Hot Potato (11 page)

Shelby waited for the torchlight to shine across her
face. She opened her eye a fraction, expecting to see
Lindsey's mum looming over her. It took her a
moment to realise that Mrs Edel was speaking to the
Arabian mare.

Shelby lifted up her head, risking a peek. Only a
few metres away the mare rested her chin on Mrs
Edel's shoulder. Mrs Edel had her back to Shelby and
stroked the horse around the ears. 'What's all this
fussing about, you silly girl?' she murmured.

In the next paddock the quarter horse ended his
vigil and watched on with interest. The thoroughbreds
slowed to a walk and then bent their heads to graze.

Shelby ducked as Mrs Edel swept the paddock once
more with the torch before she turned back to the house.

She stayed still in the long grass until the veranda
light went out. Her cheek was throbbing now and her
head pounded. What she wanted to do most of all was
lie still and sleep. She thought about how cosy it
would be lying in bed. But first she had something to
do, and she'd come this far.

This time as she walked across the paddock the two
horses ignored her completely.
Typical
, she thought.

She crept around the back of the stable block, out
of sight of the house. She could hear the horses
moving around inside and she hummed softly, so as
not to startle them.

Soon she could see Ajax's stable at the end of the
row. In the gloom she could just make out the big
gelding standing in the stable with his ears laid back.
He was leaning his weight on one hind leg, and it
made his rump look even more sloping and bony than
normal. She slipped through the gate.

'Hey there, big fella. Aren't you just the meanest
boy in the whole world?' she said, trying to sound
bright. Shelby edged around the front of him, keeping
her hand on his chest or shoulder. Once she was past
him Ajax swished his tail.

Shelby pulled the fifty-dollar note out of her
pocket and crumpled it in her hand.

The tack room door creaked as it swung away from
her hand. Shelby could hear Ajax's hooves rustling
through the rice hulls as he moved around behind her.
She tossed the note underhand. When it landed on the
wooden floor it unfurled like flower petals.

All done! Shelby smiled. That was much easier
than she had thought. Now she could go home to her
wonderful, warm, snuggly bed.

She turned and took a step forward. She didn't
know what had happened at first, but she was moving
backwards and she couldn't breathe. She felt the
second blow full in the stomach. One hoof hit her in
the guts – right over her belly button. The other slid
across her hip. She felt like throwing up.

Shelby raised her arms and tried to take a step backwards
to regain balance, but the back of her calf caught
on the tack room doorsill and she fell into the room.

A brief image appeared in her mind of the
appaloosa filly stuck in a corner of the paddock,
squealing with fear and panic, then the doctor's face,
like a ghost, in front of her eyes, saying,
'Keep away
from horses for at least four to five weeks.'
Inside her
head, she heard her own voice telling Erin on the
phone,
'I just can't go in with the bad horses,'
and
then the back of her head hit the wooden floor.

'Wake up!'

Shelby swam back into consciousness, and immediately
wished for sleep. Her head pounded and her
cheekbone felt as though it was so swollen that her
skin would burst like an overripe tomato.

Her chest hurt too, and there was a rattling sensation
inside when she breathed. That was a new one
to add to the list of pains, along with the ache in her
stomach, and the sharp stabbing sensation over
her hip.

Two strong arms gathered her up – one around her
shoulders and the other under her knees. She could
smell a leathery scent, like the smell of the saddlery,
but crossed with a musky aroma. She opened her eyes.

'Clint,' she mumbled.

'Don't move. Let's get you inside and then we can
have a proper look at you.' He swept her up and
carried her across the stable and into the laneway.

It was still quite dark, although Shelby thought the
light had a pinkish-grey quality, as though it was not
far from dawn. She must have blacked-out for hours!
Then she remembered she had awoken at some stage
during the night, but her head hurt, so she lay still
until sleep washed over her again.

'It looks like you might have broken your cheekbone.
You'll be lucky if he hasn't fractured your skull.
I'll get Brenda to phone an ambulance. He's a monster,
that horse. Maybe this time they'll shoot him. I'll
shoot him myself!'

