Charlotte and the Starlet (10 page)

'Hilary here.'

Oh. Now Leila saw the problem. Hilary didn't
actually know Leila could talk, even though they'd
hung out together heaps.

'Hel-lo?' Hilary was sounding impatient.

'Hi, Hils, you don't know me but I'm a friend of
Leila.'

There was a pause. 'Who?'

'You know, Leila, that gorgeous horse you had up at
your pool party last month.'

'Listen, honey, any friend of that freeloader is no
friend of mine. At my last party she broke into the
kitchen, scoffed every last canapé and barfed on my
floor. When I went to get a mop to clean it up, or
actually, to find the maid to tell her to clean it up, Leila
jumped out at me in a
Scream
mask ...'

Leila smiled, remembering her little joke.

'... so-o-o uncool.'

Leila felt a little shudder go through her. Hilary, her
best pal, was calling her uncool?

Hilary continued, 'And as for her dancing, my maid
was scrubbing horseshoe marks off my wall for a
month. Goodbye.'

Clunk.

Leila was shattered, absolutely shattered. She'd
always thought she had a real friend in Hilary. Well,
no matter, she'd call ... but try as she might, she
couldn't think of anybody else to call.

Hatcher now stood in Strudworth's office reading
from his notes.

'Charlotte has no female authority figure. She loves
horses. What more simple way to create a belief
system than a talking horse? Then if she fails at the
academy, she can blame it all on the horse.'

Strudworth nodded thoughtfully.

'So it's the pressure?'

'Exactly.' Hatcher put his hand up to prop himself
against a glass case and then realised he was staring at
that creepy horse. He pulled his hand away and stood
up straight. 'She's not insane, she's just ... un-
stable
–
get it?'

Strudworth didn't find his pun amusing. Especially
not after he'd left greasy fingerprints all over the case
of her stuffed Zucchini.

Hatcher continued. 'Essentially, she's a young girl
looking for a lot of attention.'

'So for now?'

Hatcher was emphatic.

'Do nothing.' A little too emphatic – he felt the last
of the chocolate biscuits working its way up from his
stomach. He probably shouldn't have eaten the whole
packet. 'Put the ball in her court.'

In the stables, The Evil Three were cleaning their tack
within earshot of the depressed Leila. She had to find
some way of getting out of this disgusting prison.

'Well, at least that's one less competitor for the
JOES,' said Lucinda.

'That's something,' added Emma. 'I'm under so
much pressure. Daddy's organised to telecast the
parade of all riders and horses who make the JOES.'

Leila and Rebecca were thrilled. 'We'll be on TV?'

'Worldwide if you make it.'

Leila's ears suddenly pricked up.
A worldwide
telecast?
Tommy or Mr Gold would be bound to see it.
Or somebody else who knew her would. Oh yes, this
was her way home!!!

Then a cold, hard reality poked its nose in – to
make the telecast, she and the rube would have
to make the JOES.

In the stuffy boiler room, Charlotte lay on her back
and thought of home. How she wished she were there
beneath blue skies, not a TV or mobile phone in sight.
Just Stormy, Rusty and her dad. It was horrible here,
worse than she had feared. Not one friend. She didn't
belong here any more than that selfish Leila did. Just
her luck to get some egotistical, movie-star, talking
horse!!!

She reached across to her saddle and clutched the
small plush toy horse she had attached. Then she
went to sleep, dreaming of her mother's face.

The next morning Charlotte headed to the stables,
trying to put out of her head the previous day's
problems. Clearly Mr Hatcher thought she was loco
but, as she could do nothing to dissuade him of that,
there was no point worrying about it. In all likelihood
her name had already been scratched off the JOES list.
Part of her wanted to head straight back to Snake Hills
– but how could she face all those people who had
given up what little they had to send her here?
Besides, she owed it to herself and the memory of her
mum to do her best. As for that treacherous, conceited
horse, Leila, well, if she wasn't going to speak,
Charlotte could easily return the compliment.

Today, she was the first girl into the stables,
figuring she'd need extra time to saddle up Leila.
Prepared for battle, she walked down to the stall.
She was astonished to find Leila standing alert and
ready.

