The difficult summer, p.9
The Difficult Summer, page 9
For the second time that day Phoenix jumped beautifully, clearing the natural fences, and some of the slightly higher show jumps, with impressive ease. He was not even sweating as Bobby walked him back to his owners. Isabel looked delighted, and Mr. and Mrs. Goldman were smiling.
“Well, that certainly seems to be an improvement,” said Mr. Goldman, as Bobby stopped Phoenix in front of them. “How long do you think it will be before Isabel can ride him?”
“I don’t think it will be long,” replied Bobby. “He’s lost most of his fear of his mouth now, and in a few weeks he should be quite happy with a change of riders.”
“Good.” Mr. Goldman beamed at his daughter. “So you’ll soon be at the White City, eh, Isabel?”
Isabel laughed happily, and patted her horse. Mrs. Goldman was staring across the paddock in the direction of the riding club members, who were now riding across the field.
“Isn’t that Inga Jacobs?” she asked her daughter.
“Yes. She and her riding club use the paddock to school in,” explained Bobby, dismounting.
“I used to ride with them,” said Isabel. “I suppose I’m still a member really. I only need to pay my subscription again to ride there. But Selina wasn’t good enough for the team, and they didn’t take much interest in anything but entering inter-club competitions, and so I dropped out.”
“I see.” Bobby patted Phoenix, and there was a short pause while the Goldmans gazed at him. Bobby wondered about mentioning the saddle, but thought better of it. Now was not the moment to make any complaints of that kind. It was better to wait until Isabel came nearer to riding Phoenix herself. Mrs. Goldman said, “Well, thank you very much for letting us see him ridden, Miss Morton. You’ll let us know when you consider him ready for Isabel to ride, won’t you?’
“I will,” promised Bobby. “And I don’t think it will be too long now.”
The Goldmans gave Phoenix a last pat, and vanished in the direction of their car. Bobby unsaddled Phoenix, and the Abbington and District Riding Club started their schooling session.
There was no late ride that evening, and Bobby was about to go home when Inga Jacobs rode into the yard on her bay, who was sweating slightly.
“We’ve just finished,” she told Bobby. “Is it all right if we come again on Thursday?”
Bobby agreed that it was, and Inga said, “You did say that the chestnut belonged to Isabel Goldman, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” agreed Bobby. “Why?”
“I was just wondering,” replied Inga. “Why doesn’t she ride him herself?”
“Well, actually we’re re-schooling him,” replied Bobby. “He was well schooled at some time, but he’s got rather difficult, and we’ve had to start pretty well from the beginning again. But he’s going much better now.”
“He looked all right to me,” said Inga. “Well, I’d better be going. Goodbye, and thank you for the loan of the paddock.”
She rode away to join her friends, and Bobby turned back to lock the tack room door, wondering just what had made Inga so interested in Isabel’s horse.
Mrs. Vauxhall’s vet came the following morning to examine June. Heath held her while he examined legs, teeth, eyes, and heart, trotted her up the yard for him, and then galloped her round the field to test her wind and her heart again. When the examination was finished and the mare back in her box the vet measured her, and then asked a few questions about her name and breeding before congratulating them on her good condition and perfect soundness. Sadly, the two girls watched his shining Hillman van turn out of the yard. If only he could have found something, something very slight, wrong with June to prevent Mrs. Vauxhall buying her. But that was a selfish attitude, when the money would be such a help to Guy and the stables. Anyway, there was nothing that they could do now. It would only be a matter of days, at the most, before June left Bracken for good.
Mrs. Vauxhall telephoned that afternoon, to say that the vet was perfectly satisfied that June was sound, and that she would send a box for the mare the following morning, and would post the cheque at once. Heath was rather quiet for the rest of the afternoon, though she did not mention June’s going again, but she avoided the mare’s box, letting Bobby water and feed her, and give her a fresh hay net. Instead, Heath made a fuss of Silver Fountain, riding him in the paddock for an hour, and then grooming him really thoroughly, until he looked like a little horse of silver, needing only a stand to turn him into a cold, frozen statue, instead of a warm, lively, flesh and blood pony.
