broadly.
The heat from the sun burns into my back and my hair is damp and sticky under my hat.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce me?’ Mum says, hovering. I can see her eyeing him up, and I think please, please, please, don’t say anything embarrassing.
‘This is Matt, the vet. Matt, this is Kathryn, my mother.’
‘And groom,’ Mum adds.
‘That as well,’ I say cheerfully. ‘I couldn’t do it without her.’
‘We’d better be moving on,’ she says. ‘Willow needs to cool down before the cross-country.’
‘Ah, I won’t be watching that.’ Matt looks at me through narrowed eyes, his mood more serious now. ‘As I said before, I don’t understand you horse people. You’ll break your neck one of these days.’
‘Don’t be so dramatic, I’ve been on horses since I was three.’
‘Doesn’t it ever worry you?’
‘It doesn’t.’ At least it didn’t, until he mentioned it. ‘If I thought I was going to fall off every time, I wouldn’t entertain it.’ I imagine Shane speaking to me, ‘Stay positive, VB’, and it helps.
‘Good luck,’ Matt says. ‘I’ll catch up with you later.’
‘What did he mean by that?’ Mum asks, watching him walk away towards the marquee, where the organisers are calling for the last of the jump judges to make their way to their positions on the cross-country course.
‘I don’t know.’ I shrug. ‘He’s a patient – and my vet.’ Having seen him working at Delphi’s yard, I realise I don’t want anyone else looking after Willow from now on.
‘You kept that one quiet.’
‘Any interest I have in him is purely professional.’ I look down and fiddle with the buckle on the reins.
‘I don’t think he sees it that way. Come on, Nicci. I’m not blind. He came across especially to talk to you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.’
‘Delphi says he has a girlfriend.’ I’m flattered by the attention, but nothing can come of it if he’s attached. ‘Mum, please don’t distract me. I’ve got to get Willow’s bandages on and get changed.’ I dismount and take the reins over Willow’s head to lead her back to the lorry. Henry is already in his red and black cross-country colours. He frowns and jams his skullcap on his head when he sees me, then bends down and picks up his crop, slapping it against his boot.
‘You reckon that old nag’s going to get round the course clear today?’
‘It’s her favourite phase,’ I say. ‘She’ll fly it.’
‘We’ll see.’ Henry whistles between his teeth and a girl of about eighteen emerges from the side door of his lorry with a can of cola in one hand and an apple in the other. She sticks the apple between her teeth and hangs onto Henry’s horse while he vaults into the saddle.
‘All the best,’ I say generously, in spite of his criticism of Willow.
Henry gives his mount an unnecessary slap on the flank and the horse breaks into canter with a buck that almost unseats him.
‘Serves you right,’ the girl mutters, before turning away and disappearing into the lorry.
It isn’t long before I’m back in the saddle, wearing my pale blue and purple silk over my skullcap, and an air vest for protection. Willow knows what’s coming next and she’s on her toes, shying at everything on the way to the warm-up area at the start of the course.
We pop over the log a couple of times between the red and white flags, listening to my competitors’progress via the loudspeaker announcements. Henry has gone clear within the time, so I know we have no room for error as I run through the course in my head, visualising the approach to every obstacle, as planned with Shane when we walked the course.
The starter calls me into the box. Willow prances about on the spot, jerking her head forwards in a vain attempt to snatch the reins from my hands, but I know her too well.
‘No way,’ I tell her, chuckling in spite of my nerves at the thought of jumping a course that’s at the top end of Willow’s limits
The heat from the sun burns into my back and my hair is damp and sticky under my hat.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce me?’ Mum says, hovering. I can see her eyeing him up, and I think please, please, please, don’t say anything embarrassing.
‘This is Matt, the vet. Matt, this is Kathryn, my mother.’
‘And groom,’ Mum adds.
‘That as well,’ I say cheerfully. ‘I couldn’t do it without her.’
‘We’d better be moving on,’ she says. ‘Willow needs to cool down before the cross-country.’
‘Ah, I won’t be watching that.’ Matt looks at me through narrowed eyes, his mood more serious now. ‘As I said before, I don’t understand you horse people. You’ll break your neck one of these days.’
‘Don’t be so dramatic, I’ve been on horses since I was three.’
‘Doesn’t it ever worry you?’
‘It doesn’t.’ At least it didn’t, until he mentioned it. ‘If I thought I was going to fall off every time, I wouldn’t entertain it.’ I imagine Shane speaking to me, ‘Stay positive, VB’, and it helps.
‘Good luck,’ Matt says. ‘I’ll catch up with you later.’
‘What did he mean by that?’ Mum asks, watching him walk away towards the marquee, where the organisers are calling for the last of the jump judges to make their way to their positions on the cross-country course.
‘I don’t know.’ I shrug. ‘He’s a patient – and my vet.’ Having seen him working at Delphi’s yard, I realise I don’t want anyone else looking after Willow from now on.
‘You kept that one quiet.’
‘Any interest I have in him is purely professional.’ I look down and fiddle with the buckle on the reins.
‘I don’t think he sees it that way. Come on, Nicci. I’m not blind. He came across especially to talk to you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.’
‘Delphi says he has a girlfriend.’ I’m flattered by the attention, but nothing can come of it if he’s attached. ‘Mum, please don’t distract me. I’ve got to get Willow’s bandages on and get changed.’ I dismount and take the reins over Willow’s head to lead her back to the lorry. Henry is already in his red and black cross-country colours. He frowns and jams his skullcap on his head when he sees me, then bends down and picks up his crop, slapping it against his boot.
‘You reckon that old nag’s going to get round the course clear today?’
‘It’s her favourite phase,’ I say. ‘She’ll fly it.’
‘We’ll see.’ Henry whistles between his teeth and a girl of about eighteen emerges from the side door of his lorry with a can of cola in one hand and an apple in the other. She sticks the apple between her teeth and hangs onto Henry’s horse while he vaults into the saddle.
‘All the best,’ I say generously, in spite of his criticism of Willow.
Henry gives his mount an unnecessary slap on the flank and the horse breaks into canter with a buck that almost unseats him.
‘Serves you right,’ the girl mutters, before turning away and disappearing into the lorry.
It isn’t long before I’m back in the saddle, wearing my pale blue and purple silk over my skullcap, and an air vest for protection. Willow knows what’s coming next and she’s on her toes, shying at everything on the way to the warm-up area at the start of the course.
We pop over the log a couple of times between the red and white flags, listening to my competitors’progress via the loudspeaker announcements. Henry has gone clear within the time, so I know we have no room for error as I run through the course in my head, visualising the approach to every obstacle, as planned with Shane when we walked the course.
The starter calls me into the box. Willow prances about on the spot, jerking her head forwards in a vain attempt to snatch the reins from my hands, but I know her too well.
‘No way,’ I tell her, chuckling in spite of my nerves at the thought of jumping a course that’s at the top end of Willow’s limits
Similar Books
