Charlie Franks is A-OK

by Cecily Anne Paterson

  My stomach fell for a second. Jake Smith.

  I let out a breath. Here? Again?

  No. It’s okay. I took hold of my own hand and breathed in. Jake Smith was there, it was true, and things might be the same as last time. But I was different. Jake Smith wasn’t going to make me fall off my horse again. I was here with Fizz and Mum, riding for Fizz and Mum.

  ‘And for myself too.’ I whispered it aloud, my words tumbling into the breeze.

  I felt a squeeze on my shoulder. It was Mum, holding Faith up to my face. Her eyes were open; in the sunshine they were a vivid shade of blue.

  ‘Faith says you can win,’ said Mum.

  ‘I don’t care about winning,’ I said. ‘I really don’t. But I’ll do my very, very best for her.’

  26

  Chapter 26

  Cupcake was awesome. She really was. Somehow, a terrible, storming afternoon and a walk across a flooded creek had bonded us. All week, I’d noticed it at training. We were a team; together, not two separate personalities. It wasn’t a case of a girl trying to ride her sister’s horse anymore. Cupcake was on my side, and I was on her side.

  The events looked fierce. ‘So many competitors,’ I said to Mum. There were horses everywhere, and riders who looked like they’d been glued to their saddles since the age of two and a half.

  ‘Yes, but they aren’t all your age, and they aren’t all doing show jumping.’ She shifted Faith so that her little face was peeking out over Mum’s shoulder.

  ‘That’s true.’ I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. ‘They’re calling my section. I’d better go.’ I sprang up and adjusted my jodhpurs. ‘Watch me, okay?’

  We walked the course first, as usual. It gave me a chance to plan out how I would time the jumps, and to see where Cupcake would be strongest, so as to gain more time. I talked with Ness about corners, directions and pacing out the jump and then got the shivers, hoping I’d be able to remember it all and take the right line at the right time. The jumps themselves were doable, of course. I’d cleared those heights before, and I felt confident.

  Baylor looked confident too. She was looking away from me and not walking near me at all. Maybe it was coincidence, but I had a feeling it was on purpose. I didn’t mind. Instead, I looked for a chance to smile at her and wish her well. It never came. I shrugged to myself. It didn’t matter.

  Then it began. The first riders went through, then the next ones.

  ‘Everyone with a clear round gets to go into the jump-offs,’ I explained to Mum after my turn.

  ‘Was yours a clear round? I still don’t know all the rules.’

  ‘Yeah. It’s like high jump. If the rail stays on, you’re still in.’

  There were ten of us in the jump-offs. The first rider went through the course, confident until the fourth jump and then shaken, when her horse refused, and then clipped its hoof on the pole.

  ‘That was close,’ whispered one of the girls standing next to me, watching.

  ‘Yeah, but it made her slower,’ said another. They were twitching with nerves, eyes big and fearful. I thought of Fizz and turned my head around to find her and Mum across the other side of the arena. They saw me and Mum waved, and I felt better again.

  Six riders came back with clear rounds and average times. Two had their horses refuse a jump at first, but one was a lot faster than the other. Two boy riders knocked a rail each, both on the fourth jump. There was something there that was upsetting the horses.

  I could see Baylor, in the line behind me, breathing firmly and clenching her fingers in and out, then wiping them on her white jodhpurs. Hers looked new, and her shirt as well. She looked good. I stole a quick glance down at myself and smiled. I looked good too. Coco was a legend. Maybe next time she asked to borrow some money I’d lend it to her.

  Then it was my turn; the third last rider to take the arena. As they called my name, I breathed in deeply.

  ‘It’s for Faith.’ I felt as strong and confident as I had ever been. Cupcake and I swung out together, rounding the first corner and controlling it up to the first jump. It was a clean take-off, lots of air, and a perfect landing. ‘Good job.’

  I focused on the second. ‘Next one, now.’ The second jump was perfect, and the third, but at the fourth, Cupcake shied a little.

  ‘It’s okay. You can do this. With me. Together.’ I urged her on, and she broke into a run and then a take-off, and whoosh, we were over again. No poles on the ground. No time penalties. ‘Awesome!’ We rounded the next corner, and the next one after that, and then we were on the approach to the last jump. ‘This is it. Nice and clean. Straight over and up.’ I squeezed her forward and she took us high, with every bit of spring she had. ‘Good girl, Cupcake. Good girl.’

