Flame and the Rebel Riders (9 page)

Verity didn’t look pleased about this, but she did as Ginty asked. She emerged from the truck wearing a pair of rubber gloves and carrying a tube of creamy paste, which she rubbed quickly into the front of all four of Quebec’s legs. The cream dissolved as she rubbed it in so that it couldn’t be seen.

“What’s that for?” Issie asked.

“It’s a therapeutic rub,” Ginty said vaguely.

Issie had seen riders use white grease on their horses’ legs for eventing, but she’d never seen anyone apply a rub before showjumping. Mind you, she’d never used studs in her pony’s shoes either. That was the
difference between being a pony-club rider and being a professional, she realised. There were so many tricks of the trade that she knew nothing about.

There were three jumping arenas at Sandilands. Issie would be riding in arena number one, the pony ring, on Quebec. As she warmed the pony up in the practice arena, Issie could feel the nerves forming a tight knot in her tummy. She recognised so many famous faces here today, riders who had been on the showjumping circuit for years, all of them with their strings of perfect, polished jumping ponies. Competing against them, especially with Cassandra Steele watching her, suddenly felt like a big step indeed.

When they called her name, Issie rode into the arena straight away, and did a whole lap around the jumps before the bell rang. The bell signalled that she had one minute left before she had to ride Quebec through the flags to begin their round. She crossed the start line at a fast canter and had the first jump in her sights before she checked the pony hard with the reins, just as Ginty
had instructed. She held Quebec until they were just a couple of strides out from the fence before she let him loose again and the little dun bounded forward and flew the fence cleanly. As soon as they were on the other side he tried to charge off with her, but Issie was too quick, gathering him back up again into a tightly controlled canter, just as Ginty had coached her to do in the training sessions.

Issie had thought Ginty was being overly optimistic when she told Cassandra that Quebec would win his class today, but maybe the flame-haired trainer was right. As Quebec flew clear over jump after jump, luck certainly seemed to be on their side. Normally, back in Ginty’s yard, riding Quebec tended to be like a giant game of pick-up-sticks because the pony was so prone to knocking down rails. But not today in the show ring. Quebec’s hooves never so much as brushed a pole as he took the fences one after the other with ease. Issie rode out of the arena with a huge grin on her face. Clear round!

There was a burst of applause from Cassandra on the sidelines.

“Excellent work!” Ginty beamed at her as Issie came out of the arena. “Good stuff.”

“He was so much better than he is at Dulmoth!” Issie enthused.

“Quebec always rides perfectly at home,” Ginty corrected her, knowing that Cassandra was standing nearby and could hear them. “But you’re right, he was particularly brilliant in there. Some horses like to perform in front of a crowd.”

It turned out to be a morning of triumphs. Issie and Quebec had taken first place in the class just as Ginty predicted they would. Verity, meanwhile, had also taken first place in the hack ring on Tottie, who seemed absolutely sound, with not a trace of lameness. Natasha and Tokyo had come third in their class too, while Penny’s horse, Vertigo, had done the slightly faster time to come second ahead of them. By the time they stopped for lunch break it was official: the Dulmoth Park team were at the top of the accumulator table!

Being on the winning team can turn even the bitterest enemies into firm friends. The success of Team Ginty was so infectious that Natasha was suddenly acting like she and Issie were besties.

“Even Araminta Chatswood-Smith’s team haven’t got more points than us,” Natasha told Issie, beaming from
ear to ear as they tied up the horses and gave them their hay nets. “We totally rule!”

Their reign at the top of the table, though, was about to take a blow. As Issie mounted up on Flame for his first event, she could sense straight away that the horse was tense. And as they warmed up over the practice jump, Flame was pulling like a train.

“Hold him back!” Ginty instructed her as Issie turned Flame to face the practice jump — a low cross-rail. “Hold him all the way. Look for the stride and then release!”

Issie did as Ginty said. At the very last minute, about two strides out from the jump, she let the reins slacken and Flame virtually bolted! He took the fence at a frantic gallop, acting totally strung-out. It took Issie all her strength to pull him up — even with the gag bit. She was worried that Flame was getting out of control. But when she got back to Ginty’s side, the trainer seemed unfazed by his mad behaviour.

