Riding on Air (23 page)

“I know that was sharp, but this is important and I don't want you sitting there thinking about what you're going to say next. I want you to listen with both ears pricked, OK?”

“OK,” I said, smiling despite myself at that reminder of how Jennie had got my attention when I was a kid. Lots of horse stories.

Jennie smiled back at me and I released a breath I hadn't even known I was holding. At least she wasn't actually mad at me.

“I've known your Mum and your Dad for a long time, remember, even before your Dad and I started seeing each other. I can assure you that you had nothing to do with your mother leaving and neither did your diagnosis. Your Mum and Dad married young and their lives started to go in different directions. It's that simple and it happens a lot, unfortunately.”

“Is that what happened with your husband? Gary and Brendan's Dad?” I asked cautiously, not sure exactly where the line was in this conversation. Technically it wasn't any of my business and I knew it.

“We weren't actually married, but yes, that's pretty much why we separated.” Jennie glanced at me. “But don't you go thinking it happens to everyone.”

“I won't,” I said, thinking of Tash's parents, still happy—embarrassingly so, in Tash's opinion.

“As to your mother being stiff with you, I'm only guessing here, but I expect she was so afraid of hurting you she just over-reacted.”

I sat and stared at my stepmother. My heart giving a sickening lurch in my chest. I had never,
ever
thought of that. It felt so true and so obvious, now that Jennie had said it, just like when Tash said she thought it was stress upsetting my stomach though it had never once entered my mind. My mother was still stiff around me, as though she didn't want to touch me. Or maybe, just didn't know how to.

“Melissa? You've gone quite pale, are you OK?”

“No. I'm a stupid, horrible person.”

“No you're not, that's absurd.”

“All this time I thought she couldn't handle me having JRA. I thought she'd left because it was so disgusting to her and I just assumed whenever she tried to get me to live with her that it was just guilt and she didn't mean it. I have to call her, Jennie. I have to say I'm sorry.”

“It's too late tonight, honey. If you call her at this time of night you'll give her a heart attack. She's coming to watch you tomorrow—actually it's today, now, so you can tell her then, if you think you need to. I'm sure she understands.”

I'd been gathering my feet to get up and go for the phone, but I sank back into my seat. Jennie was right; calls at this time of night were usually bad news, like someone had been injured. I could send Mum a text though, before I went back to bed. I'd have to think about what to say that wouldn't make her think something was wrong. Hmm, maybe it would be better just to talk to her tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Today. My stomach rebelled again and I took a cautious sip of the hot chocolate. It was divine—rich and creamy, the marshmallow a half-melted delicious gooey lump.

“I'm so glad you married Dad,” I murmured and Jennie burst out laughing.

“I do make a mean hot chocolate.”

“It's not that. Or not only that,” I added, grinning. I felt unaccountably lighter, almost dizzy, and my stomach gurgled in hunger rather than anxiety. I'd been unable to eat much dinner. I drank more of the hot chocolate. My stomach subsided and I could almost imagine the milky beverage sliding down and settling the uneasy beast that lurked in my gut.

“I know, honey. I love you lots, you know?”

“I know. I love you too.”

“Thank you. And you'll love me more in the morning. I'll get Gary to feed Jinx so you don't have to get up quite so early.”

“I love you more already,” I said enthusiastically and we laughed.

I sipped more chocolate and sighed with relief as I sensed that heaviness stealing over my shoulders and thighs, as I started to feel sleepy. I finished my hot chocolate and gave Jennie a kiss goodnight, something I didn't do as often now I was older, then gave her back her slippers before I headed down the hall. I made a brief detour to the toilet to make sure a full bladder didn't wake me prematurely in the morning and then put my bedside light on so I could adjust my alarm. Two whole extra hours in bed, bliss.

I climbed into bed and turned out the light, pressing the heel of my hand to the oversized switch without even really thinking about it. It was only as I was finally, deliciously, sliding over the brink into sleep that a thought struck me, but by then I was too wrung out and exhausted for even that to keep me awake. Still, I knew it would be coming back for me in the morning.

