by Kate Lattey
I turn to the blue upright, and as we approach I look at the rustic on the other side, wondering how it can be possible to cut in front of it and still make it cleanly over the red and yellow oxer. Two strides out, I decide to trust Abby’s advice. We jump the upright and I open my right rein, turning Finn in mid-air. She isn’t expecting it and stumbles a little as she lands, but rights herself and I pull her around tightly in front of the rustic. We’ve made the turn, I can’t believe it, but now we have to get over the oxer. I push Finn on with my legs, sitting deep in the saddle and urging her on. She is surprised to see the jump so close, and hesitates for a fraction of a second, but I dig my heels into her sides and click my tongue to her, and she leaps bravely. Her back feet rattle the pole in its cups, but I don’t hear it fall. I circle her back to the left, jump the planks and then let her run on a little to the rustic oxer, the last fence on the course. She canters on boldly, taking long strides and stands off it, skimming over and racing for the finish flags. I sit up tall in the saddle and rein her in, beaming with pride. A few people clap as the announcer crackles.
“Four faults for Jay Evans and That’s Final in a very quick time. Next to jump, Tegan St Paul riding Nugget.”
I can’t believe it, and I turn to look over my shoulder at the people replacing the back rail of the rustic oxer. I didn’t even realise we’d hit it. I pat Finn as we ride out of the ring, and Abby is still standing by the side of the ring. She makes a face.
“Gutted! You were doing so well. Still, live and learn. She made that line and it must have sliced a big chunk out of your time.”
Tegan jumps the first clear round of the class on Nugget, even though he’s pulling like a steam train and she can’t take the tight line that I did. She stops the clock only just ahead of me, even with my four faults added as time. I walk Finn on a long rein for a while, keeping an eye on the rest of the riders in the ring. Jane, my friend from yesterday, jumps a fast clear, but doesn’t quite beat Tegan’s time, and Tegan is buzzing that she might win the class.
There’s another clear round but it’s very slow, and I overhear the rider admitting to her mother afterward that she had forgotten that it was a speed event until she was halfway around the course. Then a girl on a beautiful liver chestnut pony goes out and jumps a superb clear, coming home three seconds clear of Tegan. Finn doesn’t have a show of placing now, so I dismount and run up her stirrups, waiting for Alec to jump Dolly before walking back to the truck. He’s the last to go, and seems to be riding more steadily than I’ve come to expect from him in a timed round, but then I realise that he’s going to try to cut in front of the rustic too. Sure enough, he rides his line to the blue upright on an angle to perfectly place Dolly for the turn. She makes it without stumbling and jumps the red and yellow, but despite her best effort, the run-in is too short for her and she knocks the back rail down. Alec gets around the rest of the course clear, but he knows he’s out of the ribbons and jumps off the pony’s back as soon as he’s out of the ring.
“We have the results for Class 38. First, Sophie Hewitt on Westbrook Double Dare. Second, Tegan St Paul on Nugget. Third, Jane McPherson on Mr Nice Guy. Fourth, Jay Evans on That’s Final.”
I can’t believe it, and I stare at Abby in shock. She gives me a thumbs up.
“Told you you were fast.”
I tug down Finn’s stirrups and remount, ready to ride in for our first ribbon. I can’t get the wide grin off my face, and Tegan is smiling equally widely as she rides up to me on Nugget. We line up in front of the judge’s truck and a heavy-set woman walks out with a handful of ribbons, heading towards the excited liver chestnut at the head of the line.
“Your pony was awesome,” Jane tells me and I clap Finn’s neck proudly.
“Yours too,” I tell her. “I think we both improved from yesterday!”
“Definitely,” she concurs. “Though yesterday the faults were mine, not Elmo’s.”
The judge ties the yellow ribbon around her bay pony’s neck and congratulates her before turning to me.
“Well done,” she enthuses as she ties a narrow green ribbon around Finn’s arched neck. “That was really fast! Leave all the rails up next time and you’ll win easily.”