  It was a clear round, and my time was good: 64.5. The fastest of anyone so far.

  I saw Mum walking up quickly, with Faith in her arms. She stood behind the fence and called me over. ‘You didn’t hit any of them.’

  ‘I know.’ I swung my leg over Cupcake and let myself down to the ground. ‘Did Faith watch?’ Little Fizz was asleep, her eyes closed, and her mouth partly open, like a tiny flower.

  ‘She’s been asleep the whole time, but I watched.’ She grinned at me. You did great, as far as I could see. Nothing knocked over. Does it mean you’ve won?’

  I looked out into the arena. The second last rider, a boy, was rounding the fifth jump. We watched him take the approach, and then stop, his horse refusing.

  ‘Not yet. Maybe. It depends on what the last rider does.’

  ‘Who’s the last rider?’ Mum squinted in the sun, trying to see. ‘That one there? She’s got a beautiful horse.’

  Mum pointed at the big black gelding, on which the last rider of the section was sitting, waiting to go out.

  Baylor.

  ‘Yes, she’s the last one.’ I swallowed. Suddenly I didn’t feel so confident any more. ‘She won it last year.’

  Mum squeezed my hand. ‘You’ve done so well, sweetheart. And it’s not over yet.’

  She turned with me to watch Baylor canter out into the arena. The starter horn went and she took the first corner and the first jump flawlessly. The second was the same, and the third was perfect too.

  ‘Now for the fourth,’ I murmured, but Baylor didn’t even pause. She urged her horse forward and he took the jump like he’d been born flying.

  ‘Wow. Cupcake didn’t like that one.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ said Mum. ‘Just wait.’

  Baylor’s round was almost as perfect as it could be. She took the three next obstacles without even blinking, and then it was up to the last jump. She rounded the corner, cantered up to the jump, and flew over it with inches to spare.

  I let out the air that had been collecting in my lungs in one big breath. ‘That’s it. No penalties.’

  ‘We just have to wait for them to announce the times,’ said Mum.

  ‘It’ll come up on that screen. Just wait for it.’

  It came up.

  It was quicker than me.

  It was 63.9.

  Baylor had won. There was a smile on her face so big it looked like someone might fall into it if they got too close.

  Baylor would be the one to go through to State. Baylor would be the one to have a chance at Nationals. Baylor would be the one who could boast all year about winning the Schools event.

  And I was perfectly okay with that.

  The realisation took over my body in a quiet rush of gladness. I smiled, and almost stood on tiptoes as the ‘okayness’ of it all burst up from my toes to my head, all in a gush.

  ‘You alright?’ said Mum. She patted Faith, who was stirring. ‘So close—’

  I shrugged my shoulders. ‘I’m fine. I really am. I’m not just saying it.’

  The officials announced the results and the times, and our section lined up for ribbons and congratulations. They gave out a yellow ribbon for fourth, and then a white one for third, and then moved on to second.

  ‘A
very close runner-up today,’ intoned the announcer. ‘With a clear round, and very good time. Charlie Franks and Cupcake.’

  I walked forward with Cupcake and a lady with jodhpurs and a wide hat placed a red ribbon around Cupcake’s neck. Cupcake made a snorting noise but I put my hand on her neck and reassured her. ‘It’s okay.’ She quietened down.

  ‘And of course, we have our champion,’ went on the announcer. ‘Retaining her title from last year, and with a clear round and flawless progress, Baylor Tharion and Napoleon.’

  Baylor moved out to receive her ribbon and I clapped hard, almost disturbing Cupcake’s peace of mind. She shifted away from me slightly, to avoid the noise.

  From in front of me, Baylor looked around and caught my eye. She looked wary, as if she might be worried about my reaction, so I quickly smiled—a big, broad, genuine smile—and gave her a thumbs up. ‘Good job,’ I mouthed to her, and her face went from wary to confused, and looked away quickly.

  When she came back to the gate, I pushed through the crush of people and horses.

  ‘Baylor. Hey.’ I stuck out my hand. ‘Congratulations. You did a really great job.’

