Just Jack

by Adele Broadbent

  After sweeping the paths, scrubbing the back steps and weeding half the vegie garden, I stabbed the garden fork into the lawn and plopped down on a wooden bench. The rain was well gone and the winter sun had beamed down on me all afternoon. Wiping the sweat from my face, I downed the glass of ginger beer Mrs Davis had brought me earlier. Apprentice jockeys didn’t do gardens. It was the sort of thing Mum made me do at home. What I really wanted was to see the horses again. I shut my eyes, imagining riding one of them.

  ‘Hey! What are you doing lazing about?’ Mr Mac’s voice thundered down the yard. ‘Come on, boy — there’s work to be done!’ He marched alongside the house and through the gate to the stables. I scrambled to my feet and ran down the yard. Where had he been all afternoon?

  Mr Mac was waiting for me by the exercise yards, and waved me over. Finally I would get a good look at the horses! I peered through the high wooden yard-rails at a beautiful bay mare and a huge black gelding.

  ‘Better introduce yourself before we get them in,’ said Mr Mac, moving over to the gate. The horses ambled over towards his outstretched palm. The mare was less cautious than the gelding, and with a toss of her head and a snort she checked me out.

  ‘Hello there. I’m Jack.’ After a minute, she allowed me to rub her nose and scratch her up behind the ears.

  ‘Her name is Dazzle,’ said Mr Mac. ‘He’s Captain,’ nodding towards the gelding as he opened the gate. ‘They’re both three-year-olds.’

  Inside the yard, Captain approached me warily. He sniffed the air, looking me over, while Mr Mac passed me a lead rope. ‘Hello, Captain. You’re a big fellow.’ I stretched out my hand to him, then edged closer, clipping the rope to his halter. He towered over me, his black coat shining in the late afternoon sunlight. ‘Seventeen hands?’ I asked.

  A nod was my answer. I smiled up at Captain, thrilled at the thought of riding him. ‘Soon, boy, soon,’ I whispered, and couldn’t help grinning as I led him into his stall.

  I followed Mr Mac’s example and collected a night cover from the feed room, suddenly wondering where Kenny was. Helping Mrs Davis? Mr Mac watched me struggle past with the heavy canvas cover. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get it on Captain without some help, and scanned the stall for something to stand on. Uncle Onslow had always put on the covers at home.

  ‘Can’t even do that, eh?’ Kenny stepped into the stall and took the cover from me. He swung the blanket up over Captain’s back in one smooth motion, then pulled it straight, just as Mr Mac appeared at the stall door.

  ‘Jack. Final feed.’

  After feeding and watering the horses, we locked up for the night. Mr Mac led the way back to the house in silence. How much did he think I knew? Should I ask? No, I’d watch and learn as fast as I could. I was sure I could get the cover on with a bit of practice. If only Kenny hadn’t turned up.

  I lagged behind the others. My first day wasn’t anything like I’d expected. No one to meet me at the station. Running into Kenny — or to be exact, him riding into me. Strange Mrs Davis, and my quiet, stern boss. I latched the tin gate behind me. Maybe tomorrow would be better.

  Once again Mrs Davis did all the talking at the table. Mr Mac nodded every now and again, and Kenny pulled a face when they weren’t looking. When he shot me a friendly wink, I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  ‘C’mon, boy,’ said Mr Mac, after tea. He nodded towards the hallway. ‘Early starts around here.’

  The kitchen clock said half past seven — hours before I usually went to bed — but still I couldn’t help yawning. My arms and shoulders ached from sweeping, digging and lugging my suitcase from the station.

  ‘I’ll be in soon,’ said Kenny. ‘I’m used to getting up with the birds.’

  Outside our bedrooms, Mr Mac grumbled at me, ‘Better get a good sleep. Today was a holiday. You’ll start work tomorrow.’

  Chapter 4

  ‘Wake up.’

  I groaned. It felt like the middle of the night. I held my hand up against a sudden glare and peered blearily through half-shut lids.

  ‘Better get up,’ the voice said again.

  I sat up, realizing where I was, and rubbed my eyes. ‘What time is it?’

  Kenny pulled a jersey over his head. ‘Five o’clock.’

  Another groan brought a grin from my roommate. ‘Aw, poor Jack. Better run home to Mummy then.’

  I pushed my tangled mess of blankets aside and slid down off the bunk, just as the bedroom door opened.

