I smother a yawn. “I’m just a bit tired.”
“Tired? I’ve seen pandas with less black around their eyes.”
This comment’s from Harry who’s popped in for a bacon sandwich. Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, he adds, “What are you up to, Amber? Sneaking out all night to go partying?”
“In my dreams,” I say, although he’s not as far from the truth as he thinks. “It’s not exactly party central here, is it?”
“St Perran is a bit quiet,” Kate agrees. “I hope you’re not too bored, love?”
Bored? Hardly. When I’m not being Emily’s slave I’m being barked at by Drake while I ride his horses or I’m doing chores around the farm. Then I’m riding Chances in the small hours and trying to catch up on my homework. Chuck a few meetings with Caring Alan into the mix and writing to Mum and you can safely say I’m not bored.
“It’s fine,” is all I say and Harry rolls his eyes.
“Glad we pass the Amber Evans approval test,” he says.
I put my spoon down and push the bowl aside. I’m too exhausted to even eat. When I get to the stables I’ll make a strong coffee to ping me awake. Kate doesn’t stock Red Bull, my Bristol breakfast of choice, so I’m developing an addiction to Drake’s Nesspresso machine. That would make Mum laugh. She’s longed for one of those ever since she saw the advert with George Clooney. I’m not sure if she actually thinks George comes with the coffee maker though; it’s hard to tell with her sometimes.
I think I could walk to the stables with my eyes shut and I practically do this morning since I’m so tired. It’s another beautiful autumnal day and the leaves are russet and orange and scarlet while the sea in the dip between the valley turns to liquid gold in the sunshine. Scally bounces along in front of me, barking excitedly at falling leaves and tearing off as she picks up rabbit scents. She’s loving it here. Of course she is. Woody tracks and ploughed up fields are a billion time better than the litter strewn streets of the Shakespeare Estate.
Oh no. I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Thinking that it’s nicer here than at home…
Ok, I admit it. It is nicer here. I do like it. I even think sometimes I might be happier in a weird kind of way but I mustn’t think like that because I’ll have to go back at some point. Bristol is home and Mum needs me and it’s as simple as that. I ought to know by now that there’s absolutely no point growing fond of the foster families I stay with.
“You’re late,” says Drake when I walk into the yard. He glances at the big event watch he always wears on his tanned wrist. “Ten minutes, late.”
“Sorry,” I say, shutting Scally into a stable. “I overslept.”
“Out partying?”
Why do people keep saying that? My hair’s a state, I’ve no time to bother with makeup and I’m exhausted. Hardly party animal material.
“Your hair? You’ve done something to it?” Drake reaches out and brushes curls out of my face. “Coloured it? Curled it? For a date? It suits you.”
My hair is red again and it’s wild and shaggy too. The black dye was a wash in fade out job and it’s totally given up. I’m ginger, as Emily and her cronies like to snigger, and without my makeup I’m paler than one of Stephanie Meyer’s vampires – appropriate seeing as I feel like the undead most mornings.
“I’m way too busy for dates or parties. Sorry for being late. Where do you want me to start?”
Drake gives me his brown eyed smile and the hairs on my forearms ripple. Why do I feel there’s another conversation going on here? A sub text I can’t quite pick up on?
“Since you working it’d better be something to do horses,” he says softly.
I don’t speak. For a second the air feels all static and weird. Why do have the feeling there’s something else he wants to say? I’m just on the brink of asking him what’s up when he exhales and shakes his head as though trying to dislodge the words he was searching for.
“I’ve tacked up Jet. Time to take him over the jumps.”
“Seriously?”
Drake’s been bawling me out all week about my riding. It’s all hands this, leg that and shoulders back the other. I haven’t glimpsed so much as a trotting pole. In fact, if it wasn’t for my secret late night schooling sessions I’d be thinking I was crap and tempted to give up.