'No! You don't understand.' Shelby struggled.
'I broke my cheek before. Please don't take me inside.
I'll be fine. I just need to get home.'

Clint wasn't listening. He was almost running now.
'Lord knows how long you've been lying there! I'm
sure your parents are sick with worry.'

'Let me go!' Shelby struggled more vigorously, and
Clint's grip toughened. 'No! I broke my face on Friday!
It wasn't Ajax, it was Hotty. You know – the chestnut.
I've been to the hospital already. Ajax kicked me in the
guts. I must have hit my head when I fell down.'

'Then what are you doing . . .?' Clint slowed. Realisation
crossed his face. 'Oh, this is about the money.'

He loosened his hold under her knees. Shelby
swung to the ground. She moved away, looking down,
straightening her clothing to avoid his eyes.

'Shelly Shoes.' He sighed.

'Are you going to dob on me?'

Clint rubbed his face with his hand.

'What are you doing here anyway?' she asked.

He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. 'I'm
trucking some horses up the coast for a mate. I
thought I'd get an early start so I can be back for the
barbecue. I just dropped in to see if Tammy had left
my payment.'

They stared at each other for a moment.

'I don't suppose your parents know where you
are.'

Shelby shook her head.

He sighed again, hands on hips, then cast his eyes
around, as though he was looking for something.

'Come on then. I'll run you home.'

Shelby climbed into the passenger side of Clint's
truck and gingerly secured her seatbelt over her sore
hip. She showed him where she had left her bike,
waiting in the cab while he placed it in the back.

Clint didn't say anything until they pulled out onto
Gully Way.

'I didn't want it to be you, Shelby.'

He was talking about the fifty dollars. She knew
she was in trouble, because he wasn't using his
nickname for her.

She bit her lip and answered quietly. 'I didn't know
it was for you. I thought Tammy had dropped it and
so I picked it up when I was doing the feeds. I meant
to give it to Mrs Edel when I'd finished, but I forgot
about it. When I remembered I wanted to give it back
as soon as I could, so I snuck out tonight.'

Clint didn't answer.

'I wanted to put it back straight away, because I
didn't want anyone to think I was a stealer.'

He nodded. It was a plausible story. Clint believed
it because he wanted it to be the truth. Shelby wished
it were.

He sighed again. 'This is very awkward. You can't
just go running around in the middle of the night,
Shelby. I should be taking you straight to hospital.
You've probably got pneumonia already, and internal
bleeding. And what if your parents see me dropping
you off at this hour? Can't you see that I will get into
trouble too? You've put me in a terrible position.'

'I'm sorry,' she said looking at her hands. 'You
could just drop me at the shops.'

'No, I'll take you all the way, but if your parents
are awake I'm telling them where I found you, and I'll
tell them that you need a bit of discipline in your life.
I'm serious! You're out of control, Shelby. You used to
be such a good girl.'

They drove along for another few minutes in
silence.

'Tell me what happened to your face.'

She explained what had happened.

'This gift horse you girls bought is turning out to
be quite a handful, isn't she?'

'Mm,' she murmured, watching the road ahead.

'Lucky you girls have got four months to whip her
into shape before Brenda's birthday.'

Shelby blinked. They were driving past the bakery,
which was open now. The smells wafted through the
air vents.

'Brenda is a Virgo. We've joked about it, because
Virgos are finicky.' Clint glanced at her. 'Are you sure
you don't have anything else you want to tell me while
you're already in trouble?'

She didn't say anything. They were only around
the corner now. Shelby was staring intently through
the windscreen and hoping that the lights in her house
would be out. The truck turned onto the street and
Shelby's house was in darkness. She sat back in her
seat, exhaling with relief.

'Thank you, Clint, and I'm really sorry.'

'You're very lucky,' he repeated, pulling on the
handbrake.

Shelby slid out of the cab and waited for him to
retrieve her bike. 'It won't happen again,' she said.

Clint shook his head. 'No more midnight adventures!'
And then he climbed back into the cab.

