Star Dancer (5 page)

AS DANCER CANTERED TOWARDS THE JUMP
, Suzanne pretended she was riding in her first combined training event. They were approaching the first fence of the cross-country and … and … suddenly her heart began to race. A picture flashed through her mind. Dancer was jumping but something had gone wrong and she had lost her balance, she was falling … she was falling … Pain! Terrible pain!

They were only one stride from the jump when Suzanne lost her nerve and pulled back with all her strength on the reins. Dancer felt an agonising jab in his mouth. He slid to a stop with his chest almost touching the fence in front of him.

Suzanne wanted to cry. ‘Oh Dancer, I’m sorry! What if I’ve just taught you to stop at fences instead of jumping them? What if I’ve ruined you for eventing?’ She felt awful.

She knew what Anne would make her do if she were there. She would make Suzanne ride Dancer in a circle and come at the fence again, and take it this time, no matter what.

But Suzanne couldn’t make herself do it. She tried, but then her mouth went dry and her hands got cold and she could feel sweat pouring down her face below her safety helmet. She had to give up.

The day was ruined. She didn’t even bother practising dressage any more. Why should she? What good was dressage going to do them if they couldn’t jump? No jumping, no eventing.

That night Suzanne did not want to eat her dinner. She pushed
her plate away still piled with fish fingers and chips, her old favourites. ‘What’s the matter?’ her mother asked.

‘I’m all right. I’m just not hungry.’

Suzanne’s mother leaned forward to look at her. ‘Are you sick? Are you running a fever?’ She stood up and came around the table to put her hand on her daughter’s forehead. ‘Well, you don’t seem to have a temperature,’ she said with relief. ‘But it’s not like you to push your plate away, Suzanne. Is something wrong with the fish?’

‘It’s grand, really. I’m just … I …’ Suddenly Suzanne felt her throat closing and tears burning in her eyes. She bowed her head so her parents wouldn’t see, and got up from the table. ‘S’cuse me,’ she murmured. She fled from the room.

Suzanne’s parents looked at each other in surprise. ‘Now what’s the matter with her?’ Mr O’Gorman asked his wife.

‘Growing pains, maybe. Young girls are up one minute, down the next. I remember myself at her age.’

‘Could it have something to do with Dancer? She rode this afternoon, didn’t she?’

Suzanne’s mother nodded. ‘She did. Maybe she’s getting tired of the horse. I wouldn’t mind if she got interested in something else. Every time she goes out the door …’

‘Look, Phyllis, we’ve talked about this before,’ Mr O’Gorman told his wife. ‘Suzanne loves that horse. We’ve no right to ruin it for her just because …’

‘I know,’ his wife said with a sigh. ‘I know.’

She began clearing away Suzanne’s plate and glass of milk. ‘She might want these later. I’ll put them aside and take them to her in an hour or so.’

In her bedroom, Suzanne sat on the edge of her bed, holding a photo of Star Dancer in her hand. It had been taken the day her father told her the horse was really hers. In the picture she was sitting on Dancer with a big smile on her face.

Looking at it, Suzanne remembered Ger’s words. ‘You look like you’re glued on,’ he’d told her.

I can ride, Suzanne thought to herself. I really can. So why am I afraid? Why is it ruining everything?

Tomorrow I’ll try again. I really will. I’ll jump a fence with Dancer and I’ll be all right. I’ll be grand. She said the words over and over to herself, as if that would make them come true.

The next day was Saturday. When Suzanne got to the stables she saw to her surprise that Ger Casey was there! He was busily sweeping the stableyard. He looked up and grinned at her. ‘Hi, Suzanne O!’

‘Ger! What are you doing here?’

‘Brendan Walsh offered me a job, remember? This summer? Then I thought, what am I waiting for? I can work on weekends now, and here I am.’ He didn’t add that he had asked Brendan if he could work weekdays as well. But the head groom had told him sternly, ‘Of course not, son. School comes first.’

Ger wouldn’t have minded missing school. But Brendan seemed firm about it.

Suzanne was delighted to see him again. So, Ger said, was Dancer. ‘I went to his box first, Suzanne O, and I’ll swear he knew me. He bumped me with his nose, y’know.’

