I shade a little more of Chances’ mane and narrow my eyes critically. I know I’m good at drawing but even so I can’t capture his energy and grace any more than Emily can ride him properly. I’ve only been working at the Rectory Stables for a few evenings but already I’ve watched enough of her training sessions to know even if she schools him for a million years she will never, ever get Chances to do things her way. It’s painful to watch her pull and yank him around and I’ve been glad that I’ve got seven stables to muck out to distract me from having to witness too much. Seeing Drake ride is a totally different experience. Emily is good, I can’t stand her but I can see that she’s determined and skilled in a brutal kind of way, but Drake’s in a different league altogether. When he rides it’s like watching ballet as the horses float across the arena as supple as dancers and pop four foot jumps as easily as trotting poles. While I scrub buckets and wash the cobbles with Jeyes fluid (my new and very sexy perfume) I learn so much just from watching him.
Emily wasn’t thrilled to find me on her yard but Drake must have made it plain that this was his decision and so far she’s left me alone – although she makes sure I have the grottiest chores and never misses an opportunity to point out that I’m basically her servant. I’ve put up with a lot worse though and this is a small price to pay in order to be near horses and have the chance learn to more about stable management. Emily might ride her string of glossy horses and have lessons but I’m learning too. Drake’s taught me to bandage and poultice and I’m picking up what the action of certain bits may be. Compared to helping out at the riding school this is like getting out of a spitfire and into a space ship. If I never even get to sit on a horse at least I’m around them again.
Harry’s reaction regarding my new job was predictable. He shot me a black look, stomped out of the farm house and hasn’t spoken to me since. He’s made it clear that he thinks I’m a traitor.
“It’s a good job,” I’d said to Kate. “I’ll be able to send the neighbours some money for Scally and help Mum when I get home. I had three jobs in Bristol and I’ve lost them all. I have to do something.”
Hands covered in flour from kneading bread at the table, Kate paused mid task and nodded.
“He’ll calm down, love, and then you can explain it to him. He’ll understand.”
Somehow I doubted this. Harry hated the Owens and I couldn’t imagine what I could possibly say that would make him understand why I’d want to work for Drake.
“He’s still hurting so much about his dad,” Kate continued quietly. “It’s been so hard for him, Amber. He and Ben were very close. He needs someone to blame in order to make sense of it all but there are just some things that just don’t make much sense at all, aren’t there?”
I’d nodded. Mum’s illness doesn’t make sense to me. When she goes into that dark place where I can’t reach her, for instance, or when they tell me I’m too young to understand, as though getting older makes people any wiser. They’re just wrinkly and confused then, as far as I can see. They don’t seem to know any more than I do.
I’d found Harry in his workshop. A harrow was on the ground and he was busy welding something to it, sparks fantailing into the air and making him glow crimson. Or maybe that was down to his mood?
Catching sight of me, he paused and pushed his mask up into his thick blonde hair.
“What?”
“You know what,” I said. “The job.”
Harry turned his back on me and started whacking a hammer against the harrow. I hoped it wasn’t a voodoo hammer.
“Why are you asking me? Thought you’d already taken it.”
Whack! Whack! Whack! Went the hammer and I flinched with every blow.
“I’d like to. No, it’s more than that. I need to.”
“So you can hang out with golden boy?” The scorn in his words was hotter than the molten metal.
“Don’t be so childish! I need the money.”
Harry snorted rudely. “What for? Hair dye?”
These comments stung. I knew my red hair was coming back with a vengeance but quite frankly that was the least of my concerns.
“To send back to our neighbour. Scally’s costing too much to feed and Lynn can’t keep her without money.” There was a knot in my throat and I just about managed to choke out the rest. “She’ll have to go to the rescue shelter otherwise and then ...”