Shelby wheeled the bike up the driveway and
leaned it against the side of the house. She slipped
through the laundry door, changed and hopped into
bed. Her body was aching all over and she was
relieved to be lying down where it was soft. She rested
her hand on her sore stomach, wondering if it would
bruise as badly as her face.

It wouldn't happen again. Clint had his money.

Tammy need never know that it was lost. Erin was
going to help out at the stables until she was well, and
Hotty would be sold before she broke anyone else.
Shelby smiled and closed her eyes. She didn't need to
worry about anything. Soon everything was going to
go back to normal.

Shelby walked along the row of tables with her paper
plate, surveying the possibilities. Mrs Crook had
made the massive container of potato salad. Shelby
could tell because she was standing behind it, holding
the serving spoon and doling out scoops to the
worthy.

There were fluffy bread rolls with little squares of
butter in alfoil, slices of beetroot, and pineapple
chunks. There was coleslaw, tabbouleh and a platter
of marinated chicken wings. Erin's mum had brought
those slimy green dolmades again – much to Erin's
horror – but, judging from the number left in the
Tupperware dish, the adults were enjoying them.

One of the mums was flipping sausages and
minute steaks on the barbecue. The other parents
hovered nearby, offering advice – ready to take over
the tongs and egg-slice at the first opportunity.

Shelby had taken a painkiller before they left home.
She felt a little bit bleary and vague, like when you
wake up in the middle of a dream. Her face didn't hurt,
but she could feel a steady thrum of discomfort on one
side of her head. When she woke up that morning there
was a hoof-shaped bruise on her stomach and a graze
on her hip, but neither was hurting now.

She wasn't sure if eating was still going to be
painful so she experimented, tucking a wedge of
tomato between her teeth on the undamaged side of
her face. It wasn't too bad, but she realised she wasn't
hungry.
Wow! I don't think I've ever lost my appetite
before
, she thought.

Despite Mrs Edel's request, several of the families
had brought their dogs, and a group of the younger
girls had dragged the jumps out from where they had
been stacked in the corner and were holding a
jumping competition for all the dogs.

Lindsey had volunteered to be the judge so she
could make sure that it didn't become too rowdy.
Erin, on the other hand, was contributing to the
raucousness. She was sitting on one of the brightly
coloured forty-four-gallon drums, and when a round
was complete she'd bang on it with one of her hands.
In her other hand she was using one of the arena's
witch's hats to provide a running commentary.

There was a tan border collie who was doing very
well, but not all of the dogs caught on so quickly. A
furry black cocker spaniel kept ducking under the
brightly coloured poles.

'Once again we have Olivia and Spanky approaching
the jump at a nice loping canter. Will Spanky make
it over this time? Errrr!' called Erin, mimicking a
buzzer.

The dog's young owner shouted, 'Spanky! Naughty
boy!' Spanky glanced up at her, bounding, tongue
lolling, and then at the next jump he slipped under the
pole again.

'What a shame. That's
another
penalty, eliminating
this fine combination once again from the competition.
Will the judge overlook this obvious disqualification
one more time?' A nod from Lindsey. 'Yes,
I thought so,' mused Erin.

Shelby smiled and held her sore cheek.

She was especially happy today because one of the
conditions her mum set out for her coming to the
barbecue was that her dad stayed, instead of dropping
her off, like he usually did.

'I think you'll be too tired to stay the whole time,'
her mother had said in the morning. 'You do appreciate
that your dad will have to hang around the whole
time like a soccer parent, don't you?'

Shelby realised that her parents thought she
wouldn't want them there. She shook her head. All
this time she'd hoped that her mum and dad would
become friendly with the other horsey parents and get
involved at Pony Club, and meanwhile her parents
had been studiously giving her space to pursue her
hobby without interference.

When they first arrived at the barbecue Erin's
father had handed her dad a light beer and the two of
them wandered over to the corner of the arena, where
all the eskies were stacked, to talk with Mr Crook.

