Clearwater Bay 1- Flying Changes

by Kate Lattey

  “Dorian is mental and she can’t control him. She’s scared of him too. But you can’t say anything bad about him or she’ll pitch a fit.”

  I can believe it, looking across at Emma’s pinched face. I walk into the school and slap Becky on the leg.

  “C’mon, my turn.”

  She hesitates. “Mum said I shouldn’t let you,” she admits. “She’s paying heaps for Rio to be professionally schooled, and Kim says that I shouldn’t let anyone else ride him so that he has consistent training. I’m sorry.”

  I stare at her. “Are you serious? Come on, I’m not going to do any harm. I’ll just have a little trot and canter,” I assure her.

  Dawn rides over to me and halts her pony. “You can ride Twink if you want.”

  Becky leaps on that. “Thanks Dawn! Sorry Jay, I really can’t let you ride Rio, but you can have a go on Twink.”

  I stare at the hairy, sleepy cob. “No thanks. I wanted to have a sit on Rio, to see how different he feels from what he used to be like.” My disappointment is making me choke up, and I look imploringly up at my best friend. “Please?”

  She gives in, just as I knew she would. She doesn’t like it when people get upset, which had made it difficult right after my mum died, because I’d been crying and upset all the time, and it had made her very uncomfortable. Nobody in her family really expresses their emotions much except to yell at one another, so Becky is forever attempting to keep the peace. All I’d wanted, a few months ago, was a shoulder to cry on, but Becky had kept trying to cheer me up, as if there was anything she could’ve done to make it all better. The tension between us had kept escalating until I’d learnt that I was being sent to New Zealand. I wonder if we’d even still be friends if I hadn’t left.

  Becky slides reluctantly from Rio’s back as I fasten my helmet. “Don’t do too much with him, okay?” she fusses. “Just let him go around on a loose rein. Don’t try and school him or anything.”

  I get on from the mounting block, which seems as awkward now as mounting from the ground had done my first few times. Rio stands still and quietly, and I lengthen the stirrups a couple of holes then nudge him into a walk. It takes a lot more leg to get him going and to keep him walking around the school than it did to ride Finn, although I suppose if she’d been ridden around in controlled circles in an enclosed arena every day rather than galloped over the hills, she might be a bit dull to the leg as well.

  I feel like a clumsy rider on this pony. His neck is short and he’s poky and slow, especially in comparison to Finn’s elegant neck and long swinging stride. I shift my weight to the left and touch the left rein, but he walks on straight, seemingly not feeling my aids. It takes much stronger commands to convince him to turn across the ring. I get to the wall and pick up a trot. His stride is short and quick, and he takes a hold on the reins, trying to pull against me. As we circle at C, he leans in like a motorbike going around a corner, and I’m surprised by how unbalanced he is. I check him with the reins, trying to get him to relax his jaw and stop trying to tow me around. Fortunately I’ve spent enough time riding Nugget to have a basic idea of how to get a pony off the rein, and after a few circles Rio stops holding himself against me so much. His stride steadies and he starts moving forward straighter. I ask him into canter and he goes into the bounciest, shortest striding canter I’ve just about ever sat on. It’s even more absurd than Trixie’s pogo stick impersonation, and having become so used to Finn’s smooth gliding canter, I feel like I’m going up and down on the spot rather than forwards. I lose both stirrups and end up clanging about in the saddle feeling totally useless. He’s so bouncy it’s impossible to regain my stirrups, so I just stretch my legs down long and ride without stirrups. I push him on and ask him to lengthen, and he does one or two reasonable strides before Becky yells out at me to stop.

  “You’d better finish there,” she tells me. “Emma says that Kim is coming this afternoon and she’ll kill me if she sees you riding Rio.”

  I pull him up and pat him before returning to Becky.

  “What did you think though? Hasn’t he improved miles?” she asks enthusiastically as I dismount

  I don’t want to hurt her feelings. “I don’t really remember what he was like before, I didn’t ride him that often. He felt a bit unbalanced,” I add, being honest.

  Becky looks at me sharply. “You were on the left rein,” she replies. “That’s his awful rein.”