My words petered out. I didn’t need to fill in the blanks and the tears that I had held back for so long decided this was it it. Harry dropped his hammer and folded me into a hug while I hiccupped and sniffed and blubbed all over his overalls. He didn’t say a word, none of the usual platitudes about how it would be all right in the end or not to worry, but instead let me sob until I was all cried out. He smelt of soap and hay and burned metal and being held by him felt nice.
It felt safe.
I wasn’t used to feeling safe. Most of the time I feel as though I’m in a lift and descending very fast. Shaken, I placed my palms against his chest and gently stepped away.
“Sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”
“Don’t you?”
I wiped my nose and eyes with my cuff.
“Maybe.”
“Your Mum’s in hospital and you haven’t seen her for weeks, you’ve been dumped miles from home with a quite frankly dysfunctional family, you’re having a crap time at school, you’re worried about your home and now you’re trying to work out how to stop your dog going to the pound.” Harry ticked each of these off on his fingers. “They make quite an alarming list. I’m not surprised you’re upset.”
“I have to find a way to keep Scally safe,” I said. “If I can send money back then I think Lyn would keep her for a bit longer. Until I get back anyway.”
Harry said quietly, “Have you any idea how long that could be?”
Actually I had. I’d the pleasure of attending a core group meeting earlier and the upshot seemed to be that I’d be staying in Cornwall for a while yet. My new social worker, a caring beardy guy in a purple smock called Alan, had promised to drive me to Bristol to visit Mum but nothing had been said about returning permanently.
I swallowed back my misery. “A while I think.”
Certainly far too long for Lynn who, fat and smoking forty a day, was tired of chasing after a lively dog.
Harry said quietly. “Look, my issues with Drake are nothing to do with you. You like horses and you like Drake – I can see that I’m not a total idiot – and you need the money too. It’s a no brainer. Take the job.”
“You mean it?”
“Yes. I work for Malcolm and he employs Drake. If I was really so highly principled I wouldn’t work for him, would I? But we need the money here and you need the money for Scally.”
“And Mum. She’s got a few debts,” I admitted.
I hadn’t told him everything. For example, I didn’t tell him about the bailiffs or the electric getting cut off. Some things I keep to myself because I never want to betray Mum. She’s tried her best, it’s just that things get on top of her at times. Incredibly, Harry was more than understanding. He got what it was like to feel responsible for a parent and to do your best to protect them.
“No more riding wild horses, though?” he’d warned and I’d agreed, crossing my fingers behind my back. In reality I was living for the next time I rode Chances. Besides, the Arab wasn’t wild. He was just misunderstood.
Anyway, Harry’s cool with my job which is a relief. I should have a few pounds by the weekend which I can send to Lynn and in a couple of weeks I’ll have saved enough to square up the phone bill too. I can tell Mum all about it when I see her and hopefully this will cheer her up. I might be miles away but at least I can still help.
The bell rings and there’s a stampede out of the classroom. The teacher doesn’t even look up. I put my drawing away and weave my way around knocked down chairs and splayed text books. Freedom beckons, or at least my version of it which involves mucking out seven stables and trun
dling barrow loads of manure around. At this rate my muscles will have muscles.
The bus ride back to St Perran passes quietly enough. I text Lynn to ask about Scally but there’s no answer. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad and by the time I reach the Rectory I’ve gnawed the skin on my right thumb so much it’s bleeding. Very attractive, Amber.
I hoist my school bag onto my shoulder and trudge up the drive to the yard. The bus goes practically via John O’ Groats to get back and by the time I arrive Emily, who has a lift home, is already in the ménage warming up on Chances. Drake stands in the middle with wrap around shades shielding his eyes but I can tell by the stiff set of his shoulders and the way his teeth worry his bottom lip that he’s on edge.
“Circle again!” I hear him call. “More inside leg! Push him into the contact! Soften! Soften! If you pull against him it’s not going to work.”
I know I have the mucking out to do and that tack cleaning’s also on my agenda tonight but I can’t help myself; I have to watch. Chances is cantering around the school like a crab, snatching at the reins and throwing up his head, and Emily’s face is set in a grimace as she tries her best to steady him.