Erin's dad was waving his hands in the air, explaining
something – his beer sloshing away in the bottle –
and then all three of them burst into laughter. Shelby
hoped that her dad would find common ground with
the others.

Clint sauntered over to join them. She bit her lip,
but then Clint tipped his hat towards her. Clint was no
dobber. Shelby's dad shook Clint's hand and they all
talked together, relaxed and at ease with each other.

Shelby added a steak sandwich with onions to her
uneaten salads and took the plate to her father.

'Thanks, honey!' He seemed genuinely pleased.

'Oy! Where's mine?' asked Clint.

'Hales!' Mr Crook called over to the other side of
the arena, where Hayley was standing with Monica
and Kim – two of the girls who rented the stables
opposite the Crooks. 'Do you see this?' He pointed to
Shelby. 'This is how a dutiful daughter behaves.'

Hayley poked her tongue out and then turned back
to her chums.

Shelby blushed. She didn't want people to think
she was a suck-up. Her dad ruffled the top of her
head. 'Go and get something for yourself, honey.'

Over her father's shoulder she saw Tammy
sashaying along the fence and in through the gate,
followed by two friends. Shelby quickly turned
around, hiding behind Miss Anita, who was talking
with a group of parents. Shelby peeked over a tall
lady's shoulder.

'Clint! There you are.' Tammy beamed. 'This is my
extraordinary farrier. You saw how spirited Ajax was.
Not everyone can handle him, but Clint is a genius,'
she told her friends, and then she leaned forward and
spoke to Clint out of the side of her mouth. 'Did you
get the money I left for you?'

Clint crossed his arms. 'Eventually. You might
want to put a weight on it next time, or you could pay
me in person. A lot of my clients like to be there to
talk about the health of their horse's hooves.'

Tammy waved her arm. 'I'm sure if there was a
problem you'd ring me.'

Just then Miss Anita and her companions moved
away, leaving Shelby face to face with Tammy. Shelby
blushed furiously.

'Clint told me that Ajax kicked you. I'm really
sorry that happened,' she said.

'That's OK,' Shelby mumbled.

'You know, Ajax is a real horse – not like those little
ponies you're used to,' Tammy continued. 'I might
suggest to Brenda that she leaves handling
horses
to
people with more experience.' Tammy turned around
and led her friends to the food table.

Shelby shook her head, glad at least that it was
over. Clint arched an eyebrow at her, but he didn't say
anything.

A few moments later Mrs Edel stood up on a crate
and banged a caterer's size tomato sauce bottle with a
big plastic spoon.

'If I could have your attention, I would like to
begin the formal part of the afternoon.'

Shelby's dad glanced around, embarrassed, looking
for a place to dump his plate and then escape, but the
other three men insisted that he stay.

'After all, your family keeps a horse here too,' said
Mr Crook.

'I suppose.' Shelby's dad shrugged and then helped
himself to a second steak sandwich.

Lindsey's mum talked about how the drought had
been affecting the pastures. She talked about the weed
management plan for the next few months. She
explained the new paperwork and procedures for
insurance, and went over the rules about the driveway
and float parking.

Shelby edged through the crowd to Lindsey and
Erin, who were still at the mini jumping circuit. The
two girls scooted over so that Shelby could fit on the
end of the drum. Erin draped an arm around Lindsey's
neck and rested her head on Shelby's shoulder. Shelby
looked up to see Hayley staring at them, but Hayley
quickly looked away.

'Boring!' Lindsey mumbled, rolling her eyes.

Shelby grimaced, but secretly she was interested in
what Mrs Edel was saying, because one day she was
going to run a place like this. Lindsey's mum did a
pretty good job of it. Shelby could learn a lot from her.

'I've been going through the paperwork and some of
the information seems to be incorrect,' said Mrs Edel.
'Next time you are making a payment please attach
your contact details so that we can check it against our
database.'

The crowd started to murmur, anticipating that
Mrs Edel was almost finished.

'Please make sure that your payments are up to
date,' she yelled over the top of them. 'Now, does
anyone know Gwen Stefani? Is she here today? I
haven't been able to find her anywhere.'

