Clearwater Bay 1- Flying Changes

by Kate Lattey

  Tabby sighs. “Oh, you know. Not great, but he’ll get over it eventually.”

  I set my jaw and turn to tighten Finn’s girth. I like Tabby a lot, but I still can’t understand how she makes statements like that. She ought to stand up for her son more, and stop letting his dad be such a bully. Maybe she’s scared of him too, I muse to myself as she says goodbye and heads back to the house. I’ve always thought of her as being a strong woman, but she doesn’t seem to have the spine to fight back against her husband’s iron fist.

  I ride down the shortcut and canter along the grass verges to Tegan’s. She’s waiting at the gate on Nugget, and I can hear her yelling at her mother from halfway up the road.

  “Oh good, you’re here. Let’s go.” Her mum is still yelling something at her, but she kicks Nugget into a canter and we book it down the road.

  “What was that all about?” I ask her later as we trot along the roadside.

  “Oh, she’s just being a cabbage as usual. Mothers are so over-rated,” she grumbles, then looks at me guiltily. “Oh no, sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  “I know what you meant,” I reassure her. “I used to argue with my mum a lot too.”

  “You don’t talk about her much,” Tegan comments quietly.

  “I think about her a lot,” I confess. “Sometimes I can’t believe that she’s really gone. I mean, I know she’s dead, but it’s hard to believe that I’m going to grow up and get married and have kids, and that she’s never going to get to see any of that.”

  Tegan nods and we ride on in silence. “It must suck,” she says after a while.

  I know how deeply she means that. “Yeah. It does. It doesn’t help that my dad and I don’t exactly get along.”

  Tegan looks surprised. “I thought you got on fine. You don’t fight or anything.”

  “You can’t fight with him,” I tell her. “He doesn’t get angry or yell or anything. If he gets really mad, he just goes for a walk.”

  “Wow. It must be peaceful at your house.”

  “I guess. Sometimes I wish…” I break off. “It’s stupid.”

  “You can’t be wishing that he’d fight with you,” she tells me. I nod and she looks incredulous. “Okay, that really is stupid. I hate fighting with my mum, but I can’t help it when she’s so annoying.”

  “But at least you know she cares enough to bother arguing back,” I respond.

  “I’m sure your dad cares about you,” Tegan replies. “Maybe he just sucks at showing it.”

  “That’s what I thought at first,” I admit. “But the longer I’ve been here, the less he’s even tried to talk to me. Every now and then he gets a guilty conscience and tries to cook a real dinner or asks me how my day was or something, but most of the time it’s like he’s not even there.”

  “It could be worse,” Tegan tells me. “You could have a dad like Alec’s.”

  “That would be way worse,” I agree. “But I wouldn’t put up with it. I can see why his brother left home. I don’t get why Tabby doesn’t divorce him.”

  “Maybe she loves him,” Tegan suggests.

  “How could you? He hits Alec, you know.”

  Tegan looks shocked. “You should report him. That’s supposed to be illegal.”

  “Bet it wouldn’t stop him,” I reply grumpily. “He’s crazy.”

  “Well then someone should shoot him,” Tegan mutters as the ponies walk keenly onto the beach. We pick up our dangling reins and set off at a fast canter. Within moments Finn is racing ahead of Nugget. I lean forward, burying my fingers in her flying mane, the wind roaring past my ears. I forget about all of my troubles as we gallop on up the beach, being one with my pony, enjoying the ecstasy of speed.

  Tegan is naturally horrified to discover that we are attending a dressage rally. She races off to complain to the head instructor about having been tricked into it, but is simply told that if she doesn’t like it, she can go home. Unable to convince me to ride home with her immediately, Tegan rides off to find her mother and complain to her. I wait with the rest of our usual group, listening idly as Natalie gushes about her new jumping instructor, who has apparently “totally fixed” Spider.

  “He’s going so well now,” she blabbers on. “And Amanda reckons that on a good day, he’ll be almost unbeatable in the show hunter ring.”