She passes me a small brown envelope of prize money which I shove in my coat pocket as I thank her. The liver chestnut leads us on a lap of honour, setting off at a frenzied canter and launching himself into a series of fly-bucks. Nugget, thrilled with the excuse to misbehave, follows suit, but Elmo canters steadily ahead of Finn so she behaves herself at the back of the line. I rub my hand down her neck, praising her, telling her how marvellous she was.
“Next time we’ll win,” I promise her rashly, full of confidence in our moment of glory.
The rest of the day passes in a blur of sunshine, sweat and endless jumping. Tegan and I jump in the metre class, and Finn knocks two rails down but I manage to keep her under control for the entire round, which is an achievement in itself. Tegan gets into the jump off, but tries to go too fast and Nugget takes three rails. Her mum is watching and starts up again about Tegan needing to get a decent pony if she’s going to carry on show jumping, because Nugget is holding her back from being “truly competitive”. Tegan is furious, and reckons she only knocked those rails because her mum was there watching her and putting her off. It doesn’t help that Lizzie won Champion Rider that morning and Hamlet cleaned up the Saddle Hunters, making Tegan’s single second place ribbon even less impressive in comparison to their wide sashes and shiny cups. Tegan gives Nugget a hug and tells him that she’ll never replace him with a fancy jumping pony, but I think we both know that the black pony’s days are numbered.
We spend the rest of the day wandering around the show grounds, watching lots of classes and stuffing ourselves with icecreams and hot chips. We see Natalie jump in the Championship on Spider, who is scrubbed spotless once again. She does an awful round, interfering with him in front of the jumps and making him miss his strides, so he doesn’t place. We make sure to avoid her and her mum for the rest of the day, instead sitting in the grandstand and cheering Abby on as she and Chuck manage to beat Steph in the Young Rider class.
The next event is the Pony Grand Prix, and as we watch it, Tegan turns to me with a look of utter determination on her face.
“I’m going to jump Nugget in a Grand Prix.” She’s dead serious.
“And when you do, I’ll jump Finn in it too,” I reply.
She spits into the palm of her hand and holds it out to me to shake. I pull a face, but she insists, so I spit carefully into my own palm and we shake on it.
“Now we have to do it,” she tells me.
“I’ll tell Finn,” I reply.
Honestly, I have my doubts that Nugget could jump that high, but I don’t want to say so to Tegan’s face. She probably doesn’t think Finn has a shot, but I beg to differ on that count.
Not long after that, Tegan’s mum arrives to drag her home, and I go back to the truck and help Alec get Jess and Lucky ready for their last class. I get on Lucky and warm him up. Although he has a mouth like iron and sometimes puts his head between his knees and tanks off, right now he feels like a quiet, well-schooled pony in comparison to Finn. That will change, I tell myself. One day in the future I’ll be able to look back on today and marvel at how far we’ve come.
A few minutes later I’m watching Alec canter Jess into the ring, his well-worn clothes and half-groomed pony incongruous compared to what has gone before. As usual he doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does, he doesn’t care. He has no spare time to think of anything but keeping his pony under control. I rein Lucky in and watch him. A woman by the railing nudges her friend and points to Alec’s pony.
“Crikey, take a look at that one. Looks like it just came off the meat truck. Shouldn't be much competition for Michaela.”
Her friend shakes her head. “You'd be amazed what that kid can get around a course. And that pony might look like death warmed up, but it can really jump.”
I feel smug for Alec even as I admit to myself that she’s right about Jess’s appearance. The fleabitten grey mare's short legs are slightly over at the knee, she has a Roman nose and a neck of solid muscle well-practiced at pulling her rider out of the saddle. Her head is up and a layer of sweat darkens her pale shoulders, but Alec’s holding his reins tight and he’s maintaining control. All the riders who have gone before on beautifully turned out, well-schooled ponies were merely passengers as their ponies jumped. Alec has harnessed the raw talent of his mare, her power barely held in check as the bell rings and he canters her around towards the first jump. Jess strains against the martingale as she charges towards the first fence and with one strong push off her hocks, flies over the jump with her knees tucked into her chest.