‘Of course he knew you. Horses have really good memories. And I think it’s great you’re going to be working here on the weekends. Will someone drive you out and collect you?’

‘Well,’ Ger began boastfully. ‘My brother Donal has a new BMW and he … I mean …’ Beyond Suzanne, Ger could see Star Dancer in his box, watching the two of them with his ears pricked. ‘I took the bus this morning,’ Ger said in a different tone of voice. ‘Two buses – I had to change.’

Suzanne had never taken a bus all the way across the city by herself. She looked impressed.

Ger went back to his stable work and Suzanne groomed Dancer and saddled him. But when she led him out of his box, Ger appeared out of nowhere to hold the horse still while she got on. He stroked Dancer’s neck and rubbed the base of his ears. Dancer stood with his head low, eyes half-closed in pleasure, and did not seem to notice Suzanne, even when she sat down in the saddle.

‘We’re friends, me and Dancer,’ Ger said happily.

Suzanne felt a sudden twinge of jealousy. Dancer was
her
friend.

She rode over to the meadow with the jumps again. Halting Dancer some distance away from them, she sat and looked at them for a long time. She tried to remember when she had jumped Cauliflower over fences every bit as big and hadn’t been afraid.

But Caulie was a fat little pony. Dancer was a horse. If she fell off, she’d have a lot further to fall.

Is that why I’m scared? Suzanne wondered.

She didn’t think so. It didn’t feel like the reason. Something else frightened her when she looked at the jumps, something cold and hard that sat like a rock in her tummy.

‘We should jump those today, Dancer,’ she told her horse. ‘So that you forget all about yesterday when I made you stop.’

But Dancer heard the fear in her voice. He knew she was not
going to ride him towards the jumps. He stood quietly, waiting, until at last Suzanne sighed and turned him towards the dressage area instead.

Soon they were concentrating on straight lines and perfectly round circles, on extending and collecting, on shoulder-in and rein back and counter canter, and Suzanne forgot – almost – about the jumps waiting in the distance.

Suzanne had almost finished her ride when she noticed Ger coming towards her across the daisy-starred grass of the meadow. ‘I’m on me lunch,’ he called out. ‘Can I come an’ watch you?’

Suzanne was pleased. Just for Ger, she gave Dancer the command for canter and then rode him in two pirouettes, small circles like waltz turns. It was something Dancer did really well, and she knew what a beautiful picture he made by the way Ger’s eyes were shining. She halted in front of the boy.

‘How long did it take you to teach him that?’ Ger asked.

Suzanne laughed. ‘I didn’t teach him. He was already schooled when I got him. He’s teaching me.’

‘The horse is teaching you? Go ‘way out of that!’ Ger said in disbelief.

‘Honestly, he is. That’s the best way to learn dressage, by riding a schooled horse so you know how it’s supposed to feel.’

Ger said eagerly, ‘Then Star Dancer could teach me to do all that fancy stuff too, couldn’t he?’

Suzanne felt the twinge of jealousy again. ‘I don’t know,’ she said coolly. ‘You’d have to be able to ride really well first, you don’t just start with dressage.’

‘I can ride really well. I can … my uncle …’ Ger paused. Star Dancer was looking at him. ‘How long would it take me to learn
to ride good enough to start doing the fancy stuff?’

‘Have you ever ridden at all?’

‘Of course I … well … no.’ At first the words were hard to say, but as Ger went on it got easier. He didn’t have to think about every word and try to remember what he’d told her before. The truth was simple. ‘The day you let me sit on Dancer was the only time I’ve ever been on a horse,’ he told Suzanne.

She realised then that the boy had fought a battle with himself, and won. She had to smile. ‘Let’s ask Mr Walsh if you can learn to ride on one of the ponies as part of your pay,’ she suggested.

‘And then I can ride Dancer?’

Suzanne fought a swift, silent battle with herself. ‘Yes,’ she said finally. ‘Then you can ride Dancer.’

When the children returned to the stables, they found Brendan Walsh in the tackroom. The tackroom was already one of Ger’s favourite places. The saddles hung on their racks in neat rows, with each horse’s name on its own saddle rack, and its own bridle hanging beside. All the reins were neatly looped, all the throatlash straps fastened in a figure of eight.