They had a late ride that evening of rather advanced pupils, and Bobby stayed to help Heath with them, instead of going on home. They had finished supper, and were sitting in the quiet lounge reading when the telephone rang. Bobby answered, and found herself speaking to Isabel Goldman.
“It’s about me riding Phoenix,” she said, and Bobby thought that she sounded excited. “Do you think I could possibly try him myself tomorrow? You see, Inga Jacobs telephoned me this afternoon, and said that she’d seen you riding Phoenix yesterday, and heard that he belonged to me. She’s desperately trying to find a third member for the team, Dora and Frecks usually have to be in it, but Frecks is rather slow, and when she saw Phoenix, and knowing that I used to be a member, she thought that we would be far better.” She stopped for breath, and Bobby said, “What exactly is it that she wants you to go in for?”
“It’s a miniature combined training event,” replied Isabel. “Dressage test Z, cross-country, and show jumping, followed by some gymkhana events. It’s being held on a Sunday, in just over a fortnight’s time.”
“I don’t know that Phoenix is really ready for anything like that,” said Bobby slowly. Privately she did not think that there was much wrong with the horse’s manners, with her, at least. But she was not quite sure what would happen in an affair like that, with Isabel in the saddle.
“Couldn’t I just try riding him?” asked Isabel. “If he plays up I shall just have to tell Inga I can’t do it, but I would love to, and Selina isn’t good enough. She’s hopeless with ditches and things, they terrify her.”
“You could bring her over here for some schooling before the event,” suggested Bobby.
“I’ve tried schooling her,” replied Isabel. “It’s no use. She won’t even jump ditches out hunting, and she doesn’t like timber of any kind. I think she must have had a bad fall before I had her. Anyway, Inga doesn’t want Selina, she never did when I rode regularly with them. It’s Phoenix she wants.”
Bobby realised that she would have to give in. After all, Phoenix was Isabel’s horse, and he was going calmly enough at present. The only thing to do was let Isabel try him, and see what happened.
“All right then.” She tried to remember when she had a free hour the following day. “Can you come at two o’clock?”
“Yes. Thank you very much Miss Morton.” Isabel sounded delighted. “I do hope I can manage him.”
“So do I,” agreed Bobby. “I’ll see you at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon then.”
“Thank you so much. Goodbye Miss Morton.” Isabel rang off, and Bobby went thoughtfully back into the lounge to tell Heath.
6
BOBBY rode Phoenix herself the following morning, taking him for her favourite ride, through the woods and along the hills above Bracken. It was another fine day, but the brisk breeze prevented it from being uncomfortably hot, and Phoenix was very full of himself. Bobby let the powerful chestnut enjoy himself, cantering on over the smooth, sweet-scented turf, and jumping any logs, ditches, and little fences that they found. Phoenix was Bobby’s idea of the perfect ride, very like her own Shelta in many ways, with his tremendous eagerness about jumping, and his love of action. Up here on the hills, however, she found him quite a handful, as she still had to be very careful with his mouth, and they returned more soberly to Bracken along the paths between the cornfields. By the time she turned into the field Phoenix had settled down again, and was walking out with his great, swinging stride, which was one of the things about him that Bobby liked so much.
There was a sleek Vincent horse box in the yard when she dismounted outside the boxes, and Heath was just leading June, who wore a checked summer sheet, blue leg and tail bandages, and her leather head collar, along the causeway to the yard. Bobby pushed Phoenix into his box, and went to watch June Evening loaded. Heath tied the bay mare to a ring in the side of one of the three padded stalls, gave her a last, carefully casual pat, and jumped down from the passenger compartment as the driver raised the ramp.
“Travels all right, does she?” he asked the girls.
“Yes. She’s used to it,” replied Heath.
“Good. I’ll be getting along then. Goodbye.” The man went round to the cab, and started the engine. A few moments later the box was swaying slowly down the drive. June whinnied as it turned the corner, and then she was gone. The stables suddenly seemed horribly empty as the girls walked back along the causeway.
