Читать книгу Riding Star - Stacy Gregg, Stacy Gregg - Страница 7

Chapter Three

“Welcome back,” Riley said, holding out the white lilies to her.

Georgie had never been given flowers before – apart from the time her dad bought her a pot plant when she was in hospital having her tonsils out, but that didn’t really count. The lilies had a deep, musky perfume. Snow was falling on the petals. They were still standing there on the doorstep and no one was saying anything.

“Hey,” Riley broke the silence. “I’m sorry that I never called you after the Formal. I got really busy with the horses and—”

“I can’t ask you in,” Georgie blurted out. “We’re not allowed to have boys in the boarding house without a permission note. Besides, I have to get changed for dinner.”

They stood there for another moment or two, and then Riley raked a hand uneasily through his hair and grabbed his keys out of his coat pocket. “It’s OK,” he said, looking back over his shoulder at the pick-up truck. “I’ve gotta go anyway. I promised Uncle Kenny I’d bring the truck back straight away and I’ve been waiting here a while now.”

He smiled at Georgie. “I just wanted to say hi, you know, and that…” he hesitated, “I’ve missed you while you were away.”

Then he looked embarrassed. “Anyway,” he began, backing down the stairs towards the truck, “I better go now.”

He was halfway back down the path when Georgie called after him, “Riley, wait!”

He turned round. “Yeah?” “Thanks for the flowers. They’re really beautiful.” Riley smiled. “I’ll give you a call, OK?”

He got in the pick-up, slammed the door and drove off. Georgie watched the tail-lights disappear into the dark and then went inside. The clock on the wall said six-fifteen, which meant that all the boarders would be in their rooms getting ready for dinner. The first-year boarders all lived downstairs, and each of them shared a room with one other girl. Georgie had been sharing with Alice Dupree ever since Alice took the liberty of swapping her name for Daisy King’s on their first day of school.

Alice was lying on her bed when Georgie came in. She was studying a riding manual and had it open to a page about fitting martingales.

“Nice lilies,” she said without looking up from her book. “Riley must have spent a fortune on them.”

“How did you know they were from Riley?” Georgie asked.

“Because he’s been sitting out there in that pick-up truck for the past two hours waiting for you,” Alice said.

Georgie was shocked. “He’s been out there all that time?”

“I took him a cup of hot chocolate about an hour ago,” Alice said. “He looked really cold.”

Georgie had been so shocked to have Riley just turn up on the doorstep like that, she hadn’t known how to deal with him at all. He’d turned up out of the blue at the School Formal too. Didn’t he know how to use a phone?

“Why are you so late, anyway?” Alice asked. “School finished ages ago. Were you having so much fun studying dressage that you couldn’t drag yourself away?”

Georgie shook her head. “I went for a hack after class. And then I saw James.”

Alice frowned. “You mean Riley?”

“No. I saw James first. I took Belle out on the bridle paths behind the stables and I ran into James. And we… talked.”

Alice looked suspicious. “When you say that you ‘talked’,” she did air quotes round the word, “does that actually mean you really talked or do you mean… you know…”

Georgie’s eyes went wide. “No, Alice! I have not been out on a snog-a-thon with James Kirkwood!”

“Well, what about Riley then?” Alice asked.

Georgie shook her head. “There was no kissing! We hardly even spoke. I took the flowers and then I kind of ran. It was pretty bad. I was confused.”

“But you’re dating Riley, right?” Alice said. “I thought everything was all on with you two after the School Formal?”

Georgie flopped face-down on the bed and groaned. “Is it? I don’t know. I thought it was, but then he never even called me. I spent all the holidays wondering what was going on and thinking that maybe it was over and now he turns up with flowers.”

“Don’t complain. At least someone is buying you flowers,” Alice replied. “I’m giving up on Cam.”

“Really?” Georgie said. “I thought you guys were getting on really well.”

“We do get on well,” Alice said. “It’s just… he doesn’t think of me, you know, like that. I’m not some bombshell like Kennedy Kirkwood.”

“That’s not true,” Georgie said. “It is!” Alice insisted. “Cameron stares at her like a puppy looking at a bag of Purina. He doesn’t even notice me.”

“You just need to get his attention. You’ve got to do something to make him notice you.”

There was a knock at the door and Emily stuck her head in.

“Are you guys coming to dinner or what? We’ve been waiting for you for ages!”

*

When Georgie had first arrived at Blainford last September the walk to the dining hall each evening hadn’t been a big deal. It had been early autumn and the stroll up the tree-lined driveway had been kind of fun.

Now winter had set in and the five hundred metres from their boarding house to the main buildings of the school seemed like an intrepid hike up the Himalayas. It was freezing cold, and the girls were bundled up in school scarves, jerseys and blazers over their winter uniform of a navy wool pinafore and long black wool tights.

“I think we should be allowed to layer our jods underneath our pinafores in winter,” Alice said, teeth chattering with cold as they walked round the quad to the door of the dining hall.

“We could wear them underneath our tights,” Emily suggested. “Maybe no one would notice.”

When they reached the dining-room doors they were relieved to see that the queue didn’t stretch all the way outside and they were able to go straight indoors where it was warm. The dining room was one of the oldest buildings in the school. Outside, it was red Georgian brick, like the other buildings that surrounded the quad. Inside, the walls were dark-wood panelled, and hung with photos of famous riders who had once attended the academy. According to the blackboard menu, tonight’s dinner was ‘Meatloaf a la Betty-Lou’.