  I roll my eyes as Amy rides over to me on a solid dark bay pony that I haven’t seen her on before. It turns out to be Sputnik, finally recovered from his hock injury. He’s an attractive pony, although he looks slightly ridiculous in bright pink tendon boots, his owner’s love affair with pink compromising his masculinity somewhat.

  “Look, Spud’s all better,” Amy grins as Finn lays her ears back and tries to bite him. “So we should make it to at least one show before the season is over. Bee is riding Topaz today, so watch out for her running loose around the grounds.”

  Our lesson today is with Hannah Brodie, the dressage instructor that we had a few weeks ago. She starts by checking that our tack is clean and that our ponies are properly groomed. Everyone else passes with flying colours, but then she gets to Finn, who is sweaty and covered in sand. I explain to Hannah that I rode her here, and she looks impressed.

  “Good for you, that’s quite a ride. Your pony must be very fit,” she says with a small smile. “Full marks for effort,” and she jots down a series of 10s in her notebook. The look on Natalie’s face is priceless, but we are distracted by the sudden arrival of Tegan on her little sister’s pony Hamlet.

  “Maddie fell off the float ramp and twisted her ankle, so Mum’s making me ride Ham in this stupid lesson,” she explains sullenly.

  Hannah lets us warm up on our own for a while before working with each of us individually for a few minutes. She encourages me to sit more quietly and keep Finn flexed to the inside, reminding me to keep my elbows bent and my thumbs facing up so that I have greater flexibility through my arms. I work hard, listening intently to her guidance, and by the end of the lesson Finn is feeling much smoother and more responsive. I thank Hannah for her time, but she brushes off the praise.

  “No problem, happy to help. Your pony improved a lot.”

  “Thanks. She’d be even better if I knew what I was doing. I can get her going nice when I’m having a lesson, but on my own it’s impossible.”

  “It’s hard,” Hannah agrees. “It doesn’t help that she’s green too, it’s a bit like the blind leading the blind. But you’re making good progress with her, just keep up the schooling and in a few months you won’t know yourselves.”

  “Thanks,” I reply, getting excited by the thought before I remember. “But I’m moving back to England in a couple of weeks, so I won’t be able to.”

  Hannah frowns. “That’s a shame, just when you’re working it out with the pony. Is she on the market now?”

  I nod, feeling suddenly weird about it. It’s one thing to decide to sell Finn, and quite another to think of someone else riding her.

  “She’s a very nice pony,” Hannah says. “I’ll keep an eye out for anyone I know that’s looking.”

  I thank her again before trotting off to catch up with Tegan, who is almost back at her float by now.

  “That was a snoozefest,” she grumbles. “There’s not even any challenge in riding this pony, you just sit there while he does it all for you.”

  Tegan ties Hamlet up quickly and untacks him, then throws a sheet over his back.

  “Get Mum to wash him down,” she tells Maddie, who is sitting in their car reading a magazine, her foot strapped up with a tail bandage. Tegan flings Nugget’s tack on and mounts up.

  “Let’s go before Mum gets here and tells me I’m not allowed to ride home.”

  We start trotting back down the rally grounds past some groups who are still riding. Lizzie is cantering Tish in large circles to loud praise from her instructor. We try to make it past without Tegan’s mum seeing us, but Amy is standing nearby watching her little sister ride Topaz. She sees us going past and waves.
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  “See you later Jay! Bye Tegan!”

  “Tegan!” Her mother has seen us. “Come back here, you’re not riding that pony all the way home.”

  “Dammit,” Tegan mutters. “Why does Amy have to be so friendly?”

  I laugh as Tegan stops Nugget and starts arguing with her mother. I ride over to Amy and watch Bee trot around on Topaz, who is looking very calm and relaxed.

  “She looks good,” I mention.

  “Beginner’s luck,” Amy replies cheerfully. “The Spaz will buck her off soon.”

  Tegan comes haring over to me. “Let’s go. Quick.”

  Her mum is still yelling at her but we trot quickly off to the gate, pretending not to hear her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I’m entered in one final show before I go back to England, a big show jumping event in Tauranga. It’s my last chance to do well on Finn, and now a measure of success has become even more important because she’s up for sale. I’m hoping to make a profit on her since at the very least, she’s fit and in much better health than she was when I bought her.