  I nod, backing down as she organises me to help her put a couple of jumps up. I lean on the fence and watch the other girls spend several minutes putting their ponies over the low fences. Rio has a nice jump but he tends to rush his fences and Becky chases him into the jumps the way I’d used to, before Abby had corrected me. I decide to pass along Abby’s advice.

  “Don’t push him on so hard,” I tell Becky as she trots over to me. “You just need to get a nice canter and then let him take you to the jump. That way he’ll get a better stride and he won’t rush so much.”

  Becky looks dubious, and Emma scoffs at me as she rides past on her grey.

  “He’ll stop if she doesn’t ride him into the jump,” she tells me, and Becky agrees.

  “Finn didn’t,” I tell her. “It worked brilliantly with her when she was rushing her fences like that. It’s what Abby Brooks told me to do, and she’s one of the best riders in New Zealand so she should know.”

  Emma is looking at me in disbelief, but Becky has read all of my emails about Abby and agrees to give it a shot. She trots Rio around and then canters him towards the jump. He accelerates and I tell her to sit still and wait for the jump. She freezes, becoming tense and rigid, and Rio gets distracted and chips into the base of the jump, lurching over awkwardly.

  “That didn’t work,” Emma tells me snottily.

  I ignore her and tell Becky to try again, but to stay relaxed. This time she sits so loosely in the saddle that Rio ducks out of the jump at the last minute and it takes her two full circuits of the ring to bring him back under control. After that, nobody listens to what I have to say, and I give up, letting them make their own mistakes.

  After Dorian finally gets over a three foot rail without knocking it down – purely by virtue of his own talent rather than anything Emma is doing to help – the girls decide to go out for a hack. Dawn is getting picked up in ten minutes, but she very kindly offers to let me ride Twink out onto the common with the others. I mount the wide hairy pony and give her a pat. She seems like a sweet mare and was jumping gamely – if without much style – over the low fences. I let the stirrups down a couple of holes and see Kayla coming towards the school, leading a grey mare in lunging gear.

  “Shouldn’t we put the jumps away?” I ask Becky.

  “Dawn will do it,” Emma says quickly. “You don’t mind, do you Dawn?”

  Dawn assures us that she doesn’t mind at all as I follow the girls out the gate, feeling embarrassed.

  Kayla grins at me as I pass her. “Having a nice ride?” I tell her that I am, well aware that Dawn is still in earshot, then trot Twinkle up behind the other two. Becky glances over her shoulder at me.

  “Poor Jay, having to be seen in public riding that!”

  “She’s okay,” I reply, feeling sorry for the pony. “She’s no oil painting, for sure, but she’s sweet.”

  “What’s she like to ride?” Emma asks.

  “Wanna swap and you can find out?” I reply, knowing what her answer will be, and sure enough, she gives me a frosty glare.

  “No way, I wouldn’t be seen dead on that pony. I really wish Dawn would get a new pony, or stop riding with us. One or the other. It’s embarrassing.”

  She pushes Dorian into a fast trot, and Rio bounds along next to him. Twinkle seems ambivalent to her surroundings and wanders along behind, waiting for me to ask her to trot on before she picks up the pace. She moves steadily and without any of Finn’s spooking and shying, or nagging at the bit. For the first few strides, it’s nice to be able to relax and enjoy the ride, but it’s no
t long before I start feeling bored. I niggle at Twinkle with my heels, trying to elicit some response, but the most I get is a vaguely irritated flattening of her ears. I wish I was riding Finn. I imagine myself trotting along on Finn, her coppery neck arched and her short mane ruffling in the wind. If I concentrate, I can feel her stride beneath me, long and straight and sure, and can see the delicate curve of her small ears, pricked forward in excited anticipation. If I was riding Finn, I’d be up alongside Becky, keeping up easily, my seat relaxed in the saddle and hands light on the reins. Not bouncing along behind her like a kid who’s only just learnt to rise to the trot. I can see Finn so clearly in my mind – the slight dish of her face, her silky forelock hanging over her perfect white star, her dark intelligent eyes and wide fluttering nostrils. I miss her horribly, and wonder how she’s getting on in Stratford, and if she’s being good for Claudia. I hope she is going to love her as much as I still do.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “You’ve really changed,” Becky says, later that night. I swivel in the computer chair and look at my friend in surprise. We are back at her house and have showered and changed our clothes, as Becky’s mum can’t abide the smell of horses. Becky is carefully straightening her hair before we go out to see a movie tonight, and I’m logging on to my email while I wait.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know.” She flips a strand of flattened hair over her shoulder and grabs another handful. I think about Tegan with her long perfectly straight hair, and how much she complains about how thick it is and threatens to shave it all off. Nobody, it seems, is ever totally satisfied with their looks.