“Oh well, perhaps we’ll get something sensible in her place,” said Heath, as they reached the boxes. “We can certainly do with it. Goose had William off again this morning, in the school, shying at the doors.”
Bobby took the hint, and did not mention June again, but began to talk about Phoenix’s behaviour on the hills, and Heath went to get Nobby ready for the half-hour at eleven-thirty. June was not mentioned again that morning, though as they walked up to the house for lunch Heath did say, “I hope she’s arrived safely, not that there’s any reason why she shouldn’t have done, of course.” And that, as far as anyone who did not know her could have told, was the last time she thought of June that day.
Bobby had groomed Phoenix thoroughly after returning from her ride that morning, and when the Goldmans’ station wagon turned into the yard at two o’clock he looked like a statue in beaten copper. Mrs. Goldman was driving the car, rather to Bobby’s dismay. She had not bargained for Isabel’s mother coming to watch, and as they walked towards her along the cinder causeway she prayed that Phoenix would behave with Isabel on his back. Isabel was just as thrilled with the look of her horse this time as she had been on Monday, and Bobby hoped that she would still be thrilled when her ride was over.
She left the Goldmans admiring Phoenix, and fetched his tack. Isabel again complimented Bobby on the change in Phoenix’s stable manners, but in spite of that, when Bobby brought him out, she stepped back and suggested that the other girl rode him first, “Just to give me another chance to see how I’m to ride him.”
Bobby agreed, and Phoenix stood motionless with his crest arched and ears pricked while she mounted. Then, at a light touch from her legs, he walked calmly forward, flicking an ear back to listen for orders.
His behaviour was impeccable, and Isabel was smiling when Bobby rode him back to her.
“Would you like to try him now?” she asked his owner.
“Yes,” agreed Isabel. “But perhaps I’d better ride him inside the school first.”
Bobby agreed, and Isabel opened the sliding doors for Bobby to enter. Mrs. Goldman went round to the little door which opened on to the low balcony at the far end, and Bobby trotted and cantered Phoenix round twice on either rein before bringing him into the centre, dismounting, and handing the reins to Isabel, who did not look quite so happy now that she was actually about to mount her horse.
“Let him have a fairly loose rein, and just walk and jog him round until you get used to each other,” Bobby advised her.
Isabel agreed rather nervously, and mounted. Phoenix stood like a rock, flicking one ear back a little anxiously as she gathered up the reins. Then Isabel gave him the aid to walk forward, and he obeyed like a lamb. They moved out to the boards, and Isabel began to ride him round on the right rein. The chestnut horse was a little tense, but slowly, as Isabel failed to do anything to upset him, he began to relax. Later they trotted, then cantered, and still Phoenix went as quietly as Selina. Isabel made him back, perform shoulder in and shoulder out, and some turns, and then Bobby put up two low poles for them, which Phoenix negotiated without trouble, although Isabel clung on to the mane, and let him dash round the school after jumping them before she regained control. When Phoenix was walking sensibly again Bobby explained to Isabel that she must steady him immediately after landing, and not let him go on fast again until he had come back to her, and was controllable once more.
“Otherwise you’ll never be able to steady him for the next fence,” Bobby warned her. “And if the cross-country fences are fixed he’s liable to take one by the roots, and you’ll have a nasty fall.”
Isabel nodded, and tried the poles again, this time managing to check Phoenix a little afterwards, although Bobby was still not satisfied. Before she would let Isabel take her horse outside the school Bobby made them jump the poles twice more, until Isabel could bring her horse straight back to a collected canter a stride after landing. All the time Bobby was very conscious of Mrs. Goldman’s gaze fixed on her, and she dreaded something going wrong at the last moment, as she opened the heavy doors for Isabel to ride Phoenix out into the paddock.
Outside Phoenix woke up a little, and Bobby had a few nasty moments as he jogged and snatched at the bit, trying to find out how far he could go with his new rider. But with Bobby giving instructions Isabel managed to be firm with him, and persuade him to behave properly without hanging on to his head or fighting him, the two things which he would not stand, though she complained that using her legs so hard to keep him balanced made them ache madly.