  ‘Get dressed, make your bed, have a wash,’ ordered Mr Mac. ‘I’ll see you in ten minutes.’

  I nodded dumbly. Kenny laughed as I sank down on the bottom bunk, resting my chin in my hands. My head felt like a block of wood, and Kenny knew why.

  ‘Now you see why I don’t sleep in the bunks,’ said Kenny. ‘These help, too.’ He held out two dirty lumps of candle wax in his palm. ‘They do the trick. Shame I haven’t got any more. You’ll just have to sleep with your fingers in your ears.’ His laughter echoed down the hall when he left the room.

  How could anyone snore so loudly? My dad snored, but nothing like Mr Mac. There might as well have been no wall between us at all. Had I got any sleep? Maybe a little between tossing and turning. And now up at five! I stood wearily and dragged on my clothes, remembering Mr Mac’s instructions.

  Shivering down the dark hall to the bathroom, I sloshed my face with cold water. It washed away some of the drowsiness, and combing my hair made me look a bit better.

  When I sat next to Kenny at the kitchen table, Mr Mac plonked a mug of tea in front of me. ‘That’ll be the only decent cup of tea you’ll get all day,’ he said. ‘Mrs Davis insists on using her tiddly teacups,’ he added with a smile. The first proper smile I’d seen from him.

  A long sip of hot tea warmed my insides, and helped wake me up further. I wrapped my hands around the mug, soaking up the warmth. Mr Mac saw me look out the window at the dark.

  ‘Early start with racehorses, Jack. Got to be down at the track before it gets busy.’

  Phew. He’d called me Jack, instead of ‘boy’. It was going to be a better day, I just knew it.

  A few minutes later he downed his tea, grabbed his jacket and hat, and went out into the darkness.

  Kenny and I followed, pulling on our jackets. Any remaining drowsiness was slapped away by the crisp morning air. I shivered while I pulled my boots on, remembering I hadn’t been up this early since milking in Ormondville.

  Kenny raced off through the fence, leaving me to stumble along in the dark and latch the gate behind us. As I approached the stables, a soft glow crept through the gaps in the doors. The feed-room door was half-open.

  ‘Stop griping, boy,’ I heard Mr Mac say.

  ‘I didn’t know he’d be this green,’ muttered Kenny.

  ‘You’d never ridden a horse when I found you. Here’s a chance to earn your wages for once.’

  At the sound of their footsteps, I darted over to stand outside Dazzle’s stall and stuffed my hands in my pockets. Whistling, I stared up at the stars like I hadn’t heard a thing. I’d seen someone do that at the pictures once.

  They emerged in silence, each with a halter and a lantern. ‘C’mon, then,’ grunted Kenny, entering Captain’s stall. Inside, he didn’t look at me while he grumbled out instructions. ‘Halter on, then lead rope. Tie them here.’ He pulled the rope through a thick metal ring on the wall in the corner. ‘Follow me.’

  In the feed room, he scooped grain into a bucket with a small battered pot. ‘They get a mixture of oats and bran in the morning. Don’t forget.’ Back in the stall, he slid the bucket in behind a wooden rail in the corner and stepped back for Captain, who was eager for his breakfast.

  That wasn’t much different from what I’d learnt at home. So far, so good.

  ‘Finished?’ Mr Mac asked through the door. Kenny nodded and we washed up for breakfast.

  Later, back in the stables, Mr Mac and Kenny fetched a saddle each from the feed room. They were smaller tha
n a normal saddle, and when Kenny handed me one I was surprised at how light it was. He draped two folded towels over Captain’s back and gave me a nod. I swung the saddle up onto the horse.

  ‘Not there,’ said Kenny, rolling his eyes. ‘Further up his back, on his withers.’ He nudged me aside and adjusted it to just below Captain’s mane. ‘His bridle is with the rest of the tack.’

  In the feed room, Mr Mac passed me Captain’s bridle. ‘Tell Kenny to get a move on. We’re running behind.’

  As the two horses were led from their stalls, their covers back on, I looked from one to the other, wondering which I would get to ride. My stomach felt full of washday bubbles and I was trying hard not to grin like a kid with a boiled sweet.

  ‘Kenny, go and fetch the bike,’ said Mr Mac. When Kenny passed Captain’s reins to me, I beamed like an idiot. My first proper day of work and I get to ride Captain!

