The Auditions Page 6

  “I’m giving you a nine!” she told Georgie.

  No matter what happened–no one could take this day away from her. Georgie Parker had won a place at Blainford Academy.

  Chapter Seven

  As Georgie took her victory lap of honour she spotted her dad and Lily in the stands shouting out her name. “Georgie! Over here!” Lily was hard to miss. She was going berserk and trying to start the crowd in a Mexican wave whilst doing wolf whistles. Dr Parker was waving at her and beaming with pride. He had taken his spectacles off to wipe his eyes and looked quite emotional as she cantered by.

  It was a bittersweet moment. Georgie and Tyro had done it together. But the last time she had spoken with her father, he had been adamant–there wasn’t enough money to take her pony to Blainford.

  On the drive home from Birmingham she had given it one more try, begging her dad to find a wayto afford Tyro’s boarding costs.

  “Georgie,” Dr Parker sighed, “I wish I could. Believe me, I have really tried. Over the past week I’ve been through the finances, including our savings. Your mum left enough in a trust to cover the cost of your fees. And I can afford the airfares and your uniforms. But I’m afraid it’s simply too expensive for you to take Tyro.” Dr Parker paused and then he said in a gentle voice, “I’ve spoken to the bursar at Blainford and she says they have a school horse available if you want it. It’s a much cheaper option. I’ve talked about this with Lucinda and she said that Blainford school horses are actually quite good …”

  “But I don’t want to use Blainford horses! I want to take Tyro with me!”

  “Georgie!” Her dad was exasperated now. “Don’t make this any harder for me. It’s just not possible. I’m afraid you’re going to have to make a choice. If you really want to go to this school, then you’ll have to go alone. Tyro will stay behind.”

  It was unbearable. Georgie wanted so badly to go to Blainford, but Tyro was her best friend, she couldn’timagine being apart from him. If she couldn’t take him with her, then maybe she should give up her place at the academy and stay at home after all.

  At the stables the next day, Lucinda put it in perspective for her. “Tyro is a great pony,” Lucinda said, “but there’ll be other great ponies in your future. And you only get one chance to go to Blainford.”

  “I don’t understand why Dad won’t let me take him—” Georgie began, but Lucinda cut her off.

  “Blainford is expensive, Georgie. My parents put themselves through all sorts to afford the fees and I had to ride a school horse. I didn’t care. I was just grateful for the opportunity–and you should be too.”

  Lucinda was right. Georgie’s dad was already willing to stretch his finances to the limit for her. She was being a brat.

  “If I did decide to go,” Georgie said, biting her lip and fighting not to cry, “and I left Tyro behind, would you look after him for me?”

  Lucinda nodded. “If that’s what you want, I can keep Tyro here. I’d love to have him and I could really use him for lessons in the riding school. He’d be a greatmount for my more experienced pupils.” She paused. “But Tyro is a very talented horse and we have to do what’s best for him as well. If you leave him here he’s going to get bored pretty fast trotting around the arena with mediocre young riders. Tyro’s too good for that. He’s an athlete and he needs a competitive home.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think you should sell him.”

  Georgie was horrified. “I’m not selling Tyro!”

  “Believe me, I’ve been in the same position that you’re in now many times,” Lucinda said kindly. “It’s awful, but it comes with the territory. I’ve had to sell some of my best horses to make ends meet and keep the stable going. It breaks my heart every time, but that’s the lot of the competitive rider. If you really want to make it to the top then sometimes you have to let go of horses that are very special to you.” Lucinda looked over at Tyro, “… even the ones that you love.”

  After she’d mucked out the stables, Georgie stayed late to be with Tyro, grooming him and giving him snuggles. The idea of letting him go seemed unbelievable. But her dad had made the choice quiteclear. If she went to Blainford, Tyro wouldn’t be coming with her.

  “I can’t believe you’re making so much fuss over a horse!” Lily complained. “What about me? You’re quite happy to go away and leave me stuck here in Little Brampton without you!”

  The two girls were walking home after school and Lily was back to her usual form. After being thrilled for Georgie about her success at the grand finals she had spent the past week being extremely grouchy at the idea of her best friend moving to the other side of the world.

