Fortune and the Golden Trophy (9 page)

Issie, who was still in shock from the kiss, and the crazy way it had happened, just nodded dumbly. When she reached the corner she turned around and headed the same way she had come, back up the road again towards the pony club. It wasn’t until she reached the main road that her heart stopped pounding and she finally thought about what had just happened. She had just broken up with her boyfriend, had a huge fight, kissed and got back together again—and she hadn’t stopped trotting the whole time!

Ever since their kiss, Issie and Aidan had seen each other almost every day. They often trained their horses together at Winterflood Farm when Issie got home after school. Issie would trot Fortune all the way to Winterflood Farm to meet Aidan and then ride back to the pony-club paddocks again as part of the pony’s fitness workout.

Issie’s determination to stick to Avery’s exercise regime was definitely paying off. Not only was Fortune’s belly shrinking with each passing day, the pony’s attitude had improved too. He was much less nappy and his manners under saddle had improved enormously.

Some things about the piebald hadn’t changed of course. Fortune was a very oddball character. He never
went without his afternoon nap and when Issie arrived at the paddocks after school she would find Fortune lying down fast asleep under the magnolia tree. Issie knew the bond between them had grown because the piebald no longer ignored her and kept sleeping. Instead, he would raise his head, prick up his ears and then clamber to his feet with a grunt, before coming over to the gate to greet her with a merry nicker. Issie had taken to bringing him peppermints and Fortune loved them. He would hold the tiny mints in his mouth and suck on them, shaking his head up and down with delight.

“You’re a total kook,” Issie would say. But now when she said it, she meant it in a good way, with a broad grin on her face. Issie’s attitude to the piebald had totally changed. Regular lessons over the past two weeks with Avery had really helped, and she now understood how to take control when she was riding this horse. Fortune was inclined to daydream and it was up to Issie to keep his mind on the job, always moving him up to the bridle, asking him to pay attention to her legs. Her aids had grown stronger from the work she had been doing and although she still carried the whip, she no longer needed it.

It was about two weeks after Fortune’s workouts
began that Avery started to incorporate some jumping training into the piebald’s lessons. Issie would trot Fortune to Winterflood Farm and by the time she arrived the piebald would already be nicely warmed up and ready to start jumping.

Avery started with the basics at first, trotting poles and cavaletti. But Fortune was a Blackthorn Pony and his natural jumping bloodlines meant that he soon progressed to small jumps, popping over painted rails with ease. Within the first week, Avery was erecting decent-sized showjumping courses for the pair and they were tackling them with ease. Fortune was never nappy when he was jumping—he loved it! He was almost too eager when he approached the fences and Issie had to hold him back.

“Look how his ears prick forward when he sees a fence,” Avery pointed out during a lesson one day. “He reminds me of the first time I saw you on Comet.”

Fortune had the same scopey jump as the skewbald too. But he was still green and Avery explained to Issie how important it was to give him loads of experience jumping all kinds of fences. Each day, when Issie turned up at Winterflood Farm, she would find a new obstacle set up that she had never seen before. On
Monday it was 44-gallon drums painted bright blue. On Tuesday Avery had strung old car tyres over a log. And so the week went on until Friday came and Issie arrived to find a full wire hunting fence set up in the middle of the ring.

The wire fence was the size of a normal jump. It stood about a metre-twenty high, and looked just like the wire-and-post fence that ran around a pony paddock. The wooden palings which ran vertically through the wire were painted white and the wire itself was just regular number eight wire.

“You’ve never seen one of these before?” Avery asked.

Issie shook her head.

“It’s a common jump in round-the-ring or Show Hunter classes,” Avery said. “Show Hunter classes are designed to resemble the kinds of natural obstacles that you’ll find if you’re out riding in a hunt. You get gates, brush fences and wire fences like this one. They’re jazzed up a bit for the show ring of course—the wooden bits get painted white.”

Issie looked at the wire fence and pulled a face.

“Something wrong?” asked Avery.

“It looks dangerous,” Issie admitted. “The wire is so thin. How do horses see the wire and know to jump it?
Won’t they just crash into it and slice their legs or something?”

Avery shook his head. “Don’t worry, there are wire fences like this when riders go out hunting and the horses have no trouble with them.”

Issie didn’t know what to say. Avery seemed very certain—but the jump looked so lethal!

“How do I approach it?” she asked.

“Just like any other fence. It’s a new obstacle so come in slowly and give Fortune a chance to have a bit of a look and then just pop him over it.”

Avery glanced around the arena. “We’ll set up a bit of a course for you to ride first and then you can do the wire last.”

