All that Glitters, page 16
Polly, who was still brimming with delight on the success of her own show with Joe, congratulated them in a rather roundabout manner, a dubious praise but still stipulating that they were to make it clear that they were not her pupils.
‘I’m a dressage instructor, not a circus trainer.’ Emma, waiting to go on her high-powered dressage horse while her pupils were getting into serious tangles before they had even entered the ring, snapped, ‘How you could allow Amy out in public on that dangerous horse is beyond me. It’s lucky no one was killed.’
‘Amy is not a pupil of mine. She keeps her horse in my stable but what she does with it is her own affair. According to you, that horse was unrideable, so she must be doing something right.’
‘The horse is mad and so is the girl.’
By inference so was Polly.
When she rode off Polly said tightly, ‘If we don’t beat her I
shall give up. Go in for tennis – water-skiing – anything—’ ‘Oh, you’ll win easily,’ said Alex airily. ‘We’ll be bottom, but it
was great fun. And the ponies bowing was fantastic. A real
surprise. They kept it a secret, I never knew. Fantastic!’ Everyone was saying the same, really impressed as they waited
for Susan Hodge to fetch Imogen’s jodhpurs to make her decent
before going back to the horsebox. Joe was summoned by an
imperious old lady amongst the spectators and rode over to greet
his granny with a look on his face as if summoned to the
headmaster’s office for smoking behind the bike shed and Amy,
walking Dragon round to try to unwind him, was approached
by a tough-looking, black-haired woman who ducked under the
rope and stalked towards her. Amy pulled up. The woman
shouted, ‘Hi, kid. I thought you were a goner! That bloody
horse’ll kill you sooner or later.’
‘No, Mum, he was great.’
‘You could fool me!’
Dragon wanted to move on so Amy walked away and the
woman went with her, yakking away, so Millie didn’t hear any
more conversation. But she heard Amy laugh. The first time ever.
She was stunned.
Imogen’s jodhpurs arrived and she made herself respectable
and they all trailed back to the horsebox. The crowd made way
for them, laughing and shouting compliments, and even if they
were going to be bottom they all felt great. They couldn’t see
Emma’s display from the horsebox but heard outbursts of clapping, which made Polly clench her teeth.
‘You’re going to win, darling, don’t worry,’ Alex told her. Joe, returning from his interview with his granny, brought out
a bottle of champagne and a stack of cardboard cups. ‘She thinks I’m great! She loves me! Let’s drink now, before
the results. Make us all happy.’
Millie thought he needed strong drink, having suffered Polly’s
instruction for so long and now no doubt looking forward to a
rest. Even if he hadn’t wanted it, she saw that he had a friend in
his gentle, generous horse Wake. If Polly had chosen Wake for
him she had certainly done him a good turn. Funny, she thought,
they all had horses that suited them: pretty, coquettish Sultana
for pretty, sweet Alex; sharp, snappy Red Sky for sharp, snappy
Polly; tough, dangerous Dragon for wild, inscrutable Amy.
Bluebell and Barney for herself and Imogen … she couldn’t quite
work out what that meant …
Amy joined them in time for the champagne.
Polly raised her drink and proposed the toast. ‘Here’s to us for
all doing a jolly good show!’
They all drank. Amy choked and Millie started to sneeze and
couldn’t stop.
Polly ignored them and continued: ‘And here’s to our future
in Standing Hall. I’ve signed a lease with the old girl and it’s all
settled. We move next week. And here’s thank you to Millie and
Imogen and Jake and Harry for putting up with us for so long.’ Millie choked some more, and even Imogen started snorting
with surprise. Next week they were thinking! Peace at last! More
champagne! They all started talking at once, as Polly’s news was
a surprise to everyone, and only stopped when an announcement
came over the loudspeaker:
‘The judges now have the results of the dressage competition.’ The crowd went silent, and the champagne drinkers all froze. The voice continued: ‘We found it very difficult to come to a
decision as it seemed to us that we were confronted with skill of
a very high order and as well with a high degree of entertainment.
Although we know, strictly speaking, the prize should go to the
most skilled, we thought that the winner should be the entry that most entertained the happy crowd that we have here today. Therefore we are awarding first prize to the Carmen bullfighting entry, and second prize to the Polly Power dressage duo. Please
come into the ring and receive your awards.’
Having beaten Emma, Polly’s tight face broke into a gasp of
delight, while the Carmen bullfighting entry stood astonished
with their champagne cups still raised. Alex was thrilled, Millie
struck dumb, and Imogen moaned, ‘I can’t go into the ring
looking like this!’ She was still flounced at the top and did look
extremely odd.
‘Go on, it’s part of the entertainment,’ Jake told her. So they got a leg up to sit sideways on Bluebell and Barney
and Alex led them into the ring with Amy at his side. Polly and
Joe followed. The crowd roared. Alex was loving every minute
of glory and Sultana did some Spanish trot unasked, as big a
show-off as her rider. Dragon was all ready to go straight into a
gallop again, and Amy as usual had her hands full keeping him
calm. But she sat so calmly herself and handled him with such
skill that the knowledgeable in the crowd gave her a round of
genuine applause as she followed Alex round the ring. Millie and
Imogen managed to stay on board but reached the exit with
great relief.
‘Let’s not bow again!’ Millie hissed. ‘They’re bound to get
it wrong.’