  “You can email me,” Georgie countered, “Tyro can’t.”

  Lily kicked a stone beneath her feet. “So when do you leave?” she asked.

  “Next term,” Georgie said. “The new school year starts at the beginning of September and I’ll be in the new intake of first year students.”

  Lily frowned. “How come you’re a first year again?

  You’d be in the third year if you stayed in Little Brampton with me.”

  “It’s different over there,” Georgie said. “It’s a private school. Blainford starts in the eighth grade. You start school as a junior when you’re thirteen and then at fifteen you become a senior …”

  Lily groaned, “Too complicated! Can we stop talking about this now? My brain hurts.”

  They had reached the crossroads, where two narrow lanes bordered by hawthorn hedgerows intersected. To the left, the road led down into the village. To the right, the houses were sparse, spread further apart and surrounded by green fields. Lily’s house was the closest. It was a pale pink two-storey house, surrounded by rose gardens that Lily’s mother tended obsessively. The gardens at Georgie’s house got far less attention, but that had been true even when her mother was alive. Mrs Parker had always been far too busy in the stables to bother with the flowerbeds.

  The Parker house was a grey stone cottage with a grey slate roof and wrought iron gates. The stables out the back were made from the same grey stone. Therewere five stalls, and at one time they had all been full of horses, but now they were empty, apart from the odd visit from Bandit, the Parkers’ cat, stalking for mice.

  Behind the Parkers’ property was a bridle path that ran along the river through the woods and connected to the path that led from Lucinda’s riding school. The woods were dense, but if you rode far enough you reached open countryside again and wonderful views over the green valleys.

  Georgie had never paid much attention to the landscape when she’d hacked out on Tyro in the past, but now that she knew she was leaving, she’d begun noticing just how beautiful it was here. She was developing strange pangs of nostalgia for Little Brampton.

  “Really?” Lily had been surprised when Georgie mentioned this. “Name one thing that you’ll miss.”

  “The pies at Thelma’s bakery,” Georgie told her, “and the cream buns they sell in the school caff. Oh, and baked beans and Marmite–they don’t have them in America.”

  “Have you noticed,” Lily said tartly, “thateverything you’ve listed so far is food?”

  The news that Georgie was leaving to go to boarding school in America was the talk of Little Brampton High School. Suddenly everyone was paying her attention. Lily just about hit the roof when she saw that Julie Jenkins, who sat beside Georgie in maths, had actually written the letters BFF inside a giant pink heart on Georgie’s maths book!

  “Best friends forever?” Lily boggled. “It should say VVA–Very Vague Acquaintance!”

  It was weird. Girls that had never bothered to speak to Georgie before were stopping her in the hallways and telling her how much they’d miss her and imploring Georgie to write them emails and keep in touch. How could they miss her, she wondered, when they had barely noticed she was there in the first place?

  Georgie was beginning to realise that, apart from Lily and Lucinda and her dad, she wouldn’t r
eally miss anyone much in Little Brampton. She had spent her whole life in this village, and yet somehow she had never really felt like she belonged here. It was as if herreal life was somewhere else, waiting for her to arrive so that it could finally begin.

  For the past week she had stuck her head in the sand about what she was going to do with Tyro. But she knew Lucinda was right. He would be bored at the riding school. And yet she couldn’t bear the thought of selling him. Who could possibly understand and love him as much as she did?

  She had said her goodbyes to Lily at the crossroads and was walking alone down the lane when the realisation hit her. She raced straight to the phone when she got in. She checked the list of phone numbers in her diary and then dialled, holding her breath and waiting anxiously until someone picked up at the other end. “Hello?” Georgie said. “It’s Georgie. I’m phoning because I’ve made a decision. I’m selling Tyro.” she hesitated, “and I want you to buy him.”

  Two days later, Georgie stood in Tyro’s stall and watched as the sleek grey Range Rover pulled up outside Lucinda’s stables. At the sight of the emptyhorse trailer being towed behind it her hands subconsciously clasped tighter around Tyro’s halter. When Olivia and Mrs Prescott stepped out of the Range Rover, Georgie stayed in the stall with Tyro. In the end, Lucinda had to come and get her.

