Chances

by Ruth Saberton

  A car horn sounds and we canter through the start. Almost instantly a big fallen log rears up in front of us and Chances takes off perfectly, soaring over the jump as easily as though it’s just a pole on the floor. All my nerves vanish in a heartbeat and I laugh out loud at just how daft I’ve been. Whatever was I worried about?

  His mane flying in the breeze like flame and hooves skimming the grass, Chances surges forward and flies everything in his path. He locks on to each jump with total concentration, ears pricked with delight and every sinew coiled as he powers us up into the air and then onwards. Ditches, hay feeders, tyres and styles pass in a blur of adrenalin and joy and the cold air stings my cheeks and whips tears from my eyes as we gallop onwards. I hardly notice the quarry or the style and the water complex feels little more than splashing through a puddle. The flowing rhythm of galloping and jumping is so natural and it seems incredible that we’re nearly all the way around and now the final jump, a solid wooden gate, is fast approaching. I’ve never know time go so fast. It feels like only seconds have passed since we flew out of the starting box.

  “Nearly there, boy!” I say, hardly able to believe that the course is at an end. “Just one left.

  The gate is looming. Six strides, five, four and then I can’t count any more, all I can do is wind my fingers into Chances’ mane and hurl myself up his neck as he launches us over the jump. The we’ve landed and are racing towards the finish, the spectators pressed against the ropes at either side of the course little more than a blur of faces and their clapping a mere ripple against the drumming of my horse’s hooves. Somehow I manage to pull up and then I leap off Chances, flinging my arms around his neck and burying my face in his hot neck. Nothing else exists except my horse and my racing heart and nothing else matters except for thanking him for carrying us today. It’s the biggest course I have ever ridden and Chances made every jump an absolute joy.

  No matter what happens next with Mum, the hostel and school I know I’ll remember this moment for the rest of my life. It will see me through a lot.

  “Thank you, boy,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

  Chances nudges the crook of my arm for a treat and, unable to resist, I manage to produce a fluff covered Polo from the depths of my jodhpur pocket. It’s the least he deserves.

  I run up my stirrups, loosen the girth and then we walk slowly back towards the lorry park, partly to cool Chances off and partly so I can collect myself because I am literally shaking with excitement.

  “You’ve got the fastest time!”

  Harry, a massive grin on his face, strides towards us. Flinging the cooler over Chances and taking his reins from me he adds, “You should have seen Emily Lacey’s face. You’ve knocked almost two minutes off her time.”

  I’m not surprised we were fast. Chances gallops like the wind. It’s as Drake says; if he goes well and listens then he’s unbeatable but he just won’t be bullied. Force him and you will have a fight on your hands you can never, ever win. I have no martingale, no gag and no flashy gadgets but I have a horse I trust and my confidence in Chances is unshakeable.

  If only it was that easy with people.

  With Chances cooling off in his rug, Harry and I walk him through the trailers and back towards the practice arena. We stop off for cups of scalding tea and order big oily cheese burgers, oozing ketchup and onions. My mouth waters as I suddenly realise I’m absolutely starving. I don’t think anything has ever tasted as good.

  “You’ve practically inhaled it!” Harry laughs, reaching forward and mopping ketchup from my chin with a paper napkin. “Here, have the rest of mine.”

  I’m so hungry that I accept. Then we sip our tea and let Chances graze while the final competitors ride the course. The sun is out and the leaves on the trees glow gold and crimson while the sky is bright blue. How lucky am I to have ridden my amazing horse around such a beautiful course? It’s weird because winning no longer matters at all; Chances and I have got around safely and he’s given me the ride of my life. I’m so proud of him. We’ve won something far more important than a competition today. We’ve proven we can do this.

  While Harry chats to some young farmers I listen to the commentary crackle over the loud speakers and I gasp and groan with the rest of the crowd. There are falls and eliminations and at one point a bay horse gallops through the finish without his rider and an ambulance lumbers onto the course. There are only two competitors left and to finish now and as I stroke Chances and drink in the charged atmosphere, I spot Emily standing by the judges’ box. Her face is grim as she waits for the results and she’s saying something to Drake who shakes his head. She wants to win so desperately that I almost feel sorry for her. I have no idea who is leading or what’s happening.