'What took you so long?' said Leila. 'I've been up
since five.'

'I'm not talking to you,' Charlotte hissed back.

'Hey, sorry about yesterday but what could I do?'

Charlotte was miffed. 'Better they think I'm a freak
than you?'

'Don't be like that. You'll see. I've turned over a new
leaf.'

And to Charlotte's surprise she found that Leila was
indeed compliant. In fact, she was quite perfect.

Leila was hating every second of this sucky
behaviour but years in the movie industry had taught
her that sometimes you just had to play the game.
Despite all her good intentions, she still flinched
when the saddle went on. It had some fluffy horse toy
hanging off it. What was this? A nursery or a stable?
Even though this uncool appendage offended her
sense of style, Leila held her tongue. She caught the
grey mare eyeing her suspiciously and threw a look
back at her that said, 'You'll be eating my dirt before
the day is out.'

Miss Strudworth was surprised to see Charlotte
Richards leading a well-behaved horse out of the
stables. Well, at least that was a start. Mind you, she
hadn't mounted yet. The girls fell into a straight line,
their horses beside them. Strudworth blew her whistle
and was gratified to see them all mount as one, even
Richards.

'Proceed to the arena,' commanded Strudworth.
'We'll be practising sprint and stop today.'

Charlotte was elated when Leila trotted smartly to
the arena. Strudworth began the exercise, blowing the
whistle first to start at a gallop and then once more to
signal a dead stop. Charlotte was surprised to find
Leila was actually very good. Other horses overshot
the mark but Leila stopped with precision.

The first couple of sprints Leila handled as easily as
a spoon in a cold sundae. As a little filly her mother
had forced her to take lots of classes. Not everything
had been lost in her Hollywood indulgence. By the
third sprint, however, she was starting to wheeze.
Her legs were like jello. Boy, was she out of shape.
Fortunately, the woman who looked like a horse
called a halt to the exercise. The kid whispered in her
ear, 'Well done, you're really good.' Like, she didn't
know that? Not that Leila had the energy to argue. She
was knackered and looking forward to a nice long
nap. That was something else she was really good at.
In fact she was starting to doze as she stood there with
the horsy woman droning about something in the
background.

'... and next, the hurdle.'

HURDLE!!!

Leila snapped wide awake. Jumps! She hissed out
the side of her mouth, 'No way. I can't do this.'

Charlotte said quietly, 'Trust me.'

The first thing you ever learned in Hollywood was
'trust nobody'.

Charlotte said, 'You'll feel me give the signal with
my knees. Just shut your eyes and imagine you're
Tinkerbell in
Peter Pan
.'

Leila's heart was pounding. 'Tinkerbell, right.' She
couldn't help but think of her father. They said he was
the bravest horse with the biggest leap. He pulled all
the hardest stunts. But in the end he jumped once too
often and it killed him.

Strudworth looked over and nodded the command.
'Richards.'

Charlotte started Leila towards the hurdle. It wasn't
high like a steeple. It was a pretty easy jump ... for a
trained horse. But how would somebody like Leila
manage?

Leila charged towards the hurdle – ten metres, five
metres – NO, she couldn't do this. She veered away.

Charlotte wheeled Leila back around. She was
aware of Strudworth seated on her horse nearby.
Charlotte could just imagine what she was thinking:
the Richards girl had started well today but now that
things were getting tough, she couldn't cut the
mustard. Charlotte wanted to prove her wrong but
Leila was scared and there was no point yelling at her.
She whispered, 'Listen, you have to trust me.'

Leila spoke up as best she could with the bridle in
her mouth. 'I ... on't ... trust ... y ... own ...
mother.'

Charlotte had dealt with scared horses before. 'This
isn't Hollywood. This is Neverland. And you're
Tinkerbell. Understand?'

Charlotte now had Leila facing the hurdle. Leila
could see the grey mare and the other horses sniggering
off to the side. They really didn't think she could do it.
In fact, she wasn't sure she could do it either, but hadn't
she felt the same way about that walk-on part in
Buffy
that had made her career? She was Leila. She could do
anything. She felt herself heading towards the hurdle.
She could do it, sure she could.