“He’s a bit eager,” was Ginty’s assessment of the situation. “Just remember to hang on tight until you see your stride,” she passed Issie the whip, “and use this.”

They were at the gates of the arena now and Flame’s
name was being called over the loudspeaker. Even though the jumps in the hack ring for his class were only eighty centimetres — which should have been a breeze for a horse of his size — Issie still felt worried. Flame was crab-stepping now, fighting against her hands and constantly grabbing at the reins as if he might bolt at any moment.

All she could hope was that once they entered the arena, Flame would settle down. It was foolish optimism, of course. If anything, the horse was much worse. He was virtually cantering on the spot and his head was up high above the bit. He wasn’t listening to Issie at all! As they set off to begin their round Flame was in a disunited canter as he raced through the flags. The gag bit seemed to be doing nothing whatsoever, and she had to fight him like mad to bring him back in front of the first fence and look to find a stride. Despite her efforts, Flame jumped long, landing badly and taking out half the fence with his hind legs. It was the same over the next jump and the one after that. The poles fell like skittles and every time Flame hit a rail with his legs he seemed almost to leap out of his skin. It was as if his legs were being given electric shocks each time they struck the jumps.

It was the maddest round Issie had ever ridden in her life, and they finished on twenty-eight faults. Issie was just glad they had made it through the course alive. Flame was so strung-out he was dangerous.

This time as she left the arena, Cassandra Steele didn’t look so pleased, and neither did Ginty.

“Take him for a cool-down walk,” Ginty told her with a sour face. “And then unsaddle him and wash him down. He’s supposed to be in one more class today, but after that performance I think we’ll withdraw him.”

Natasha had finished riding on Tokyo for the day too and was already at the wash bays, about to start hosing the mare down.

“I saw Flame acting up in there,” Natasha said, shaking her head. “It’s not your fault. That horse is nuts.”

Issie didn’t know what to say. She waited for her turn in the wash bay, watching as Natasha bent down to undo the bell boots on Tokyo’s front legs. Natasha ripped off the boots and then her face suddenly went white as a sheet and she began to squeal in pain.

“Ohmygod! Owww!”

“What is it?” Issie was confused. “What’s wrong? Did she stand on your foot or something?”

“No! It’s my hand!” Natasha shrieked. “My right hand! It feels like it’s on fire!”

“What have you done to it?” Issie asked.

“I haven’t done doing anything! I was just taking off her boots,” Natasha said, “and I felt something sticky on my hand. Oww! It’s burning!”

Issie looked down at Tokyo’s legs. They were damp and sticky. “It must be the liniment!” Issie said. “Verity was putting it on the horses before they jumped. I saw her put it on Quebec. She was wearing gloves.”

“Get it off me!” Natasha was yelling. Her eyes were wide and her face was white with pain.

“Put the hose on it!” Issie said. There was no one else around to help them, so Issie grabbed Tokyo’s lead rope and led the mare towards the hitching rail while Natasha tried to hold the hose with one hand and stick her other hand into the spout of cold water.

“It feels a little better,” Natasha whimpered as Issie returned to her side.

“Keep holding it under the water,” Issie told her. She grabbed a sponge out of her grooming kit. “Here,” she said, “use this to wipe your hands to get the rest of it off.”

“I think it’s all gone,” Natasha said a minute later, examining her hand in amazement. “Weird! My hand feels all numb and tingly!” She turned to Issie. “What the hell is in that stuff?”

“I don’t know,” Issie said. “But whatever it is, Verity has been putting it on our horses!”

After the drama with the liniment, Issie couldn’t help telling Natasha about her own story, that first day at the stables when she saw Verity with the hypodermic needle.

“And you’re sure she was actually injecting Tottie with it?” Natasha was astonished.

“Totally,” Issie said. “I saw her do it.”

“What do you think was in the syringe?”

“I don’t know,” Issie replied. “But after what happened to you today, I think we have to tell Ginty.”

The two girls agreed that telling Ginty was the right thing to do. But it was no use trying to talk to her here at Sandilands. They knew that Ginty would be furious if they brought up something like this in front of Cassandra.

“We’ll tell her in the truck on the way home,” Issie assured Natasha. But this also proved impossible, as Verity had organised the seating again and made sure that she was the one sitting up front with Ginty.

