Hopes Page 2

  “She doesn’t need to be,” Joe replied.

  “Doesn’t need to be?” Len stared as if he’d gone mad. “She’ll be off like a damn rocket any moment. Don’t be stupid, Joe. Tie her up.”

  “She’s fine, Dad. I’ve been teaching her to stand still. I read about it in my books. You give them a choice and—”

  “Choice! She’s a horse, not a flamin’ person!” Len snapped. He seemed to be in one of his darker moods that day. “You and your ruddy books!”

  “But this way really works, Dad. It—”

  “Oh for—” Len broke off and swore. “Just get that damn pony tied up, Joe! I’m not risking her running off and breaking her leg just because you fancy yourself as some kind of horse whisperer. And you stand up there!” he growled to Solomon who was moving around. The horse continued to fidget. “Stand!” Len hit the horse in the stomach with his hand. The horse threw his head in surprise, but then stood still.

  Ellie saw Joe’s shoulders tighten, but she knew he wouldn’t object or argue with Len. Without saying another word, he tied Milly up.

  Ellie found it harder not to say anything. She bit her lip as she wished she could speak for Joe, telling her uncle how ignorant he was being. But Ellie had her own reasons for holding back—she needed to be able to keep Spirit on the yard. High Peak Stables was so isolated there were no other yards nearby where she could move Spirit to. If she angered Len, especially when he was in one of his really black fault-finding moods, there was a real danger that he would refuse to let her keep Spirit there.

  “Where’s Luke?” Len demanded. “I need a hand shifting some feed sacks.”

  “He’s out on a ride,” Joe answered. “I… I could help.”

  “You?” Len snorted derisively. “You’re as much use as a wet paper bag when it comes to things like that! I need Luke.”

  Ellie glared. Her uncle was so unfair. Joe worked incredibly hard, but he couldn’t help being slimly built and not as strong as broad-shouldered Luke. She saw Joe take a breath. In the past he had always been good at letting his dad’s comments roll over him and remained unbothered, but recently Ellie had sensed a new anger with his father simmering deep inside him. It had started after Len made the decision to have Joe’s old pony, Merlin, put to sleep. Merlin had injured himself in the field while Joe was out at a show. Ellie had begged her uncle to give the pony a chance, to see if he would recover—or at least to wait until Joe came back—but her uncle had refused to listen and Merlin had been shot while Joe was away.

  Len handed Solomon’s reins to Ellie. “Untack him,” he ordered brusquely and then he strode away.

  Ellie let out a muttered exclamation as soon as he was out of earshot. “He drives me mad!” She looked at Solomon. “He didn’t even say please.”

  “What did you expect? You know Dad,” Joe said. “Do this. Do that. You just have to do it.”

  “Or get yelled at.”

  “Or worse.” Joe frowned. “I don’t know why he’s in such a mood today. He seemed OK when he took Solomon up to the school. Oh, well.” He changed the subject. “We’d best get on. I’ll put Milly away and sort the horsebox ready for the show tomorrow. Can you untack Solomon and then wash Fizz?”

  “Sure,” Ellie said. Patting the gray hunter’s neck, she started to untack him. There was always something more to do on the yard.

  That night, when everything was finally ready for the show the next day, the ponies groomed and washed, the tack cleaned, the horsebox packed, Ellie went to Spirit’s stable. The grooms had left now and Len, Joe, and Luke were all in the house. The yard was quiet and peaceful, with only the occasional cat trotting by. Spirit was lying down on his straw bed. As she let herself in, he whickered softly, his eyes lighting up.

  “Hey, boy.” Ellie crouched down next to him and he nuzzled her hands. She let out a deep sigh. Nothing beat the feeling of being with Spirit. Settling down beside him, she put her arm over his back, feeling tiredness wash over her. She wondered whether to talk to him, but she didn’t have the energy left. It was enough just to sit with him in the peace and quiet. Even though their minds weren’t connected, she could feel the love and comfort coming from him.

  “Oh, Spirit, I’m so lucky to have you,” Ellie murmured.