“Inside leg!” Drake shouts. “Ride him forwards! Don’t pull him back!”
But I can see Emily can’t do this. Her hands are set and she daren’t let the horse flow forward in the way he needs. The raw power that thrills me unnerves her and Emily’s every instinct is telling her to hold and gather. Some horses might respond to this but not Chances. The tighter her grip and the more tense she becomes, the more upset he grows. With every lap of the school he winds up a little more until they are cantering sideways.
“Downwards transitions,” Drake orders. “We need to break this cycle and get him focused.”
This is a smart idea. Taking Chances back to basics and schooling him quietly in some circles and serpentines will defuse him and take his mind away from the excitement of jumping. If Emily carries on like this, it’s going to end in disaster.
But Emily isn’t impressed.
“I’m going to take him over the jumps,” she calls back. “He needs to know who’s boss and get working.”
Drake doesn’t even have a chance to reply before she whips Chances around on his hocks and heads for the first jump. The speed is breathtakingly fast and they fly over in a chestnut blur and land with a flurry of sand and rubber shreds. The second jump is taken with equal speed and the third too. By the time Emily turns for the fourth Chances has stretched into a flat out gallop down the long side.
“Steady him!” Drake yells, but Emily either can’t hear or she can’t collect the Arab. Either way they approach the combination way too fast and Chances, his head held too tightly to stretch out, ploughs straight through. Poles fly across the ménage like match sticks and as Emily lurches forward the horse snatches the reins in a bid for freedom and explodes in a series of bucks. Emily loses both her stirrups and for a few stomach lurching seconds it looks as though she’s about to fall.
Drake has drained of colour and my heart is racing. As the Arab tears around the arena we’re seeing broken necks and legs, both equine and human. Somehow Emily manages to stick on and after several circuits pulls Chances up. As the horse stands, flanks heaving and nostrils flared, she raises her crop and brings it down on his flank with all her might. Once, twice and then for a third time.
I can’t help myself. I’m ducking through the ménage fence and running towards her before my brain’s registered what I’m doing. As Emily brings her crop down again I managed to grab her wrist and block the blow.
“Get out of my way,” she snarls.
My left hand curls around the reins while my right soothes Chances’ neck. I feel the horse tremble and I’m so angry I can hardly speak.
“No,” I say. “Not until you get off.”
“Take your hand off my horse,” Emily hisses. Her blue eyes are narrowed with rage. “He’s got to learn.”
“Not like this!”
“He needs to know who’s in charge! And he’s not the only one. Haven’t you got some mucking out to do? That’s what my father pays you for.” She yanks the whip out of my grasp and brandishes it. “Now move, skank.”
“Get off the horse.” Drake is at my side. His hand covers mine on the reins and for a moment I think he’s squeezing my fingers before I realise that he’s actually taking hold of the horse. Feeling foolish, I slide mine away.
“What?” Emily says.
“Get off. Now.” Drake’s voice is brittle with anger. “You heard me. Off.”
Emily opens her mouth to protest but Drake’s expression silences her. Looking mutinous she swings her right leg over Chances’ neck and jumps to the ground.
“He needs to learn his lesson,” she mutters sulkily.
“Chances hasn’t done anything wrong. That was all your doing. If you want to blame anyone, then you don’t have much further to look than yourself. And as for losing your temper? You should be ashamed of yourself,” Drake tells her.
Emily’s mouth falls open. I can’t imagine anyone’s ever spoken to her like that before.
“He’s my horse and I can do what I like!”
“Not on my watch,” Drake says. “If you want to behave like a ham fisted pony club brat then be my guest but I won’t be training you. Come back when you’re in the mood to actually listen and if you’re not, then don’t come back at all. Find yourself another trainer.”
Emily glares at him but there’s steel in Drake’s voice and she thinks better of arguing. Instead, she shoots me an evil and stalks away across the ménage. Great. School will be even worse tomorrow. Something I would have said earlier was impossible.
