A Horse for the Summer

by Michelle Bates

  “I know and I’m so sorry, Nick,” Tom interrupted.

  “Hang on,” said Nick. “That’s not for you to worry about. It’s our problem.” Tom listened desperately as Nick continued.

  “Sarah and I have decided to take a chance with the horse, if you’ll excuse the pun,” he grinned. “If you’re prepared to put in the work, we’ll let you keep him on at the stables. What do you say?”

  “Oh yes,” Tom breathed, hardly able to believe what he was hearing.

  “Right. Well, first things first,” said Nick. “We’ll have to take him back to the beginning and school him again. I don’t want to guess what your cousin’s been doing with him. All I know is that if Chancey was once a champion, which he clearly was, then he can be made a champion again. We’ve got just under eight weeks if he’s to be fit and ready for the Benbridge show at the end of August,” Nick finished. “Do you want to take on the challenge?”

  “You bet,” said Tom, grinning from under the strand of hair that had fallen over his face. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Well, he’ll have to be clipped. I’ll organize that this week while you’re at school. And he’ll need to be shod and have his teeth checked. They’ll probably have to be rasped. Then we’ll have to discuss a schedule for training and getting him fit, and carefully monitor his eating habits.”

  “I can do that,” said Tom, eagerly.

  “I’m not going to have a great deal of time to help you straight away. There’s lots going on at Sandy Lane at the moment, so you must be patient,” Nick continued. “Oh and most important of all. You must swear that you won’t take Chancey out on your own. Not until I think you’re both ready for it anyway. We just can’t trust him at the moment. He’s dangerous. Sarah would never forgive me if anything was to happen to you,” he chuckled. “Besides, I don’t want people thinking we’re not safe at Sandy Lane. So, do I have your word?”

  “Of course, Nick. I promise.”

  “Well, that’s about it then. You could come down to Sandy Lane after school on Wednesday if you like. I should have had a chance to do a bit of work with him by then. I’ve got a spare hour at five. We could spend it in the outdoor school. What do you say?”

  “Fantastic.” Tom beamed.

  “When does term end by the way?” asked Nick.

  “Next Friday,” Tom answered.

  “Good,” said Nick. “Well, see you Wednesday evening then.”

  It was a statement rather than a question. Everything had been decided so quickly. Tom looked up half-embarrassed.

  “Will you thank Sarah for me? And, I...I...well...thank you.”

  Nick smiled and closed the door behind him.

  Time went so slowly over the next three days. Tom could hardly believe it when on Wednesday the bell sounded around the school as the day ended. He was the first to get to the classroom door and bolted out of the building before anyone could stop him.

  “Another day over, two more to go,” he chanted to himself.

  Turning out of the school drive, Tom sprinted to the stables. When he reached Sandy Lane, Tom hurried straight to the outdoor school. Nick was as good as his word and already had Chancey on a lunge rein. The saddle on Chancey’s back looked funny without any stirrups. As he trotted around the school, he looked altogether like a different horse. He was calm for a start.

  “I’ve been lungeing him since Monday. He’s been getting better and better. Come into the middle here,” said Nick, clicking Chancey on into a canter, flicking the whip lightly towards his hock. “He hasn’t forgotten his paces.”

  Nick slowed Chancey down to a trot with the word ‘ter-rot’. Tom walked into the school and took the lunge rein that Nick offered him. Nick stood next to Tom and guided him through the horse’s paces. Tom only needed to use the whip very lightly as Chancey started to respond to the sound of his voice.

  “Very good,” said Nick. “Let’s try him with some loose jumping. I think Georgina must have been fighting with him for control before a jump, that’s why he’s so nervy. Every horse likes to find his own natural take-off point.” Nick put up some cross poles and got Tom to lunge Chancey over them.

  “You see. He jumps perfectly on his own. And because the poles are crossed, it gets him to take off in the middle of the jump. Give him another five minutes and then we’ll put him away for the night,” said Nick.

  “He’s been so well-behaved. I don’t think we want to push him too hard. We could try riding him out at the weekend. It’s just a matter of building up mutual trust. He’s not really a problem horse and he’s certainly not too old to learn...” Nick’s voice tailed off as the ring of the telephone sounded from the tack room.