  When Kenny reappeared, he leaned the bike against the wall and gave Mr Mac a leg-up onto Dazzle. My grin evaporated when he stood next to Captain waiting for me to do the same.

  I watched them walk the horses down the drive, then looked back at the bike. Better than walking, I suppose.

  Early-morning birdsong twittered from the trees. The odd snort and steady clip-clopping of the horses’ hooves echoed between the dark houses. Surely I wouldn’t always be on the bike? Maybe we’d have turns.

  No one spoke on the short ride to the track, and soon I had my first sight of the racecourse. My heart beat faster riding through the wide entrance arch, and my skin tingled. This was the real thing. But no one else was on a bicycle. It was like waving a flag, telling everyone I was new. I quickly hopped off and wheeled the bike along behind Dazzle and Captain. A few people nodded, touching their hats.

  Kenny waved out to two boys standing with their horses outside the stalls. They waved, then stared at me.

  Mr Mac led the way to two stalls at the end of the row, and slid down off Dazzle. He turned her around and tied her bridle to the rail between the stalls, before pulling off her cover.

  The boys strolled over. ‘New stable-hand, Kenny?’ one asked.

  ‘Apprentice jockey,’ I answered, grinning at the sound of it.

  ‘Where have you been training?’

  Kenny smirked. ‘He only started yesterday.’

  ‘Kenny — get a move on,’ called Mr Mac. ‘Take Dazzle out. Three times round, half-pace.’

  I waited for my instructions. Would I be riding Captain?

  ‘Jack,’ barked Mr Mac. He pointed to the end of the stalls. ‘Put the bike over there.’

  Kenny rode Dazzle at a walk back along the stalls, out to the track, while Mr Mac stood talking to another man a few yards away.

  ‘Jack, is it?’

  I turned to face Kenny’s friends. ‘That’s right. Jack Baines.’

  ‘Percy,’ said one, holding out his hand.

  ‘Eddie,’ said the other. ‘You must be keen, working for MacKenzie.’

  ‘He’s as mean as they come,’ said Percy, nodding. ‘And that’s when he’s sober.’

  I shrugged. ‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ I answered, not really sure what they meant.

  ‘Hope so. We reckon Kenny’s mad staying.’ At the sight of Mr Mac returning, Percy tugged on Eddie’s sleeve, and they dashed back to their horses while I moved the bike.

  ‘Come with me,’ my boss ordered. Following him past the stalls, I glanced back at them. What did they mean? Mr Mac was a bit gruff, but he couldn’t be that bad.

  Just as we reached the rail circling the course, Kenny cantered past on Dazzle. I stared in awe. I’d always loved to see a horse run, their huge muscles powering them along, their tails flowing out behind. My most favourite thing in the world was to ride — fast. With the wind in my face, and the sound of hooves pounding a rhythm beneath me, feeling like part of the horse. ‘When do you gallop them?’ I asked.

  ‘Each horse is at different stages, depending on their next race,’ said Mr Mac, not taking his eyes off Dazzle. ‘Usually once or twice a week.’

  I wanted to know more — everything there was to know. Especially when it would be my turn. But I already knew Mr Mac wasn’t one for speeches.

  Kenny brought Dazzle in after her three laps, her coat wet with sweat, her eyes wide and excited. Mr Mac approached her slowly, and patted her on the neck. ‘Good girl.’ He looked up at her rider. ‘Same with Captain. Take Jack with you.’

  Kenny nodded and walked Dazzle back, ignoring me as I trailed behind.

  Back at the stalls, he climbed on the rail between the horses and onto Captain. ‘You know how to rub down a horse?’

  ‘Of course,’ I lied. I thought I could remember what I’d seen around me that morning and what I’d learnt from Uncle Onslow.

  ‘She’s all yours.’

  OK, I thought. I can do this. I’d show Kenny I wasn’t as green as he thought. Unbuckling the saddle was easy, and I balanced it on the stall’s centre rail as I’d seen others doing. I reached up and peeled the towels off Dazzle’s back. Her skin twitched as cool air raced across her body. She was still jittery after her training, so I stroked her neck, talking softly, until she calmed a little. With one of the towels folded into a square, I rubbed her down, soaking up the sweat. Uncle Onslow had told me a dozen times how easily a horse could catch a chill. I hung the damp towel next to the saddle and finished drying her with the other towel.