Drake turns to me.
“Take Chances back. Wash him down, cool him off and turn him. I’ll tack up Nightshade.”
I love watching Drake schooling. Coal black Nightshade is his top horse and they’re a dream team. Maybe if I’m quick with my mucking out I can watch?
“You’re riding?”
“Nope,” Drake replies. “You are. It’s high time you were back in the saddle and I seem to have a spare hour on my hands all of a sudden. Are you up for it?”
Up for it? A lesson on a top horse with one of Britain’s best event riders? Am I ever.
It certainly beats mucking out.
Chapter 10
“You look happy, love,” Kate comments when I arrive back at the farmhouse that evening. She’s at the Aga frying something spicy that makes my mouth water and she smiles warmly. “Did you have a good time at the yard?”
I must usually look a right misery if several hours of mucking out and a further forty minutes of being hollered at by Drake has put a smile on my face. I thought I could ride but endless circuits of the ménage being bawled at soon put me straight on that score. Nightshade’s fluid movement fell apart as soon as I was in the saddle and I’ve never had to work so hard to keep a horse in an outline or moving straight. My stomach and legs are in agony, my head’s spinning from all Drake’s instructions and I stink of horse but actually she’s right; I am happy. For the first time since I arrived here I’ve not been thinking about Mum or how I can get home to care for her but have actually focused on something else.
I feel really guilty.
“It was all right,” I mutter.
“I wasn’t criticising. Being happy is a good thing,” Kate clarifies hastily. “There’s nothing wrong with being happy, Amber. That is allowed.”
“Even we still feel happy and our dad’s dead,” Maddy points out. She’s sitting at the table, supposedly doing her homework but actually reading the latest Jaqueline Wilson. She’s living with the real deal, I think as I pull off my boots and join her. Mad mums. Sink estates. In trouble at school. The list goes on and on. If only my life had a funky cover and a happy ending. Wouldn’t that be nice?
Kate winces.
“I don’t think that comment helps much, Mads. Everyone’s circumstances are different.”
; “But Amber’s mum is alive even if she is in hospital,” Maddy points out with faultless logic. “She’ll see her again soon but we’ll never…never…”
Her words fade and her bottom lip starts to wobble. Saffy pads over and rests her head on Maddy’s knee. Maddy buries her face in the dark fur and her shoulders shake.
Kate looks at me helplessly. The pan’s sizzling and she stirs like mad to stop the food catching. I put my arm around Maddy and give her a hug.
“You’re right. I’m lucky because I will see Mum again at some point.”
How can I explain to that sometimes it feels just like my mum has died? The mum I love, the one who liked to bake and walk Scally and play the guitar, that mum went away a long time ago and I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again. The sad faced stranger in her place looks like her but she’s really not the same person. Dogood says Mum will get better and it’s just a matter of finding the right medicine but I’m not convinced. In four years they haven’t found it yet, have they?
“But you’re not going yet?” Maddy looks up and there’s a note of panic in her voice. “Not for ages. We’ll still go to school on the bus together, won’t we?”
Maddy’s still having a hard time at school. It’s not much fun for either of us but it’s worse for her because at least I can leave whereas she’s only in Year Seven and has ages to go. On the bright side at least Emily will leave in May but I know that’s not much comfort when you’re eleven and six months feels like six years.
To be honest it feels that way when you’re fifteen too. I’m still counting the days until I manage to go home and my heart twists for Maddy.
“Of course we will,” I promise. “My mum’s still poorly. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
Maddy looks more cheerful and returns to orphans/dustbin babies/Victorian scullery maids. Kate gives me a grateful look and I feel warm all over. It’s hard work being disliked and this makes a nice change. I can’t risk getting too close though because that will make leaving hard when the time comes. It’s my cardinal rule and I’m quite alarmed how close I’m starting to get to breaking it.
Chances Page 8
