by Kate Lattey
“Too heavy for you?” Mum teased.
I opened my mouth to speak, to tell her what had happened that morning, but I stopped myself. She would freak out, and start abusing Dad again for buying a horse that was too difficult for me to handle. It was bad enough knowing that – I didn’t want to hear about it from her as well. So I bit my lip and trudged into the house behind her, the pain in my hands increasing with every step.
Out in the tack room ten minutes later, I looked rope burn remedies up on Google, which all suggested putting some kind of soothing cream on it before applying a bandage. I rummaged through the First Aid cabinet, knowing that our tack room was bound to be better stocked than our house, and found a tube of Bepanthan. Designed for babies with nappy rash, we’d long been using it on the ponies for scrapes and rashes because it was suitable for sensitive skin. I flipped the cap off and squeezed the pale blue tube into the palm of my hand. It rebelled for a moment, then pushed through its dried crust and ejected a clumpy yellow paste. I picked out the worst bits and a couple of stray horse hairs before looking at it doubtfully. The internet article had stressed the importance of hygiene, from cleaning any dirt out of the burn under cold water – a step I’d skipped entirely – and then bandaging the site to keep unwanted bacteria out. The cream in my hand was gritty, and I wondered if I was going to be inviting more problems than I already had.
You only live once, right?
I rubbed my hands together, then added some more cream for good luck and did it again. It stung at first, but then it did seem to help. I knew that bandaging my hands was going to be a dead giveaway for Mum, so I decided to skip that step as well. I had a pair of gloves in the tack room that I was going to wear while riding today, and maybe I’d get lucky. Maybe the ponies would all behave themselves for once.
Yeah, right.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“How are you feeling?”
Anders rolled his eyes at me. “If I had a dollar for every time someone’s asked me that, I would have…maybe five or six dollars,” he told me. His expression was deadpan, but the familiar sparkle was there in his eyes, and I smiled as I walked a bit further into his bedroom.
“Sorry. What should I say?”
He shrugged. He was lying on his bed, his leg in a heavy cast stretched out in front of him. It looked incredibly uncomfortable, and despite the joking, he looked more morose than I’d ever seen him before. His bedroom was also a lot cleaner than I’d ever seen it in the past, which was probably due to the level of fussing his mother was still doing. For someone who had always been very matter-of-fact and staid about things, Christina had flip-flopped dramatically since the accident and was now keeping close tabs on all of her children, who were starting to suffocate slightly under the intensity.
“Nothing to say, but you could give me a dollar,” Anders replied. “I’ll have Possum get me a jar. Like a swear jar, but for platitudes and false concern.”
I stopped moving, hurt. “I meant it, you know.”
He sighed, and shifted slightly. “I know. Sorry. It’s just kind of hard to be cheerful right now.”
“I get that.” There was a chair next to his bed, and I sat down, knocking a hoodie onto the floor as I did. “Sorry.”
I leaned down and picked it up, then didn’t know what to do with it, so I balled it up in my lap. It was soft and worn, red with an embroidered emblem of a shield and the words FIRST XV RUGBY written underneath. Anders looked at it, but said nothing.
“You don’t have to be cheerful for my sake,” I said, to break the silence.
Anders raised an eyebrow. “Should I start crying?”
I wasn’t sure if he was being serious, but I answered sincerely. “If you want to. I don’t mind.”
The way he looked at me then made me feel about five years old. “Thanks, but I’m okay.” He shifted his weight again, then rested his head back against the pillows. “Just bored of out my mind.”
“Do you need anything? If you want something to read, or…” I slowed, not sure what I was really offering, because all of my books were about horses and all of Mum’s were lame romances, but I supposed I could go to the library or something.
“Nah, I’m good. My head’s still too jumbled at the moment for all that. Lexi keeps bringing me jigsaws, then sits there doing them for me because apparently I’m too slow. So that’s comforting. Poss and I’ve been playing cards, but I’m pretty sure she keeps letting me win, which is no fun for either of us. And if I wanted a book, I’d ask Astrid. She has about six billion of the things.” He looked across the room at his guitar, leaning in its stand in the corner. “At least I can still play music,” he told me, waggling his fingers in the air. “Still got all these, fully functional. Can’t remember any songs, but I haven’t forgotten how to play. So, there’s that.”
