Ride by Moonlight

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Ride by Moonlight Page 2

by Michelle Bates


  Charlie didn’t know what to think. Sarah had totally misread his discomfort if she thought he was still worried about his parents’ divorce – that was the last thing on his mind. He felt like screaming out in frustration. Instead, he spoke in a calm and reasonable manner.

  “Nick thinks I’m making a mountain out of a molehill, doesn’t he?” he said.

  “No,” Sarah said, hesitantly. “It’s just that he can’t understand why you’re not riding again. “He tried everything to get you on Napoleon last week, and when he couldn’t manage it, it made him feel frustrated.”

  Charlie didn’t know what to say.

  “Now listen, I think that’s him moving about upstairs,” Sarah said. “Let’s wrap this up while I make some more tea.” And, getting up from her seat, Sarah flicked the kettle on.

  “Hello everyone. What’s going on here?” Before Charlie knew it, Nick appeared in the kitchen and sat himself down at the table. “Any news?” he asked, running a hand through his ruffled brown hair. “You going over to the racing stables this morning then, Charlie?” he interjected, casually.

  “Nick,” Sarah said pleadingly, shooting him a look that clearly asked him to be quiet. Nick held up his hand to silence her, waiting for Charlie’s response.

  “No,” Charlie said, obstinately.

  “And why not?” Nick asked.

  “You know why not,” Sarah said, intervening on Charlie’s behalf.

  “Look Nick,” Charlie said in a defensive voice. “I told Josh I’d let him know when I’m going back.” Charlie felt guilty, knowing that he wasn’t telling Nick the whole truth.

  “You said that last week, Charlie,” Nick said, more gently this time.

  “Does it matter?” Charlie raised his voice.

  “Yes, it does. You should be trying to ride again.” Nick’s voice was calmly controlled.

  Charlie bit his tongue. And then he started to speak. “I’ve told you,” he said, brusquely. “I’m not up to it yet.” And with that he got up and walked out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. As he stepped into the hall, he stopped for a second and took a deep breath. He ought to go back and apologize. But now he could hear Sarah and Nick talking again.

  “Honestly Nick,” Sarah was saying. “It’s not as simple as you think. It’s important we give him time to come to terms with everything. You of all people should understand that.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Nick answered, crossly.

  “Do I need to spell it out for you?” Sarah answered. “You know what I’m referring to.”

  “And you know I don’t like talking about my old racing days. We’re not discussing me here.” Nick raised his voice. “It’s Charlie we’ve got to think about. He really should be pulling himself together.”

  Charlie stood still in the hall, rooted to the spot. At the sound of the kitchen door beginning to open, he made a quick exit up the stairs. He’d heard enough. Nick and Sarah never normally argued and now, because of him, they were angry with each other.

  Quickly, Charlie closed the bedroom door behind him. He couldn’t keep disrupting everything. He’d just have to work out a way to get himself riding again, or give up Sandy Lane altogether.

  3

  ANOTHER TRY

  As Sandy Lane was right by the sea, it was the perfect place to ride in the summer months, and that morning the yard was flooded with extra riders. Charlie found himself running around, grooming, tacking up and taking bookings. It wasn’t until 11 o’clock that he found time for a rest, and sat down on the hay bales by the big barn.

  “Jess, do you want a hand with Skylark?” he called across to where the curly-haired girl was struggling to pull her pony’s head up from the grass.

  “No, I’m all right, Charlie,” she called back, fumbling with the girth.

  “OK,” Charlie answered. He longed for everyone to be ready so that the yard would be quiet again.

  Eventually everything seemed to be in hand – the ponies were tacked up, the riders mounted, and a string of horses made its way out of the yard. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the retreating figures.

  As the morning sun bore down on him, Charlie looked across to where Chancey was kept. His stable door stood open. Tom was probably inside, but Tom had ignored him all morning. In fact, they hadn’t talked since their argument. Charlie was in a quandary. He’d made up his mind to try to ride, and he wanted to ask Tom for help. But that would mean apologizing for yesterday’s argument, and he really didn’t want to do that.