  She shook my hand, not that she had much choice, but she didn’t grip it tightly, and her face still looked a bit wary.

  ‘Cupcake stalled on jump four,’ I said. ‘Napoleon was perfect. He just went straight around. It was really cool to watch. You did a great job.’

  ‘Oh. Um, thanks.’ She gave me a look like she was expecting me to suddenly jump out at her and say, ‘Oh ha ha, only kidding, I actually hate you’ but when I didn’t do it, she let out a tiny, curious smile. ‘That’s really nice of you.’

  I winked at her and grinned. ‘I’ll get you next year. I’ve got all year to train.’

  She seemed shocked, but then she grinned back. And it was a real grin. A proper, twinkle-in-your-eye type grin. ‘Whatever you do, I’ll do twice over.’

  ‘Deal?’

  ‘Deal.’

  My heart felt warm.

  Tessa placed fourth in her section, and Ness was full of equal parts praise, criticism and comfort. ‘You did great,’ she said, followed by, ‘You’ve got to practice riding more softly. Not as much pull on the mouth,’ and, ‘There’s always next year.’

  ‘Want to get a drink, Tessa?’ I asked. She looked like she needed to escape from her mum.

  ‘Totally.’

  ‘We’ll go up to the canteen. I saw some people with milkshakes.’

  Tessa’s eyes popped out of her head. ‘Chocolate? Lead the way.’

  We left Mum, Faith and Ness with the horses and headed up to the concrete concourse at the top of the arena, where kids in jodhpurs, jackets and helmets, and their parents and coaches were milling; some looking out at the events, some with smiles, and some in tears.

  There was a sudden pull at my arm.

  ‘Charlie!’ Tessa’s voice was urgent. ‘Ahead of us.’

  ‘What?’ But she could hardly answer. Instead, she just half-pointed, half-indicated with her chin to a person in a hat, queued up for the canteen, about three people in front.

  My heart dropped into my stomach.

  Jake Smith.

  Jake Smith getting a milkshake.

  Jake Smith!

  I let out a whistly breath, fished up my heart and blue-tacked it back into its normal spot. One day Faith might meet Jake Smith, I thought. That would be cool.

  I shrugged at Tessa. ‘It’s okay. We’ll see what happens.’

  We stood, three people behind Jake Smith, and waited for the canteen workers to serve all the customers. There were two of them, harried and hustling, grabbing pies and lollies and drinks, and filling orders for milkshakes.

  Jake’s order was obviously a big one; he had two milkshakes on the counter in front of him and another one in the mixer to the side, and he looked like he was still deliberating about what flavour of chips he wanted. One canteen worker was looking after him, while the other was serving the kids in front of us, who just wanted lollies. They scrabbled their loot into their hands and left. The other canteen worker gave us an eyebrow. ‘Can I help you?’

  Tessa could hardly move, let alone speak, so I ordered for both of us. ‘Hi. Can I get a chocolate milkshake and a caramel one with malt, please?’

  I’m standing next to Jake Smith. We’re both ordering milkshakes.

  I kept it together.

  He looked over at me. Then he looked again. ‘Malt?’

  I looked back.

  Jake Smith is talking to me.

  ‘Always malt.’

  ‘Would you have malt with strawberry?’

  ‘Always malt.’ I grinned. ‘Malt wins. Malt is the boss. Malt is where it’s at.’

  He nodded. ‘Okay, then.’ He gave me a look out of thinned eyes. ‘I recognise you. Aren’t you the girl who fell off her horse at the show, like three weeks ago?’

  The blu-tack on my heart started to slip, so I gave it a firm push and took a deep breath. ‘Yep. That’s me.’

  His eyebrow went up. ‘Back on the horse?’

  My eyebrow matched his. ‘We sorted out our differences.’

  He nodded again. Slowly. Like he was impressed. ‘Okay.’ The canteen woman put the third milkshake in front of him and stood, waiting for payment, like she was impatient. He pulled out his wallet. ‘And, I think, a packet of salt and vinegar chips, thanks.’

  She made a teeny tiny sniffing sound, found the chips and put them down on the counter. Jake gave her a fifty, and she took it to the cash register to find change.

  He turned to me and held out his hand. ‘I’ve seen you round. I’m Jake Smith.’