As he was speaking, AJ appeared in the doorway, flanked by Harry. They were both grinning at Anders, who smiled back, although I could see the strain behind his eyes as he put on a positive front. As Harry walked into the room and greeted him, AJ beckoned me towards the door. Reluctantly, I got to my feet and moved towards her. Harry immediately took my vacated chair and launched into a one-sided conversation with Anders about rugby and his fitness training, which I was sure was the last thing Anders wanted to talk about.
“Come into my room for a sec, there’s something I want to show you,” AJ told me, then turned away down the hall. I started to follow her, then realised I still had Anders’ hoodie in my hands. Turning back, I held it out in front towards him.
“Oh, here.” I looked around for somewhere to put it, but the room was so tidy that I didn’t feel comfortable just throwing it on the floor.
Anders glanced at it, and shrugged. “Keep it. I don’t need it anymore.”
“Hey, c’mon now mate,” Harry immediately interjected. “Don’t talk like that. You’ll be back in no time. Maybe we’ll send you to Fiji, slap some leaves on you. Worked for Naholo, right?”
Anders laughed. “Mate, if I thought that’d work I’d be on a plane tomorrow.”
I had no idea what they were talking about, but they resumed their conversation, ignoring me as I looked down at the sweatshirt in my arms. Had Anders meant it, when he’d told me to keep it? I wanted to believe that he had, but I couldn’t exactly carry it into AJ’s room with me, so I shook it out and hung it on his door handle. Anders was so busy talking to Harry that he didn’t notice me leave.
“What’d you want to show me?” I walked into AJ’s room and sat down on her bed. Unlike her brother’s bedroom, hers was a disaster zone. Clearly her mother’s cleaning hadn’t reached this end of the house yet.
“Check this out.” AJ picked up a Show Circuit magazine and tossed it into my lap. I looked down at the opened page, which was covered in glossy, high-definition show jumping photos. I scanned the page, noticing a picture of Hayley Maxwell jumping Misty Magic, and flipped to the cover of the magazine.
“How old is this?”
“It’s from last year. I got bored and started going back through old magazines. But look at the picture on the bottom right,” AJ urged, and I saw Tori.
She was jumping perfectly, her knees up and tight, body stretching over the wide triple bar, her outline a perfect bascule. Her rider was tight in the saddle, balanced and poised as the mare flew over the fence. My eyes went to the caption: Sophie Hewitt – VICTORIOUS LR, winner of the Five Year Old Championship, then up to the heading at the top of the page. Waitemata World Cup Finals. The same show I was about to take Tori to in two days’ time. I looked again at the photo, feeling ill. Tori looked flawless, perfect, easy. I wondered who this Sophie Hewitt was, and how she got good enough to ride Tori that well.
“Cool, huh?” AJ was grinning at me, still under the impression that she’d given me some kind of treat, so I forced myself to smile back.
“Yeah. Very cool.”
I could feel the pressure settling onto my shoulders like a lead blanket. This time last year, Tori had
won the Five Year Old at one of the biggest, most prestigious shows in the country. Two days from now, she would be back there, and her chances of winning anything were slim to none. Frankly, I was just praying that I would remain in control and stay on her back.
AJ started to say something else, but there was a knock at her door and Harry poked his head in.
“Thought I’d find you in here.”
“Your problem-solving skills are second to none,” AJ told him. “Find me in my room, who’d have thought?”
Harry grinned as he strolled into the bedroom, then sat down on the swivelling computer chair at AJ’s desk, leaned back and stretched his legs out in front of him. It looked as though he planned to stick around, and AJ didn’t seem at all discomfited by having him in her room. Clearly, he’d been in here before. I glanced briefly from one to the other, then stared back down at the magazine I was still holding, feeling awkward. My eyes flickered away from Tori, and back towards Hayley and Misty.