“That shows you’re using them properly then,” Bobby told her, as they crossed the field to the three low brush fences on the far side.
Jumping these was not a success. Isabel hung on to the mane again, and Phoenix, finding his reins loose and his rider’s weight right forward, took off round the field. Isabel managed to stop him, after several leaps which shook her dangerously loose in the saddle, looking rather scared. Bobby attempted to explain what had gone wrong, and Isabel tried again, with only slightly more successful results. She was so busy staying on during the actual jump that she forgot all about keeping her horse balanced, and maintaining contact with his mouth, until about three strides after landing, by which time Phoenix, deciding that this was grand fun, was away down the field with his nose in the air, and Isabel, seeing the next fence coming, just hung on and hoped for the best.
“If you let him go at that speed over a fixed set of upright poles he’ll land on his nose,” Bobby warned Isabel, when the horse finally stopped beside her. “You’re just a passenger at present, you must ride him all the time, whether he’s jumping or walking. It’s no use letting him jump at a flat out gallop with his reins flapping on his neck. I suppose you might, through sheer luck and Phoenix’s common sense, get round the cross-country course safely, and with a wonderful time, but you most certainly won’t get round a show jumping course like that, and it’s no use trying to jump him fast until you’ve learned to control him, and that means starting by jumping from a trot, and a steady canter. You see, if he’s just galloping wildly, unbalanced, with his nose in the air, he can’t possibly judge his take off properly for a stiff, fixed fence, and anyway, he wouldn’t have the impulsion left to clear it, he’d jump flat, and very probably hit it, hard. You’ve got to keep him balanced and calm, to do that you must push him into his bridle the whole time with your legs, keep your hands still, and never lose contact with his mouth for a moment, either jumping, or on the flat, unless you’re supposed to be doing a loose rein walk or something. On most horses it wouldn’t matter so much, but Phoenix is a bit difficult, and you’ve got to concentrate on him. On the flat you don’t do too badly, but I’m afraid at present your jumping is impossible. You’d better try the grid, that’ll steady him, and you can think about keeping him balanced.”
They tried the grid. Phoenix had jumped it many times with Bobby, and he was expert at trotting or cantering over the row of low poles, going with ears pricked and head lowered, to see what was coming next. Isabel looked secure enough. She was concentrating on riding her horse properly, now that there was nothing to scare her, or excite him, and Bobby realised that it was definitely anxiety and not insecurity that made her hold the mane over the larger fences, and made her riding go to pieces so completely. She decided to end the lesson for that day, and the next time Isabel came she would get her jumping a series of low fences in the school, with plenty of turning in between them, so that she would have to control her horse all the time. If only they had more time. Both horse and rider were only in need of practice and training, but sixteen days was nothing, when the owner was as nervous as Isabel, and the horse as impetuous as Phoenix. But there was one thing that should help. A good saddle. Bobby suggested a change to Isabel, who, after some hesitation, as she seemed to feel that a strange saddle might make things worse, agreed to try Guy’s Sowter for her next lesson.
Phoenix was stabled with Isabel’s help, and Bobby booked her another lesson for the following afternoon.
“You do think that Isabel will be able to manage Phoenix in the competition, do you?” asked Mrs. Goldman, as Bobby closed the day book.
“Well, she should be able to,” replied Bobby, slightly hesitantly. “But it’s early to say for sure yet. It depends how long it takes her to get used to him.”
“I do hope she will be ready,” said Mrs. Goldman. “It would be such a shame if Isabel had to miss the competition, and really, Selina is not good enough.”
“I’ll certainly have her ready for it if I possibly can,” Bobby promised. “I’m sure they only need practice together.”
The Goldmans were about to leave when Bobby realised that she did not know where the competition was to be held. If she knew it might give her some idea of what Isabel and Phoenix would have to contend with.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Isabel sounded surprised. “It’s in London. The Kensington Riding Club is organising it, in Kensington Gardens.” And before Bobby had time to recover the station wagon was turning out of the yard.