They jump clear over most of the course, with only the Liverpool and treble left to go. Jess doesn’t blink at the tray of water underneath the big white oxer and flies over, making up in air what she lacks in style or beauty. Only the treble to go now, and this tricky combination has been claiming scalps all afternoon. Jess jumps the first element, takes two strides, jumps again, another bold stride and they fly over the final spread. Alec canters through the flags and brings Jess back to a trot. Patting her sweating neck, he trots past Lucky and I standing ringside and I call out to him.
“Nice one!”
He grins at me, reins in one hand as Jess pulls hard against the bit, surging forward out of the ring. We swap ponies and I lead Jess around to cool her off before the jump-off. I keep catching glimpses of Alec across the ring, spinning Lucky between the jumps, urging him ever faster and higher. I hear a crash as a rail goes down and groan to myself.
“Don't you go doing that,” I tell Jess, giving the mare a pat. “It’s all down to you now.”
There’s something strange about this mare that I don’t quite trust - something wild in her eyes. Alec reckons she’s just misunderstood, a nice pony that wants to be good but has never been taught how. He’s always looking for the best in ponies, and in people. Me, I’m not so sure that I’d trust this pony not to break my back.
I see Alec trotting over to us and make a rueful face.
“I heard the rail,” I tell him.
“Yeah. Missed a stride on the turn and he took the long spot. Didn’t quite make it.”
He slides off the dark bay pony and tosses the reins to me, then swings easily onto Jess’s back. The grey mare is still wound up, swinging her head and pig-rooting as Alec finds his stirrups.
“There there,” he says with a casual slap on her neck. “Come on old girl, let’s show ’em all how it’s done.”
As Alec trots her away, I run up Lucky’s stirrups and loosen his girth before leading him back to the truck, where I strip off his tack and toss it up into the tack cupboard. I quickly wash Lucky over with a wet sponge, scrub him off with a towel and throw a sweat sheet over him, then give Finn a quick kiss before dashing back to watch Alec jump off.
It’s getting late. The metre-twenty pony class is the last of the day, the sun has dropped down in the sky and the shadows are lengthening around the horse trucks. I find Tabby by the ring and stand to watch with her. Alec is waiting at the gate, next to go. A tall girl on a dark bay pony jumps a very quick clear round to scattered applause.
Tabby shakes her head. “That’s going to be a tough one to beat. That pony’s fast.”
The loudspeaker crackles. “And a clear jump off in a time of 32.35 for Anneke Davies and Westbrook Double or Nothing puts them into first place. Next to go, Alexander Harrison on Jess.”
He comes into the ring now, nodding acquaintance to the girl as she trots out. Jess tosses her head against the control of the rein, fighting hard already. Alec has gloves on now, the previous round having left his fingers raw from Jess’s constant pulling.
He canters her around, then on hearing the bell ring, turns her between the start flags and they’re off. Tabby and I watch intently as he turns the mare left and right, skidding a little around the corners, taking lines no-one else has tried at a speed no-one else would dare. Jess swings her quarters tightly around the corner to the hay bales and takes off with less than one stride to lead her in. But she slips badly on take-off, and has to put in a huge effort to get over the fence. She hits the back rail and it clatters to the ground. The crowd groans and I follow suit, shaking my head and glancing over at Tabby. She looks worried, her eyes fixed on Alec, and I turn back to see Jess surging forward, fighting furiously against her rider. Her head is right up, straining against her martingale, her mouth open against the bit and her eyes rolling in her head. I feel a clench in my stomach, knowing how unpredictable and naughty the pony can be. Alec has to take charge, and fast. He yanks on the reins a couple of times, trying to get the wild mare back under control. Her head lowers, and as she sees the jump only two strides ahead of her she baulks. Alec takes a hand from the reins, ready to give Jess a good crack behind his leg if she thinks of refusing. She knows what that means, and increases her speed without him having to touch her, but her ears are pinned flat to her head and my heart is pounding in my chest.
