Goodbye, Chocolate Charlie. Marga Jonker

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Goodbye, Chocolate Charlie - Marga Jonker

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closest to the arena where the horses and riders practised and trained. It was where the riding horses were stabled, and each blue door had a sign with the horse’s name on it. The breeding mares were usually stabled in “the green block”, closest to the barn, where the doors had been painted a classic dark green.

      Grandpa Solly, André and Luke rushed over to where both the truck and the Land Rover had parked in front of the blue block. Three fashionably dressed girls were getting out of the Landy, along with Luke and Colette’s mom, Elinor.

      Nicky trailed behind the others, silently wishing she’d made more of an effort getting dressed that morning. Her mom had bought her some new clothes just recently – probably with the Stellenbosch girls in mind. Nicky usually wasn’t bothered about clothes. In fact, one of the things she’d loved most about her first term of homeschooling was that she could live in jeans, tackies and floppy jerseys. Sometimes a whole morning of lessons would go by with her still wearing her pyjamas and slippers.

      And here came Colette, in a black-and-white checked miniskirt with frills that bobbed up and down as she moved. She’d teamed it with red stockings, black ankle boots and a long-sleeved white shirt under a short black-leather jacket.

      Colette’s dress sense had changed after she’d hit grade 7. After that, she’d no longer gone around the farm in her riding gear or in the blue overalls and Wellington boots that Nicky and Luke always wore. Instead, she’d started changing outfits three times a day – a different look for every mood. None of her dad’s comments or teasing had done anything to stop that, and now that she was in grade 9 and her second year at boarding school, she always looked chic, even if it was in a slightly overdressed sort of way.

      Nicky tugged self-consciously at her baggy jeans, which were tucked into her big Wellies, regretting that she’d picked her oldest and floppiest jersey to wear that day.

      “Hi, Grandpa.” Colette gave her grandpa a hug and Nicky noticed that she was even wearing make-up.

      “And how is my too-big-for-his-boots brother?” Colette plopped a kiss on Luke’s head and didn’t wait for an answer before turning to André and giving him a big hug. “Hi, André. I hear you’re also taking part in the showjumping competition, on Wild Hero.” Colette managed to make this sound like both a question and a statement as she sidled up to him and hooked her arm through his. “You’re going to have to work hard! Is he even capable of jumping?”

      “Yes, you will be getting a very big shock.” André’s English had left him in the lurch again. “Luke and Jenny have been teaching Hero a thing or two. You’ll see; he’s going to give you a big surprise.”

      Colette dragged André over to where her friends were waiting. In the sunlight her long brown hair revealed honey-coloured highlights. “This is Charni Whitaker,” she said.

      Charni seemed to be in perpetual motion, her hands constantly swirling the ends of a blue-and-purple scarf. The scarf matched her purple knitted top and together they contrasted strikingly with a black miniskirt, black stockings and long black leather boots. Charni extended her hand to greet André. Half hidden under a mop of blonde curls, her blue eyes were like shiny pools of water.

      “Hey, hello,” said André with a shy smile.

      “Er . . . Hi!” Luke waved casually in Charni’s direction.

      “And this is Ateeyah Ammani,” Colette continued. “She’s royalty, by the way.”

      Ateeyah was wearing skinny jeans with a long embroidered cotton shirt in a soft turquoise, with a dark-green silk scarf around her neck. Despite her flat leather pumps, she was a whole head taller than Colette and as tall as André. Her long black hair hung straight and shiny down her back. With her huge, almond-shaped dark-brown eyes, she was breathtakingly beautiful.

      She really does look like royalty, Nicky thought to herself. But surely Colette’s joking?

      “Hi, pleased to meet you … um, should I say Princess Ateeyah?” asked André politely. “No, hang on, I remember now. It’s Maha … rani.” André had certainly learnt a lot since he’d moved to school in Cape Town – these days he was full of surprises. “Maharani Ateeyah,” André continued.

      Nicky and Luke stared open-mouthed at this charming new André.

      “Oh no, I’m just Ateeyah. But thanks anyway.” The beautiful girl smiled graciously.

      “Howzit,” Luke managed to blurt out.

      “Luke and André will be practising for the SAEF trials with us,” Colette told Charni and Ateeyah.

      Colette and her two boarding school friends were planning on spending the first five days of the April holidays at Solitaire, doing their final preparations for the upcoming South African National Dressage and Showjumping competition.

      “Is Jenny back yet?” Colette asked Luke.

      “She’s been back for a week already. She’s going to make us work very hard,” Luke warned her.

      Jenny Scott, Solitaire’s specialist trainer, was known throughout the country for the horse-and-rider finishing courses she ran on the farm. She’d just returned from a trainer’s course held at the world-famous Camelot Riding School outside London.

      André and Luke would also be doing the finishing course with Jenny. André wanted to see if he could get his horse, Wild Hero, trained and finished well enough to qualify for the showjumping competition. The previous year, Luke, Colette and Nicky had all made it into the Western Cape provincial team. Luke, on Super Sam, had been the youngest rider ever to make the team.

      “And this is my cute little cousin, Nicky. I’ve told you guys about her.” Colette sounded like a TV newsreader announcing some dramatic event, making it sound all serious and official: A typhoon has struck Haiti. A hurricane is heading for America. This is Nicky.

      Think of something else . . . Nicky thought to herself.

      “Hello, Nicky. I’m Charni.” Charni said loudly, overpronouncing her words as if Nicky was hard of hearing. As if to make quite sure Nicky understood her, Charni pressed her hand to her own chest.

      “Pleased to meet you, Nicky,” whispered Ateeya, sounding sympathetic and slightly afraid of her.

      Nicky couldn’t help but wonder what her cousin had told her friends. She was beginning to feel like Frankenstein’s monster and suddenly the taunting voice inside her head threatened to start up again. Her throat burnt and her hands were suddenly sweaty.

      “What’s all this hanging around, doing nothing? You’re not at the movies, young ladies!” Uncle Peter came to Nicky’s rescue. “Come, come, let’s get these horses stabled.” He passed Duchess’s halter to Colette. “Take this, Colette.”

      “Oh, allow me to be of service. I’m sure you ladies would first like to go and get fresh,” said André ever so graciously.

      Nicky wanted to tell André that in English it was “freshen up” and that “get fresh” had a whole different meaning entirely, but she found she couldn’t utter a sound.

      “Thanks, André, you’re a real gentleman,” Aunty Elinor said, smiling. “Girls, go and unpack your stuff and change into your riding gear. And I’m sure you must be hungry. My husband is not as scary as he’s trying to sound.”

      “Jenny

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