It wasn’t until they had got back to the stables and all the horses were unloaded and fed and Verity had gone home for the night that the pair finally got the chance.

They found Ginty in her office, sorting out paperwork. “Issie! Natasha!” Ginty said stiffly when she saw the girls in her doorway. “I thought you two would have gone home already. Why are you still here?”

“You tell her!” Natasha hissed.

“Why me?” Issie shot back. They were both losing their nerve.

“Because…” Natasha said, giving Issie a shove to make her step forward, “…it was your idea!”

“Issie?” Ginty was already fed up with the pair of them loitering in her doorway. “Do you have something you want to tell me?”

Issie nodded. “I. I don’t want to tell tales on other riders, but after what happened today…”

“What happened? What are you talking about?” Ginty said. “This sounds serious.”

“It is,” Issie said. “It’s about Verity. We think she’s been giving something to the horses. I saw her the other day injecting Tottie with something and she said not to tell anyone. And then today she was putting that liniment on them and when Natasha touched it as we were washing the horses down afterwards it burnt her hand…”

As Issie explained everything that had happened, with Natasha standing beside her in mute agreement, Ginty listened intently. She sat behind her desk and absorbed the whole story and then she asked, “You two haven’t spoken to anyone else about this?”

Issie shook her head. “We thought we should tell you first.”

Ginty nodded sagely. “You did the right thing. I think it’s best if we continue to keep this between ourselves. There could be talk on the circuit if word of this sort of thing got out.”

“Oh, we won’t tell anyone!” Natasha said. “Right, Issie?”

Issie nodded in agreement. Both of them could see Ginty’s point. Gossip could get vicious, and if a rumour got out about Verity’s behaviour, it could cause all sorts of trouble.

“Are you going to talk to Verity about it?” Issie asked nervously.

“Don’t worry,” Ginty said. “Leave it with me.” There was an ominous chill in her voice as she added, “I’ll deal with Verity.”

At 7 a.m. the next day the girls were in the loose boxes tacking up when they heard Ginty’s voice booming out down the corridor. “Verity?” the trainer called. “In my office! Now!”

Issie and Natasha peered cautiously over the Dutch doors of their stalls as Verity walked past them towards Ginty, who was standing with her arms crossed waiting for her.

They watched as Ginty opened the office door and beckoned for Verity to come inside and then shut it firmly behind her.

“Come on!” Natasha said excitedly.

“What? What do you mean,
come on?”
Issie said,
horrified. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To listen to their conversation!” Natasha said. “Don’t you want to hear what happens?”

“Of course I do, but—”

“Then stop being such a nana!” Natasha said. “Follow me!”

Natasha had been riding at Ginty’s stables for long enough to know her way around the place. For instance, she knew that if you headed out the back door of the stables and went around through the gardens behind the scarlet hibiscus trees, you would end up beneath Ginty’s office window. The two girls were hidden among the plants there, crouching down close enough to hear everything that was going on inside. Ginty was doing all the talking. She must have been pretty rough on Verity already, because the head groom was in tears and pleading with the trainer.

“I wasn’t trying to cause trouble!” she told Ginty between sobs. “I just wanted Tottie to be OK—”

“Tottie is not your horse and these matters are not for you to decide,” Ginty said with a distinctly frosty tone to her voice. “You have betrayed my trust. And your actions at the show yesterday put this whole stable
at risk. If the showjumping federation inspectors heard rumours of doping you know what would happen. We’d be banned from competing!”

“What’s going to happen to Tottie?” Verity sniffled. “And the others?”

“The horses are not your concern,” Ginty told the head groom. “Verity, I’m afraid your behaviour leaves me with no other choice. Go back to the tack room and pack your bags. Your services here are no longer required. You can leave immediately.”

Crouching beneath the window, Issie and Natasha looked at each other in total shock. What had they done? Verity had just been fired!

Training continued that day without Verity. It was a rest day for all the horses that had competed the day before and Issie, Natasha and Penny took three of Dulmoth Park’s up-and-coming green four-year-olds who had only recently been broken to saddle out for a hack through the forest that backed on to Dulmoth Park’s grounds. Being young, the horses were a little spooky at first, but
once they were actually in the forest, they trotted quite happily in single file down the sandy paths that ran between the trees, with Penny taking the lead on a chestnut mare called Delta.