The course that Avery constructed consisted of a few of the obstacles that Issie had already jumped Fortune over. There were 44-gallon drums, tyres, a hog’s back of red and white painted rails, a white painted gate, and finally, in the centre of the ring, stood the wire.

“Take him around the outside circuit once first without doing the wire,” Avery told Issie as she warmed Fortune up, trotting him in a twenty-metre circle. “Then do it a second time and jump the wire.”

Fortune’s bouncy trot eased into a loping canter as
Issie rode the piebald around the warm-up circle, ready to take him over the first fence. She leant forward—but not too far. She wanted to keep her bottom in contact with the saddle just in case she needed to really urge the piebald on. As they approached the oil drums Issie checked Fortune’s stride, then let him go and put her legs on right in front of the jump. The piebald did a lovely take-off and they landed on the other side with Issie already looking to their next fence. The piebald stood back a bit at the tyre jump, but Issie put her legs on more firmly and sat down a little to make sure Fortune obeyed her aids and he jumped neatly once again. He had no trouble with the red and white hog’s back and positively flew over the gate before coming back to Avery.

“Very nice,” Avery said. “You could have done with a bit more impulsion coming into that tyre jump, but otherwise, very good. Now let’s try it again and this time, take him over the wire as the last fence in the course.”

As Issie did the warm-up circle before the first jump things felt different somehow. She had butterflies—which was nothing new—but this time, they didn’t feel like butterflies. They felt like worms, writhing about, making her feel sick with anxiety. She looked over at the wire fence and the worms began to wriggle even harder.

“You should be looking at the first fence!” Avery called out to her. “Concentrate on where you’re going.”

Issie nodded and pushed Fortune on into a canter. As the pony bore down on the oil drums for the second time there was no hesitation in his stride and Issie let him judge his own pace, keeping her legs on for the last two strides just to urge him over. She kept Fortune’s canter rhythm steady coming into the tyres so that he popped over much more neatly, and he made a lovely job of the hog’s back.

This time, as they flew over the white gate, instead of preparing to pull him up, Issie kept her canter steady and turned to look at the wire fence. She looped Fortune around the edge of the ring, aiming him at the fence nice and straight, with room for at least six strides as they approached the wire. She was still quite far back when she decided she needed to speed up to get over the jump and urged Fortune on.

As his stride got faster Fortune began to realise that this jump was different. He began to fret, lifting his head above the bit. The whites of his eyes began to show as he boggled at the wire ahead of him and his canter became disunited and wobbly. As Fortune began to pull against Issie’s hands she snatched at the reins, trying to keep him
under control. They were two strides out from the wire and Issie was suddenly convinced that the piebald wasn’t going to jump. She sat down hard in the saddle and squeezed her legs, but it didn’t help.

At the very last minute, instead of taking off, Fortune baulked and swerved dramatically to the left. Issie let out a shriek and lost her balance as the pony shot out from underneath her. She felt the world go into slow motion. There was a moment when she grabbed at Fortune’s neck, trying to stay on, but it was too late. She was too far over and tumbling hard, right on top of the wire fence.

Shock temporarily numbed her to the pain of impact and it took a few seconds before she felt the throbbing in her ribs. She pulled up her T-shirt and saw that a fence paling must have jabbed her because there was a big red mark. It hadn’t broken the skin, but it would no doubt turn into a very purple bruise. Her hand was hurting too and she realised that she must have tried to break her fall, whacking it against the wire.

“Are you all right?” Avery yelled out.

“Yeah,” said Issie, “I’m fine. Nothing broken.”

Fortune, meanwhile, was still standing by the jump. He hadn’t run away when Issie had fallen. He seemed to know that he should just stand and wait for his rider.
Issie grabbed his reins and led the piebald over to meet Avery who was running towards her.

“Are you sure you’re OK?” he asked.

Issie nodded. “My ribs hurt a bit.”

Avery looked relieved. “What do you think happened there?”

“I don’t know.” Issie was still shaking and trying not to look upset in front of her instructor. “He just went all wrong coming into the fence and I was trying to get him back under control. We got our striding wrong and he stopped.”

“Ready to try it again then?” asked Avery.

Issie couldn’t believe it. “You want me to do it again?”

“Absolutely,” Avery said. “You can’t stop now. We’re trying to school Fortune to go over any jump you confront him with. If you quit on a bad note like this then that’s the message he’ll be left with at the end of training. You have to get him over this jump and end on a positive note or he’ll think that stopping at the fence is the right thing to do.”

Issie knew Avery was right. Fortune needed to learn that the wire was nothing to be afraid of. But how could she teach him that when inside she was still utterly shaken by her fall?

