Comet and the Champion’s Cup. Stacy Gregg
pink petals falling in a snowy carpet on the circular lawn in front of Blackthorn Manor.
The tumbledown mansion was just as she remembered. The enormous two-storeyed country manor must once have been very grand, but was, she noted with fresh eyes, definitely rickety and in desperate need of a new coat of white paint.
“It must have been horrible being here over the past couple of months. You know, with all those movies cancelling at the last minute.”
“Actually,” Aidan said, “this will sound weird, but it’s been great. I mean, yeah, it’s been stressful, especially for Hester. But having no film work has meant that I could spend more time riding. I’ve been doing loads of training sessions on Destiny.”
“Like movie training?” Issie asked.
Aidan shook his head. “Showjumping. Destiny’s a natural jumper. He picks his feet up really cleanly and never knocks the rails.”
“How high have you been jumping?”
“He can do about a metre twenty,” Aidan said. “Easily big enough to put him in the prize money.”
“What prize money?” Issie was confused.
“The Horse of the Year Show,” Aidan said. “I haven’t asked Hester yet, but I was thinking of entering him in the novice horse class.”
“Do you think he can win?”
Aidan nodded. “Yep–and it’s decent prize money too. The Horse of the Year is the richest competition in the whole Southern hemisphere. There’s half a million dollars in prize money. If Destiny and I win the novice class, that’s worth $10,000.”
“$10,000?”
“There’ll be loads of competition though,” Aidan continued. “There are riders from all over the country coming down for it.”
“I know,” Issie said. “Tom is coming down next week. He’s bringing Dan and Ben. I think Dan’s riding in the novice class too.”
Aidan seemed to go very quiet at this news. When he finally spoke his voice sounded quite different. “That guy Dan. You go to pony club with him, right?”
“Uh-huh,” said Issie.
“And he’s, like, a friend of yours?” Issie nodded. Aidan went quiet again for a moment.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
Issie was stunned. She hadn’t been expecting this. “No,” she said, “no, he’s not.” Aidan looked relieved.
“Hester is probably waiting for us down at the stables,” he said. “We’ll drive straight through to unload the horses.” He nosed the truck to the right of the circular lawn so that they swept right past the front door of the manor and headed down the limestone drive towards the stables.
“Issie?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You know what I said before? About me being glad that you were here? Well, I am, Issie. I’m really glad. It seems like ages since I saw you and…” Aidan stopped paying attention to the road and stared at Issie. He was fidgeting nervously with the sleeve of his tartan shirt. “The thing is, I’ve been wanting to ask you something the whole way down here…”
He was suddenly interrupted by Issie who let out a loud shriek. “Stop the truck, Aidan! You’re going to hit him!”
Aidan’s foot instinctively went for the brake as he turned to see what had made Issie shout out. In front of them, galloping straight for their truck, was a pony.
“Aidan!” Issie yelled again.
“I see him!” said Aidan, sounding the horn at the pony.
“What’s wrong with him?” Issie asked. “Why doesn’t he get out of the way?” The pony was still galloping towards them. There was no way the truck could stop in time. They would hit him for sure.
“You’ve got to stop!” Issie shouted.
“I’m trying!” said Aidan. “It’s not that simple–we have horses in the truck to think about!”
Issie realised that he was right. If Aidan slammed the brakes on too quickly then Toby and Coco would be thrown forward violently and might be badly hurt. But if Aidan didn’t brake fast enough then the poor pony that was bearing down on them would be killed.
It felt as if everything was in slow motion as the pony continued to gallop at them and tyres skidded against the limestone gravel as Aidan tried to stop. The horrible squeal of truck brakes filled Issie’s ears, overwhelming her in a rush of memory. She had a sickening sense of déjà vu–as if she was reliving that awful day at Chevalier Point. The day when Mystic had been killed. It was nearly two years ago now that the accident had happened. Her mind always got so confused when she tried to think about that day.
Issie remembered trying to stop the runaway horses from heading out on to the main road, her sense of horror as Mystic had reared up to face the truck. Then she was falling backwards and the tarmac was rushing up to meet her. There had been a sickening crack as her helmet hit the road, and the taste of blood in her mouth before it all went black. After that, she couldn’t recall anything until she woke up hours later in the hospital with her mother calling her name. Her mother told her what had happened. She explained how Mystic had saved Issie by throwing her clear of the truck. Issie still remembered the desperate expression on her mother’s face as she struggled to answer her question. “Mum? What about Mystic? Is Mystic OK?”
It was the very worst moment in Issie’s life. Her first pony Mystic had been her best friend. She had loved him so completely, so deeply. Losing him was like losing her own soul.
Now, suddenly, she was living through it all over again. Only this time she was watching it all from inside the truck, powerless to do anything as she sat waiting for the awful, inevitable moment of collision with the horse in front of her.
Issie shut her eyes and held her breath. She couldn’t bear to look. Instinctively she put her arms on the dashboard to brace herself for the impact. A few seconds later, when the crash didn’t come, she opened her eyes again.
The truck had stopped. The horse was nowhere to be seen and Issie suddenly realised that she was crying and shaking and Aidan was holding her tight in his arms. “It’s OK,” he was saying, “it’s all right. We didn’t hit him.”
“Aidan!” Issie felt like she couldn’t breathe. “We were going to hit him. I was sure we were going to…”
“Shhhh, it’s OK. I know. I thought we were going to hit him too. He got out of the way just in time. Are you OK?” Aidan let go of Issie and sat back in his seat.
“Uh-huh.” Issie dried her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“That was close, huh?”
“Where did that horse come from?” Issie wondered. “He seemed to come out of nowhere.”
“He must have jumped out of his paddock again.” Aidan shook his head. “That’s the third time this week. He might have escaped the truck, but I’m pretty sure that this time Hester is going to kill him!”
“You mean he’s done this before?”
“Yeah. Last time he jumped out, he managed to get into the garden shed and ate all of the dog biscuits. He is totally crazy, that pony. Hester is so fed up with him. She can’t afford to put up deer fences to keep him in–and, knowing Comet, he’d probably jump over them anyway!”
“Comet?” Issie said.
“Uh-huh,” Aidan replied. “He’s one of the Blackthorn Ponies that Hester decided to keep. Although I think she’s been regretting the decision ever since.”
Just as he said this, Issie saw her aunt emerge from the rear of Blackthorn Manor. She had a makeshift lead rope in her hands that