But then a big black shadow called doubt swooped
in – ten metres, five metres – with every stride the
hurdle got bigger and bigger and the shadow darker
and darker. She felt the kid's signal, closed her eyes.
'I'm Tink, I'm Tink ...'

To Charlotte, everything went into slow motion.
Leila's legs bent and pushed and then they left the
earth and sailed through the air. Charlotte loved this
moment, part-bird, part-horse, part-human. The
hurdle passed beneath and the ground came up to
meet them as they landed with a powerful thump.

Leila didn't believe she'd died but she couldn't be
one hundred per cent sure. She still had her eyes
closed. 'Can I open them now?'

She felt the kid pat her on the neck. 'Yes, you can
open them.'

She did. And looked back at the hurdle. It didn't
look so big any more. In fact it was puny. She felt the
urge to dance.

'Well done,' said Charlotte.

They were out of earshot of anybody else. 'Othin to
it. I made u look good.'

Charlotte smiled. 'You've changed your tune.'

Leila protested. 'I never scared. It's called acting.'

From the distance The Evil Three were watching
and they were not happy. Rebecca summed it up.
'She's actually not bad.'

Competition for a place in the JOES had just got
hotter.

Feathers had been trying desperately to find some
way of putting Mr Gold and Tommy onto the bad guy
who'd led Leila astray with the pizza. He couldn't just
start talking or then he'd become the subject of
scientific experiment himself and he would never
again see the open skies. No, he had to be clever about
this. He had to do something to make them notice the
suspicious guy and then get them to think it had all
been their intuition or something.

After a couple of days he had hit upon the solution.
First he had saved all his seed. That meant dieting like
crazy, which wasn't so hard as he was already so upset
he could barely eat. Seed came in little husks that were
dark on one side and light on the other. Often, just for
the fun of it, Feathers would make patterns out of this
light and dark.

Over the last two days, seed by seed, he'd taken that
creativity a step further. Using his tray as a frame, out
of the seed he had constructed a black and white
identikit of the crim he had seen stalking around the
night Leila went missing. Above it he had written
'Gilty'. He figured if he could get Tommy and Mr Gold
to notice his handiwork, the message and the image
might crawl into their subconscious. Then, the next
time they saw the crim hanging around, they might
pay more attention to him. Feathers just needed the
right opportunity to get them to see his artwork.

And now it was presenting itself. Tommy and Joel
Gold were in the trailer talking about Leila. Tommy
had just told Mr Gold that the latest Leila replacement,
the fifth they'd tried, was no good.

Joel Gold shook his head sadly. 'You're right.
There's only one Leila.'

They were standing right in front of the cage.
Feathers knew this was his best chance. Using all his
strength, he lifted his tray with his beak. Gradually
the sketch rose up so that now it was right between
their profiles. They were looking at each other but if
they turned, they would see it.

Gold said, 'If only we had a lead on the nag-nappers
we could give the police.'

Tommy shook his head. 'Somebody must have seen
something.'

Feathers reached up with his wing and brushed his
bell so it tinkled. He felt Joel Gold turning towards
him. YES!!!

Joel Gold turned to face the cage but right then
something tickled his nose. Probably seed – he was
allergic to it, always had been. He had no time to cover
his mouth as he let out an enormous sneeze, blowing
Feathers' artwork to the four corners of the trailer.

'Bless you,' said Tommy, offering a tissue.

Neither of them noticed Feathers banging his head
into the bars in frustration – all his hard work had
been turned to dust.

The night of her hurdles effort Leila stood tall in her
stall, grinning across at the grey mare. 'So what did
you think of that, grandma?'

The mare muttered something inaudible and
turned her back. Typical, thought Leila. Just like in
tinsel-town. People couldn't handle her success. Well,
she'd be back there soon with a hot body and a whole
new bag of tricks. The rube was a pain in the fetlock
but Leila could handle her easy enough. Looking on
her as a kind of cheap personal trainer was probably
best. Things weren't turning out so bad after all.