  He looked at his watch. Ten past eleven. The ride wouldn’t be back for a good hour and a half – just enough time to take a horse out. It was now or never. He’d just have to say sorry. Slowly, Charlie eased himself off the hay bales.

  “Tom,” he called.

  No answer. Tom clearly wasn’t going to make things easy for him. Charlie took a deep breath and crossed the yard.

  He called again and peered into the gloom of Chancey’s stable to find Tom, frantically brushing away at the chestnut horse’s tail.

  “What is it?” Tom asked, brushing the hair out of his eyes as he squinted into the brilliant sunshine outside. “I thought you’d said all you wanted to say yesterday.”

  “Look, I know you’re mad at me,” Charlie began, “but I’ve changed my mind. I do want to try and ride again.”

  “So what?” Tom looked angrily at Charlie. He seemed more annoyed than pleased by the news. It wasn’t the reaction Charlie had been expecting.

  “Well, can we go out for that ride you promised me yesterday?” Charlie asked, trying to make light of the situation.

  “You’ve got a cheek, haven’t you? Just changing your mind like that,” Tom answered him.

  “I know, it doesn’t sound great,” Charlie said, biting his tongue to stop a smart retort. If he was going to get Tom on his side, he’d have to be as conciliatory as possible. “But you were right. I’ve got to try and pull myself together.”

  Tom looked uncertain. “Well, I’m taking Chancey down to the beach for a good hard gallop to muscle him up. I suppose you can come too if you like,” he said grudgingly.

  Charlie gulped. A good hard gallop was the last thing he felt like. But Tom hadn’t stopped for a reply.

  “Nick’s just gone out,” he went on. “So you’d better ask Sarah if you can take out Napoleon.”

  “But Tom, I’m not sure if–” Charlie started.

  Tom held up his hand. “I’m sure she’ll let you.”

  “OK.” Charlie was hesitant. He’d wanted to tell Tom that he was suddenly getting cold feet again, but Tom had interrupted him.

  “Go on then,” Tom started.

  Charlie felt beads of sweat rising on his forehead as he hurried across to the cottage. He felt embarrassed as he walked into the kitchen. He’d only been saying to Sarah that morning that he wouldn’t ride. What would she say?

  Sarah was quietly composed as Charlie made his request. “Are you sure about this?” she asked. “Tom hasn’t put you up to it, has he?”

  “No, it’s completely my decision,” Charlie answered firmly.

  “Well, OK then.” She seemed surprised. “If you’re sure you’re ready for it, then of course it’s fine for you to take out Napoleon. You’re a competent rider. Nick won’t have a problem with that. It’s just that after everything you said this morning–”

  “I know, I know,” Charlie answered, cutting her off mid-sentence.

  “Well that’s settled then. I won’t say anything more about it. I’ll see you later.”

  Charlie nodded and tried to force a smile to his face.

  “All agreed?” Tom asked as he saw Charlie approaching. Charlie nodded.

  “Good, well I’ll get Chancey ready and then we’ll be off.”

  Tom disappeared, leaving Charlie to tack up his mount. Charlie made his way to Napoleon’s stable.

  “You’ve got to help me through this,” Charlie said to the big, bay horse. “I’m relying on
you to look after me.”

  Napoleon looked around him and blew through his nostrils in a bored fashion.

  “It’s all right for you,” Charlie said, reaching for the saddle and bridle. The stable felt oppressively hot and still, and Charlie had an empty, gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  “There’s a boy,” he whispered, gently sliding the bridle over Napoleon’s head. He reached up to place the saddle on the horse’s back and pulled the girth round. As he fastened the buckle, he realized he was shaking. He stood up straight, stopping for a moment to fiddle with Napoleon’s forelock – anything to prolong the moment when he’d have to go out of the stable and mount.

  “It’ll be all right. It’ll be all right,” he tried telling himself and then, in a daze, he led Napoleon out of the stable. Before he could change his mind, he was following Tom out of the yard, through the gate and into the dusty fields at the back of the yard. He felt giddy as he watched Tom spring neatly into Chancey’s saddle.