  It really doesn’t matter.

  “The last rider’s just through the water and coming up the the last jump,” says Harry. “He’s fast and clear but unless I’m very much mistaken he’s not as fast as you. You’re still in the lead.”

  I hadn’t any idea that I was in the lead. No wonder Emily looks like someone’s just shot her granny. The girl she hates, riding the horse she couldn’t handle, have beaten her.

  My stomach knots with unease. I’d better have my wits about me when I return to school next week.

  The final horse and rider emerge from the woods. They pop the gate easily and then the rider gives his horse its head as they gallop for the finish. There’s another crackle of static from the commentary box and Harry roars with delight.

  “You’ve done it, Amber! You’ve only gone and won!”

  Chances snorts and sidles at the shouting and I’m fully occupied for a few moments just keeping hold of my horse.

  “We’ll have to celebrate,” Harry is saying excitedly. “Look, there’s a hunt ball coming up and I was wondering if –”

  But what Harry’s wondering I don’t discover because he’s interrupted by the arrival of Drake who is hurtling towards us.

  “I knew you’d do it!” He cries, throwing his arms around me and hugging me. “Didn’t I tell you how talented you are? Now do you believe me? Do you?”

  And do you know what? When Drake holds me close and spins me around, I do believe him. I think I would believe anything! I’ve done it! I’ve won!

  “I can start to pay you back,” I say excitedly to Harry once Drake releases me.

  “Isn’t she brilliant?” asks Drake. He holds out his hand to Harry. “Look, we’re both very proud of Amber today. Don’t you think it’s time we buried the hatchet?”

  But Harry’s face is stony and the sparkle’s gone from his eyes.

  “I buried my father thanks to your family, so forgive me if the answer’s no,” he says bitterly as he pushes Chances’ reins into my hands. “I’ll see you back at the trailer, Amber. I’m ready to leave when you are.”

  Drake’s hand drops and suddenly the sun doesn’t seem quite as shiny or winning quite as thrilling. As Harry strides away I really want to follow him but they’re calling for me now and I have to return to the practice ring to collect my cup and my prize.

  I’ve done it. I’ve won.

  So why, all of a sudden, does it feel as though I’ve lost?

  Chapter 20

  Harry doesn’t speak much on the way back to Perranview Farm and after a few attempts at conversation are met with grunts or one syllable answers I give up. I know a good sulk when I see one, although I haven’t a clue what his problem is.

  OK. That’s not entirely true. I know Drake’s Harry’s problem but I thought we’d agreed that Chances was our priority? And hadn’t Harry said himself that if he was really highly principled then he wouldn’t work for Malcolm who employed Drake? And Harry knows Drake comes over to teach me every morning, he’s even said a few curt words to him, so what on earth is his issue now?

  I’ll try again.

  “Aren’t you pleased Chances won?”

  “Mmmph,” says Harry.

  “And wasn’t he brilliant over the course?”


  “Yes. I’ve already said that. You did well. OK?”

  He leans forward and turns the radio up and the cab is filled with the thud of the latest X Factor charity track. Well, that’s told me. Looks like it’s a ‘no’ from him them.

  I lean back in my seat and study the big silver cup I’ve been nursing all the way back from the agricultural college. Inside it is an envelope which contains a cheque for five hundred pounds which is more money than I could have earned in months of mucking out at the stables. It’s going to come in handy now I’ve lost my job, that’s for sure and of course I’ll pay Harry back too.

  If he ever talks to me again, that is.

  Back at the farm, I unload Chances while Harry deals with the trailer. Maddy and Kate come running into the yard to stuff the Arab with apples and carrots and then they help me brush him down and take off his travel boots. Maddy’s prepared a stable with a bed so full of thick golden straw that I could practically fall asleep in it myself and there’s a feed waiting as well as a fat hay net. Chances walks around a few times, checks to make sure that Treacle and Minty are next door and then turns his full attention to gobbling up his dinner.