  “There you are!” Lucinda gave Georgie a gentle smile. “Have you got him ready?”

  Georgie nodded. She’d been at the stables since seven that morning. She’d groomed the black pony for a solid hour, oiling his hooves and pulling his mane. Then she’d dressed him in his best travelling blanket, a lightweight tartan rug, and Velcroed on his padded floating boots so that he was all ready to be loaded on to the trailer.

  Tyro had been to so many horse shows he knew what this routine meant. He was dressed to go somewhere and now he had an air of anticipation about him. What he didn’t know was that this time there was no show. He would be taking this trip without Georgie and he would not be returning.

  “You’d probably hate it in Lexington, anyway,” Georgie told the black pony as she brushed his prettyface, smoothing down his long forelock. “All the horses will have American accents!”

  Tyro nickered as if he had got the joke and nudged Georgie with his muzzle, looking for carrots in her pockets. They had their own ways of communicating, she and Tyro. In three years, their bond had become so strong.

  “Come on,” Lucinda said gently, “leave him here for a moment and say hi to Olivia and her mum.”

  When Georgie had phoned Olivia two days ago and offered to sell her the black Connemara, Olivia couldn’t quite believe her luck. Now that Molly needed complete rest until next season, she had been left high and dry without a competition horse. Tyro was the perfect solution.

  “Of course I want to buy him!” Olivia told Georgie. “But are you sure you want to sell him?”

  Georgie steeled herself and tried to be strong. “Yes, I’m sure,” she said. She didn’t want to sell Tyro, of course, but it really was the best thing to do. He deserved to have a proper life with an owner who loved him. And she couldn’t think of anyone better tosell her beloved pony to than Olivia.

  Olivia was totally aware of how hard this decision must have been for Georgie. And so, when she arrived with her mother at the stables that morning, she wasn’t expecting the usual cheerful greeting from her friend. When Georgie did finally emerge from the stables, Olivia took one look at her miserable face and rushed up and gave her a huge hug.

  “I’ve got the same stall ready for him at my house,” she told Georgie. “The one that he stayed in when we were training for the final auditions. He’ll feel at home straight away. I’ve told Molly he’s coming too–she’s going to love having a paddock mate.”

  Georgie handed Olivia a piece of paper. “I wrote down everything I could think of, you know, little things that you need to know.” She managed a weak smile. “He likes peppermints. I give them as a treat after training sometimes. And he loves molasses in his hard feed… he’s quite a greedy eater…”

  Olivia listened as Georgie ran through the list of do’s and don’ts. Then Lucinda emerged from the stables leading Tyro and Georgie felt her heart sink. This wasreally it then. This was goodbye.

  “Do you want to be the one to load him on to the trailer, Georgie?” Mrs Prescott asked.

  Georgie took the lead rope with a trembling hand and walked Tyro down the driveway as Olivia and Mrs Prescott dropped the ramp of the trailer. Then she circled Tyro back and walked him up the ramp. The black pony always loaded perfectly and he followed behind her into the trailer and stood calmly as the ramp was raised behind him.

  A few minutes later, when Georgie still hadn’t emerged out of the trailer, Mrs Prescott began to worry and stuck her head in the front door. “Is everything OK in there? Are you having trouble doing up the rope?” she asked. “There’s a steel hook at the back of the hay net to tie him up.”

  “I’m OK,” Georgie replied. She had already tied Tyro up. But she couldn’t come back out of the horse trailer just yet as she needed to stop crying. Taking a deep breath and drying her eyes one last time, she buried her face in Tyro’s mane and hugged the pony hard with her hands tight around his neck.

  “Don’t forget me,” she told the pony breathlessly. “I promise, I won’t forget you.”

  Despite Georgie’s efforts to pull herself together, when she emerged from the trailer everyone could see how upset she was. Mrs Prescott realised that the best thing to do was leave straight away. So Olivia gave Georgie another hasty hug and jumped into the passenger seat. Mrs Prescott shook hands with Lucinda and then came over to Georgie, said goodbye and pressed a folded-over piece of paper into her hand.