“You ever hear from Tess?” I asked AJ, looking at the expression of grim determination on Hayley’s face.
“Nope. You?”
I shook my head. “I know she read my message, but she didn’t reply. It’s weird. Not like her.” Then I frowned, thinking. “At least, I don’t think it is. I don’t really know her that well, to be honest. And Hayley’s just dropped off the face of the earth. I can’t even find her on Facebook.”
“Something weird is definitely up,” AJ agreed, looking concerned. “Have you asked Jonty?”
“He’s not even on Facebook. I looked.”
“Someone who’s not on Facebook?” Harry asked, mock-scandalised. “You’re kidding. In this day and age?”
I rolled my eyes at him but AJ laughed. “I know, right? What is the world coming to?”
“Did you know that there was a time before the internet even existed?” Harry asked us, bending his legs and leaning forward in his chair. “When people had to go to something called a library to research their homework, and Google wasn’t even a word?”
“The Dark Ages,” AJ said sagely. “Before electricity was invented, and paper.”
“What a time it must’ve been to live in,” Harry continued. “We can’t even begin to imagine the struggles people must have faced.”
AJ laughed, and it was like I wasn’t even there. I flipped through Show Circuit as they carried on their banter, looking at other photos and vaguely reading an article about how to engage your horse’s hindquarters. Is there anything in here about how to make your horse stop trying to kill you? I wondered as I skimmed over the pages. Because that would be useful information to have. Tori had been increasingly difficult to ride over the past few days, to the point where I felt like I was sitting on a ticking time bomb that was just waiting to explode. The fact that she hadn’t yet exploded, or even really done anything very naughty, was actually more concerning than if she’d been bucking me off every day. At least then I’d have known what to expect, but all I had to go on was a sinking feeling that she was building up to something. Some horses are buckers, some are rearers, some are bolters. Some will spin 180 degrees and throw you over their shoulder, some will throw you into the jumps, some will just baulk and nap and refuse to go where you tell them to. So far, Tori hadn’t done any of these things, but she had something up her sleeve, I was sure of it.
“Earth to Katy. Hello?” I looked up and into AJ’s curious blue eyes, which were laughing at me. “You are home! You zoned right out on us there.”
“Sorry. What’s up?”
“We’re going to watch a DVD. Coming?”
“Um…” I closed the magazine and tossed it aside. “What’s the movie?”
“Not sure yet. Harry’s going to pick one,” AJ told me as Harry preceded us out of the room. “But knowing his taste, my money’s on The Princess Bride.”
“I might give it a miss,” I told my friend as I got to my feet. “I should probably get home and help Mum get the ponies ready for the show. And I haven’t ridden Robin yet. Or Lucas.”
“Fair enough,” AJ said compliantly. It stung slightly that she hadn’t even tried to convince me to stay, but I caught a glimpse of the teddy bear that she’d had in her hospital bed, tucked up against her pillow and I knew she would prefer to spend time with Harry than with me. “Tell Squib he’s amazing and to jump out of his skin for you tomorrow. And talk to Tess, see if you can’t prise any information out of her. Just because we’re concerned, you know.”
“I will,” I promised AJ, following her down the hall.
As we passed Anders’ bedroom, I glanced in and saw him with his head leaning back against the pillows, his eyes closed. I wondered if he was asleep, or just resting. There was a large bottle of pain medication on the table beside his bed, and his face was paler than usual. I wished there really was something I could do for him – it made me feel so helpless to see him in so much pain.
AJ had already gone into the lounge to meet Harry, and Anders’ hoodie was still hanging on the door knob. Keep it. Had he meant it, though? Or had Harry talked him out of his impulse to throw away his dreams of returning to the First XV, unrealistic as the doctors insisted that would be? I stopped, and my hand reached out towards the hoodie, almost of its own accord. I wondered if it would bring me good luck. I could use a good omen right about now. I glanced at Anders again, but he was still dozing. What if he woke up and decided that he didn’t want it, and threw it out? I could give it a better home than that. And I could always give it back, if he changed his mind.