If I'd been so wrong for so long about my mother, what if I'd been wrong about William? Maybe I'd been looking at that the wrong way around, too.

I stood around, useless, watching my friends get Jinx ready for the most important competition I'd ever entered him in. It was not at all helpful in settling my nerves and neither was the text message I'd impulsively sent that morning during the drive to the showground.

It wasn't to Mum. In the light of day I couldn't think of anything that wouldn't make her think something was up and I didn't know exactly how to apologise for something I wasn't sure she actually knew I'd ever thought. No, I'd try to make it up to her in other ways. Spending some time with her would probably be a good start, but I wasn't sure I'd mention that today either. It might give her a stroke. Which, you know, would kind of defeat the whole purpose.

I closed my gloved fingers loosely around the phone tucked in my hoodie. I didn't want to leave my phone in the car, not until I was ready to get on and warm Jinx up. Just in case.

I'd sent a message to William. It wasn't a very long text, although it had taken me most of the half-hour drive to figure out exactly what to say. And in the end I couldn't say exactly what was in my heart anyway—I was just too scared. I'd done what I could though and I just had to hope it would make a difference.

I looked at my horse, standing quietly by the float while Tash and Eleni, out of her sling and able now to use both hands again, put the finishing touches to his presentation. His coat shone so brightly you could almost use him as a mirror to do your makeup and the line of tiny black rosettes Tash had fastened his mane into were far more neat and even than my Dad or my brothers had ever managed for me. The days I could do his mane myself were long gone.

Tash stood right behind Jinx's round shining rump, nimble fingers flashing as she finished weaving the top hairs of Jinx's tail into a braid. I flexed my own fingers in an echo of longing and forced myself to look away. I took a few deep breaths of the chilly damp air and tried not to waste energy on wishing for something I couldn't have. I was really tired of doing that, but I couldn't seem to help it. Slow learner, obviously.

Nothing was a safe topic to think about today.

“What time's your first test again?”

“10.15,” I said.

Tash cocked her wrist and glanced at her watch.

“We'd better saddle up, then. Do you need any help to get dressed?”

I fought a brief struggle between the desire to have the best possible chance at riding a good test and pride. For once, I managed to strangle pride and shove it in a dark cupboard.

“Yes please.”

Tash glanced at Eleni. “Jinx or Melissa?”

“I'll help Melissa, you're definitely better with horses.”

“Thanks so little,” Tash said, grinning.

“Welcome,” Eleni returned. She gave Jinx's muzzle a final gentle swipe with the damp cloth she'd bundled up in her fist before tossing it in the bucket at her feet. Producing another, cleaner cloth from the pocket of the apron she wore over her tee and jeans, she came towards me, wiping her hands.

She was such a pro at this. I was lucky to have her here. Organised and calm, she had every possible doodad and gadget known to the horse world that could possibly make life easier at a competition. I guess you have to be on top of things when you were an eventer. There was so much gear and feed and stuff you needed to assemble just to go to a one-day dressage competition; the amount of crap you must need for three days and three totally different types of contest was truly mind boggling.

Eleni and I went into the horse float, which now doubled as a dressing room. We didn't say much while she helped me strip off the overalls that I had on to keep my shirt and jods clean. Eleni tied my stock and pinned it in place with the lucky stock-pin Dad had given me for my 16
^th
birthday. She held the boot hooks in place while I wriggled my stockinged feet into my boots and did up the buttons of my waistcoat. She patted some escaping hair back into my bun, sprayed me with hairspray, twitched a hairnet into place and finally settled my helmet over the result with a finesse that would have done justice to a celebrity hairdresser.

Finally Eleni handed me my gloves. “You better put these on yourself,” she said. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“Thanks,” I said, trying to hide how glum I felt at this reminder. It must have been obvious to everyone around me why Mum didn't know how to hug me. Why she was hesitant to touch me. Only I hadn't worked it out.

“You don't want to put your coat on yet?”

