by Amy Brown
Table of Contents
Cover Page
1 Who are you?
2 Mr White’s idea
3 Too much to learn
4 Humiliations galore
5 The fall
6 Pony club
7 Becca’s birthday present
8 Visiting an Olympian
9 Certificates
10 Ribbons
11 Horses and ponies
12 Surprise!
13 Showjumping
14 Where is home?
Four ways to make friends with a pony
Other Books By
Copyright
About the Publisher
1
Who are you?
Since leaving Rose and her mum at the bus station in Auckland, Jade had driven through many small towns, counting horses to keep her mind off things. Some towns had giant corrugatediron sheep and statues of dogs, others not much more than a local pub and a dairy. Flaxton seemed like the latter. First there were scrubby paddocks and pine trees, then the main street with a few boring shops—the Salvation Army, a café and an old ladies’ clothes store. Jade felt like crying again. How could she live here after Auckland?
As the bus pulled into a small car park, Jade saw her granddad sitting in his old white Falcon. He was reading a newspaper and smoking a cigarette. She also saw a group of girls about her age walk past, towards the KFC. They were different—different from Rose and the other girls at Jade’s school in Auckland. Their clothes were different, their faces and laughs were different.
When the driver passed her the suitcase she’d packed herself, Jade wanted to hop straight back on the bus. Why couldn’t she live with Rose’s family? She hardly knew her granddad. They only ever met at Christmas. The Christmas before last they’d all been there—her mum, dad and grandma. And now it was just her left.
‘Hello, Jade.’ Her granddad was behind her now, reaching for her suitcase. She gave it to him as they hugged awkwardly, sort of patting each other’s backs. ‘How’re you doing?’
‘All right.’ Jade hadn’t seen him since the funeral. He was wearing an old checked shirt, stained jeans and work boots now, which suited him. He fitted in here, as she did in Auckland. He smelt of petrol. Jade wondered if she’d ever get used to that smell.
They drove to her granddad’s house without having to talk—Jade looking out the window and her granddad listening to Dolly Parton.
‘That’s your new school,’ he said as they passed a concrete gateway and a set of ugly yellow buildings. Jade didn’t have anything nice to say, so she said nothing.
As they pulled into Grove Road, the view became more familiar. Over a bridge, there was the farm animal pound—a place for stray goats, sheep, cattle and horses. Jade wound down the window as they passed it, to get a better look at a big black pony with four white stockings. It stopped grazing and watched her blowing a raspberry, trying to whiffle like a horse. Her granddad smirked.
‘You still like horses?’ he asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘Thought you might’ve grown out of that.’
‘Nah.’
‘Plenty of horses round here. Mind you, don’t get too attached. It won’t be there forever.’
‘What happens to the strays that aren’t collected?’ Jade knew what her granddad meant, but wanted him to say it.
‘They get dog-tuckered.’
‘Put down?’
‘Well, they go to the abattoir.’ As her granddad said this he rolled down his window and spat. He clearly wasn’t used to being around eleven-year-old girls.
Shortly, they drew up outside the battered old bungalow. Jade knew which room to go to, as she’d stayed there before a couple of years ago, and nothing had changed since. Perhaps it was dustier now, without her grandma’s cleaning, but otherwise everything was as she’d left it. There was still a pile of Golden Books sitting on the dresser—they’d been too young for her then, and were even less appropriate now.
From her window, she had a view out over the backyard. The lawn was grey and tufty—too dry to bother mowing. The garden had got away on her granddad.
Jade was just glad she didn’t have to look at all the bits of cars out the front in the garage. Lennox’s Auto Repairs was her granddad’s business and it didn’t interest her one bit.
She was quick to unpack her things. Jeans and T-shirts, folded more clumsily than when her mum used to do it, went in the chest of drawers next to the window. The dress from last year’s school social, which was already getting too small, and the black waistcoat that she’d worn to the funeral went in the wardrobe. Jade’s faded toy rabbit sat awkwardly on the pillow, and her five favourite books were piled on the bedside table. Rose’s mum was posting her other stuff down soon, but for now she had to make do with what she had.