  She stroked his side, feeling the bump of his ribs under her fingers. But at least he had eaten more of his feed that night. She’d made a bran mash and added extra carrots and molasses to it, stroking him and hand-feeding him. He’d finished almost the whole bucket with her beside him.

  Maybe he’d just been bored with his old feed? But then he would have told her that, surely? Ellie felt a flicker of worry creeping up inside her, but forced her anxiety down. He’d eaten tonight’s feed—that was the main thing.

  “I’ll feed you up again,” she promised him. “Even if I have to hand-feed you every day. You’ll soon put on weight.”

  She rested her head against his neck. She hadn’t thought it was possible to love anyone or anything as much as she loved Spirit. She’d have to go in into the house for supper soon, but for now it was just her and Spirit wrapped in a circle of warmth and contentment and it was the only place in the world she wanted to be.

  Chapter Two

  IT WAS A VERY EARLY start the next day to travel to the show down south. The ponies were loaded into the horsebox at 3 a.m. and then Len set off on the long drive. Ellie and Helen traveled inside the horsebox, while Luke went with Len in the cab. None of the ponies Joe rode were competing that day, so he stayed on the yard with Stuart and Sasha. Ellie knew he’d be glad not to be there. He’d ridden in shows all his life but was much happier at home, working with the horses. Ellie found it hard to imagine feeling like that. She loved everything about showing, from preparing the ponies to actually riding in the ring, and whenever she was placed or won she felt amazing. It was the biggest buzz ever!

  As the horsebox chugged along the winding roads of the Peak District, heading for the motorway, Ellie and Helen settled down to rest. The living accommodation of the horsebox was like an incredibly luxurious caravan, with a leather sofa and smart small kitchen, wide-screen TV, and two sleeping spaces, one above the cab and one above the horses. There was a shower and toilet, and every available space inside had cupboards built into it for storage.

  Helen went to sleep in the bed above the horses, while Ellie put her iPod on and curled up on the sofa with a blanket. She was glad Helen was the groom that day. Helen was in her late twenties and, although she was quiet, she was friendly. Sasha, the pretty, blonde junior groom, on the other hand, always ignored Ellie. She went out with Luke and spent all her free time with him or just talking to Helen. Ellie had the strong impression Sasha didn’t like her and now, as she chose a different track on her iPod, she wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that over the last few months she and Luke had become better friends.

  An image of Luke came into her head as she pulled the blanket around her. Tall and dark-haired, with glinting blue eyes, he was undeniably attractive and always had a string of girls ringing him and wanting to go out with him. At first, Ellie had really disliked him. He’d seemed so flippant and arrogant, not caring about anything or anyone, but over the last few months she’d realized there was another, more complex, side to him.

  Luke hadn’t had the easiest of childhoods. Although his parents were rich, they spent little time with him, sending him to various expensive boarding schools, and he’d spent most of his breaks with Len and Joe. He’d once told Ellie that Len had been more of a father to him than his own dad had ever been. Knowing that her uncle—so often cold, hard, and bullying—was the best dad Luke had ever known made Ellie feel sorry for him. And beneath the don’t-care front she knew that he did care about some things. He was incredibly focused when it came to shows and he was very open-minded, prepared to try anything if it would help a horse perform better. She’d been working with him on Lucifer, who he often rode, and together they’d made a massive difference to how Lucifer behaved
.

  She just wished he would let his nice side show through more. When he was flippant, he drove her mad. For a moment, she remembered how a few weeks ago he’d laughingly asked her if she ever wondered what it would be like if the two of them got together. And yet he was still going out with Sasha! As if she ever would anyway—Luke had to be the most unfaithful person of all time. Sasha was welcome to him.

  Ellie pushed Luke to the back of her mind and quickly turned her thoughts to the show. Milly had been really naughty in the ring the week before, fidgeting and spinning around whenever she was supposed to stand still. Ellie had been told off by her uncle and had since been working hard with Milly—she hoped the practice was going to pay off.

  Sighing, she pulled the blanket closer. She was getting sleepy. Shutting her eyes, she lost herself in her music and drifted off.