At first there was silence, and then there was a
general mumbling and rumbling as those assembled
talked amongst themselves. Shelby could hear little
grabs of conversations.

'Isn't she the president of the Welsh Pony and Cob
Society?' asked Olivia's mother. The cocker spaniel at
her feet strained against his lead.

'No, you're thinking of Gladys Stephens. She was
the treasurer,' replied Mr Crook.

'I know a Gwen Barton who used to have draught
horses,' said Erin's mum. 'She volunteers at the school
canteen on Wednesdays.'

'Maybe Stefani is her married name?' suggested the
mum who had cooked the sausages.

'That name is really familiar to me,' said Mrs Crook,
tapping her chin with her index finger. 'Where's Hales?
She'll remember.'

'It's quite an unusual name really. How many of
them can there be?' asked Miss Anita.

The rumbling got louder and louder as the different
groups compared information.

'Did she say Gwen Stefani?' shrieked Hayley's
friend Kim. 'No way!'

'She's famous!' yelled Monica.

Erin grabbed Shelby's hand. She was squeezing
so hard that it hurt. She must have been crushing
Lindsey's hand too.

Hayley Crook manoeuvred through the crowd
towards them.

The crowd hit fever pitch. Girls were screaming.

'Has she been here? OMIGOD! Gwen Stefani was
here
!'

'Which horse is Gwen Stefani's?' one parent roared.

'Yeah! We want to see it!' Mrs Crook demanded.

Mrs Edel was banging away on the tomato sauce
bottle trying to call the mob to order.

'What are we going to do?' whispered Lindsey.

'I don't know!' wailed Erin.

'Shh! Don't panic!' said Shelby.

'Are you ready to tell me what's going on yet?'
Hayley asked with her hands on her hips.

'It's not Gwen Stefani's. It's our horse,' Erin blurted.
'We made up the name because we didn't want our
parents to know.'

'Der,' said Hayley. 'Clint knows though, right?'

They looked at each other. 'Maybe,' admitted
Lindsey.

'No way!' said Erin.

'Well, he's headed this way!' said Hayley.

Shelby could see Clint striding across the arena.
With each step his boots sent a spray of sand behind
him.

The crowd had split into two. The group in the
middle were mostly girls shouting hysterically at one
another. All the dogs were barking, capering around
and wagging their tails. On the other side of the arena
a larger group of the parents, including Shelby's dad
and Mr Crook, stood in a semicircle, watching on,
still eating and sipping their drinks, as though this
were some kind of performance.

It was so loud that Shelby could hardly hear Clint
when he spoke. 'Not so lucky now, Shelly Shoes.'
Clint had a gleam of amusement in his eyes.

'You're enjoying this!'

He shrugged. 'Sometimes it's good to see people
getting their just desserts.'

Shelby's mouth dropped open. 'I did get kicked in
the head already!' She pointed to her face.

'Yes, but that's not funny. This, though – this is
gold! I can't wait to tell the missus. She asks me about
you girls every day when I walk in the door. "What
have they done now?" It's like one of those stories on
the radio that you hear in instalments.'

'You've known from the
beginning
?' asked Erin.

Clint chuckled. 'That little pony has been
bouncing around the sales for months. Don't you
remember all the fellas having a go at me – talking
about whose turn it was? Some silly fool tried to get
her in a box-trailer once. That's why they made those
jokes about folding her up and putting her in my
pocket.'

Shelby thought back. 'Oh, yeah.' It made sense
now
. At the time it had just seemed like teasing.

'Was Gwen Stefani here?' Kim shouted at Mrs
Edel. The hysterical crowd of girls swarmed around
Lindsey's mum.

'I don't know!' Mrs Edel shouted back. 'Lindsey
took the booking.'

The whole congregation swivelled around looking
for Lindsey. They found her and surged forward.

'Well?' asked Mrs Edel.

'Yes, Lindsey, the people are waiting,' Clint said.

Lindsey's face was white and her mouth opened
and closed like a goldfish.