  When it was time to put the saddle back on, Kenny reappeared on Captain. ‘I’ll do that. You rub down Captain,’ he said, louder than he needed to, winking at Percy and Eddie close by.

  Captain’s coat glistened with sweat and the veins bulged on his sleek black legs. He skipped about as I turned him around in his stall, but he soon calmed as I rubbed him down slowly, all the while talking to him. Kenny raised an eyebrow as he did up Dazzle’s saddle straps.

  With Captain being bigger, it took me longer to rub him down. I finally reached for his saddle.

  Kenny interrupted again. ‘Here, I’ll show you how to put it on.’ When I stood back to watch, he nudged me forwards. ‘No, you’re doing it. Make sure the saddle is in the right position. On the withers, remember?’

  ‘You don’t have to shout,’ I muttered, trying to ignore the stares from Kenny’s mates.

  His voice dropped a little. ‘The towels need to be smooth under the saddle, and then do up the girth straps.’ I knew that. But if I was to learn from him, I had to keep my mouth shut. I reached under Captain for the strap and buckled it up.

  Mr Mac appeared behind us. ‘All done?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Mac.’

  ‘Let’s be off then.’

  Kenny gave him a leg-up on Captain, then swung himself up onto Dazzle. I couldn’t help staring. Kenny wasn’t much bigger than me, maybe five foot, and he hadn’t used a rail or anything. I’d have to learn that trick.

  I ran back to fetch the bike and, as I caught up, Mr Mac suddenly let out a roar. He waved one arm awkwardly for balance, sliding sideways off Captain. The gelding skipped in fright, bumping into Dazzle. My mouth gaping, I watched Mr Mac slip even further. He hung onto the reins, struggling to regain his balance. Just when I was sure he’d fall, he flicked his leg over, landing clumsily on his feet.

  Time stopped. He spun around to face me, looking like thunder.

  Chapter 5

  ‘Who did up this saddle?’

  My heart nearly stopped when Kenny slowly turned to stare at me. Many more stares settled on me, the only sound the horses’ hooves on concrete. No one spoke as Mr Mac led Captain back to the stall, the saddle hanging off sideways.

  My knuckles white on the handlebars, I stood in disbelief. Had Kenny set me up?

  ‘Boy! Here — now!’ I flinched and scurried over.

  ‘Kenny was right,’ Mr Mac mumbled, ‘you are green. When you do up the girth straps, watch for the horse puffing out its stomach. I could’ve broken my bloody neck!’

  Mr Mac ignored the chuckles as we left the stalls. I stared at th
e ground all the way to the gates, and willed it to split open and swallow me whole when someone called out, ‘Got a winner apprentice there, Mac!’

  We rode home in silence, my face burning in shame.

  I leapt off the bike at the stables, seething at Kenny’s dirty trick.

  ‘Right,’ said Mr Mac. ‘Kenny, do Dazzle and I’ll do Captain. Jack, come with me.’

  ‘But—’ said Kenny, nodding at me.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  My stomach taut like a knot, I followed Mr Mac into Captain’s stall. I tensed, waiting for the blasting. He didn’t say a word.

  For the next hour he showed me how to ‘dress’ a horse. First, cleaning around his eyes and nostrils with a soft cloth. Then I had to clean his backside with a wet rag. I hadn’t done that before. I remained on edge, not wanting to set Mr Mac off.

  Still nothing was mentioned while he showed me which brushes to use for Captain’s tail and mane, and which to use for his entire body. ‘And to finish,’ he instructed, ‘you wipe him down with another folded towel, like a final polish.’

  I was surprised at how kind Mr Mac was with his horse. He was a different man, gentle even. I concentrated on everything he told me, determined to make up for the morning.

  ‘Cover,’ he said when we’d finished.

  ‘Dazzle’s done,’ called Kenny over the stable door. Mr Mac gave a nod and led Captain out, handing the lead rope to Kenny. ‘Put him in his yard,’ he ordered. When Kenny was out of earshot, he turned and glowered down at me. ‘If you ever make a fool of me again, you’ll get the sack. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Mac,’ I croaked, feeling the colour drain from my face.

  ‘Muck out both boxes.’

  By the time I’d done Captain’s box, my stomach was growling nearly as loudly as Mr Mac. Getting up so early, even with a big breakfast, sure made a difference. I’d just started Dazzle’s box when something blocked the sunlight streaming through the doorway.