The familiar smell of her clothes was overwhelmed by the stale old-person scent that filled the house. Everything looked and smelt pale brown, like tobacco, old curtains and old carpet. I’m the only young thing in this room, Jade thought.
She lay on the bed and opened one of her books—International Velvet. She didn’t have to start at the beginning, she’d read it so many times before. She could hear her mum’s voice reading to her, stopping at intervals to say, ‘Really, Jade, this is awful! How can you enjoy it?’
‘Because it’s got horses,’ Jade remembered replying. Her mum had argued that there were probably better stories with horses that she could read: National Velvet for instance, or Fly-by-Night, or My Friend Flicka. Those three sat on Jade’s bedside table now, along with Jill’s Gymkhana, Pony Club Cup and The Black Stallion. Why had she only brought her babyish horse stories? She felt both silly and relieved. She knew she was getting too old for them, but only these books could help her get to sleep at night. There’s nothing like a story about a beautiful, clever horse and a young rider to take your mind off real troubles. Jade was trying hard not to think about her dad.
After finishing International Velvet for the umpteenth time, Jade looked at her watch and saw that it was nearly six. She remembered that her granddad liked to eat early and thought she’d better go out and be sociable. She could smell something boiling.
‘Hello, Jade,’ her granddad said as she came into the kitchen. He was bent over the oven, turning something over in a dish. Grandma had always cooked; Jade wondered what Granddad’s dinner would be like.
‘Shall I set the table?’ Jade asked.
‘Ah, yes,’ Granddad said unsurely. ‘It should be ready quite soon, I think.’
Jade found the place mats with native birds painted on them in the sideboard drawer, and cutlery in the kitchen. Last time she was here, her grandma had fussed over the state of the cloth napkins. Jade didn’t think her granddad would mind if they didn’t use them tonight.
When she’d finished setting the table, Jade sat down in her usual chair and looked around at the empty seats. This isn’t doing me any good, she thought, and went back into the kitchen.
‘Can I help with anything, Granddad?’
‘How are you at mashing spuds?’ he asked, not looking up from a steamy pot on top of the oven.
Jade had never mashed potatoes before; it was her dad’s job. ‘I’m OK at it,’ she said hopefully. ‘Where’s the masher?’
‘You’ll find it in the drawer to your left.’
Over her eleven years Jade had eaten better dinners, but when she’d finished and put her knife and fork together she told her granddad it was good.
‘You like roast pork, then?’ he said.
‘Yeah, it was nice, thanks.’
‘Not bad for a first go, I reckon.’ He sounded surprised and pleased with himself. ‘Now for the dishes.’
‘Granddad?’ Jade asked, after she’d
finished drying their few dishes.
‘Yes?’
‘Do you mind if I go for a quick walk?’
‘No, that should be all right.’ Again, he seemed unsure. ‘Where do you think you’ll go?’
‘Just down the road a bit.’ Jade wanted to say hello to the pony with the four white stockings.
‘Want me to come with you?’
‘Nah, I’ll be fine. Call the police if I’m not back in half an hour.’
‘Right you are.’
As Jade put on her shoes outside the fly-screen door, she heard her granddad opening a beer and turning on the TV.
It was a lovely summer evening—still light and warm at seven o’clock. Jade walked along the grass verge, unaccustomed to so much space without any people around. As she approached the paddock of stray animals, she started looking for good grass. Most of it was coarse and dry, but down by a culvert she found a few handfuls of lush clover.
Jade called the pony, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. ‘Come on, boy, this clover’s for you.’
She held it out over the fence and called again. Eventually the pony looked up at her and pricked his ears. He started ambling over, but too slowly. A scrawny ginger-coloured goat had seen Jade’s handful of greenery and galloped towards it, making a terrible noise.
‘Oi, this isn’t for you!’ Jade laughed, pushing the goat’s head away as its little hooves scrabbled to stand on the bottom wire of the fence.