Bits and stirrup irons gleamed like silver, and the air was fragrant with the clean smell of saddle soap. Everything was spotless and orderly and in place.

When Brendan Walsh heard Suzanne’s proposal, he pretended to hesitate. He liked to tease her, just a little. ‘Well, I don’t know,’ he drawled, pushing back the cap he always wore so he could scratch his balding head. ‘I don’t know now. Pony rides instead of pay?’

‘As
well
as pay, Mr Walsh,’ Suzanne said firmly. She knew when Brendan was teasing her.

He smiled. ‘I s’pose we could manage it, all right. At the end of your workday, mind,’ he said to Ger. ‘If you’ve got all your work done properly, then you can ride Hallmark, he’s one of the bigger ponies. Just about fit you. But you’ll have to teach him yourself, Suzanne, I can’t throw in free lessons with Anne too.’

‘I’ll teach him,’ Suzanne promised.

On that weekend in late spring, Ger Casey’s life was changed forever.

By the time he got on the bus to go home on Saturday night, his head was swimming from Suzanne’s instructions. Sitting on the bus seat he imagined he could still feel Hallmark under him, and he sat with a faraway expression on his face, moving his fingers as if they still held the reins.

The next day was Sunday, and the buses did not run as often, so Ger got to the stables late. Brendan looked angry. ‘You said you’d be here by nine o’clock,’ he pointed out.

‘Well, what difference does it make?’ Ger wanted to know.

‘Horses are a big responsibility, Ger. So’s a job. If you aren’t serious, you’ve no place here.’

Ger began to make a smart remark. Then he stopped himself. ‘I swear I won’t be late again,’ he said abruptly, reaching for the nearest pitchfork to begin the day’s work.

He had discovered this morning when he got up that it was hard to walk. After yesterday’s riding lesson, he could barely bring his knees together. The long bus ride across the city, and the walk up the road from the bus stop to the stables had helped, but he was still sore.

He didn’t mind, though. It felt good in a funny way. It told him he’d really done something. And as the morning passed and he
mucked out loose boxes and scrubbed water buckets, the soreness completely disappeared.

He saved the newest, cleanest water bucket for Star Dancer. In the tackroom, he happened to notice a tattered horse magazine. There was an article in it about eventing and another article about dressage itself. Ger looked at the pictures of eventing first and read the captions. Suzanne was right, it was a real test of a horse. Some events were three-day and others were just one-day, but they all had dressage and cross-country and showjumping, and there were some amazing photos of horses leaping into ponds or galloping up steep banks.

But it was the dressage article that held Ger’s interest. It had photographs of horses that looked like Star Dancer, and straight, proud riders who looked like kings and queens. Even in the still pictures there was a beauty that made Ger’s breath catch in his throat.

Still, Suzanne preferred eventing, she’d said. So how was she going to do that if she was scared to jump?

‘It must be hard to give up something you really want,’ Ger said to Dancer as he was mucking out the horse’s loose box. Suzanne hadn’t yet arrived. Sunday, thought Ger. She probably has dinner with her parents on Sunday, sitting at some big fancy table with a load of silver on it. Being a family.

‘I never had anything to give up,’ he remarked to Dancer. The horse heard the bitterness in the boy’s voice. He took a step closer to Ger, and blew softly through his nostrils.

‘You understand, don’t you?’ Ger asked.

Star Dancer looked at him. Suddenly it seemed very quiet in the stable, as if just the two of them were there. Dust motes drifted on
the air. Star Dancer pressed his head against Ger’s shoulder trustingly.

With a quick look around to make sure no one was watching, Ger put one arm around the horse’s neck. ‘I’m not going to give you up
ever
!’ he whispered fiercely.

GER MADE FAST PROGRESS
with his riding lessons. When the summer holidays arrived, Anne told Brendan, ‘That new stable boy should be riding horses, he’s ready to move on from ponies. Let’s try him on one of the retired hunters down in the paddock.’

Ger was delighted. Horses were not like ponies. They were taller and had longer, smoother strides. But there was no other horse like Star Dancer. No matter what animal he rode, in his heart Ger was always mounted on Dancer.