For a moment it seems like she’s going to jump it, but at the very last second the pony changes her mind. Taking advantage of Alec only having one hand on the reins, she swings violently to the side, shifts back onto her hocks and charges forward, ducking around the jump stand. The crash resounds around the ring as Alec's left knee connects with the metal. My heart thuds hard in my chest as I watch the mad pony galloping around the ring. Alec’s fingers are slipping on the reins, and as the crazed mare dashes past us at ringside, I can see the intense pain written across his face. He’s struggling to pull the mare up, and yanks his left rein hard to upset her balance and slow her down. She turns, but now she’s heading straight for the Liverpool. It’s only a few feet away and she swerves again to avoid crashing into it. Caught off guard, Alec falls from the saddle and lands heavily on the ground, his head connecting with the side of the metal water tray under the jump.
I’m running across the ring with Tabby before I even realise that I’ve jumped the fence, both of us hoping like hell that Alec is okay. Jess is still tearing around the ring, now riderless, and a few helpful people on the sidelines have likewise vaulted the railing and are trying to stop her. I see all of this peripherally, my eyes only for Alec, who hasn’t moved since he hit the ground.
The paramedics get to him first, and keep Tabby and I back as they check him over. Very carefully, they move him into the recovery position and we all stand around, hearts in our mouths as we wait for Alec to regain consciousness.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
He’s not out for long. Groaning, he moves slightly, and I hear Tabby exclaim in relief. The paramedics allow her to come closer, but keep the rest of us back. They bring in a stretcher and insist on Alec lying on it. He barely argues, further evidence that he’s badly hurt. As they turn him to lie him on his back, I see the huge gash on his left cheek gushing blood, and my stomach churns. The paramedics are applying a gauze bandage to it as they carry him towards the ambulance. I can only stand and watch him go.
“Hey.” I turn to a tap on my shoulder. A man is holding the wild-eyed frothing mare by her broken reins. "Can you take the pony?"
I nod wordlessly, unable to say anything else, and lead Jess out of the ring. She’s still in a fury, pulling at the reins and sweating freely. I see then that the foam around her lips is coloured pink with blood, and my heart sinks further. The last thing we need is for the pony to be hurt too. I rub Jess’s sweaty neck as I lead her through the throng of waiting riders, craning their necks to see what has happened and complaining about the churned-up condition of the ground. I lead Jess past them in silence, and once we’re out of their way, run up her stirrups and slacken off her girth.
She’s still wound up, yanking at the reins and dancing sideways next to me all the way to the truck, grating on my nerves. As we approach the truck, my heart sinks to see Natalie walking towards me, w
ith the twins in tow as usual. Already changed from their flash riding clothes into designer jeans, the three girls are giggling as they walk. They stop when they see me, and I’m suddenly very aware that my jodhpurs are covered in sweat, dirt and horsehair. Jess keeps rubbing her head against my shoulder, leaving a trail of foam and blood down my arm. I summon up my courage and look Natalie in the eye as I approach, daring her to make the scathing comment I know is coming, but Amy speaks first.
“What happened? Did Alec fall off?"
"Is that what that crash was? Is he okay?" Sarah is talking now, and they all step into my path, demanding an answer. I keep walking and they are forced to move as I drag the ugly, maddened mare behind me. Wishing myself anywhere but here right now, I lead Jess past them without a word.
“That was rude,” I hear Sarah mutter behind me.
“I hope Alec’s okay,” Amy replies.
But it’s Natalie’s parting shot that sends a ripple of anger right through me. “If he’s stupid enough to ride ponies like that, he’s got to expect to have accidents.”
My ears burn as I hear that last comment, knowing that Natalie said it just loud enough for me to hear. I clench my fist on the reins as Jess, recognising her friends up ahead, drags me to her truck.
I untack the mare and wash her down, then throw a light sheet over her. Twilight is fast approaching and the temperature is dropping with the setting sun. I go to Finn and sling my arms around her neck, pressing my face into her hard, warm neck. I don’t know what to do. Tabby has gone to the hospital with Alec and there’s no-one to drive the ponies home. As I stand there, holding my pony tightly, I feel the tears starting to fall and bury my face deeper into my pony’s coat, trying to scrub the tears away in Finn’s mane. I feel my pocket vibrate as my phone starts to ring. I sniffle and compose myself as I pull it out and see Tabby’s number.