  Becky goes on. “You’re like a completely different person from what you used to be. You’re much more confident and sure of yourself.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?” I ask her as I turn back towards the computer screen. I can see her reflection as she shrugs.

  “I guess so. It’s just different. I feel like I don’t really know you anymore.”

  I look at her as she continues to bake her hair into submission. “I feel the same way about you,” I admit. She raises her eyebrows as I gesture around the room. “This room is completely different from what it used to be. It used to be all ponies and stuff on the walls.”

  “It’s called growing up,” Becky tells me.

  I shrug and turn back to the screen as my email loads. I have four new messages. Two from Tegan, one from Dad, and one from Claudia. I start with that one.

  Hi Jay

  Hope you’re having fun in England. Finn’s good, her jumping has improved heaps. I had a lesson on her with my instructor Chrissy Cameron today, she liked her a lot and says we should def buy her. She wanted to see how big Finn could jump so we whacked them up quite high and she jumped 1.30m!! Which was pretty huge!! I was a bit nervous but Finn just flew over it! Mum’s still not sure on the price because she needs heaps of schooling and we are a bit short on change at the moment, but I’m sure we will figure something out. Dads got some big business deal coming up so he should be raking it in soon enough and he might as well share the haul with me!! Pickles is good, although I think he is getting jealous of Finn because he is always waiting at the gate for me to ride him. Aww! He doesn’t want to be retired yet. We have an A&P show this weekend, I’m taking Finn to see how we get on. I’ve entered her in the metre classes. I’ll let you know how she goes!

  Keep in touch, hope you’re enjoying England :)

  C.

  I try to be happy that Finn is going well, but hearing that she cleared a metre-thirty today while I was plodding around on Twink doesn’t put me in a much better mood. I go back and read Dad’s email, which is just questions about what stuff I want him to send over immediately and what can wait a while. I respond quickly to that one and then open Tegan’s first email. It’s a garbled account of her progress with Nugget (good), her sister Lizzie (irritating) and a tirade against her mum’s cooking (again). She mentions Alec only briefly.

  Alecs dad got him a new pony to make up for Jess. It’s black, Alec says it pulls like a train but jumps like a stag which suits him I guess.

  How quick to forgive and forget, I think resentfully as I click on Tegan’s other email.

  Here’s the photos from Tauranga!!! Check out the one of Nugs he looks so cute! Dunno about my expression tho, what a munter. Finn looks good as. We miss you. Come back.

  Luv Tegz xxx

  There are five pictures attached to the email. I open them slowly, one by one. The first is of Nugget, jumping in his usual exuberant way. I laugh at Tegan’s face – Nugget had stood way back off the fence and almost jumped her out of the saddle, so she has her mouth wide open in surprise. The second image is of Alec on Lucky, riding in his usual unorthodox style, head ducked down and heels up, reins flapping in the breeze.

  “Oh my God,” Becky says, suddenly standing behind me. “What an awful riding position!”

  “That’s Alec,” I tell her as I click to the next photo. It takes a moment then appears, and it’s Finn in mid-air over the Swedish oxer. Her knees are up tight, ears pricked forward, and there’s me in the saddle, eyes forward, heels down, knuckles digging into her neck. It’s the best picture of me riding that I’ve ever seen, and I stare at it, speechless.

  “That’s you,” Becky says and I nod.

  “Yeah, that’s from the last show I did on her. That’s in the class we won.”

  “She’s so beautiful,” Becky says admiringly.