  I give him a pat and rest my head against his warm shoulder. I think I could stand here forever and breathe in the scent of warm, contented horse.

  “Enjoy it, boy. You’ve earned it.”

  “He certainly has,” Kate agrees, smiling at me from the barn door. Twilight’s falling behind her and the light of the farmhouse kitchen spills across the yard, inviting and cosy. “And so have you. I’ve cooked us a celebration dinner.”

  “We’re having roast beef and Yorkshire pudding! And potatoes and parsnips in honey!” Maddy chips in excitedly. “And there’s a trifle too. We bought all the the food this morning for your celebration dinner.”

  Wow. A big roast dinner with a joint of beef is really pushing the boat out. Kate’s a great cook but I know she does her best to eek things out and to use produce from the farm.

  “That was taking a risk, buying the celebration food before I’d actually ridden wasn’t it?”

  “I never doubted for a minute you’d do it.” Kate says staunchly. “And even if you hadn’t won we’d still have had a celebration dinner because we’re proud of you anyway, Amber. Very proud.”

  The barn goes a bit swimmy and I have to concentrate very hard on looking at the toes of my riding boots. When I look up again Kate’s gone and I’m able to take a couple of big gulps of air and blink hard. I check Chances’ rug, scratch his withers and tell him how much I love him and then I head inside. Hopefully Harry will be in a better mood once he’s eaten something. I know how much he loves his grub and if anything will cheer him up then it’s a big roast dinner.

  I pull my boots off, push the door open and pad into the kitchen. Dinner smells delicious and my mouth is already watering. Nobody is in sight though, unless you count Scally and Saffy who are slumbering by the Aga, and I hear voices drifting from the living room. It’s a room we hardly ever use since most of our time is spent outdoors or in the kitchen and I’m instantly curious. I can hear Kate and Harry and then a male voice I don’t recognize. It’s loud and brims with confidence and I pause by the door feeling unsure whether or not I should go in.

  “Amber?” Kate calls. “Is that you?”

  No wonder none of us ever gets away with anything. My foster mother must have ears on elastic. I give the door a push and am totally taken aback to find Malcolm Lacey sitting on the sofa, nursing a glass of brandy and looking as though he owns the place – which technically I suppose he does. Harry’s standing with his back to the fire and has his arms crossed. A small frown creases his forehead.

  What’s going on? Am I in even more trouble? I rack my brain for something I could have said to set Emily off again but, apart from beating her earlier, I draw a total blank.

  “Ah, here she is,” says Malcolm in a deep plummy voice when I step into the room. “Today’s winner.”

  He says winner like you’d say earthworm or toenail clippings or, and this is what I’d imagine he’s really thinking, council house oik who’s been bullying my daughter.

  “Chances won, not me. You must have been mad sending him to the market.” I can’t help myself. The words just spill from my mouth.

  “I agree,” says Malcolm smoothly. “You’re totally right, Amber. Selling Chances was a huge error of judgment and one I very much regret.” He swirls his drink and stares into it thoughtfully. “Call it the over reaction of a protective father if you like.”

  Personally I’d call it Emily being spoiled and petty. A horse isn’t a tennis racket; you can’t play with it for a bit and put it down or blame it when you lose and swap it for a new one. I can’t bear to think what might have happened if Harry hadn’t bought Chances at Hatherleigh Market.

  “I understand,” says Kate. “Any parent would feel the same.”

  I look from my foster mother to Malcolm. I have no idea what’s going on but something makes my stomach cartwheel.

  Malcolm inclines his head. He has a thick mane of salt and pepper hair and his face is red from the fire and the drink. Chunky legs are clad in tight olive cords, his salmon shirt bulges over his belt and I can’t help thinking that he really is a dead ringer for his namesake pig.

  “That’s very kind of you, Kate. I appreciate your graciousness in understanding that I wasn’t acting rationally at the time.”

  I glance at Harry but it’s still as though the shutters have come down.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  There’s a pause. Even the clock on the mantelpiece seems to stop ticking and hold its breath.