  Tegan is amped up for the show, and is unable to talk about anything else all week. She’s even more excited because it’s all show jumping, so her sisters aren’t going and she’s coming up with us in the Harrisons’ truck. Alec’s only taking Dolly and Lucky, as Trixie caught a leg in the fence last week and needed stitches, so there’s a space in the truck for Nugget. Tegan hacks him over the night before, and we all stay at Alec’s on Friday night. Much to my relief, Liam is away down South for a couple of weeks, staying with his cousin.

  We make our own pizzas for dinner, and Alec stacks his with about four layers of ham, a sprinkling of cheese and then smothers it in tomato sauce. Tegan rummages through the fridge and comes up with an insane concoction that includes pineapple, broccoli and leftover shepherd’s pie – this after spreading a combination of Vegemite and chilli sauce on the base. I play it safe and opt for plain cheese.

  “You have no sense of adventure,” Tegan accuses me.

  I stick my tongue out at her. “I just want mine to be edible.”

  “Mine’s totally edible. Look,” and she stuffs a slice into her mouth and mumbles through the food. “Derishus.”

  I shudder and glance at Alec for backup, but he ignores me. We still aren’t talking much, and while we’re civil to each other, we’re far from being the good friends we were. It sucks, but just makes my decision clearer. The sooner I get away from all this, the better it’ll be for everyone.

  Tegan rolls her eyes and swallows her disgusting pizza. “Seriously, can’t you two just kiss and make up? Your dramas are driving me crazy.”

  Alec turns the TV on, and I lean back into the couch and stare at the screen. We ignore her.

  I sleep badly, but that could be in part because this house is the noisiest place I’ve ever slept, creaking and crackling all night long. It doesn’t seem to bother Tegan, who would sleep through a nuclear holocaust, but I’m tossing and turning all night. Finally 5 a.m. rolls around and the alarm goes off. I’m up and dressed quickly, kicking Tegan awake as I leave the room. She groans and flaps an irritated arm at me.

  “Get up or we’ll leave you behind, and Nugget will never forgive you,” I tell her.

  In the kitchen Tabby is wearing her ancient pink dressing gown and Alec is sitting at the table shovelling scrambled eggs into his mouth. He ignores me, but his mum greets me warmly and asks if I slept well. I lie. Alec disappears out the door without even looking at me, and I take his place at the table as Tabby dumps a plate of eggs in front of me. I pick at them, preferring to sip slowly at a cup of hot milky tea. I can never eat much on the morning of shows, despite Tabby’s constant efforts to fill me up. Fifteen minutes later there’s still no sign of Tegan, so I go to rouse her out of bed. I have to bash her with a pillow, strip off her blankets and literally roll her off the camp stretcher before she finally starts yelling at me.

  “Fine, I’m up, I’m up!”

  “Are you always this lazy?”

  “You should see me on school mornings,” she mumbles, slowly getting to her feet.

  “No school today. We’re going show jumping! Woohoo fun!” I remind her and she grins.

  “You had me at no school.”

  “Eggs on the table. Hurry up!”

  I give her one last kick for good measure, dodge the pillow she hurls at me on my way out of the room, yell to Tabby that Tegan has finally crawled out of bed, and head out to the paddock to catch Finn.

  Almost an hour later, the ponies are all loaded on the truck and we’re finally ready to go. Alec and Tegan have been cheerfully bickering all morning, and they jump into the accommodation as Tabby starts the truck. I ride in the cab with Tabby, tired of Alec giving me the silent treatment.

  “Do you think you two can bury the hatchet before you leave?” Tabby asks as we drive down the valley.

  “It’s not me that won’t talk to me,” I tell her sullenly.

  She smiles wryly. “He’s stubborn, like his father.”

  I clench my jaw and try not to think about that comparison. “Aren’t you mad? You know, at Liam, for what he did?”

  “To the pony?” Tabby glances at me. “There’s more to that story than you probably realise.”

  “You mean about how his brother got killed in a riding accident?” Tabby looks surprised. “Pip told me. That doesn’t make it right.”