  “Oh blast,” Nick said. “I’ll speak to you later,” he called, running for the phone.

  “You see, there’s hope for you yet,” Tom said, turning to lead Chancey up the drive. “Now, you listen here. I won’t see you for a while now. Well, not until Saturday anyway, so you’d better be on your best behaviour.”

  The yard was still as Tom and Chancey crunched across the gravel. Tom led the horse to his box and gave him a quick rub down. Tenderly, he pulled Chancey’s ears before bolting him in for the night. Slinging the bridle over his shoulder and carrying the saddle on his arm, he crossed the yard to return them to the tack room.

  “Do you fancy going to the Ash Hill horse sale with me on Saturday morning, Tom?” Nick’s voiced echoed around the yard. “Just to have a look around.”

  “Isn’t Sarah always telling us how risky it is to buy at a sale?” Tom called back, confused. But Nick was out of earshot and there was no reply. Tom shrugged his shoulders. He knew he should be pleased that out of everyone, Nick had asked him to go with him. But he couldn’t help feeling that it would be a waste of time and he had really wanted to ride Chancey on Saturday morning. Oh well, perhaps they could do some work with him in the afternoon.

  Tom shivered as he strolled over to his bike and headed off into the still evening. He was exhausted, but at last he felt he was getting somewhere with Chancey. It had been a long day, and yet one that marked a turning point for Tom...one he wouldn’t forget in a hurry.

  5

  STORM CLOUD

  Saturday arrived quicker than Tom could have imagined. Rolling over in bed, he looked out of the window and smiled. He would be able to spend the whole day with Chancey. Then he groaned...the Ash Hill sale, and he’d said to Nick that he would go with him. He’d have to get a move on, it started at nine. Hurriedly, he threw on some clothes, grabbed a slice of bread and rushed outside to his bike.

  He got to the bottom of Clee Hill in record time and cycled hard to the top. Taking his feet out of the pedals as he reached the summit, he zoomed down the other side and into Sandy Lane. Nick was already waiting when Tom reached the yard.

  “All set Tom?” he smiled. “Now, we’ll just look at the horses that are fully warranted. I want to see what’s around at the moment but we’re not going to buy anything.”

  “Well, shouldn’t we take the horse box just in case?” Tom asked.

  “No,” said Nick rather too quickly. “If we don’t take it, we won’t be tempted.”

  Tom smiled to himself. He’d heard it all before. If Nick got carried away, nothing would stop him from being tempted.

  Jumping into the Land Rover, they jolted out of the yard, down Sandy Lane and onto the road to Ash Hill. The engine groaned as Nick changed gear and they chugged along. It didn’t take them long to drive the two miles.

  Tom frowned as he got out at the sale and stared in despair at the long rows of horses. It was the most depressing place on earth. Why had he agreed to come? All of these horses and ponies – creatures from good homes and once well-loved, now standing alone awaiting their fate.

  “Have a look at the catalogue, Tom. I’ve marked a couple of possibles.”

  Tom looked at the entries Nick had put a cross by – a registered bay mare of 14.2 hands, and a grey hunter.

  “What abou
t this one too, Nick?” Tom asked, pointing to a lot in the catalogue.

  “Registered yellow Dun working pony, rising four, two white socks, 13.2 hands without shoes. Fully warranted. Sounds good,” Nick said.

  “Come on, let’s go and have a look.”

  But they didn’t get that far. As they made their way down the lines of horses, Tom could see that Nick’s eye was immediately caught by a fragile, dappled-grey pony in the corner. Tied to a muddy piece of rope, her head downcast, she didn’t even look up as they approached. She was so thin. Tom knew from that moment that Nick was caught. He couldn’t bear to drag himself away from the little pony. Gently Nick stroked her shoulder as she tilted her delicately dished face towards him, nuzzling his pockets for titbits. Quickly, he ran his hands down her legs.

  “There isn’t time to see her run up in hand. Look at the welts in her coat, Tom. She’s been badly neglected. And she can’t be any older than three. Her conformation is good.”