“Not until I'm about to go for a gear check. I just get sweaty.”

“Sure.”

Eleni tucked a comb into the top pocket on her groom's apron and then winced, lifting her other hand to rub at her recently healed collarbone. If you knew where to look you could see a bump, although the doctors had told her the bone would keep remodelling until it all looked pretty much normal again. Unless you x-rayed her, of course.

“Don't overdo it,” I said, worried. She hadn't been out of the sling for long and she was supposed to take it slowly.

Eleni flushed guiltily and bit her lip. “I'm sorry,” she started to say, but I shook my head fiercely at her.

“Don't be,” I said. “It makes
me
feel guilty.”

Eleni chewed on her lip some more as she finished tidying the hairspray and pins away, then looked at me.

“You shouldn't. You know, I always thought I knew what you must go through, with the pain and having to be so careful of your hands all the time. But I had
no
idea. Not until I felt it for myself. I was so relieved to finally get my arm out of that sling. It hit me then that you have it 10 times worse, you—” she broke off, the flush deepening.

“It's OK. I know what you mean. I don't get to take my sling off,” I said.

“Yeah. I don't know how you do it.”

I stood there in immaculate breeches and shining boots, with my perfect bun and beautifully tied stock, and the answer was obvious.

“With help from my friends,” I said and grinned despite myself. I gave a fancy—if careful—flourish to indicate my outfit. Eleni's eyes sparkled with understanding and maybe something else.

“I'm not so tough. It's harder for everyone else than it is for me,” I said honestly. I'd only realised that recently, but Eleni shrugged, as if maybe it was no news to her.

“Lots of things are, aren't they? I get heaps more nervous watching you or Tash compete than when I'm riding.”

“Gah, you had to remind me,” I said, stomach rolling.

“You'll be fine once you're on Jinx. But we better get going or you'll be rushed to warm up.”

We stepped down out of the float and went around to where Tash was just tightening the girth on Jinx. In his good competition bridle and his eyeball-scorching-white dressage saddlecloth he looked so amazing it just about made my head explode. My stomach churned anxiously. God, what if I let him down? What if I let everyone down?

Usually it was just me and Jinx out to conquer the world. Now I felt like I had to do well for Eleni and Tash. And Jennie, Dad and the boys, who'd not only fed and changed Jinx's rugs this morning, but had also hitched the float and packed all my gear. And of course, for Mum, who I must have wounded unbearably a thousand times but who always gave in when I begged to ride. No matter how much she was afraid of a fall.

I got that now. I understood that all the things she'd done that seemed forced, or cold, or like she didn't really love me, were just because she couldn't stand the idea of how fragile I was. She couldn't bear the thought I could be hurt even worse than my condition had already hurt me. When you turned it around and imagined how you'd feel if it was someone
you
loved in pain, and in danger, it really was seeing things in a different light.

And with that had come a new understanding for what might have made William act the way he did. Supposing, of course, that he did love me.

“Where are your folks?” Eleni asked, watching me ease my fingers into my gorgeous (and horrendously expensive) white leather string-backed gloves. The rotten things showed up every tiny mistake you made, which of course was the whole point of making us wear them. If you wore dark gloves you may as well hang a sign around your neck that said you knew your hands sucked.

It was funny, really. My hands looked like waterlogged pretzels and yes, sometimes they hurt so badly that I couldn't hold Jinx, but everyone knew I had beautiful ‘hands' on a horse. It was no mystery to me why I had good hands when I rode—I'd had no choice but to learn to be light. Maybe that was what it meant, that stupid ‘always a silver lining' saying. Not so stupid after all.

“You better hop on and warm up before your gear check,” Tash said. “If he's a bit high it'll give us time for a lunge before your test.”

“OK,” I said. Tash brought the reins over Jinx's head and checked the girth again, while Eleni grabbed a crate for me to use as a mounting block. Tash held Jinx as I mounted and Eleni gave my boots a quick swipe with another of the cloths she pulled out, like a magician with coloured scarves. She scooped up the crate and stood back.