“Seriously. Look, Amber, I know I’ve given you a hard time but I needed to see if you have what it takes to make it. If you think you’re perfect and aren’t prepared to work, then you can have all the talent in the world but you’ll never succeed in eventing. I’ve been watching you ride and I can see you’ve really listened to me. You’ve got talent and determination and a work ethic. Those are the very things things you need to make it in our game.”
It’s the way he says our game as much as the unexpected praise, that makes me feel warm all over. I’m part of something and maybe I could be something too? I tingle with possibilities.
Drake legs me up and tightens my girth. Then he opens the gate to the ménage and watches me work Jet in, calling out instructions. A course of jumps has set up already, nothing higher than three feet, and as I ride around them I imagine how it’s going to feel to fly over them.
Amazing, I think is the word.
Jet is one of Drake’s youngsters. A Dutch warm blood of almost seventeen hands, he makes the jumps look tiny. He also needs a lot more leg to push him into my hands and by the time he’s ready to jump I can hardly breathe.
“Fitness,” Drake remarks dryly as I pause to get my breath and put up my stirrups, “isn’t just something for the horse to worry about. If you’re going to make it around a cross country course you need to be fit too. Time you started running and lifting some weights.”
I laugh. “I lift enough buckets and rubber matts here and I’m always running over from the farm.”
“It’s not enough. You need a proper fitness routine,” he says, deadly serious. “I run every morning at six. Why don’t you join me?”
I roughly calculate that this will mean I’ll have about four hours sleep a night and open my mouth to decline.
“OK, you’re on.”
What? What! Where did that come from? What on earth am I thinking? Apart from how much fun it could be to train with Drake and have him all to myself…
Now my face is really hot and I’m glad Drake can’t read my mind, Harry style. At least he’ll think it’s the effort of riding Jet that’s making my cheeks glow.
“What’s she doing riding Jet? Have you flipped? He’s your best hope for 2020!”
Emily leans on the ménage gate and her pretty face is twisted into an expression that looks oddly like envy. Chances, trussed up in leather like something from a dodgy late night cable TV channel, is standing beside her. Already I can see the white of his eyes and sense his growing agitation.
“Amber’s popping him around the jumps,” Drake says evenly. “It’s good for him to have a different jockey on board and good for me to see him move from the ground. Already I can see he’s coming up short on the near hind.”
But Emily couldn’t give a hoot about the theory.
“She’ll wreck him. For God’s sake, Drake. Let her get back to scrubbing buckets. I need the school anyway and you’re paid to train me. Not her.”
“It’s not nine am yet. I’m on my time.” Drake catches my eye and gives me a ghost of a wink. “Amber’s pretty good and I’m thinking of letting her take Jet to the event at Colehydrack.”
Emily scowls as she tows Chances, dancing and snorting, into the school.
“You’re mad, Drake. She’ll break her neck. Or even worse, his.”
“It’s nice of you to be so concerned, Emily, but I’ll be fine,” I say sweetly.
She makes a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a snort, like a posh Peppa Pig.
“Anyone can jump Jet. He’s brilliant. If you’re so good why don’t you try it on a difficult horse? If you can jump a round on this lunatic then maybe you’re half way good enough to enter Colehydr
ack.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Drake begins but stops because I’ve leapt off Jet, thrown the reins at him, vaulted onto Chances and am riding away to warm him up. Wow. A saddle! This is going to make life a whole bunch easier. Yippee!
“Amber, come back! This is crazy,” I hear Drake call but this time I’m ignoring my trainer because unknowingly Emily has given me the perfect opportunity to do what I’ve been longing to – take Chances over a proper course rather than bits of old tree trunk and the paddock fence. Used to me after a week of midnight schooling, Chances relaxes through his paces and I feel him soften into the contact. I trot and canter on each rein just like in the paddock and then, because I can’t resist it, make a figure of eight around the jumps and ask for a flying change.
“This is it boy,” I whisper, winding my fingers into his mane and turning for the first fence. “Time to show them what you can do.”