  And then they heard the bidding start.

  “Come on, let’s hurry,” said Nick.

  Swiftly, they made their way to the ringside. Nick turned to his catalogue.

  “Lot number one, what will you give me for this bay cob here?” the auctioneer was saying.

  “Who’ll start me at three hundred? Three hundred. Am I bid three fifty? Three fifty, I’m bid. Four hundred?”

  It was all happening so quickly, that Tom could hardly make out what was going on. Before he knew it, the cob had been sold to a man at the back.

  “Knackers,” said Nick. Tom felt tears well up in his eyes and blinked them away. He was going to have to be much tougher. If only he was rich, he would buy them all. He turned away, wanting to be apart from it.

  “There are only ten more lots and then she’s in,” Nick whispered. “Probably about fifteen minutes if you want to go and grab a lemonade,” he said, seeing Tom’s pale face.

  “I think that might be a good idea,” Tom smiled weakly.

  Tom squeezed through the crowd and headed for the refreshments tent. Joining the queue of people milling around, he felt as though he wasn’t quite a part of it – like watching some sort of pantomime.

  As he made his way back to Nick, he realized that the little grey pony was being led around the ring and Nick was in the bidding.

  “I’ll just go fifty more,” Nick whispered as he raised his card in the air.

  There was a deathly hush. Tom took a deep breath, praying that no one else would bid.

  “Any advance on four hundred? Will anyone give me four fifty? All done at four hundred?” the auctioneer was saying.

  Tom held his breath in anticipation.

  “Four hundred I’m bid once. Four hundred twice. Going...going...gone.”

  With that the auctioneer banged his hammer on the desk.

  “Sold to the man at the back,” he said, staring straight at Nick. Tom turned to Nick and grinned. They had got her.

  “Name?” he called.

  “Nick Brooks,” Nick answered.

  “Address?” the man returned.

  “Sandy Lane Stables, Sandy Lane, near Colcott.”

  It was all over, and without a second’s thought, the auctioneer had turned his attention to the next lot.

  “You have to pay in advance,” a voice called from behind a counter at the side of the ring. Tom glanced over to see a woman sitting at a desk, looking quite out of place in a blue jumper with bright red nail varnish.

  “I know,” said Nick, reaching for his wallet.

  Once they had paid and collected the relevant papers, Tom and Nick made their way over to where the little grey pony had been left. Quickly, Nick untethered her, talking to her all the time in a soft voice.

  “We’ll soon have you away from here my girl,” he soothed.

  “What’s she called?” Tom asked quietly.

  “Storm Cloud,” Nick answered.

  “Storm Cloud,” Tom breathed. “It’s perfect for her,” he said, as the three of them walked slowly away from the sale.

  “Why don’t you hop up on her and I’ll lead,” Nick said quickly. “We’ll come back later for the Land Rover.”

  “OK,” said Tom, bending his knee for Nick to give him a leg-up. “What’s Sarah going to say?”

  “Well,” Nick reddened, “that’s not for you to worry about. I don’t think she’ll be too delighted, but when she sees Storm Cloud she’ll feel differently. Sarah might pretend to be as hard as nails, but underneath it all, she’s a bit of a softie.”

  “Well, at least Storm Cloud’s fully warranted,” said Tom. “That’s one thing, so you won’t have to pay any vet’s bills. Fingers crossed.”

  Slowly, they picked their way along the grass verge by the side of the road.

  “She’s got a nice long stride,” Tom continued. “She just seems a bit tired.”

  “Oh, she only needs feeding up,” said Nick. “There’s plenty of summer grass for her to tuck into at home.”

  They walked along in silent contemplation as the traffic sped past. Storm Cloud didn’t even flinch at the cars.

  “Could we do some training with Chancey this afternoon, Nick?” Tom asked, breaking the silence.

  “I don’t see why not. Sarah’s taking out the hacks,” he answered. “It’ll be a good opportunity for us to get started with him.”

  “Great,” said Tom, as Nick pulled Storm Cloud’s head up from the grass.

  “Come on. You’ll have enough of that later,” he said, “but we’ve got to get you home first and we’re almost there.”