  Georgie watched with tears rolling down her cheeks as the Range Rover and the trailer towing Tyro headed down the driveway, past the crumbling stone walls of the riding school, disappearing from sight behind the overgrown hawthorn hedgerows. Then she remembered the piece of paper that Mrs Prescott had handed to her and opened it up. It was a cheque for twenty thousand pounds.

  Dr Parker was stunned when Georgie came home and presented him with the cheque. He had been shockedenough when his daughter told him she was selling the pony, and was even more so when he discovered just how much the Connemara was worth.

  “You can put it towards my fees at Blainford,” Georgie told her father. But he shook his head. “Your fees have been paid–for this year at least,” he told her. “You keep the money. We’ll bank it as a pony fund for the future. I’m sure you’ll want to buy a new horse one day.”

  It had been hard saying goodbye to Tyro, but in the end it was much worse saying goodbye to Lily. Her best friend was in floods of tears as she hugged her at the airport and thrust a last minute present into her hands. It was wrapped in pretty lilac paper with an enormous gold bow.

  “Can I open it now?” Georgie asked.

  Lily sniffled and nodded. Georgie tore the paper open to reveal… a jar of Marmite.

  “You said they didn’t have it in America,” Lily giggled.

  “Thank you!” Georgie gave her a massive hug. “Whenever I eat toast I shall think of you!”

  Lucinda had already given her a gift before they left Little Brampton. It was a new back protector and the note that was attached read: “Wear this for Tara Kelly’s class–no broken bones for you!”

  “Thanks, Lucinda!” Georgie had been thrilled with her gift.

  “You’re the second generation of Parker women to attend Blainford Academy,” Lucinda told her. “I’m very proud of you–and your mother would have been proud too.”

  Georgie had wiped away the tears as Lucinda said this. It had been Ginny Parker’s dream that her daughter would follow in her footsteps and go to Blainford. And now, here Georgie was, about to board the plane!

  Her dad tried so hard, but he didn’t have a clue really. At the airport shop he had bought her books for the plane. “The lady behind the counter said you’d be bound to
like these,” he said hopefully as he passed them over. Georgie could tell straight away by the pink sparkly covers that she would not like them at all. But she smiled and took them anyway. She didn’t want to disappoint her dad.

  At the check-in counter she was feeling all jet set and sophisticated about travelling alone–until the stewardess put a huge red sticker on her bag with the letters UM on it: Unaccompanied Minor. Then she put a great big UM sticker on Georgie’s jumper too!

  “There’s going to be a driver from Blainford to meet you at the other end,” Georgie’s dad told her. He looked tense and worried at the airport gates and when he hugged her goodbye Georgie thought he wasn’t going to let her go. “Call me when you arrive and let me know that you made it safely,” Dr Parker said as he waved her off.

  “I will,” she promised.

  As she boarded the plane, Georgie thought she would feel scared or homesick. But from the moment the engines revved and the plane took off she felt her heart soaring along with it. She would miss Little Brampton, but a part of her couldn’t wait to leave. As the plane rose up in the sky she felt her old life falling away. She was leaving it behind and starting again. At Blainford, she could be herself at last. She could be anyone she wanted to be.

  Chapter Eight

  They call Lexington ‘bluegrass country’ but the grass wasn’t actually blue. It was deep, verdant green. “The best horse country in the world,” Kenny told Georgie as he loaded her bags into his car. Kenny was Blainford Academy’s driver. He had been standing at the airport gates holding a sign with Georgie’s name on it when she got off the plane. Kenny wore a blue baseball cap that said Wildcats on the front in gold letters and he chewed tobacco constantly, which made it even harder to understand his thick Southern accent.

  “This here road we’re on now is called Man O’ War Boulevard,” Kenny told Georgie as they pulled away from the airport terminal. “You heard of Man O’ War, right?” Georgie had to admit that she hadn’t and Kennyshook his head in amazement. “You mean to say you’re here to go to this fancy horse school and you don’t know who Man O’ War was?” Kenny laughed. “He was one of the greatest racehorses of all time.”