  They arrived at the show ring at 6 a.m. Len had four horses at the show that day—Milly, who was in the 14 hands-high show hunter pony class; Zak, who Luke was riding in the intermediate show hunter class; and Fizz and Bill, owned by a client called Veronica Armstrong. Her children came for lessons with Len and he prepared their ponies for the show ring. Ellie couldn’t imagine having a pony and not looking after it, only seeing it at a show or when having lessons. Privately she thought the Armstrongs were very annoying: Emmie had just turned five and was always whining, and Oliver was ten and just wanted to play on his portable PlayStation, while their mother was constantly fussing around them. But they were Len’s clients and Ellie knew she had to be polite and helpful. She helped Helen prepare Fizz and then escaped to work Milly in, just as she heard Emmie Armstrong’s shrill voice coming towards the horsebox. “But why can’t I have an ice cream? I want one!”

  Ellie thankfully rode Milly away to the outskirts of the show ground. The sky was cornflower-blue, and white cow parsley billowed at the sides of the field like drifts of snow. Milly pulled excitedly at the reins, every muscle in her body tense with excitement, her nostrils flaring.

  “Steady, girl,” Ellie murmured soothingly. Happiness welled up deep inside her—she loved this time at a show ground, when everything was just starting and the whole day stretched ahead, full of possibilities.

  She moved Milly into a trot, circling her and riding through the different paces, asking her to back up and stand. When she was happy that Milly had settled down and was listening to her, she rode her back to the horsebox to start preparing her for the ring. The Armstrongs had left to take part in the lead-rein class with Fizz.

  Ellie plaited Milly’s mane in the peace and quiet, then groomed her thoroughly. It was hot work and Ellie stripped down to her jodhpurs and blue vest top. She had almost finished and was running a cloth over Milly’s shining chestnut-brown coat, when Luke rode up on Zak.

  “Looking good!” Luke said. He was in his work clothes, gray jodhpurs, and T-shirt, showing off his tanned, muscular arms. He dismounted effortlessly, throwing a leg over the front of the saddle.

  “Thanks,” Ellie said, pleased.

  Luke grinned. “Milly looks all right too.”

  Ellie blushed and turned away, hearing Luke chuckle. She knew he was just teasing her and she cursed herself for reacting. The last thing he needed was someone boosting his ego even more!

  “So, are you looking forward to your class?” Luke asked as he started removing Zak’s tack.

  Glad to be on safer ground, talking about the ponies, Ellie nodded. “I’m just hoping Milly behaves herself.”

  “Len’ll murder you if she doesn’t,” Luke said cheerfully. “He was so mad last week.”

  “Thanks. I do remember!”

  Luke grinned. “You’ll be OK. Just remember ‘positive mental attitude.’ That’s what you have to start off with.”

  “Positive mental attitude,” Ellie repeated.

  “You got it!” Luke’s blue gaze met Ellie’s. “It’ll be fine!”

  Realizing it was nearly time for her class, Ellie went to change in the horsebox, swapping her old riding clothes for spotless yellow jodhpurs and a deep-brown tweed jacket. She coiled her blonde hair into a neat bun and tied her number around her waist. When she was done, she took a deep breath. This was it!

  She returned to find Luke putting the finishing touches to Milly for her, so she didn’t dirty her show clothes. He was smoothing down the stray hairs around Milly’s plaits and making sure her noseband was straight. “She’s ready. I’ll be along to watch you when you go in,” he said, holding the stirrup as Ellie mounted. “And remember, you can win this.”

  “Thanks!” Ellie said gratefully. It was at moments like this when she liked Luke best—when he dropped the teasing act and was just like a normal person. No, not just a normal person, she realized, but someone who understood her love of competing. Taking a deep breath, she squeezed her heels against Milly’s sides and headed over to the rings.

  There were people everywhere—trainers talking to riders on horses, parents in tweed jackets, grooms carrying wicker baskets overflowing with brushes and cloths, lead-rein riders having their boots polished and red hair ribbons adjusted, and ponies being jumped over practice fences.