“Here,” Avery said, “I’ll give you a leg up.”

Reluctantly, Issie let Avery lift her back into the saddle.

“Take him around the whole arena at a canter,” Avery instructed. “Ride him over the white gate first to get him into stride and then turn and take the wire again. And approach it slower this time.”

Issie felt sick with nerves as she rode around the arena at a canter and faced up to the white gate. Fortune jumped it easily. But once again, as he came into the wire, he began to show signs of panic, lifting his head high and speeding up. At the last minute, Issie fought to get control back, pulling hard on the reins. Then she gave a last minute kick and a growl, but it didn’t help. Right in front of the jump, Fortune stopped dead.

This time, Issie managed to hang on, but she was totally shaken now. What was going wrong?

“OK,” Avery said, looking serious. “Come around and do that again, but now I want you to do something for me as you come in to the wire. I want you to count the strides of the canter out loud to me. Shout them out as you approach the fence.”

Issie fought back the sick feelings and the voice inside her telling her to stop as they cantered one more time around the ring. Over the white gate, she prepared
herself in advance, looking at the wire. She could hear Avery’s voice booming out as she approached the fence. “Let go of his mouth!” Avery was shouting. “Now put your legs on! Count the canter strides! Now!”

“One! Two! Three!” Issie shouted out loud as Fortune came in to the wire and stood off it for a split second, considering whether or not to jump. At last, he put in an extra stride, then leapt inelegantly over the fence. Issie, who hadn’t quite been ready for take off, found herself flying up out of the saddle and landing with a bit of a jolt on the other side. Her pulse was racing. She was overwhelmed by adrenalin, shaking and sweating, but at least they were over!

“Well done!” Avery called out. “Much better! I think that’s a good note to end him on today, don’t you?”

Issie nodded gratefully. She was only too keen to finish immediately. Going over that wire had been absolutely terrifying.

“You’ll get the hang of it and so will he,” Avery said, as they led the piebald back to the gates. “The important thing is that you stuck with it and got him over. Riders must never give in when a horse is in training,” he smiled at Issie. “You know what they say—fortune favours the brave.”

Right now Issie didn’t feel very brave at all. If Avery had looked at her hands, he would have seen that Issie was still shaking. In fact, she didn’t stop shaking until she had ridden all the way from Winterflood Farm and was back at the pony club once more.

With the Chevalier Point dressage day approaching, Issie had a good excuse to forget about jumping for the next week and focus on learning her dressage test.

The dressage day would be Fortune’s first ever show and Issie had entered him in the novice class for horses who had never competed before. The novice test wasn’t complicated—just a few twenty-metre circles and lots of trot to canter transitions. Issie had run through it a few times and been surprised to find that Fortune did it quite nicely. Even though his bloodlines were made for showjumping, and his paces were a bit rough for dressage, the piebald was doing his best to please her. She could sense that Fortune was really trying his hardest as he grunted and bounced his way through their rehearsals.

As the dressage day grew closer Issie was quietly confident that the piebald would actually put in a reasonable performance.

With all the effort she was putting into Fortune, Issie hadn’t had enough time to train properly with Blaze. She was worried that the mare wouldn’t be ready to do the advanced test that weekend. Issie had managed to ride Blaze a few times each week since she brought her back into work, but was that enough? Issie had been thinking about withdrawing when the decision was made for her. She turned up at the paddock two days before the show to find that Blaze was lame.

Avery came immediately, took one look at the mare and confirmed Issie’s diagnosis.

“It’s probably a stone bruise,” he said, examining Blaze’s near foreleg. “I’ll call the farrier straight away. That shoe will have to come off.”

The farrier clipped back the nails and levered off the metal shoe, exposing a massive stone bruise which oozed pus when it was cut open.

“It’s a bad one,” the farrier told Issie. “I’ve cut away the damaged hoof, but you’ll need to poultice her for a week and you won’t be able to ride her for at least a fortnight.”

Issie was hugely disappointed. She had struggled to
get Blaze back into work and now this! Stella, meanwhile, had changed her mind about riding Comet too. She had been planning to enter the skewbald in the advanced class. Then, a week before the show, Mrs Tarrant took her to see a prospective pony to buy. The new pony seemed perfect and the owners had let her take him for a week on trial. Now Stella was planning to ride him at the dressage day instead of Comet.

“I’m sure he’s the right one. He’s not another disaster like Misty,” Stella insisted. In fact, this new pony seemed like the opposite of Misty in every way, and had no conformation problems. He looked utterly perfect and even had fancy breeding and a flashy name—Quantum Leap. He was a very showy pony, a glossy bay, fourteen-two hands high with swishy, elevated paces. Avery had taken one look at Quantum Leap when he first arrived at the paddock and given him the thumbs-up on the physical. Quantum Leap—or Quanty as Stella called him—was pronounced fit and sound.

