Showjumpers (12 page)

Belle gave a panicked squeal and skidded to the side and Georgie braced herself to keep from flying out of the saddle as she was flung sideways.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she screamed, but Kennedy ignored her. Georgie straightened Belle back up again and pushed the mare on. They were just a few strides out from the first jump when once again she was side by side with Kennedy.

It was like a game of chicken. Neither girl would pull off target and admit defeat. They were just two strides out from the fence when Georgie came to her senses. This was madness! It wasn’t safe to take the jump with Kennedy alongside her. And it wasn’t worth getting herself or her horse injured. She was about to pull Belle back and let Kennedy go in front when a heavy blow struck the mare hard on her shoulder. Kennedy had just ridden right into Belle on purpose!

The sudden impact made Belladonna slip and the wet ground had no purchase – the mare went into a skid. As Georgie felt Belle go over, she did the only thing she could do and flung herself clear of the saddle, trying to get out of Belle’s way so she wouldn’t be crushed beneath her.

The mud rushed up and Georgie went down hard, face-first. Belle had fallen right beside her and was over on her side, legs flailing as she tried to stand up.

“Easy, girl,” Georgie got quickly to her feet and grabbed the reins, trying to stay clear of Belle’s hooves as the mare thrashed about. After Belle stumbled to her feet, Georgie led the mare forward, looking for signs of lameness. Belle seemed to be OK and so she began to lead the mare back across the field towards the stables. There was no point in mounting up again – the other riders were long gone and Georgie and Belle’s confidence were shattered by the fall.

She could see Tara Kelly walking towards her with a grim expression on her face. “Is she all right?” Tara asked.

Georgie nodded. “Put her away and then meet me in the tack room,” Tara said stiffly, without looking Georgie in the eye.

Georgie sat down at the table in the tack room and waited. Tara had looked so furious out there on the field. But surely she’d seen the way Kennedy cut her off at the start of the race? She must know it wasn’t Georgie’s fault.

The tack room door flew open and Tara entered. Kennedy Kirkwood was with her.

“Sit down next to Georgie, please, Kennedy,” Tara said. She walked around and stood on the other side of the table, facing the two girls, her arms crossed at her chest. “The display I have just witnessed out there has no place on the cross-country course. I don’t know what you two were thinking, barging into each other like that and frankly I don’t want to hear it. That sort of behaviour is inexcusable. This is cross-country – not dodgems!”

“Kennedy cut me off!” Georgie began to protest.

“No, I didn’t!” Kennedy shot back. “She started it!”

Tara held up a hand. “And I’m going to finish it.” She looked at the two girls. “You are both on fatigues – I want you mucking out the stables for a week.”

“But Miss Kelly!” Kennedy began. But Tara silenced her.

“You should consider yourself lucky that is your only punishment, Miss Kirkwood.”

The girls both stood up to go, but Tara wasn’t finished. “Georgie, wait.”

Georgie turned around as Kennedy walked out and suddenly she knew what was coming.

“I’m sorry, but today was the last assessment class of the term. Georgie, I hate to say this, but I’m afraid your performance has left me no choice.”

“But it wasn’t my fault,” Georgie said as tears started to pour down her cheeks. “I didn’t get a chance to ride properly…”

Tara swallowed loudly then broke the news. “Today was your last cross-country class, Georgina. I’m sorry, but you’ve been eliminated. You’re out.”

G
eorgie knew that there must be worse things in the world than being kicked out of cross-country class. But right now she couldn’t think of one. She was devastated. She had come to Blainford with just one goal – to become a professional eventing rider, just like her mum. And now, thanks to Kennedy Kirkwood, that dream was over.

“You have to do something!” Alice was horrified when Georgie finally told her what had happened. “This is so unfair! It wasn’t your fault you fell off – Kennedy did it on purpose. You have to tell Tara she’s wrong!”

Georgie took a deep breath. “I tried, Alice, but Tara didn’t want to know. And I can’t prove it was Kennedy’s fault. Tara didn’t see her push me.”

“So,” Alice said, “what are you going to do?”

Georgie knew what Alice was driving at. When Georgie’s position in the eventing class had been in jeopardy before the mid-term break, she had been on the verge of quitting and leaving Blainford for good.

Now she’d actually been kicked out of Tara’s class: the one subject that really mattered to her. She thought of her dad and her best friend Lily and Lucinda and the Little Brampton Stables. If she left Blainford she would be going home, back to her old life and her old school.

“So are you going to… are you gonna go?” Alice asked.