On the bus going to and from the stables, he would stare out the window and imagine himself as a great general, riding Dancer at the head of a mighty army. He would dream of making Dancer do all those fancy steps that avoided the swords and cannon balls of the enemy. He could almost feel the horse under him, dancing.

One morning he got to the stables to find Suzanne slumped on a bale of hay, looking miserable. In her hand was a folded sheet of green paper.

‘What’s wrong with you, Suzanne O? Are you sick?’

‘I wish I was. Then I’d have an excuse. Look at this. Anne just gave it to me to fill out. It’s an entry form for me and Dancer for the junior one-day event in August.’

‘So? I thought you wanted to ride in events. Do you just want to do three-days?’

‘It isn’t that. A one-day is much easier, it’s the best way to begin and Dancer can do the dressage part easily. But I’ll have to jump him over fences, Ger. I’ll have to jump! And I just can’t!’

‘’Course you can.’

Suzanne shook her head. ‘I can’t. I had that awful dream again last night. If I try to jump Star Dancer I’ll be hurt, I know it.’

‘But you used to jump fences on your pony,’ Ger reminded her.

‘That was before I started having the dream, though. Now just thinking about jumping makes me so scared I can hardly breathe. How can I tell Anne? Oh Ger, what am I going to do? I wish I was brave like you. You aren’t scared of anything.’

‘Ah stop it,’ Ger mumbled, embarrassed. ‘Well …’ He dug his fists into the pockets of his jeans and scuffed the ground with his toe. Then his hand touched something in the bottom of his pocket. And suddenly he had an idea.

He dug out the little red stone he had taken from Dancer’s hoof at the RDS. He had been carrying it ever since. Now he showed it to Suzanne.

‘D’you see this?’

‘That old lump of stone? What about it?’

‘It’s not any old stone,’ Ger said. ‘It’s a … a magic stone. Real magic.’

Suzanne looked from the stone to Ger’s face. ‘Come off it!’

‘No, really, I swear! This stone is magic, it’s the reason I’m not scared of anything,’ the boy went on, making it up as he went along. To make the story more convincing, he dropped his voice to a whisper and glanced around the stableyard, as if afraid someone might overhear them. ‘Let’s go in Dancer’s loose box,’ he suggested. ‘It’s a big secret. I’ve never told anyone before.’

Curious, Suzanne followed him into the horse’s box. Star Dancer moved to one side to make room for them. He liked having the children beside him. He quietly lipped the bottom of his feed
tub, looking for a last few crumbs of breakfast.

‘What’s the secret, Ger?’ Suzanne demanded to know.

‘This stone, like I said, it’s really valuable because it’s magic. My old fella, my da, carried it with him all through the war, all through the bullets and all, and he was never hurt. Not once, not the littlest bit. The stone protected him, see. That’s its magic. It keeps the person who carries it safe.’

‘So how come you have it now?’

‘My da gave it to me, you see, to keep me safe when he, ah, went away. On a secret mission!’ Ger added boastfully. ‘But it works, Suzanne O. Ever since he gave me the stone I’ve never been hurt, not even a scratch. Even in fights, or when I fell out of a tree.’

Suzanne’s eyes were very large. ‘Is that true?’

‘I swear to God,’ Ger said.

‘What war was your dad in? There hasn’t been a war.’

‘Ah, you know. The war over … there.’ Ger waved his hand in the air. There was always a war someplace, wasn’t there?

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah. Well. Like I was saying, I’m brave because I carry this stone, see? It’s easy to be brave when you know nothing can hurt you. That’s why I’ll lend you it to carry when you jump, Suzanne O. Then you can be just as brave as me.’

Part of Suzanne wanted to laugh at Ger and tell him there was no such thing as a magic stone, that she was too old to believe in such nonsense. But a larger part of her did want to believe. Wanted very much to believe.

She stared at the little red stone Ger was holding in his outstretched palm. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked doubtfully.

Ger said, ‘Ask Dancer if you don’t believe me.’

He didn’t know why he said it. But just at that moment a strange thing happened. Dancer reached out and touched the red stone with his muzzle, as if he understood.

