Blaze and the Dark Rider. Stacy Gregg
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“Who is she?” Kate wondered out loud.
“Hmmphh?” Natasha Tucker overheard her. “Oh her? That’s Morgan. She’s just started going to my school.”
Natasha didn’t go to Chevalier Point High with Issie and the others. She went to Kingswood, a private school on the other side of town.
“Her mummy used to be frightfully famous in horse circles, apparently—she was a really good rider back in the day. Now what’s their name again?” Natasha paused. “Oh yes, Chatswood-Smith. Morgan Chatswood-Smith. Her mum’s name is—”
“Araminta Chatswood-Smith!” Issie squeaked. “I know her! She was a totally amazing showjumper. I have all of her books.”
“Ah, all here then?” Avery said as he emerged out of the clubroom and bounded down the stairs. “Have you all introduced yourself to our new girl Morgan?” He walked over to the girl on the jet black pony and gave the pony a firm pat on his glossy neck.
“Morgan’s mother and I used to be great rivals when we were riding.” He smiled at her. “Welcome to Chevalier Point Pony Club, Morgan. I’m sure talent runs in the family.”
Morgan sat looking at Avery blankly. Eventually she managed to give him a weak smile in return.
“Good, good,” Avery said, turning to the rest of the riders. “Let’s get on with it then, shall we?”
Avery had set up four rows of poles for the bending so the riders were divided into two heats. After all the riders had been given a quick practice run through the poles, Stella, Kate, Pip and Catherine were the first ones to line up at the start line. “On your marks…get set…go!!” Avery shouted.
The horses leapt forward on Avery’s word and began to weave in a slalom through the four rows of bending poles. Stella was bent low over Coco’s neck as the chocolate mare zipped through her poles at a swift canter. She turned the last pole well ahead of the rest of the riders and breezed home easily in the lead across the finish line.
Kate was not so lucky with Toby who reached the last pole and, instead of turning, kept right on cantering. “Toby!” Kate hauled on his left rein to try and get him to circle. By the time she had got the big bay’s attention and manoeuvred him around, even Catherine on little Nemo had beaten her and was trotting gaily through the last pole and over the finish line.
“Next riders up!” Avery called. Issie, Morgan, Annabel and Natasha lined up at their poles.
“On your marks…” Avery began his countdown. But Issie was still trying to calm Blaze down. The mare was so excited, she couldn’t stay still. She snorted and fretted and Issie was forced to keep turning her in tight circles to stop her bolting over the line and being disqualified.
“Get set…” Avery continued.
“Wait!” Issie squawked. She wasn’t “set” at all—her reins were in a tangle and her arms hurt from holding Blaze back.
She needed to turn the chestnut mare back in time to face the starting line but Avery hadn’t noticed that she was struggling. “Go!” he shouted.
Blaze leapt forward—in completely the wrong direction!
By the time Issie had turned Blaze around, the other riders were halfway down the row of bending poles. Issie tried to steer her through the poles but Blaze kept yanking the reins out of Issie’s fingers; she was far too excited to pay attention. Blaze had missed two poles before Issie had the chance to haul her up and go back again. By the time Issie finally got her under control the others had already crossed the finish line. She was dead last.
The only thing that cheered Issie up was the fact that Natasha hadn’t won either—Annabel had taken out the heat on Eddie.
Of course that didn’t stop Natasha being a know-it-all. “Hey Isadora, I think you’re going in the wrong direction. The bending poles are that way!” she needled Issie as she rode Goldrush past.
Issie watched as Natasha pulled up next to Morgan. Natasha leant over and whispered something to Morgan and then began to giggle.
“Oh no. I think the new girl is friends with Natasha!” Issie groaned to Stella.
“It’s not her fault. She’s new. Wait until she gets to know her!” Stella rolled her eyes and giggled.
The flag races went a little better than the bending. Stella won her heat again, this time narrowly beating Morgan, who rode like a daredevil but still couldn’t catch up with Coco, who was brilliant at stopping dead at each pole and then breaking into a gallop to deliver the flags back to the box.
Issie and Blaze managed their heat well too—no starting hiccups this time. And when Natasha dropped a flag, Issie raced into the lead and this time she beat her across the line.
“Lunch break!” Avery boomed at them all. “Go and tie your horses up—you’ve got an hour off and then you’re doing rider on the flat and jumping this afternoon!”
Issie’s Mum and Dan’s mother, Mrs Halliday, were arranging the lunch on tartan picnic rugs as the riders pulled up their mounts.
“I am totally starving!” Stella said, casting her eyes over the spread. She could see asparagus rolls, little miniature meat pies, club sandwiches, jam roll, chocolate cake and strawberry tarts, all lined up in Tupperware containers on the rug, with a big thermos of tea for the parents and apple juice for the riders.
“You boys! Put that down and wait until the girls have tied their horses up too,” Mrs Halliday said firmly to Dan and Ben, who had already thrown themselves down on the picnic rug and had their hands on the meat pies.
Dan gave his Mum a big grin and bit into the pie. “Too late!” he said with his mouth full. “Better tell them to hurry up!” The food was gone in no time flat.
“Can we get ice creams, Mum? It’s so hot today,” Issie begged.
“Yes! Ice creams!” the others agreed, leaping up off the rug and heading for the clubroom.
“I wonder if they’ll have this morning’s results posted up yet?” Dan said. He and Ben were both feeling confident that their skill in the showjumping ring would earn them both a place in the Chevalier Point team.
“Kismit is jumping brilliantly at the moment.” Dan grinned.
Ben nodded in agreement. “We’ve both been having extra lessons lately with Iggy Dalrymple. He’s really helped my technique.”
They stepped up to the door of the clubrooms now, and heard a woman’s voice inside. She sounded upset. “What went wrong?” she was saying. “These results are dreadful!”
“I don’t know, Mum. I had a bad start in the bending and then Jack was nappy in the flag race, I guess…” a girl’s voice responded.