‘Maaaa!’ the goat whined, its yellow eyes looking pathetic and hungry. Jade gave in and fed the goat a small handful of grass.
‘Don’t worry, mister—the rest is for you.’ The pony had arrived by now and stuck his nose over the fence and into the palm of her hand.
‘You’re in a bit of a state, aren’t you, my dear,’ Jade told the pony, stroking his thin neck and trying to comb his tangled mane with her fingers. As she started scratching his eyebrow, the pony cocked his head to one side, closed his eyes and made a blissful snickering sound.
‘Like that, do you?’ Jade laughed. The goat, bored when it wasn’t being fed, left the pony and Jade alone together.
‘I reckon you’d scrub up nicely,’ Jade told the pony. ‘You’re quite tall, aren’t you?’
’She’s actually talking to a horse!’ a mean voice said. Jade spun around in a fright: three girls on roller-blades were hovering behind her.
‘Hi,’ Jade said coldly. She could tell she wouldn’t be making any friends here.
‘Who are you?’ the ringleader asked. She had three studs in each ear and bleached hair. She looked about thirteen, as did her scowling friends.
‘I’m Jade.’
‘Everyone,’ the ringleader said to her girlfriends, ‘this is Jade. She’s in love with a horse.’ The girls started screeching with laughter. ‘Do you like horses more than boys, Jade?’
Not seeing any reason why she should lie, Jade said, ‘Yes, actually. Horses are great. They’re way smarter than most boys—and you, by the looks of it.’
The ringleader reeled back. Clearly, she was used to getting the last word.
‘Enjoy your horsey boyfriend while you can, eh? You know what’s going to happen to him, don’t you?’
Jade didn’t bother replying; she just turned around and started stroking her friend’s neck again.
‘He’s gonna get made into glue and dog food soon!’ The ringleader made her friends laugh like hyenas as they all roller-bladed away.
‘Mate, you’re not going to get made into glue while I’m around,’ Jade whispered to the pony. ‘Meet me at the gate in a few hours.’
Back at the house, Jade’s granddad was watching Coronation Street. She’d thought only her grandma had liked it, and could have sworn that her granddad usually grumbled through it.
‘Nice walk?’ he asked as she passed the livingroom door.
‘Yes, thanks.’
‘Did you go down to visit that pony?’
For some reason Jade was embarrassed at this. ‘Yeah.’
‘You off to bed now, then?’
‘Um, I might have a shower first. Is that OK?’
‘Towels are in the hall cupboard. Good night, Jade.’
‘OK. Thanks. Good night.’
It was like staying in an awkward hotel. Was Jade expected to kiss her granddad good night, as she would have her mum or dad? She hoped not, and ran down to her room to get her pyjamas.
Warm from her shower, Jade sat tensely on the edge of the bed, waiting for her granddad’s light to go out. It was only nine and not completely dark yet. A moth fluttered against the lampshade above Jade’s bed. She lay back again and decided to read a few chapters of The Black Stallion.
Before she knew it, Alec the young jockey was racing the black stallion around the track for the first time and her watch said eleven-thirty. Jade peered out into the hallway and saw that her granddad’s light was finally off; she could even hear him snoring.
Quickly, she changed back into her shorts and T-shirt, laced up her shoes and left the house, being careful not to slam the door. It was shadowy around her granddad’s garage as Jade looked for some rope. Why didn’t I do this when it was light? she scolded herself. Eventually, finding the light switch by the door, Jade saw three coils of rope hanging against the far wall. She walked carefully across the concrete floor stained with grease, and grabbed the smallest coil.
‘Yes, that’ll do fine,’ she said to herself in a singsong voice as she turned the light switch off and found herself in the dark.
In the dark it seemed like a long way back to the strays’ paddock. Once a hedgehog scuttled across the road in front of her and Jade gasped. Don’t be a silly baby, she told herself under her breath.
At the paddock, all she could see of the pony was his four white stockings. She called him as she had before, and this time he came trotting over.