  “It makes it understandable,” she replies. “He thought it was the right thing to do. To be honest, I didn’t like that pony much myself. Had a touch of the devil in her, as my Gramps would’ve said. I notice you never got on her.”

  I bite my lip and stare out the window. “Well. No. But that doesn’t make it okay to have killed her. I just…I don’t see how Alec can just forgive his dad for doing something like that.”

  “There’s no weakness in forgiveness,” Tabby tells me. “You can’t go through your life burdening yourself with anger and hatred for things you have no control over. It’s going to take Alec a while to really forgive his father, but he’s trying. And you’re making it harder for him.”

  I frown. “I’m not leaving because of that.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No! I miss my home, I miss my friends. I miss…a lot of things.”

  “Don’t you think you might miss this?” Tabby asks.

  I look out the window as we drive up the hill and out of Clearwater Bay. The sun is edging over the horizon ahead of us, sending shafts of golden light out across the rolling hills and making the ocean sparkle in the distance.

  I find myself smiling. “Maybe a little.”

  I can see the McLeods’ truck pulling out of their driveway, and the Westcotts’ float is already halfway down the road towards us. Just another show morning in the Bay.

  “I’ll come back and visit,” I tell Tabby, but we both hear the emptiness in that promise.

  The steward’s voice rings out across the warm-up area as I work Finn in. That dressage lesson really worked wonders, because for the first time she’s actually behaving herself at a show, listening to my aids and coming back to me when I ask her to. I put her over the practice jump a couple of times, and she’s still rushing in a bit quick, but she feels much more controlled. I think back to our first show and start to realise just how far we’ve already come.

  “We’re ready to start Class 13, Pony 90cm AM5.”

  The announcer reads out the starting order and I’m third to go, so I take Finn over the practice jump a couple more times then walk her on a loose rein over to the gate. A girl on a grey pony is trotting out of the ring with eight faults and a boy on a Roman-nosed bay rides in. I assure the steward that I know I’m next as Amy rides up next to me on Topaz.

  “You got your pony back,” I comment. “Did she buck your sister off then?”

  Amy pulls a face. “No. she’s been perfect for her so far, which is so annoying because it’s making Bee’s head swell up to twice its usual size. It’s
just a matter of time though. Topaz is lulling her into a false sense of security. We were already entered here, so Bee’s having her last show on Pan and this is my swansong on the Spaz.”

  I listen with half an ear as I watch the boy’s pony knock the last two jumps down, then close my legs around my pony’s sides.

  “Next to go, Jay Evans riding That’s Final.”

  I trot Finn into the ring and circle her near the start flags, pushing her into canter as I hear the bell ring. She fizzes with excitement as she hears the bell, and I tighten my reins and speak softly to her.

  “Easy there girl. Take your time.”

  The sun is baking down already and I’m starting to sweat in my riding coat. I take a deep breath, inhaling the warm smell of dry grass already being flattened by ponies’ hooves. I run a hand down Finn’s glossy neck. She too is already sweating, but we’re both ready to go.

  One more circle, getting her steady, and then we turn and canter through the start flags. The first fence is a green and white oxer and she pricks her ears and flies over. I sit up between the jumps and steady her stride, and again she comes nicely back to me. Four, three, two, one and over the blue and yellow upright. Now a left hand turn to a square oxer, easily over that and cantering on to the picket fence with a black and white pole on top. Finn backs off slightly at the sight of the picket and I wrap my legs around her sides and squeeze her on.

  “Come on, you can do it,” I assure her under my breath.

  She gets in a bit close and takes a big leap over it, almost unseating me, but she doesn’t touch the pole. I organise myself as we turn right and jump the planks, then canter on strongly to a wide oxer. The filler has bright pink flying pigs painted on it, which Tegan had baulked at when we walked the course.

  “Nugget’s never going to jump that!” she’d gasped.

  I’d felt inclined to agree, but Alec had been unfazed.

  “Chin up, it’s a rider frightener. The ponies don’t care what’s painted on it.” He’d patted Tegan reassuringly on the shoulder. “Be brave.”