Make me a Star (The Silver Bridle Book 1) by Caroline Akrill

Author:Caroline Akrill [Akrill, Caroline]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-06-29T16:00:00+00:00

Miss Trubshawe took me firmly by the elbow and placed me next to Pedro’s shoulder.

“I won’t be able to mount,” I told her, “not possibly. Not without reins and stirrups.”

“Rubbish.” Miss Trubshawe took my left hand and slapped it on to the front of the saddle. “Bend your left leg from the knee.” Rather reluctantly I raised my left leg and to my alarm felt my ankle taken in a grip of iron. “On the command of three, spring upwards and throw your right leg over the saddle.”

“I can’t,” I protested, “I won’t be able…” But on the command of three I found myself being hoisted upwards and somehow my leg went over and I found myself sitting on the saddle. It felt very hard and slippery. I did not like it. Pedro, so fat and solid looking from the ground, looked strangely insubstantial from the saddle. There did not seem to be enough of him to ensure my security. All I could see in front of me was a narrow length of neck topped with ungraspable stubble, ending in two sharp ears. Added to this there was the further inconvenience of having nothing to put my feet in and nothing to hold on to.

“I shan’t be able to learn to ride without reins and stirrups,” I said decisively. “It will be impossible.”

Miss Trubshawe ignored me. Instead she commanded Pedro to ‘Walk on!” and Pedro began to circle the enclosure with his jaunty steps, whilst I gripped the front of the saddle, trying desperately not to fall off.

“Relax, Miss Vincent,” trumpeted Miss Trubshawe from the middle of the circle, where she had positioned herself with the lunge rein in one hand and the horrible whip in the other. “Relax your body completely, and allow your natural balance to assert itself!”

I glowered at her. I felt she should already know that relaxation in such new and alarming circumstances was impossible; that telling me to relax was as unrealistic as an air hostess telling passengers not to worry after informing them that one of the engines had caught fire. I had not taken to Miss Trubshawe on sight, and now I liked her even less. I thought her fat and mean and hideous in her silly black outfit, and I was sure she had deprived me of reins and stirrups out of spite, because she disapproved of me and wanted to make riding appear more difficult than it actually was.

But I only had this single lesson in which to learn to ride, and I had to make the best of it. And so I worked at relaxation, remembering how I had been taught at drama school, starting with my jaw, my neck muscles, my shoulders, working downwards through my knee joints, to my ankles, even to my toes. And after a few more circuits I found I was becoming accustomed to the movement of the horse, that there was a rhythm to it, that Pedro’s hooves were set down with a soft thud, in a regular sequence, one, two, three, four.

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