Chances’ ears prick, he surges forward and we’re over the first jump so easily that I hardly feel us leave the ground. Landing, I gather him for the next jump which he flies before turning for the combination and then an upright. The final jump is a spread and I know we’ll have to approach with impulsion and control so I shift my weight a little to steady him as I half halt before letting him fly and cantering a lap of the school patting his neck and telling him how brilliant he is. Then I ask him to walk and he listens instantly, prancing and tossing his head because he knows how clever he is, but he’s listening too. He’s made it look easy and I think I’m going to explode with pride.
Drake’s mouth is swinging open. It’s just as well he hasn’t any idea how I usually jump Chances and how many tumbles I’ve taken this week. It’s certainly a whole lot easier with a saddle!
“I ought to say that was stupid and reckless,” he scolds, “and it was, but it was also absolutely incredible. That’s exactly the way Chances needs to be ridden. Tact and sympathy all the way with a horse like him. Brute force will never work.”
“It was a fluke!” Emily, puce faced and seething, glowers at me from beneath the brim of her pink glittery riding hat. “The horse is coming good. It was bound to happen at some point. She’s just lucky.”
“She rode beautifully,” Drake says quietly but Emily ignores him.
“Get off my horse, gyppo.”
Reluctantly, I slide to the floor. Her insults wash right over me because I know just how much work it’s taken to get this far. My head is buzzing with possibilities too as I imagine how good Chances and I could be. I know it’s all dreams but I know we could jump the moon and the stars.
Emily hauls herself into the saddle and instantly Chances tenses and rolls his eyes. When he starts to dance her fingers close on the reins, making him snatch and pivot at the harsh contact.
“Right,” she says through gritted teeth, “now watch how it’s really done.”
“Don’t be so childish, Em! It’s not a competition! Some horses just go better with some riders,” Drake says evenly. “There’s no shame in it. Event riders change horses all the time. It’s not personal.”
But to Emily it’s very personal. She hates me and she hates that Drake thinks I might have a talent. It doesn’t matter that all I’ve been given is just a little scrap compared to the opportunities lavished onto her. Even that’s too much to bear. She jabs her spurred heels into Chances’ sides and they shoot forwards towards the jumps.
It’s too fast. Way, way too fast. Somehow they clear the first one and hurl themselves over the second before charging towards the combination. Chances’ canter is no longer bouncy and rhythmic but disunited and ugly, the strides lengthening until he’s galloping at the jump. I watch helplessly as Emily saws at his mouth in an attempt to gain control.
“Slow down!” Drake yells but it’s far too late. As Chances cat leaps the first element Emily wobbles and is left behind, losing her line to the second element and taking it at a slant. By the third jump they are so skew whiff that Chances sits right back on his hocks and leaps the wing, a jump that must be at least five feet.
It’s too much for Emily. Already unbalanced and minus a stirrup, she pitches out of the saddle and falls into the jump with a sickening crack. Chances tears around the school, reins dangling and stirrups swinging, but there’s no movement at all from his rider.
Emily Lacey lies motionless and crumpled amid the scattered poles.
Chapter 12
“It’s probably just concussion but she’ll need to be checked out. Hopefully nothing too serious, but you can never be too careful.”
The paramedic’s words are reassuring but Drake doesn’t look convinced. The shock of seeing Emily unconscious and the drama of calling an ambulance has really shaken him.
“There’s nothing broken?”
“Not as far as we can tell. She’ll have an X ray on her arm but I’d put money on the fact it’s just a sprain. You did everything exactly right. She’s had a nasty tumble and she’ll feel rough for a day or two but she’ll be fine.”
Emily is inside the ambulance with Malcolm. It’s only the second time I’ve laid eyes on him but I’m impressed by how concerned he is for Emily. It’s good to know that not all Dads push off when there’s trouble.
“If you lot must sit on horses! Nasty beasts, dangerous at both ends,” the paramedic adds when Drake fails to reply but even this attempt at humour fails to raise a smile.