  Ellie spotted her uncle, holding Fizz, with Veronica Armstrong standing beside him, dressed smartly in navy-blue with a matching hat. Emmie was with them, contentedly eating an ice cream. A red rosette hung on the string around Emmie’s waist, the tails tucked neatly into her jacket pocket. She must have won her class and, judging by the 13 hands-high class that they were watching, Oliver was doing well too. He and Bill were standing third in the preliminary line-up. Len was smiling, his face approving for once.

  “We’d better keep up the good work,” Ellie muttered to Milly.

  She didn’t feel like talking to the Armstrongs and so she warmed the pony up, keeping an eye on the ring. When the placings were announced, Oliver was moved up a place and presented with the blue second-place rosette. He looked very smug.

  “Could have gone one better, but it’s not bad,” Ellie heard her uncle say.

  She walked Milly on. “Hey, you!” Luke came striding over. Ellie saw how the girls riding in the working-in area all looked at him as he passed. “How’s it going?” he asked.

  “OK, but I’d better keep her moving.”

  Luke nodded. “Just remember to get a killer gallop in—and don’t go into the ring and follow the best pony like you did last week. Pick a donkey and follow that.”

  Despite the jokey tone of his voice, Ellie knew it was good advice. “OK.”

  “You can win this class,” he told her. “What have you got to remember?”

  “Positive mental attitude?” Ellie said.

  He grinned. “Actually, I was going to say kick some ass!”

  Ellie giggled, which instantly made her relax. A second later, the steward was calling her class in. “Here we go,” she breathed to the pony, and clicking her tongue, she headed into the ring.

  As Milly walked through the entrance, Ellie’s shoulders moved back and she sat up straight. She loved being in the ring and she knew Milly did too. The chestnut pony walked energetically, her ears pricked, neck softly arched. Remembering Luke’s advice from earlier, Ellie circled around to fit in behind a plain bay with a slightly coarse head. When all the competitors were in the ring, the steward asked them to trot, then canter on both reins, before they took it in turns to gallop down the long side of the ring. Ellie knew some riders worried about pushing on too hard in case they couldn’t stop their pony at the end, but starting with a good gallop could really impress the judge, which was important in a class with as many good ponies as this one. She felt Milly’s excitement as they cantered around in preparation; the pony knew what was coming. Ellie wondered whether to play safe and just let her go for a few strides before slowing down. But as she passed Luke at the ringside and saw him raise his eyebrows questioningly, she made up her mind. Playing safe wouldn’t win the class. She’d rather risk getting into trouble than be careful.

  Reaching the corner,
she loosened her reins slightly, giving Milly her head and pushing on as hard as she could. The pony responded, thundering down the long side. Ellie had a worrying moment as they reached the corner and wondered if she would be able to stop, but she kept smiling and managed to bring Milly back to a canter, hoping it looked as if she was in perfect control.

  Nailed it! she thought to herself with a leap of delight.

  She glanced across at Luke. He clapped his hands loudly in approval and gave her a broad grin. She only just stopped herself from grinning back.

  The judge also seemed impressed. Ellie was called in first. Each of the ponies would now do an individual show, so the judge could have a good look at them. After that, they would all untack and the judge would watch them walk and trot in-hand before making the final decisions on placing.

  Ellie rode out and halted, smiling at the judge. All her practicing that week paid off and Milly stood perfectly, four square, ears pricked. Ellie rode her away and began to trot in a figure of eight. The time flew by, Ellie finished with another thundering gallop and then brought the pony back to the judge, halted and bowed, before patting Milly hard and walking her back into her place. It had gone brilliantly! She watched the other ponies go and then it was time for the first ponies in the line to be untacked. Ellie’s uncle came into the ring with a basket of grooming tools.

  “Good work, lass,” he said as he started taking Milly’s saddle off. Ellie just gave a brief nod. Since Merlin’s death, her uncle’s praise had meant nothing to her. But glancing across to the ringside, she saw Luke give her a big thumbs-up. That made her smile.

  She stood by Milly’s head, stroking her and talking as her uncle brushed her over, and then it was time to lead her out. Milly behaved perfectly.

  Ellie held her breath as the steward was finally given the list of winners and started walking towards the line of ponies. Who would it be?

  “Number one hundred and forty-two,” the judge called, pointing straight at her and Milly. Triumph swept through Ellie. They’d won!