“I thought about it,” Georgie admitted, “but it’s sort of crazy to throw it all away, isn’t it? Besides, we’ve got the House Showjumping coming up, and I couldn’t just leave Belle behind. I lost my horse when I gave up Tyro to come here. I don’t think I could stand to say goodbye to Belle too.”

Alice let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, good! I mean, I don’t think I could cope with having to break in a new room mate. I’ve kind of got used to you. You’re like one of my sisters, only less annoying, you know?”

“Yeah,” Georgie smiled. “I know. I feel that way too.”

Alice decided that a shopping trip to buy their Formal dresses would help cheer Georgie up. So on Tuesday straight after she had finished her fatigues duty, Alice, Georgie, Emily and Daisy caught the bus from Blainford to downtown Lexington. The journey took them all the way to the centre of town, and from there Alice led the way along Main Street until they reached a side alley signposted Pompadour Lane. There they found Selma’s tiny little shop crammed in between a café and a secondhand bookstore.

Inside, there was so much clothing, there was hardly room to move. The racks were jammed full and the air had a musty smell to it. The girl behind the counter gazed up from her book and muttered, “Let me know if you need help,” then went back to her novel again.

Alice headed straight for the rails and began to hunt vigorously through the dresses while Georgie milled about without much genuine conviction. She wasn’t even sure why she was here. She still didn’t even have a date for the Formal so why did she need a dress?

“I bet Damien wants to ask you,” Emily insisted, “except he’d get it in the neck from Conrad, wouldn’t he? Those polo boys totally hate us more than ever since we beat them in the House Showjumping.”

Georgie knew Damien didn’t really fancy her. He was only being friendly. But at least he smiled at Georgie and said hello, which was more than any of the other Burghley boys would do.

Conrad’s dislike of Georgie had now reached epic proportions. On the way back from dinner she would hear him trailing along behind her on the driveway with the other boys from Burghley House, making childish seagull squawks. Damien was the only one brave enough to ignore Conrad’s bullying. As for James, Georgie didn’t know what to think. She had caught him staring at her in the dining room the other day. But he was still dating Arden, wasn’t he?

“Hey, Georgie!” Alice held out a midnight-blue dress covered in delicate silver crystal starbursts. “This looks about your size. Try it on!”

The dress had a tight-fitting bodice, tiny shoestring straps and a twisted puffball skirt, and turned out to be a perfect fit. “Wow!” Emily said as Georgie walked out of the tiny fitting room. “You’ve got to buy it!”

“I don’t know.” Georgie looked at herself in the mirror.

“It’s brilliant on you,” Alice agreed.

Georgie wasn’t sure. Maybe her friends were just trying to cheer her up by telling her she looked nice, when really she didn’t.

“Daisy?” Georgie turned to the one member of their group who always spoke with brutal bluntness. “What do you think?”

Daisy looked the dress up and down. “It makes you look like you’ve got boobs and the colour matches your eyes,” she said. “You should buy it.”

The girl behind the counter informed Georgie that it was an original Betsey Johnson from 1984 and the price was twelve dollars. Georgie still had enough change left over to buy a pair of black ballerina flats and grab a burger before they caught the bus home again.

On the bus, the girls compared purchases. Alice had ferreted out a very pretty violet-coloured prom dress with a full fifties skirt with stiff tulle underneath. Emily, after much umming and ahhing, had settled on a chic one-shouldered black dress and Daisy had stunned everyone by appearing from the changing rooms looking like a supermodel in a vintage Donna Karan gold silk maxi dress.

“I still can’t believe we’re dateless,” Alice sighed as the bus rumbled back towards Blainford. “It’s like, incredible to me!”

“Ummm, Alice?” Emily looked nervous. “I hate to tell you, but…” She bit her lip. “I’m not dateless.”

“You? Who? When?” Alice was totally stunned.

Emily flushed pink. “Alex Chang finally asked me. He came around to the boarding house while you guys were at showjumping training. He even bought me flowers!”

“Right,” Alice said. “OK, well, good for you, Emily.

That’s great.”

She turned to Georgie. “This changes nothing. There’s still two of us. We can go together!”

Georgie decided that Alice was right. OK, so Riley had turned her down and didn’t want to come to the dance. Big deal! She and Alice would go together. They’d have a brilliant time. “Girl Power!” Georgie giggled.

“Girl Power,” Alice agreed.

Their newfound solidarity against the boys of the world lasted exactly ten minutes. That was how long it took them to arrive back at school where Matt Garrett bowled up to Alice on the driveway and asked if she would go to the dance with him.

“I said yes,” Alice reported with a beaming grin.

“What?” Georgie sputtered. “What happened to Girl Power?”

“Oh, yeah,” Alice looked sheepish. “Sorry about that, Georgie.”

“And what about Cam?” asked Georgie.

