Riding on Air (25 page)

On our better side now, going to the right, Jinx settling into a beautiful springy working trot and a nice half 10-metre circle to set up for the leg-yield, yes, great, and so a much better lengthened trot that way too. Now for one of the tricky bits with Jinx—the walk transitions.

OK, not too bad there. A bit of excess enthusiasm from Jinx as he anticipated going back into trot and the transition was too early, but that was done. Now the canter work and hope my hands would cope. Hope I could hold him.

It was weird, like riding with my ears stuffed full of cotton wool so I couldn't hear anything except the flutter of air through Jinx's nostrils and, when I lost the connection a little bit in the first canter so he got too heavy on the forehand, the sound of his hooves hitting the ground. Each movement was judged out of 10 and we'd lose marks for that, but it didn't matter. Another hard lesson learned along the way of years of competing. You could try to be perfect but dressage judges tended not to believe in that; the best I'd ever had was an eight and that was for about the best working trot circle we'd ever done and probably were ever likely to do.

Jinx was going really well. Even my vision had shrunk down to this tiny bubble of awareness that was limited to the arena and my horse. I always had an ability to concentrate well at competitions but this was something new. This was amazing. I could see and feel everything so clearly. It was like I knew what Jinx was going to do almost before he did it and I could adjust for any little errors. And he was obviously getting the same vibe from me. He was moving through each movement so sweetly, back giving, neck arched, jaw soft on the bit, the reins almost springy, like elastic in my hands.

Sweat rolled down my face and soaked the back of my shirt beneath the hot wool of my coat. I could practically feel my knuckles ballooning within the tight leather of my gloves. But I ignored the increasing burn in my joints, like I ignored the stinging distraction of the sweat, and I just rode. We did a 15-metre circle in canter, some lengthened strides, oops got a bit fast and flat there but he came back to me easily enough. Then into trot to change canter leads and I was a bit late with my aids for the transition, so a couple of really horrible disunited strides, but a little check with my hands—ouch—and Jinx corrected, smoothing out into his lovely energetic canter.

Cantering the other way, another 15-metre circle, oops again, that was a bit ugly, had to be more like 17 or 18 metres, but my hips and hands were really starting to hurt. Only a couple of movements left now, don't worry about what's behind us, just concentrate on keeping it together through this last little bit. I want to finish as well as we started, please Jinx, come on, to hell with glass hands, damn it, that's right, breathe, half-halt, eyes up, here comes B, start your turn now.

Sitting trot up the centre line for the last time, straight at the judge. A split second choice to make: nothing left in my hands, so be conservative and know I can halt precisely on G or go for a big spanking trot and risk overshooting?

Stuff it.

I rode Jinx energetically forward, sitting tall and relaxed in the saddle, allowing with my hip joints even though they were just about screaming at me with every springy stride Jinx took. I stared straight at that judge and it was no effort at all to find that little smile you were always supposed to find, to show the judge you were enjoying all this and you thought you'd done a good test, no matter what kind of mess you'd made of it.

I knew I hadn't made a mess of it, even if bits of it weren't great. Good in this case was great and by the time I half-halted before G I could feel my face stretching in a grin, rather than the polite smile that was more appropriate. And maybe that grin sent some kind of unconscious message to Jinx via my muscles, because when I asked him to halt he tucked his hindquarters under and planted his feet, his neck rising up out of his withers like an escalator as he halted as strong and square as you could hope from a perfect dressage horse.

I snapped off a salute to the judge and let go of any hold I had left on that grin—I beamed with delight and rubbed Jinx's neck ecstatically.

The judge hopped out of her car and gave me a nod. It was nice to see she was smiling back at me, but it didn't necessarily mean anything. I had no way of knowing what she'd said to the penciller who sat beside her recording all her scores and remarks. When I got my test sheet back at the end of the day, then I'd know. I'd get an idea of how good or bad it was likely to be a lot sooner than that, though. The scores for each test were put onto the massive white-boards set up by the canteen.

