I'd Rather Not Gallop by Caroline Akrill

Author:Caroline Akrill [Akrill, Caroline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jane Badger Books

10 – Rusty

We went to the Newark and Nottinghamshire County Show on Friday. Friday is Pony Judging day. We took Jet Flight; we took the yearling, and more important, we took the Small Hunter. It was to be our debut.

All the way to the show in the horse box I shivered and shook. I put on extra clothes. No one else thought it was cold. ‘Don’t worry,’ they said. ‘It’s just a touch of ’flu.’

‘I won’t be able to ride,’ I said, ‘I’m ill.’

‘You’ll ride,’ they said. ‘We will fill you with antibiotics.’

‘It won’t do any good,’ I said, ‘I feel terrible.’

‘It’s only fright,’ Becky said. ‘It will go away as soon as you go into the ring.’

‘I shall be dead by then,’ I said. The Hunter Classes were not until the following day.

Simon dropped his packet of chewing gum. He tried to retrieve it by groping about under his seat, still holding the steering wheel. Some of his necklaces caught on the indicator lever. ‘Grief!’ he cried. ‘I’m strangled!’

‘Do be careful, Simon,’ Sarah said. ‘You almost knocked that man off his bicycle!’

‘Yes,’ Becky said. ‘Keep your eyes on the road. Or you will kill us all.’

As soon as we arrived at Newark, we led the pony, the youngster and the Small Hunter down to their temporary stabling. Our boxes were three at the end of a row. Our names were pinned on to the doors. Inside each stable was a bale of straw. Becky and I held the livestock while Simon and Sarah bedded down the boxes. Pony youngstock were being judged in one of the smaller rings nearby. Show-Jumping was in progress in the main ring. We could tell by the commentary and the density of the crowd around the edge. The grandstand was packed. For most people, Newark is the first real show of the season.

We stabled our exhibits. The Small Hunter appeared to take it all in his stride. He sniffed happily round the timber loose box and peered at his neighbours. He pawed up the straw and began to nibble the grass underneath.

The youngster let out a couple of kicks at the back of the stable. He snorted, wondering if it was worth trying to jump out. Then he decided to settle down to eating the straw.

‘I’ll get him some hay,’ Simon said. ‘Or he will be like a barrage balloon when it is time for his class.’ Mrs Carter appeared. ‘Adrian is through to the jump-off,’ she said. ‘The suspense is killing me. I can’t bear to watch.’ She looked anxiously over towards the collecting ring where several competitors were waiting their turn to jump. ‘On the other hand,’ she said. ‘I can’t bear not to,’ and she wandered off again, towards the main arena looking pale.

Sarah gazed after her. ‘I know the feeling,’ she said.

We hayed and fed the ponies and the Small Hunter. We topped up their water buckets from the tap at the end of the row of stables. We changed their blankets and rugs and settled them in.

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