Thrilled to have her own pony again, Stella had spent the week training on Quantum Leap to compete him in the novice section. Her training sessions were going so well that, even though the pony was new, she really thought she had a chance of winning on him.

“Quanty’s a really lovely mover—perfect for dressage. Plus he’s supposed to be an A-grade showjumper,” Stella told Issie excitedly. “Best of all, he’s very, very chilled out. I’ve never met such a calm horse.”

“So you think he’s the one?” Issie asked.

“I hope so!” Stella said brightly. “I’ve got to make up my mind by the end of the dressage day to either buy him or give him back.”

“Do you think your mum will let you buy him?” Issie asked.

“It looks like it,” Stella said. “I can’t imagine wanting to give him back—he’s so lovely. After that awful mess with Misty, I just really want things to work out this time.”

It all looked good for Quantum Leap until Sunday, the day of the dressage competition. When Issie, Kate and Mrs Brown arrived at the pony-club paddocks early that morning they found Stella standing in the paddock, in floods of tears, holding on for grim life to Quanty’s lead rope, trying to control a very upset and strung-out pony.

“Thank goodness you’re here.” Mrs Tarrant raced over to them. “Stella’s been having terrible problems with
Quanty. He’s being really silly and she can’t get him to calm down. He’s in such a state!”

Far from being his usual chilled-out self, the bay pony was twitching around on the end of the lead rope as if he were a fire walker skipping over hot coals. Stella was trying to calm him down using a soothing voice and walking him around, but nothing seemed to help.

“I don’t understand it,” Stella sniffled. “He wasn’t like this when I got him at the start of the week. He was just lovely, really gentle and sweet. Then a few days ago he began to show signs of getting a bit overexcited and now look at him! He’s been going bonkers ever since I got here this morning. I have no idea what’s wrong with him.”

“Maybe he’s been having too much hard feed and it’s made him hot?” Kate suggested.

Stella shook her head. “He’s on his usual diet. He’s had hardly any feed.”

The girls were baffled. Quantum Leap was still behaving like an utter nervous wreck, pawing the ground and refusing to stand calmly, when Avery and Aidan turned up a few minutes later in the horse truck.

“What’s up with the new pony?” Aidan asked as he jumped down from the truck cab. Stella went into an explanation of Quantum Leap’s strange change in
behaviour. Aidan listened and asked the same question as Kate about the hard feed. He seemed as mystified as everyone else by the pony’s sudden anxiety attack. Avery, however, seemed to know exactly what was going on. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he examined Quantum Leap, checking the horse’s breathing and noting the sweat on the bay gelding’s coat.

“He’s all worked up over nothing,” Avery agreed. He looked at Mrs Tarrant. “How long have you had him on trial?”

“Nearly a week. We’re supposed to be buying him today otherwise he’ll go back to his owners.”

“And you say he’s only been acting strung-out in the last couple of days?” Avery asked, running his hands over a quivering Quanty. The pony was sweating profusely now and refused to keep still. Avery looked as if he was considering something. Then he turned to Stella and said, “Tell me, have you noticed his poo? Is it at all unusual?”

The others thought this was an odd and rather yucky question, but Stella seemed to perk up. “Yes! It’s been really runny—you know, like cow poo!”

This seemed to confirm Avery’s fears. “Stella,” he said, “I hate to be the one with bad news yet again, but I think
you have a problem here. This horse has a markedly different personality now than he did when he turned up at the pony club a week ago. And I’m pretty sure I know why.”

Avery looked awfully serious as he continued. “I think this pony has been drugged to keep him calm.”

“What?” Stella couldn’t believe it. “You’re kidding me.”

“I wish I was,” Avery said shaking his head. “It’s much more common than you think. People dope horses up all the time to make them seem calm so they can sell them. I’d say the symptoms you’ve just described to me suggest that this horse was given an injection of Reserpine. It’s a drug that makes nervous horses change personality and seem more relaxed. The thing is, this drug has side-effects—like the runny poo that you’ve noticed. Plus it only lasts about a week. Now that the drug is wearing off, Quantum Leap is starting to reveal his true nature.”

“Poor Quanty!” Stella said. She was about to step forward to give the pony a reassuring cuddle, just as she would have done with Coco, but Quantum Leap wasn’t having any of it. As Stella approached him he pulled back really hard on his lead rope, snapping the baling twine that had been holding him to the fence. He would have bolted if Aidan’s reflexes hadn’t been lightning fast. Aidan
was used to handling spooky ponies and his reactions were so quick, he’d leapt forward before anyone else could even think to move. He grabbed Quanty’s lead rope and in one smooth fluid movement he was at the bay pony’s side, talking softly to him.