I steered Jinx out of the arena at a long rein walk, letting him stretch. I couldn't stop patting him, even if it did make my knuckles grumble. That was the absolute best test we'd ever done. I almost couldn't believe we'd really done it. The details were kind of cloudy, as though it had all been a dream, but I could feel Jinx under me, striding towards the exit, eager to get out of the arena and back to the float. My sweat soaked shirt was sticking to me. That wasn't the kind of detail you'd notice if you were dreaming, surely.

“That kicked arse!” Tash exclaimed once I was clear of the arena. She had broken clear of the pack that consisted of Eleni, still wearing her groom's apron and toting a bag of gear, Dad with a video recorder, Jennie in a big hat and a bigger grin, Mum with pride shining from her eyes and actually wearing jeans, and, my heart lifting again at the sight of him, William. I needed to say so much to all of them, different things for each of them, but right then the flood of emotion and fatigue and the weight of all those waiting expectations just choked me.

“Kicked arse thanks to you,” I said to Tash, my voice rasping. She grinned and shrugged it off, but that was one debt of thanks paid, at least.

Eleni came up and held a single-serve juice container up to me, straw already stuck through the hole.

“You are a goddess,” I said, taking it from her as Tash put a restraining hand on Jinx's reins. Jinx rewarded her by scrubbing his face along her shoulder and I knew he was as sweaty and wrung out as I was. I sucked down a couple of big gulps of the icy-cold, sweet juice and then handed it back to Eleni.

“I better go cool him out a bit,” I said, kind of to everyone.

“We'll see you back at the float,” Dad said. I nodded and with a lingering glance at William, gathered up my reins and rode away.

I'd have a few minutes to get myself together at least while I walked Jinx around a bit. I switched the reins to one hand again and experimentally fiddled with the top button of my riding jacket, wishing I'd thought to give it to Eleni, but taking off a coat while sitting on a horse was just as stupid as the other way round. Which is not to say I hadn't done it in the past. Once my hands got really bad I'd become a bit more careful, that was all.

The button defeated me, either because my hands were feeling the heat and the strain of riding the test or the gloves just made me extra clumsy. I was going to have to stay hot until I got back to the float. I kicked my feet free of the stirrups and rotated my ankles gently against the cramped ache in them. I wondered what the judge had thought of our test. I hoped I'd scored well, but it always depended on what scores everyone else was posting.

“Darling Jinx, what a star,” I murmured, rubbing my hand along his neck. Jinx walked on, his mind now fixated on getting back to the float, probably looking forward to a big drink and a guzzle at his hay net. He could have a little bit of water, but no hay yet. My tests today were inconveniently scheduled—just too far apart to stay out there and ride the next one, not quite far enough spaced to have a proper rest in between.

I rolled my wrist and peered at my watch, then nudged Jinx onto a more direct line for our float. I wanted him to have time to have that drink before we went out again.

If
we went again. I was considering scratching from my second test. Seriously, how likely was it we could repeat such a great ride? And, as I too cooled down from all the excitement, I was more aware of the burn in my hands. I wasn't sure they had another test in them.

Tash was mysteriously absent when I got back to the float, but I had plenty of other helpers. Too many really. They got in each other's way as they fussed over Jinx, swapping his bridle for a halter and taking his saddle off to give him a quick sponge and a chance to cool down before he was tacked up again for our next test.

I stood and watched, feeling as fussed over and pampered as Jinx, although he didn't seem to have any mixed feelings about it like I did. Jinx always felt he was the hero of his own story, I guess, and it made me grin to see him lapping up all the attention, chomping on the handfuls of hay Mum had stolen from his stashed hay net for him, condescending to take a drink from the bucket William held.

It was obvious to me, watching them tend Jinx, that Mum liked William. The approving little glances she kept shooting my way kind of reinforced that impression. She'd been on at me for so long to get a boyfriend and go out and do stuff away from horses that she'd probably have been pleased if I'd brought home an axe-murderer. OK, so maybe not. But subtle, she wasn't.

I wanted to be in there among them as they looked after Jinx, wanted it so badly it was like a punch in the stomach. I flexed my fingers and winced at the ache that shot through my bones. My hips felt like all the cartilage had been sucked out of them by some evil magic spell. And my wrists and thumbs and forefingers hurt with such a deep hot ache that I knew it was going to take one of the Clydesdale-strength pills to get rid of the pain. If Dad would let me have one.