Once the ambulance has left, Drake and I take the horses back to the yard. Neither of us feels like talking and it’s only once the stable chores are done and the horses turned out that he comes to find me and delivers a mug of coffee. Taking it, I follow him into the sunshine and perch on the mounting block.
“I’d have put something stronger in it but you’re too young,” he teases.
“Where I come from they’re necking cider by twelve,” I reply, wrapping my cold fingers around the mug.
Drake gives me a sideways look. “Something tells me you’re not joking.”
I think about the Shakespeare Estate with its boarded up shops, graffiti and air of utter hopeless and I can’t think of anything to laugh about.
“It’s a bit different to here,” is all I say. “Not many horses.”
“So how come you’re such a fantastic rider?”
“Fantastic? Me? I don’t think so.”
“Come on, Amber, let’s not bother being modest. How the Hell you got Chances over the jumps like that is nothing short of a miracle. You’re a natural horsewoman and you’ve got talent. We both know that if you were in Emily’s shoes you’d be flying.” He takes a sip of coffee and then says innocently, “It’s almost like you’ve jumped Chances before.”
I’m suddenly absolutely fascinated by the cobblestones. Hmm. They need a sweep.
“I’m not an idiot, Amber,” Drake says. “And you don’t always brush those bridle marks away as well as you think you do.”
I look up, shocked.
“I know you’ve been riding him and I haven’t said anything because…” he shakes his head as he searches for the words, “I guess because I like the horse and I like you too. You’re both rebellious and spirited and independent and you make a good team. You’re both talented too but when that talent isn’t channeled there’s trouble – as I imagine your teachers know.”
My eyes are wide at this unexpected praise.
“But now, after seeing this display, I can’t keep quiet anymore. There’s no way you’re to ride Chances, Amber. He’s too volatile.”
I round on him furiously. “But this wasn’t his fault! You saw how beautifully he went with me! Emily can’t ride a horse like Chances. You said so yourself, he needs patience and hard work and we both know she isn’t big on either of those things.”
“And the more she winds him up the worse he’ll get,” Drake agrees bleakly. He tips the dregs of his coffee onto the cobbles and I watch it sink into the cracks just like my hopes are sinking into despair. “After this I doubt Malcolm will want to keep him anyway.”
A cold hand squeezes my heart. “You think they’d sell Chances?”
Drake nods. “Maybe it’s for the best? He was always a gamble and it’s clear it’s not working out. If Malcolm asks my opinion I’m afraid I’m going to tell him I believe the horse should go.”
“You don’t mean that!”
His mouth is set in a grim line. “I do. This sport is deadly enough. I can’t take any more risks.”
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so betrayed in all my life. Not even when Dad left. I could understand that, goodness knows I’d have left too if somebody had given me a choice, but I cannot understand how Drake could give up on Chances.
Unless of course this is more to do with how he feels about Emily?
Of course. It’s so obvious. Drake’s in love with Emily. Why has it taken me so long to see it? His loyalty is to her and Malcolm. All the big speeches about my talent and Chances’ ability were just hot air.
I put my coffee cup down and walk across to the stable where Scally’s snoozing.
“Come on, girl.”
“Where are you going?” Drake asks.
“Anywhere but here.” I’m not sticking around a second longer. Stuff his job. I can get a paper round or do some waitressing in one of the local pubs to earn some cash. Anything’s better than this. I scoop my dog up in my arms and bury my face in her rough fur. It’s a sad day when you realise that your dog really is the only person you can rely upon.
Drake stares at me. “Are you walking out on me?”
“Are you giving up on me?” I counter.
He fixes me with a look that stops me in my tracks. I can’t move. I can hardly breathe.
“I’d never give up on you, Amber. Never. But whether or not you choose to believe that is up to you. But one thing I will tell you is that you won’t be risking your neck on Chances. Absolutely no way. Not on my watch. You’re way too important for that.”
And with this comment, Drake walks away from me while I gaze after him with my heart racing.
Chances Page 10