“Maybe if I go with Matt it will teach him not to take me for granted,” Alice said.

“So you’re using Matt as a pawn in your game?” Georgie said. “That’s not very nice, Alice.”

“Oh, come on!” Alice looked at her in disbelief. “Have you met Matt Garrett? He’s the most arrogant guy in the whole school. He’s so thick-skinned he won’t care why I’m going to the Formal with him – he just wants a date.”

“It’s official then,” Georgie groaned. “I am the only loser in the whole school.”

On Wednesday, Tara Kelly’s showjumpers arrived at the indoor arena for their final training session before the big event. The showjumping finals were to be a three-way competition between Luhmuhlen, Badminton and Adelaide.

“This time there’s no safety net,” Tara told them. “There are no discard scores. All six riders will be counted in the final tally, so we cannot afford a single mistake from any of you.” Tara looked at her clipboard. “I’m going with the same running order as last time. The competition gets underway at eleven thirty and I want you all tacked up and at the arena by eleven to give us enough time to warm up.”

As the riders headed into the arena to begin training, Tara took Georgie aside.

“Can we have a quick word, Georgie?” she asked.

Georgie followed her over to the side of the arena.

“I just wanted to tell you how very sorry I am about what happened in cross-country class,” Tara began. Georgie nodded. She knew what Tara was saying was true.

“Georgie,” Tara continued, “I want you to know that I still think you are one of the brightest talents to emerge amongst the students here at Blainford. And I don’t want you to give up, OK? See this as a challenge – not the end of your eventing career. I know that sounds odd, after what has happened, but sometimes these setbacks can be a blessing in disguise. You understand?”

“I. I think so,” Georgie said.

Tara smiled. “So are you and I OK? You’re still happy to be part of my showjumping team?” Georgie nodded again. “We’re good.” “Excellent,” Tara said. “You’re my anchor, Georgie. I’m

relying on you to come in at the very end and bring home a clear round. The team needs you.”

“You can count on me, Tara,” Georgie replied.

As Tara and Georgie entered the showjumping arena, Kendal was warming up around the showjumps.

“OK, Kendal,” Tara said. “Off you go, let’s see how Shalimar handles the treble.”

Kendal was halfway around the course and coming in towards the treble, when Georgie noticed Hans Schockelmann striding across the arena towards Tara.

“Tara, darling!” Hans waved at her. Tara stiffened at the sight of him.

“Hans, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she said. “We’re in the middle of team training.”

“Really?” Hans said. “Do you mind if I watch?”

“Yes, I do!” Tara looked at him with an incredulous expression on her face. “You’re the opposition!”

“Tara,” Hans shook his head, “I don’t think of you as competition.”

He smiled at her. “There’s no way you’re going to beat my Adelaide girls – so why don’t you at least take advantage of my help while I’m here? I am the world’s number one ranked showjumper after all. It’s not every day that Hans Schockelmann turns up and offers to give a free lesson to a group of Blainford pupils.”

Tara looked at him in disbelief. “You always were a patronising egomaniac, Hans,” she said. “Even when we were at school together.”

Hans gave Tara a dark smile, clearly pleased that he had managed to ruffle her demeanour. “As I recall, Tara, you rather liked my egotism then.”

“Well, I’m over it now!” Tara snarled. She looked him dead in the eye. “If you’re so confident about winning the House Showjumping, how about a little wager then?”

Hans frowned. “Tara, I have no problem taking you up on your little bet, but I am certain it would be against Blainford rules for teachers to put money on their students.”

“Who said anything about money?” Tara replied. “I can think of a far more fitting bet between us.” “Name it,” Hans said.

“The School Formal is two weeks from now on Saturday night,” Tara said. “The loser has to perform a break-dance in front of the whole school.”

Hans’ smirk disappeared. “You’re kidding.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Tara said.

Hans nodded. “OK,” he said, “you’ve made your point – you’re still bitter about the Formal, I get that.”

“I’m not bitter,” Tara said, “I’d just like to see you break-dance – that’s all.”

Hans glared at her. “OK, we will have your little bet. I hope you are ready to lose.”

“Oh, I’m not losing,” Tara said. “And if I were you, Hans, I’d leave this arena right now and go home and start throwing shapes.”

Tara had a confident smile on her face as she watched Hans walk off across the arena. But when she turned back to her team she wasn’t smiling.

“Right!” their trainer said. “This is our last training session so let’s not waste any more time.”

She fixed a steely gaze on the girls. “In case I haven’t already made myself clear, I intend to go out there and take it to Adelaide and Luhmuhlen this weekend. This is the House Showjumping finals – and we’re riding to win.”