“I’ll walk him for a bit and try to calm him down,” he told Mrs Tarrant and Stella, “while you decide what to do next.”

Avery suggested that they could call the vet in to do a test. “It might not be doping,” he pointed out, “but I’m pretty certain that I’m right—Quanty is exhibiting all the classic signs of a pony that’s been drugged.”

“I don’t think we need to call the vet,” Mrs Tarrant said firmly. Instead, she got on the phone immediately to Quantum Leap’s owners and accused them point-blank of doping the pony.

Of course they denied it at first, but Mrs Tarrant pushed the point and finally Quanty’s owners admitted that the pony was “inclined to tense up” and might have “occasionally” been given a shot to keep him calm.

Mrs Tarrant was appalled and let them have it for putting both the pony and her daughter at risk, telling them that they could pick up their horse straight away. Stella, meanwhile, was inconsolable. Quantum Leap
wasn’t her perfect pony after all. There was only an hour until the competition got under way and once more Stella was stuck without a horse. It was too late to enter Comet, and anyway there wasn’t the time to get him plaited.

“You can ride Marmite if you like,” Aidan kindly offered. “He’s been entered and he’s all ready to go. You’ll have no trouble with him.”

“Are you sure?” Stella said.

“Totally!” Aidan grinned at her. “I’ve still got Jasper to ride. Besides, I’m here to give the horses some experience before we sell them at the auction—and I can’t think of a better experience for Marmite than having a change of rider. It will be good for him.”

Stella gratefully accepted Aidan’s offer. But that only left her an hour before the competition to get on Marmite for the very first time and build a partnership with the brown pony. And Marmite happened to be the first horse scheduled to compete in the arena when the novice classes began that morning.

Aidan gave Stella some quick advice as they warmed Marmite up, but he was holding his breath along with everyone else when Stella rode into the ring and saluted the judge to begin her test. Everyone was amazed when,
despite having only been together for a very short time, Stella and Marmite put in a really polished performance.

“You’re a superstar!” Stella hugged the brown pony as they left the ring. A few moments later she positively whooped with delight when she saw their score get posted on the board. Marmite had got eights for his paces and the partnership had scored brilliant marks for most of the test, especially their transitions.

Jasper, the second Blackthorn Pony to compete that morning, put in a nice test as well. Aidan was very happy with the chestnut pony, although they had a few tense moments when they broke out of a canter in the wrong spot and lost points. When the final scores for the morning were posted on the board before lunch it was Marmite in the lead, with just a handful of novice-class competitors still to come—including Issie and Fortune.

Issie was the first to go in the arena after the lunch break and so she bolted down her food and made sure she had plenty of time to warm up before she was due to be called in to do her test.

Warming up properly was important with a horse like Fortune. Issie had to make sure the piebald was really listening to her leg aids. She worked him around in a circle and asked the piebald for lots of transitions, from
walk to trot to canter and back again, making sure he was paying attention. Then, five minutes before she was due to be called, she trotted him over to the arena to see if the judge was ready for her.

She could see the judge, a tiny woman called Marjory Allwell, sitting in the front seat of her car, as dressage judges often do, with the vehicle parked to face the dressage ring so that she could watch the test from the driver’s seat.

As Issie trotted Fortune around the outside of the arena Marjory Allwell gave a honk on her car horn—the official signal that she was ready for the next rider to enter the ring.

Issie felt a sudden surge of nerves. Once she entered the arena, every step that they took would be judged and given points towards their total score. Fortune couldn’t afford to put a foot wrong.

As they entered the arena Issie could feel Fortune tense up a little, as if he knew everyone’s eyes were on him. Issie worried for a moment that the piebald pony might lose his cool. He had never competed before and often ponies found the pressure the first time was too much for them. Fortune, however, seemed to love it and was relishing the opportunity to show off.

The piebald started the test brilliantly, halting perfectly with his feet square beneath him as Issie saluted the judge. Marjory Allwell saluted back and they moved off at a trot, keeping a steady rhythm. In the next corner, Issie asked Fortune to canter and the piebald executed the move right on cue. The pony was settling into his routine nicely and Issie felt her nerves disappear as the adrenalin rush of competing took over.

She was just about to do a twenty-metre circle at M when, for no reason at all, Fortune suddenly spooked! He propped on his front feet and came to a dead stop, flinging Issie forward so that she landed hard on his neck and had to struggle her way back into the saddle.