  “Come on. Let’s get going,” Tom said firmly.

  “I think I’ll just walk Napoleon over to the trees,” Charlie said, playing for time. “It’ll be easier over there.”

  “OK.” Tom was adjusting his stirrup, and seemed not to notice Charlie’s discomfort.

  Charlie didn’t know why he felt so ill at ease. He’d ridden Napoleon so many times. He didn’t even bear any similarity to the racehorse. Big, solid, reliable Napoleon – how could he be scared of riding him? And yet he was.

  Napoleon seemed to sense that something was wrong now they had crossed the field. He was getting fidgety, turning on his toes and pirouetting madly, making it difficult for Charlie to get his foot into the stirrup. Every time Charlie went to spring up, Napoleon moved away again. The ground started spinning. Charlie’s head was reeling. It was as though he was seeing everything double. He felt dizzy and suddenly very numb. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t stop thinking. His mind was in a whirl as everything came flooding back – the high-pitched whinny, the thundering hooves, the crashing fall – they all echoed around his head.

  Charlie had an overwhelming feeling that he was going to be sick as he leaned against the horse. He felt like he wasn’t really there, and yet he could hear Tom calling his name.

  “Charlie, are you OK? You’ve gone very green.” Tom’s voice snapped him to his senses.

  “Er, I’m OK, I just don’t feel too good. Look, I don’t think I should come out with you today after all.”

  Charlie felt groggy as he reached up to touch his forehead. “I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep last night. It must all be beginning to catch up with me.”

  “Tired! You’re more than tired,” said Tom. “Let’s go and get Sarah.”

  “No, no, don’t do that,” Charlie said hurriedly. “I’m starting to feel better already. Only I really don’t think I should ride Napoleon this morning.”

  “You’re probably right,” Tom said, uneasily.

  “Look, you won’t tell anyone about this, will you?” Charlie pleaded, embarrassed.

  “Well...” Tom was hesitant.

  “Please,” Charlie begged. “I just need more time. I’m not feeling quite myself at the moment, that’s all. I’ll be better in a few days – honest I will. You go out for your ride. Chancey’s getting impatient. I’ll take Napoleon back, and we’ll go out another time.”

  “I really think I ought to come with you,” Tom said, uncertainly.

  “No, Tom,” Charlie said, more firmly this time. “No offence, but I’ll be fine on my own.”

  “OK then,” Tom said, slowly. “Look, I’ll only be gone half an hour.”

  “I’ll see you later,” Charlie answered, wearily.

  And, before Tom could say anything more about it, Charlie was leading the bay horse off by his reins.

  As he walked back to the yard, Charlie felt ashamed of himself. How could he have been such a wimp? As he took Napoleon into the stable, he felt relieved to see that the Land Rover had gone – Sarah must be shopping. At least she wouldn’t have to know about this.

  Leaving Napoleon to his haynet, Charlie hurried over to the cottage. He fumbled under the mat for the key and let himself into the kitchen. Sarah had drawn all of the curtains so that it was kept cool inside – a dramatic contrast to the burning heat of the yard. And now that he was alone, Charlie reached for the phone, gnawing at his lip as he punched in some numbers, before collapsing into the armchair behind him.

  “Hello, this is Charlie Marshall speaking...er no, no, I don’t need Mr. Wiley. Yes, please could you just tell him that I won’t be over this week...er no, I don’t feel great. It’s summer ’flu. Yes, a lot of it around. Thanks very much.”

  4

  MORE LIES

  Charlie was still slumped in the chair when he heard the Land Rover roll into the yard an hour later. The others had got back from their hack some time ago, but Charlie had stayed well hidden...hadn’t answered any of their calls, not even Tom’s. He’d just wanted to be left alone. Now that Sarah was back, he’d have to go outside, or at least disappear up to his room, if he was going to avoid facing her.

  Charlie pushed open the back door and stepped outside. His friends were huddled over in a group by the hay bales, but they were so busy talking they didn’t seem to notice him lingering by the barn.

  “I just don’t know what’s wrong with Izzy,” Rosie was saying.