  I know, I thought. Believe me, I know. But I didn’t say it. I just thought of Faith and was super cool.

  ‘This is Tessa.’ I moved aside and pointed to my friend, still silent like she thought she might fall into the ground if she moved or spoke. ‘And I’m Charlie Franks.’ I met his hand and shook it, and electric buzzers went off in my brain, while I pretended that I was perfectly okay.

  ‘Cool.’ He held my hand while we shook, and kept it for just a second longer than he needed to. Then he nodded again, and scooped up his chips and milkshakes carefully in both hands. ‘I guess I’ll see you around.’

  I nodded at him, then smiled. ‘I guess so.’

  27

  Chapter 27

  When Ness and Tessa dropped me home, after the day was over, Mum invited them in for dinner. Dad had insisted she and Faith come home straight after my event to have a nap. It had obviously worked; she looked fresh and energetic again.

  ‘James is here anyway,’ she said. She had a white baby towel over her shoulder. Faith was pressed up against it while Mum patted her back. ‘And we’ve still got lots of food in the freezer. You don’t want to have to cook when you get home.’ She gestured with her head towards the kitchen. ‘David’s heating up a curry and rice, and Josh is making a salad.’

  ‘Josh is making a salad?’ asked Tessa. She grinned. ‘I have to see this.’

  ‘It’ll be inedible,’ I said. ‘But the curry’s good.’ I ducked instinctively, expecting Josh to throw something at me, even though he was through two doors and around a corner.

  ‘We’ll stay,’ said Ness. ‘That’s kind.’ She looked pleased, but concerned. ‘And then we’ll clean up for you and go straight home. You must be exhausted.’

  Mum shrugged. ‘Tired, but happy. Finally, I can do things again.’

  By the time Tessa and I had sorted out the horses, everyone was gathering out on the deck. Mum had settled down in a chair with a tall lemon squash with ice cubes next to her. I poured one for myself, clinking the cubes in my glass, and sat next to her, looking out at the view. In the distance, Mika and Fozzles and Cupcake were eating grass, flicking their tails and lifting their heads occasionally to shake their manes.

  Coco wheeled Faith out, who was tucked into her pram, her little blue eyes peeking out from under a pink bow.

  ‘Isn’t she cute?’ gushed
Coco to James. ‘See? The bow goes with the cardigan.’

  He looked unsure, like he didn’t know what he was supposed to say.

  I laughed at him. ‘You’ll have to do better than that, James. This is the best looking baby in the whole area. And best dressed too.’

  ‘Did you put avocados in?’ Tessa was talking to Josh, who seemed unsure as well, like he didn’t know to make of Tessa’s sudden interest in salad vegetables. I grinned to myself. If Tessa wanted Josh, she’d have to work a bit harder than that.

  Ness and Dad came out, carrying serving dishes. ‘Make room,’ said Dad. ‘These are hot.’ He put them down carefully, lifted the lids and ladled out plates of steaming rice and curry.

  For a few minutes there was silence; the food was good and if everyone was as hungry as I was, there was nothing else to think about except getting it into us as quickly as possible.

  Finally, Ness pushed her plate away. ‘Delicious.’ She looked out towards the horses, then back to me. ‘You did well today. Next year on Fozzles, you could make it to State if you want to.’

  ‘She can do anything if she wants to,’ said Coco, chewing probably more noisily than she realised. Even Coco’s manners slipped on curry nights.

  ‘She can,’ said Ness.

  ‘She’s always been like that,’ said Mum. Her voice got into that remembering-the-good-old-days tone she sometimes gets, mostly when she’s about to tell embarrassing stories about us kids. ‘Ever since she was a little girl, if she wanted something enough she’d do it. She just has to have confidence.’

  My face was getting hot and it wasn’t from the dinner.

  ‘Stop it.’ I made a funny face at them, like, hey, I’m embarrassed here.

  ‘You can do it, you know.’ Tessa looked up from the huge pile of salad on her plate. ‘You can go to State next year.’

  ‘She didn’t do it this year.’

  That was from Josh. I swiped out to hit him over the head, but missed and hit the back of his chair instead. It hurt my thumb. ‘Ow,’ I said, and sucked it. Faith let out a little tiny breath and cry, and suddenly all the focus was off me and on her. I felt better.