done it practically every day since we first met Tessa and James and started riding in the afternoons with them. It’s mostly over paddocks, but there’s one bit I love when it’s hot, and that’s where we have to go through the stream, which is ankle deep.

  When Coco and I walk over, we always take our shoes off and go through barefoot, although you’ve got to watch out for leeches. Once Coco got a leech on her ankle. The whole valley would have heard her screaming and me laughing. I always laugh at Coco when we cross on horseback because Fozzles is really cool about getting her feet wet and will go right in with no hassles, but Cupcake, Coco’s horse, is difficult. Sometimes she’ll do it, but most of the time Coco has to get off and lead her across.

  ‘Good girl, Fozzles,’ I said as she clip-clopped on through the water, splashing my legs a little bit. I reached down to pat her neck. ‘You’re amazing.’

  When we got to Ness’s place, I found her and Tessa in the round yard, with Tessa on her horse, Prince, who was all tacked up.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I slid off and tethered Fozzles to the fence. ‘Practicing for something?’

  ‘Tessa wanted to start practicing for the show this year.’ Ness gestured to the middle of the ring where there were some red and white horse jumps made out of poles and rails set up. ‘Jumping.’

  ‘Oh.’ I climbed up onto the fence and settled in to watch. ‘Does she do it every year?’

  ‘Mostly. Since she was about ten.’ She watched as Tessa swung Prince around and came in to the rail at a canter. She swerved at the last minute and avoided the jump. ‘The lead up was good,’ she yelled to Tessa. ‘Now you have to jump.’

  I wiped the sweat off my nose. ‘Why didn’t she?’