Ger felt a prickle run up his back. ‘Did y’see that, Suzanne! Dancer knows it’s magic! Go on, put it in your pocket now, before you ride.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘’Course I am.’

‘I mean … Anne wants me to start practising jumping this afternoon. She said to meet her down in the meadow, and … and …’

‘You’ll be grand,’ Ger said as strongly as he knew how. ‘Grand. Listen here to me, I’ll sneak off for a little while and watch, okay? Just for a while, so as you’ll know I’m there. Would that make you feel better? Not that you’ll need it,’ he added quickly. ‘Not when you have the magic stone to keep you safe.’

He put the little red stone in her hand and closed her fingers around it.

‘Nothing can hurt you now,’ Ger told her. ‘Nothing.’

When the time came, Ger watched Suzanne out of the corner of his eye as she got Dancer ready for their lesson. He saw how pale Suzanne’s face was when she tightened the strap on her safety helmet. He called out to her, ‘You have the magic stone, you’ll be fine.’

She managed a small smile.

When Suzanne was mounted on Dancer, Ger followed them out to the jumping field. Anne Fitzpatrick was already there, schooling a boy on a piebald mare. When she saw Suzanne and Dancer she
called out, ‘You start warming him up with some trot work, Suzanne. I’ll be ready for you next.’

Suzanne cast a quick glance at Ger. ‘Magic,’ he hissed, grinning at her.

‘Magic,’ she repeated, nodding. She took one hand off the reins and patted at the pocket of her jeans. She could feel the stone there, safe. Keeping her safe.

Suzanne smiled again. Star Dancer could feel that smile. He felt it in her touch on the reins and the pressure of her legs against his sides. Everything is all right today, the feeling told him. There is nothing to worry about today.

He pricked up his ears and moved forward happily. When Anne called to them, he obeyed Suzanne and trotted towards the first low jump without hesitation.

‘Now, Suzanne,’ Anne called, ‘just trot over this and let’s see how the two of you do together.’

It was just a little fence, no more than a couple of sleeper rails, one atop the other. But it was a jump, and as soon as Suzanne started towards it she could feel her heart start to pound and the dream came flooding back.

But Dancer just trotted calmly forward.

It’s the magic, Suzanne thought. Oh, please …

‘That’s it,’ Anne called. ‘Stay in the trot, now. One, two, three …’

Dancer hopped effortlessly over the fence and calmly trotted on.

We did it! Suzanne thought. We jumped and I didn’t fall off! She almost turned around to look back, but Anne called, ‘Eyes forward, Suzanne. Watch for the next fence. Stay in the trot, keep him quiet. One, two, three …’

Star Dancer took the second jump as easily as the first. He made no effort to stop. He seemed to have forgotten that Suzanne had once stopped him to keep him from jumping.

As they turned towards the third low fence, he tugged at the bit a little. He was eager to go faster. This was fun.

‘Let him canter on,’ Anne called.

Suzanne did not realise she had caught her lower lip between her teeth.

She pressed one leg just behind the girth to give Dancer the signal to canter. Her eyes measured the distance to the waiting fence. She leaned forward a little to adjust to her horse’s increased speed. Gripping the saddle with her knees, she balanced her weight in the stirrups and rose with Dancer when he rose to meet the fence.

Ger was standing beneath a tree at the edge of the meadow, watching. Although Suzanne could not see it, he had his fingers crossed. He held his breath when Dancer began to canter towards the third fence. When the horse had jumped from a trot, he just sort of bobbed over. But jumping from a canter, which was really a slow gallop, Dancer seemed to lift into the air and fly.

Ger tensed, suddenly afraid. If Suzanne fell off and got hurt it would be his fault. ‘I’ll never tell a lie again, Suzanne,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll never ever … oh you dancer!’ he cried with delight. They had landed safely on the other side of the jump and Suzanne had a big grin on her face.

Still grinning, Suzanne cantered back to where Anne was standing. The instructor did not know what a triumph the moment was for Suzanne. Putting one hand on the girl’s knee, she looked up and frowned. ‘You’ve been chewing your lip again, haven’t
you? I warned you about that, and now look. There’s blood on your chin. You must have bitten your lip while you were jumping. Bend down here.’