‘Hello, lovely,’ she said, knotting the rope as best she could through the ring in the pony’s old halter. The rest of the animals must have been sleeping, because no goat or sheep tried to squeeze through the gate as Jade fiddled with the rusty latch.
‘Lucky it wasn’t locked, eh?’ she said to the pony, stroking his neck and shoulder with the palm of her hand.
Leading him down the shadowy grass verge, Jade started to worry. She could feel the pony’s tense body through the rope. Getting out of the paddock was exciting for the pony, but did he trust her? Should he trust her?
‘Oh, no! Where am I going to put you when we get back to Granddad’s?’
Stopping to think her plan through, Jade let the hungry pony tear at the lush grass growing at the bottom of the culvert. There wouldn’t be grass like that on her granddad’s back lawn, that was for sure. The verge outside the front gate was a bit greener, but the pony mightn’t be safe out there. Jade thought of the girls with the roller-blades.
‘Perhaps I should just put you back, fella?’ Jade said to the pony, frowning. It was a silly plan, but she’d set her heart on it now and didn’t want to give up.
‘Nope. You’re coming with me. We’ll sort something out.’
2
Mr White’s idea
Early the next morning when Jade’s granddad started making his breakfast, he looked out the kitchen window and saw his granddaughter lying asleep on the back lawn with a familiar black pony grazing calmly next to her.
‘Good heavens!’ he said to himself. ‘That naughty girl!’
When Jade woke up, she was cold and stiff, and had forgotten where she was. The first thing she noticed was her granddad standing over her with a frown on his face. The next thing she noticed was a pair of legs with white stockings standing near her head, and a black nose rubbing hopefully at the grey lawn.
‘Sorry, Granddad,’ she said.
‘What were you thinking, girl?’
‘I didn’t want him to get made into glue.’ Jade had picked herself up off the ground now and was brushing grass off her shorts.
‘We can’t keep a horse,
Jade. There’s no room. Surely you can see that?’
‘Yeah.’ For a horrible moment, Jade thought she was going to start crying, but she swallowed and continued, ‘I guess I should just take him back and hope someone else saves him.’
‘I think so, yes.’ Her granddad patted her shoulder and then stroked the pony’s neck. ‘He’s a quiet fellow, isn’t he? Didn’t stand on you during the night?’
Jade looked at her granddad; he was smiling slightly now. She started laughing. ‘Nope, not once.’
Before taking the pony back to the strays’ paddock, Jade, at her granddad’s insistence, had some toast and Milo. She was unusually hungry and was just spreading apricot jam on her fourth piece of toast, when a ute and horse-float pulled in the driveway.
‘Granddad, there’s someone here.’
‘That’ll be Jim. He said he’d be round early.’
When she’d finished her toast and rinsed her plate, Jade went out to see the pony.
‘Sorry, fella,’ she said. ‘Got to take you back to the pound; nothing for you to eat here.’ The pony quickly proved her wrong by starting to strip leaves off her granddad’s pittosporum hedge.
‘Oh, you want to stay, don’t you?’ Jade sighed, resting her head on the pony’s neck.
‘You shouldn’t let her eat that,’ a voice said. Jade turned around and saw a tall, bald man wearing a homespun jersey. ‘It’s poisonous for horses.’
Jade quickly pulled on the lead rope and yanked the pony’s head away from the hedge. ‘Is it a she?’ Jade asked the man, surprised. ‘I’d thought it was a stallion.’
The man laughed. ‘No, she’s definitely a mare. With feeding and riding she could be a lovely pony—a bit ewe-necked, but kind eyes. What do you call her? Not Bob or Derek, I hope.’
‘She doesn’t have a name—she isn’t mine.’ Jade looked guiltily at the man, wondering what ‘ewe-necked’ meant.
‘Oh,’ he said.
‘I stole her from the pound last night because I didn’t want her to get made into glue, but we haven’t got enough room or grass for her here, so I have to take her back now.’ This spilled out of Jade’s mouth before she knew what she was saying. To her relief, the man didn’t look disappointed or start laughing at her. He smiled, but his expression was serious.