  Tom wrinkled up his nose as they passed the pig farm and neared the stables. They passed Bucknell Wood and were at the bottom of the drive in no time at all. Slowly, they strolled into the yard.

  “Tom, do you think you could sort out Storm Cloud for me?” said Nick. “Put her in the loose box by the tack room. I’d better go and tell Sarah about our latest acquisition,” he said sheepishly.

  “Sure,” said Tom, jumping swiftly to the ground. “Come on, Stormy,” he whispered, as he led her to the stable. She was sweating slightly, tired after the long walk home. Tom rubbed her shivering body with a wisp of straw.

  Moments later, Nick appeared with Sarah. Tom led Storm Cloud out and circled her as a group gathered to see the latest addition, waiting to hear if she was given the Sandy Lane seal of approval. Quickly, Sarah ran her hands down the horse’s legs.

  “Well, she’s sound, and she’s got kind eyes, even if she doesn’t look in great shape.” She patted her on the shoulder. “She’ll soon fill out,” she smiled, turning to Nick, “even if she was from a sale.” Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Sarah did know her stuff.

  “Come on Tom,” said Nick as everyone dispersed. “Come and help, and then we could take Chancey out for that ride I promised you.”

  “Well, if you think he’s ready for it,” Tom stammered nervously.

  “He’ll be all right if we take it slowly,” said Nick.

  Tom hurried off to prepare a quick bran mash for Storm Cloud as Nick led the dejected horse back to her new home. It didn’t take them long to get her rugged up and give her a quick rub down. And then Tom rushed to get Chancey ready. Feeling guilty that his beloved horse had taken a back seat, so enthralled had he been with the dappled grey pony, Tom determined to make an extra good job of grooming him.

  And sure enough, Tom didn’t rest content until he could have sworn he saw his reflection in Chancey’s coat. Putting the bit into the horse’s mouth, Tom slipped the bridle on and did up the throat lash. Carefully, he slid the saddle down Chancey’s back and tightened the girth. Adjusting his riding hat, he led the horse out of his stable.

  “Wow,” said Nick. “Tom, you’ve done an amazing job on him. Chancey looks wonderful.”

  Tom glowed at Nick’s words of praise. Climbing into their saddles, they strolled out of the yard and through the gate at the back. Tom hummed happily to himself. Neither of them said a word as they lengthened their reins and rode across t
he fields. It was a beautiful July day, the aquamarine sky was intense and the smell of the country engulfed them. Chancey’s coat shone a burnished red as the sun beat down on their backs and they entered Larkfield Copse. Tom didn’t think he could ever feel happier, certainly never as content, as he lost himself in his riding and he and his horse became as one. And suddenly, they were out of the trees and crossing the old coastal track, over to the open fields that led to the cliff tops. Tom could smell the salt in the air. Chancey snorted excitedly, swishing his tail with a determined air.

  “Come on, let’s have a canter,” Nick said mischievously. “Make sure you stay behind me and try to let me go for a few strides before you let Chancey follow on. I don’t want you forcing me into a gallop,” he laughed. “Luckily Whisp won’t panic, she’s too much of an old lady for that, she’ll hold you back.”

  Tom crouched low in the saddle and urged Chancey on after Nick. They rode like the wind and, as they pounded across the springy turf, it seemed as though they were covering miles. All at once, there was a fallen tree in their path. For a moment, Tom was startled. What would Chancey do? They were going at quite a speed. And then he remembered all that Nick had told him – let the horse do the work and don’t interfere. Scornfully, Chancey soared three feet above the log. Nick looked under his arm in amazement, as he slowed down to a trot and then to a walk.

  “That was magnificent Tom,” he said breathlessly. “He jumps like a stag. I haven’t seen a horse like him in a long time.”

  Tom smiled to himself as they made their way back to the stables. Winding their way through the little copse of trees, they let their horses stretch their heads after their exertions. Slowly ambling back the way that they had come less than an hour ago, they picked their way through the fields, back through the gate to Sandy Lane and clattered noisily into the yard.

  6

  TOM’S SECRET