‘No. Enough is enough.’
Amy’s mother was prancing about by the exit, yelling ‘Good
on yer, Amy! Great stuff!’
She would have made an excellent bull herself, Millie thought,
a larger tank-like being than her daughter, and obviously not one
to cross. It made Millie laugh to see Amy laugh at her mother –
what a pair! But a relief – such a relief – to know now that they
were back to having their dear old stable yard to themselves
again. Polly’s pronouncement had been a shock, a wonderful
shock.
She rode back to her parents’ Land Rover with Imogen, both
of them laughing at the shock of winning. Her mother and father
were amazed at the ponies’ tricks and full of praise; a picnic was
produced, the ponies let off on long ropes to graze and eventually the two girls changed into ordinary clothes and saddled up
to ride home.
The sun was casting long shadows through the woods and it
was a perfect ride to end the day: the path they knew so well
down through the trees to the river, where they let the ponies
take a long drink. They turned the ponies out and went home
before the others arrived, not wanting any more excitement. ‘Amy might be a reformed character now her mother’s
boyfriend had disappeared from the scene. Funny her mum
turning up like that. Glad she’s not my mother.’
Imogen set off across the field for home and Millie walked
back up the hill, feeling glad of her own parents, who had
enjoyed seeing their children make fools of themselves at the
show. Amy’s reformed mother had come to watch her daughter
but Imogen’s parents hadn’t come, although they were not
abroad or in London as they often were. Odd, Millie thought.
People are funny.
Much later, after the excitements of the day and a hearty supper, Millie knew she would never go to sleep in a hurry, so decided to walk down the hill and say goodnight to the horses. All her fears were over: the show had been brilliant and the news of Polly’s departure was fantastic. The place would be theirs again and they could always pick up the friendships whenever they liked by visiting up the hill, it was no distance.
It was becoming dark now and all the horses had been turned out after their hard day. Millie could make out the white shape of Sultana grazing with the devoted Wake in close attendance, Red Sky as usual on her cantankerous own, and Dragon grazing with the two ponies. But so much for her solitary goodnight to dear Bluebell: Amy was there talking to Dragon. Millie thought she would have gone home by now to her reunited mother but obviously habit died hard.
She walked across the field with her carrots for the ponies, unsure as always how to approach Amy. But Amy appeared to be in much the same relaxed mood as herself, for the rare smile appeared as Millie approached.
‘Dragon was great, wasn’t he?’
‘Fantastic. Great you stayed on. I never would’ve.’ ‘Yeah. Pity about the horns falling off but I got everything
else right.’ Millie remembered the panic in the crowd as they all scrambled for safety at Dragon’s approach, but supposed Amy had never doubted that she would stay in control.
‘I’m glad it’s over though. We never knew if the ponies would bow or not, for all the time we’d spent trying to teach them, but they did it beautifully.’
‘Yeah. Alex was gobsmacked. It made a super ending.’ They fed Dragon and the ponies carrots, and Millie said: ‘You going home tonight? Now your mum’s on her own
again?’
‘Yeah. He’s gone. It’s okay now.’ She hesitated and then said,
‘I don’t want to go up there with Polly and them. I’d rather
stay here.’
Her voice was questioning, rather pathetic. She was so used to
being not wanted, Millie realised. Floored by the suggestion,
Millie didn’t know how to answer.
‘Well …’
Her mind raced: what would Imogen have to say about it?
What would the boys think? It was their place too. The four of
them had always meshed together in mostly total amity, arguing,
joking, gossiping, rarely falling out about anything that mattered. But Amy, with her scowl, her gracelessness … how would
she fit in?
Nobody wanted her, only Dragon.
Millie prevaricated. ‘I’ll have to ask the others.’
Even to her own ears, that sounded unkind. Just when she
had felt awash with a newfound peace of mind she was now
assaulted by a far bigger problem than teaching Bluebell to play
the trumpet. Her mind raced. She wanted time.
‘Are you going home now? Shall I walk down to the bridge
with you?’
‘If you like.’ Truculently.
The evening was so quiet, the first stars coming out in a deep blue sky, not a breath of wind, the familiar river smell drifting across the meadows. The defunct road was bliss; there had never been silence in the past, as there was now. They walked without talking, but Millie knew Amy’s question was hanging in the air between them like something tangible, a cobweb of doubt. And as she went, passing first Red Sky and then the white mare and her companion Wake, Millie felt a strange confidence rising in her. Nothing had gone wrong today for all her fears, she now felt nothing but huge contentment with her life, with her friends, her family, her pony … so why was she so hesitant, so habitually nervous when it came to making a decision? What did it matter to the others, whether Amy was there or not? Still she
hesitated.
They came to the river’s edge where Amy had pulled up her kayak, the ‘borrowed’ craft she habitually used to cross the river. She wriggled into it and picked up the paddle.
‘Goodnight then.’
‘Goodnight.’
She pushed out from the bank and drifted away on the current. Gleams of phosphorescence danced on the surface of the water in her wake. Millie stared.
Then she shouted: ‘Yes, Amy, yes! You stay!’
Did Amy hear her? All Millie saw was the phosphorescence break into a thousand shards of delight as Amy furiously dug in the paddle and spun the kayak into the centre of the river. Millie laughed. It was done.
She turned and started to walk home.
KM Peyton, All that Glitters