  “She’s been like a bear with a sore head lately,” Jess added. “Yesterday I offered to help her with Midnight, and she practically bit my head off – told me he was her horse, not mine – as if I didn’t know that.”

  “Something’s definitely wrong,” Kate joined in. “I just can’t work out what it is.”

  Charlie felt guilty as he listened to what they were saying. He’d been so wrapped up with his own problems that he hadn’t noticed the things going on around him.

  “Oh, Charlie, there you are,” Rosie and Jess called out in unison. “We’ve been calling and calling you. Where have you been? Didn’t you hear us?”

  “Er, no,” Charlie said hesitantly. “What’s all this about Izzy?” he asked, quickly changing the subject before they could question him more.

  “Oh, it’s just that she’s been really odd lately. We’re sure something’s up, only she won’t tell us. Do you know what’s wrong?”

  Charlie shook his head. He thought about Izzy. She’d always been headstrong, but she was never moody for long. She’d been strange with him lately too, but Charlie had put it down to embarrassment about his accident.

  “Hi you guys.” The group turned round to see the very person they were discussing crossing the yard to join them. Quickly, they broke up the group, feeling embarrassed that they’d actually been caught talking about her behind her back. An unnatural silence developed that was only broken when Tom joined the group. Once again, the focus turned back to Charlie.

  “Where have you been?” Tom asked, walking over. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you, Charlie. Didn’t you hear me calling?”

  “No,” Charlie said, avoiding eye contact and turning away.

  “Are you lot OK over there?” Nick interrupted the group. “If any of you are joining the 2 o’clock hack you’d better get a move on – it’s about to go out.”

  Uneasily, Charlie shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hoping that Nick wouldn’t suggest he join the ride. Luckily for him though, Nick seemed to have other things on his mind, and then Sarah appeared at the steps to the cottage.

  “Can someone help me in with the shopping?” she called.

  “I will,” Charlie answered, quick to jump to help.

  “So will I,” Tom added.

  “Great! So how did the ride go then you two?” she asked brightly, looking straight at Tom and Charlie.

  “What ride?” Nick asked, suspiciously.

  Sarah shrugged her shoulders and went to speak. “Well–”

  And then Charlie stepped in. Before he could stop himself, more li
es were spilling out.

  “Tom took Chancey out for a training session in the outdoor school and I went and watched,” he explained. “You’re not going to believe it, but they jumped four foot!” Charlie looked Tom straight in the eye, challenging him to defy him. Tom watched him warily, but didn’t say anything.

  “Four foot?” Nick looked from Tom to Charlie as if they were mad. “But Chancey easily jumped that last summer. You’ll have to do better than that if you’re going to impress me,” he laughed. “He’s a brilliant horse, he should be jumping four footers easily.”

  “I know, I know,” Tom laughed, uneasily. “I did try telling Charlie that, but he wouldn’t have it.”

  Sarah looked bemused, but didn’t say anything. “Well, anyway – the shopping,” she started, quickly changing the subject. “Tom and Charlie. Can you carry the bags in?”

  “Do you want me to give you a hand too?” Nick asked.

  “No thanks,” Sarah answered. “Two pairs of hands is plenty. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the beach hack?”

  “Yes, I guess I should.” Nick shrugged his shoulders good-naturedly and turned away. When he was out of earshot, Sarah looked angrily at the two boys in front of her.

  “OK you two,” she said, pushing her hair behind her ears. “Inside the cottage. You might be able to pull the wool over Nick’s eyes – he’s got a lot on at the moment, but you won’t get things past me that easily.”

  Obediently, Charlie and Tom picked up the bags of shopping and followed Sarah into the cottage.

  “So,” she started. “What’s going on?”

  Charlie looked at Tom. Tom looked at Charlie, and then Charlie started to speak. When he did, it wasn’t the truth he came out with.

  “We didn’t want Nick to know I’d been riding yet. You see, I didn’t do anything much – I took it very easy. Just walking and trotting. And I don’t want Nick to get his hopes up if it comes to nothing.”

 

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