Before I could change mine, I grabbed the hoodie off the door and bundled it into my arms, cast one more look at Anders’ sleeping face, then hurried down the hall and out of the front door. I could use a long walk to clear my head, and I hugged the hoodie to my chest as I started to cover the kilometres that would take me from AJ’s door to my own.
* * *
“Tess!”
I straightened up and shaded my eyes with my hand, squinting in the bright sunlight to make sure it was her. She hadn’t responded, but I recognised her curly brown hair and the tense set of her shoulders, not to mention the lean, dark-haired figure next to her. I called her name again, and this time it was her companion who turned. Jonty raised a hand in greeting to me as he tapped Tess on the shoulder, and they both came in my direction.
I pushed my hair back out of my eyes and stooped to pick up the water bucket I’d been filling. The show grounds were a tumult of activity, as everyone seemed to have picked the exact same time of day to arrive, and there were two grumpy middle-aged women waiting impatiently for access to the tap. I dragged my bucket out of their way as Jonty came over and grabbed the opposite handle.
“Need a hand?”
“Cheers.”
I lifted the other side, trying to keep the bucket level. For a slight guy, Jonty was surprisingly strong, and it took a considerable effort for me to lift my side high enough to avoid spilling water all down my jeans. We lugged it down the aisle between the temporary looseboxes to where Tori was waiting, pacing irritably around and digging up her shavings. She shot us a filthy look and flattened her ears back against her glossy neck as I pushed the sliding door back and we stepped into her stable.
“Be nice, he’s helping,” I told the mare, who ignored me and continued to scowl at Jonty as we set the water bucket down in the corner.
“Nice horse,” Jonty commented as we straightened up.
I narrowed my eyes at him, suspecting sarcasm, but he seemed sincere. He stepped towards Tori, holding a hand out to her in greeting. She shot him a disdainful look and her ears flickered back and forth in a way I’d learned to read as a warning label.
“Careful, she bites,” I told him.
Jonty glanced at me, raised an eyebrow slightly and lowered his hand. “Noted. Still working on winning her over, eh?”
“Something like that.” I didn’t want to admit how little success I’d had so far, but fortunately he was distracted by Tess’ appearance at the stal
l door.
“What d’you think?” he asked her.
Tess was looking at Tori with a slightly dubious expression. “She’s impressive,” she said quietly. “Hi Katy,” she added with a weak smile, then turned back towards Jonty. “We should go. Mum wanted us back at the truck ten minutes ago.”
“Okay.” Jonty let himself out of Tori’s stable and I followed him, latching the door securely behind me. Tori turned away from us and started pawing restlessly at her bedding.
“Don’t leave yet,” I told them. “I haven’t seen you guys in ages. We need to catch up.”
Tess nodded briefly. “Yeah, definitely. Are you doing the metre-fifteen tomorrow morning?”
“Yep, and I’m second to ride so I’ll be up at sparrow’s fart for it,” I grumbled. “Good thing Mum’s better at early mornings than I am. She can get the ponies ready while I have a lie in.”
Jonty grinned. “Nice for some, eh? We’ll see you then.”
And he placed a hand on the small of Tess’s back and guided her away. I watched them until they vanished from sight, then turned and walked back towards our truck, wondering if Mum had sorted the ponies’ yards out yet. We hadn’t planned on stabling Tori, but when we’d put her into the open yards she’d spent fifteen minutes throwing herself at the yard fences and trying to attack everyone around her, so we’d been forced to change our plans. Fortunately this venue had temporary stabling up, and we’d been able to secure a stall at the last minute because one of the Grand Prix riders had a scratching, and the ground crew had already been notified about Tori’s terrible behaviour by several worried competitors who didn’t want their horses savaged overnight. So much for flying under the radar, then. The upside of this new arrangement was that Tori was behind bars and could no longer attack everyone around her, but the downside was that our ponies’ yards were on the opposite side of the show grounds from the stables, which was going to make life very tedious. Mum had gone to see if we could move the ponies closer to the stable block, and in the meantime I was stuck babysitting my pet dragon.