Anne took a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at Suzanne’s face. The girl said in surprise, ‘But I didn’t feel anything. It doesn’t hurt at all!’

Anne made Suzanne and Dancer jump some more fences, all low, easy ones. With each jump, Suzanne felt more sure of herself. When the lesson was over she was almost sorry.

Anne told her, ‘I think tomorrow I’ll set up some cavaletti and have you trot through them to improve your balance and your rhythm. We have a lot of work to do before August, but I think you will be ready for the one-day event. At least we know Dancer’s able for the dressage.’

Back at the stable after she had cooled Dancer off and settled him down, Suzanne found Ger working in the tackroom. ‘Ger, did you see? Did you see us jumping?’

Ger busily polished a pair of stirrup irons hanging on a metal hook. ‘Dead right I did, Suzanne. Didn’t I tell you you could do it? I wasn’t worried, not when you had the magic stone.’

Suzanne took the little red stone from her pocket and handed it back to him. ‘Here. And thank you.’

‘You keep it,’ Ger said. ‘Keep it for when you jump.’

‘But some day you’ll want to jump, too, and …’

‘I’m not scared of jumping,’ Ger told her. ‘I can do it without the stone.’

‘But you’ll want this back, it was your dad’s and …’

Suzanne paused, giving Ger a long look. ‘If he’s away on a secret mission, isn’t that dangerous? I mean, why didn’t he keep it
and take it with him? And what sort of secret mission is he …’

Ger said very quickly, ‘Top secret, can’t talk about it. No one’s supposed to know ‘cept him and … and the army. If anyone finds out I told you I’m in trouble.’

‘But the stone …’

‘Yeah, well …’ Ger thought as fast as he could. ‘My old fella … likes to take care of me, see. That’s all. He worries about me all the time. No need to, he just does. Like your parents, I s’pose. He wanted me to be safe more than he wanted to protect himself.’

Suzanne accepted this. ‘I know what you mean. Parents are like that, aren’t they? My mum worries about me all the time too. She never says, but I can see it in her face. Should I tell her about the magic stone so she won’t worry any more?’

Ger frowned. ‘Nah. Lets keep it our secret. Grown-ups don’t always understand about magic. I mean, my da does, of course, but he’s different.’

On the bus going home that night, Ger rolled the little red stone in his palm. He’d agreed to mind it for Suzanne. Just in case his da came home and was looking for it. But Suzanne could use the magic stone whenever she jumped. Maybe it really was magic. Maybe Star Dancer had done something to it when he touched it with his nose, and turned the lie into truth.

Maybe it was Star Dancer who was magic.

But when Ger got home he forgot about the stone. As he got off the bus he saw Rags and Danny sitting on the pavement as if they were waiting for him. They stood up and came towards him.

‘Where’ve you been all day?’ Rags demanded to know.

Ger shrugged. ‘Places. I got places to go.’

Danny said, ‘Anto thinks you’re avoiding us.’

‘I’m not! I’m just busy.’

‘Busy being a spy, like you said?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Would you get outta that! Anto says you’re no spy. He asked his old fella and his old fella said no one’d let a kid be a spy. He said we don’t even have any spies in this country. Not like the CIA and stuff.’

‘Anto’s old fella knows nothing ‘bout anything,’ Ger said angrily.

Rags retorted, ‘Well at least he has an old fella!’

That hurt. Ger felt the pain in the pit of his stomach. His friends could be cruel. Sometimes they enjoyed being cruel. He had been just like them, until Star Dancer. Now something inside him was different. He didn’t know what, but it was.

Ger began to walk swiftly towards the flat where he lived. The other two kept pace with him, taunting him. ‘We’re going to follow you,’ Danny said. ‘We’re going to follow you and find out where you go, Anto says. And then …’

Ger whirled round to face them. ‘And then what? It’s none of your bleedin’ business.’ He gave Danny a quick shove and brushed past him, running up the steps.

When he had slammed the door in their faces, Ger stood for a moment with his back against it, breathing hard. He knew Anto. If he’d made the threat he would carry it out. He’d find out where Ger went and appear some day at the stables looking for a way to cause trouble.

The door felt solid against Ger’s back, but it wasn’t solid enough.