  I click on to the next picture and it’s Finn again, this time jumping the planks in the jump-off. She’s clearing it by almost a foot, her knees snapped up tight to her chest, and I can remember it all so clearly. How she got in a bit too deep but leapt over the jump as though she had springs in her heels, how I almost lost my stirrup on landing but managed to keep my foot jammed in as we turned. Second to last jump, one away from home…

  The last photo is of the line-up in that class. Me first, Alec second and Tegan third, all grinning widely. Lucky is rolling his eyes at Nugget, who’s got his ears back and is clearly planning on taking a chunk out of him. At the head of the line, Finn’s head is up and she’s looking right at the camera, the red winner’s sash bright around her neck. I stare at my expression. That’s the happiest I’ve ever seen myself look, and I wonder if selling Finn and coming back here was all a terrible mistake.

  I’m distracted for the rest of the evening, barely paying attention to the movie, and I lie awake for a long time while Becky snores next to me. When I finally fall asleep, I dream of Finn. She’s in the paddock at Alec’s and I’m trying to catch her, but she keeps running away. Finally I get her cornered and put the halter on her, but when I start leading her she turns into Jess, and gallops away from me. I start to chase her but she disappears over the top of the hill. I can see Liam standing on the hill with his rifle, pointing it towards the pony. I try to run but my legs won’t work, and I keep falling down. I start yelling at him, telling him to stop, but he ignores me and fires. I feel a hand on my shoulder and when I turn around I see Alec, blood pouring from a wound on his cheek.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he tells me. “It’s only a pony.”

  I wake with a start to a pitch black room. I take several deep breaths, trying to calm myself down as I stare into the darkness, too afraid to try and go back to sleep.

  We spend the next day shopping in Wimbledon with Becky’s friends, and after the first hour of trawling through shops looking at overpriced clothes that I can’t afford, I’m bored out of my mind. We go to a bookstore for coffee, and I wander the shelves while they wait for their orders, finding myself in the Travel section. There are a few guides to New Zealand, and I can’t help picking one up and flicking through it. I turn to the maps at the back and my eye is instantly drawn to the dot labelled Ratanui. Clearwater Bay isn’t big enough to warrant a dot on the map, but I know where it is. I put a finger on the slight curve in the shoreline, remembering the golden sand and sweeping waves, the rolling green pa
stures, the dense and wild native bush, the tall ranges that enclose the Bay. It seems so far away. I wonder what the weather is like, and what Tegan and Alec are doing right now. I wonder if my dad misses me. My finger slides down the coast to find Stratford.

  “Finn,” I whisper to myself.

  “Jay!” Becky’s voice snaps me out of my trance and I turn to see her walking up behind me, her friends in tow. “There you are! Come on, we’re going.”

  “Okay,” I tell her, shutting the book quickly before she asks what I’m doing. I don’t want her to know that I’m feeling homesick. I try to shake it off. This is your home, I tell myself firmly. That’s why you came back. I slide the book back onto the shelf and follow my friend.

  Gran picks me up from the station and drives me home. I sink back into the leather upholstery and watch the houses whiz by.

  “How was your weekend?” Gran asks.

  “Fine,” I reply, not wanting to get into details.

  “Excellent,” she replies, not wanting to hear any. “I’m going to have to drop you home and dash off again, I have a W.C. meeting at four. I’m going to be late as it is. It really would’ve been better if you’d caught an earlier train.”

  “I could’ve walked from the station,” I tell her as we pull up outside the house. “It’s not far.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. A young girl like you? It’s not safe,” she snaps. “Now we’re going to visit St Agatha’s tomorrow, so make sure you have something clean and tidy to wear. And I suggest you get some study done this afternoon, rather than just mooning about or watching telly.”

  I nod mutely and wander up to the house. Grandpa is in the garden fussing over a bed of marigolds. I go to my room and find the St Agatha’s brochure lying on the bed. Flopping onto my stomach, I flip through it, trying not to look at the photo of Finn that I have propped next to my bed. I turn to the equestrian pages of the brochure. According to this, we get to ride as part of our classes. Tegan will be so jealous of that.