I looked at Jinx, his glossy coat marked with darker patches where he'd sweated and been sponged down. I knew he'd given me 100 per cent in that test. I knew I'd given everything I had, too. I had done everything I could and, when I thought about it, everything I had set out to do. I was done.

I dropped my empty drink container in the rubbish bin Eleni had set out by the door of the float that morning and went over to where she was wiping Jinx's nose free of hay dust.

“Can you put his hay net up please, Leni? And you can start undoing his mane.”

“What? You've still got another test.”

“I'm going to withdraw.”

“You might change your mind about that in a minute.” Tash's voice came from behind me. “Your score's already up.”

I turned and looked at her, aware that everyone had done the same. Except Jinx, of course, who didn't understand and probably wouldn't have cared if he did.

“You got 76 per cent,” Tash said, her eyes gleaming.

“Holy crap,” I breathed and for once neither Jennie nor Mum pounced on me for swearing. I wouldn't have cared if they did. Getting a score of 76 per cent meant I'd averaged scores of sevens and eights. That was
incredible
.

“Are you sure?” I asked anxiously. “I will seriously kill you if you've stuffed it up.”

“Melissa,” Mum said reproachfully, but she sounded like it was something she felt she ought to say. She didn't seem genuinely cranky about it. Mum knew enough about dressage to understand just what a great score that was. Dressage riders usually got excited to score in the 60s.

“And,” Tash said, leaving it hanging it dramatically.

“Tash,” Mum said, with just as little tolerance for suspense as me. Tash just grinned, undaunted. “You're in first place.”

I opened my mouth but no words came out. I was stunned. Part of my brain was reminding me that there were still riders left to go. But the Novice field wasn't that big. Even if all the scores still to come in were pretty good, I had a great chance of actually placing. And, you know, the smallest voice piped up inside, 76 per cent is a massive score. Gonna take some beating.

Eleni rubbed Jinx's nose and looked at me.

“Are you sure you want me to give him his hay? You'd only need to do another solid test and you'd have a real shot at being Novice Champion.”

Dad looked at Mum, then at me. “Why not have a go, darling?” he said. “I admit you were right about being able to manage Jinx. You rode him beautifully. Wait until you see the video.”

“I had a lot of help, Dad,” I said. “I couldn't have done it without Tash and Eleni.”

I looked at Jinx and daydreamed for a long, intensely pleasurable moment of a champion sash tied around his neck. Then I realised why I really wanted that ribbon. It wasn't for Jinx; he didn't care about such things. It wasn't even really for me; I already knew in my heart that my horse was a champion.

I wanted that ribbon for the same reason I wanted to qualify Jinx for the squad. I wanted to prove to everyone that I could do it. That I was capable and successful and good at something despite my bumpy knuckles and sausage fingers. Despite all the things that other people had to do for me, like carry stuff and open doors and modify my girth and even ride my horse, I wanted to prove that I could do something great
myself
. And I had. But it had almost cost me more than I ever realised.

I'd been trying so hard to prove I didn't have a disability that I had almost crippled everything else in my life that was important. Like my relationship with my mother. And with my friends; the two best friends a girl could ever have. I'd almost driven William away when really
he
was the one thing I wanted more than anything else in the world.

And it was all so stupid because none of it mattered in the way that counted most. Nothing that I did was ever going to undo that fact I have JRA. By trying to deny that, I had been making it worse for myself and everyone I loved. Even—especially—my darling Jinx.

“Jinx is already a champion,” I said eventually, “and he's done everything I could ask today. Give him his hay.”

“That's a brave decision,” Mum said as she slid her arm carefully around my shoulders. Instead of meeting her stiffness with a resistance of my own, like I usually did, I leaned into her. I can't begin to describe the expression that flitted across her face, but it made me want to laugh and cry, hug her and apologise, all at the same time. I didn't do any of that, of course—the very idea almost paralysed me—so instead I sought refuge in the ordinary and thrust my chin out at her.