  Malcolm puts his drink down.

  “I think we may as well level with one another,” he says. “We all know Harry bought that horse for a song. What did you pay? A grand? Two maybe? You picked up a bargain all right, but then you knew that, didn’t you?”

  Harry regards him thoughtfully. “I bought an unwarranted horse from a market. A horse you sold because it was dangerous. As I recall it was a horse you couldn’t get shot of fast enough.”

  “I over reacted!” Malcolm splutters.

  “Maybe,” Harry agrees, “but even so I bought the horse on the open market. The way I see it, I took a massive gamble and so did Amber. From what you’ve said, and your trainer too, Chances could have broken her neck. He was sold as a dangerous horse.”

  At the mention of Drake, Malcolm’s face darkens and he shoots me a very ugly look.

  “Our trainer’s judgment’s been well and truly compromised. I hold Drake Owen totally responsible for the loss of a very valuable horse. Believe me, his future at the Rectory is certainly in question.”

  Harry should look pleased by this but he doesn’t so much as turn a hair.

  “What’s Drake done?” I demand.

  Apart from champion me, train me and totally defy his boss, of course.

  “He’s lost me a valuable horse. One that we can all see has the potential to go far with the right team and the right jockey. You did a good job today, my dear, but that was more down to luck than skill,” Malcolm says.

  What a patronizing git! And I thought social workers were bad. This guy makes Alan and Dogood look like amateurs.

  “Amber rode beautifully today,” Harry says firmly. I’m so relieved when he smiles at me that my legs go all wobbly. I hate it when we’re not friends.

  “That’s not in question,” Malcolm agrees.

  “Good,” says Harry. “So you’ll understand that as far as I’m concerned, she’s totally the right rider for Chances. The only rider. Drake Owen would say the same.”

  “I disagree, young man.” Malcolm reaches into the pocket of his pristine Barbour, pulling out a cheque book and an expensive fountain pen which he uncaps with a flourish. “Now, I’m prepared to put my money where my mouth is. What did you pay? Two grand, wasn’t it? I’ll double that. In fact, as a goodwill gesture, I’ll triple it. What do you say? Not a bad return on your
investment, eh?”

  Kate gasps. I think I probably do too. There’s certainly a weird buzzing in my ears and the room is going a bit swimmy and odd.

  “Six grand,” Malcolm declares, just in case we’re all too thick to do the maths. The fountain pen is poised and ready to write. “What do you say?”

  “I say you must want Chances very much,” says Harry.

  I feel sick. Six thousand pounds is a fortune. More than enough to send Harry to college. He bought Chances as an investment and that’s certainly paying off. This will be a no brainer for the Crewes.

  “Emily wants him. She knows she can do well with the horse and she regrets selling him,” Malcolm says. “I promised her I’d put this right. She’s very upset to have lost the horse.”

  Upset? Hardly! The truth is more along the lines of Emily can’t bear it that Drake’s been teaching me and she certainly can’t bear it that I’ve succeeded with a horse she couldn’t get on with. She doesn’t want Chances; she just wants to make sure I can’t have him.

  This is about getting at me. This is revenge.

  The pen hovers. Harry still says nothing. Kate is pale and I can see how tightly she’s holding Maddy’s hand. Six grand will solve a lot of her problems straight away. Maybe she can even send back troublesome foster children and have some peace and quiet? I want to rip the cheque book out of Malcolm’s meaty paw and throw it in the fire but this isn’t my decision to make. Chances isn’t my horse, is he? Not really. Chances belongs to Harry.

  “Look, how about I make it seven grand?” Used to striking deals, Malcolm applies a little more financial temptation. “That’ll cover any bills and also the work that’s gone into the horse while you’ve had it. It’s a generous offer and you know it makes sense.”

  “I guess I knew a sale was always coming at some point,” Harry admits. “I’ve never wanted a horse of my own and even if I did then a fifteen hand Arabian wouldn’t be my choice. You’re right, Malcolm. It’s time I sold him. Especially now we’ve all seen just how good he really is. Like you say, Chances just needs the right rider to take him forward.”