Alice wrinkled up her nose. “If the menu says meatloaf then why does it smell like fish?”

Daisy King shrugged. “I suppose it’s better than fish smelling like meatloaf.”

The girls took their loaded trays and stood in the centre of the dining hall, waiting for Georgie to have her food dished up. At the far side of the room, sitting at their usual table, were the rest of the eventing gang – Alex and Cameron and Matt and Nicholas. The girls began to walk over to join them when Georgie heard her name being called.

“Georgie, we’re here!”

Georgie saw Isabel Weiss waving at her, beckoning her over. Isabel was sitting with Mitty and Reina.

“Come and sit with us,” Isabel called out to her cheerfully.

Georgie didn’t know what to do. Daisy, Alice and Emily had all stopped and were watching her.

“Georgie?” Alice said. “What’s going on?”

Georgie looked at the eager faces of the Dressage Set.

“Don’t be silly,” Alice muttered to Georgie. “You don’t have to sit with them! It doesn’t make any difference if you’re not in the eventing class any more. You can still sit with us.”

Georgie shook her head. “I really should go and say hi,” she said, gesturing towards the dressages. “I’ll catch up with you guys later back at the house, OK?”

Alice looked upset. “OK, whatever.”

The dressage girls moved over to make room for their newest member.

“Hi, Georgie!” Mitty grinned at her as she sat down. “Fun lesson today, huh?”

“Ummm, yeah,” Georgie said, her voice tinged with sarcasm. “All that stuff with the walking? Awesome.”

No one else at the table laughed and Georgie realised that Mitty was quite serious.

“It will take you a while to get used to dressage class,” Isabel said. “Bettina says this is because cross-country ruins your position.”

Mitty agreed. “It’s true. I was only in Tara’s class for one term and it’s played havoc with my hands!” She looked deeply upset.

“I don’t know… I think my hands are OK,” Georgie protested weakly.

Reina Romero pushed her dinner tray aside decisively and looked at Georgie. “We were thinking that we should all get together for a ride after school. Maybe tomorrow?”

“That sounds great,” Georgie said. “I took Belle out for a hack today – the bridle paths are a bit frozen over, but we had a good canter up the hill behind the school. Belle took these really big canter strides through the snow – it was brilliant. We could go for a ride up there?”

“No,” Reina was adamant. “I do not think so. Let us meet at the arena and we can do some schooling.”

“It’s not that cold outside,” Georgie insisted. “If you wear a puffer jacket and gloves it’s fine, honest.”

Reina remained stony-faced. “I only ride Alba Clemante in the arena.” Alba Clemante was Reina’s horse, a grey Andalusian that had been bred from extremely rare dressage bloodlines.

“Oh,” Georgie was taken aback. “Well, maybe when the snow has thawed a bit we could go for a ride up into the hills one weekend.”

“Georgie,” Isabel said, adopting a schoolteacher-ish tone, “we don’t really like to hack the horses out. They are dressage horses. Back in Germany, I only ever rode in the arena.”

“You never hack out?” Georgie was amazed. “You mean you just ride around in the dressage ring the whole time?”

Mitty shrugged. “It is too risky for injuries otherwise. Even with boots on, you might damage their legs. Besides, the horses need regular schooling.”

“Horses get bored in the arena,” Georgie countered. “They need a break from their work – just like we do.”

“Dressage horses need discipline,” Reina said flatly.

“And I need a fruit juice,” Georgie sighed, admitting defeat and getting up from the table. “Does anyone else want one?”

Georgie sat back down with her juice and zoned out the conversation around her. She stared over at the eventing table where it looked like Cameron had constructed a puissance course on his dinner plate, building a wall out of mashed potato and carrot sticks, which Alex was pretending to jump with a bread roll while Emily, Daisy and Alice cheered him on.

“Georgie?” Reina’s voice jolted her back to reality and she realised that the girls were standing up with their dinner trays, waiting for her so that they could leave. She stood and picked up her tray.

“So shall we meet at the arena for that ride tomorrow after school?” Isabel said.

“Umm,” Georgie hesitated, “I just remembered I have a thing… to do tomorrow after school. Maybe some other time?”

*

The teachers’ staff room was in the main building of the college, just above the Great Hall. It was the end of the day and the room was filled with the sound of cups and saucers jingling as teachers gathered for afternoon tea. Georgie stood anxiously in the doorway, peering in. Eventually her loitering caught the attention of the school bursar, Mrs Dubois, who put down her teacup and came over to see what she was up to.

Mrs Dubois was a Lexington native. She had a swept-back bouffant of blue-grey hair and wore a lilac suit with a matching frill-fronted blouse.

“Is there something I can help you with, Miss Parker?” she asked.

“I’m looking for Tara Kelly,” Georgie replied.

“She’s not here,” Mrs Dubois said. Then she saw the pained expression on Georgie’s face. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I want to talk to her about changing classes,” Georgie said.

Mrs Dubois frowned. “You’ve only just changed classes, Miss Parker.”

“I know,” Georgie said. “I want to change back. I want to be in the cross-country class again.”

Mrs Dubois’ brow furrowed deeper. “I doubt very much that Tara will change her mind, but you’ll find her down at the stables.”

Georgie knew that Mrs Dubois was right. There was no reason why Tara would take her back. But she couldn’t bear another day of walking around feeling like a loser in Bettina Schmidt’s dressage lessons. She had to try and get Tara to change her mind.

She found Tara in the tack room, fastidiously checking the girth straps and the stirrup leathers on the cross-country saddles.

“Unbelievable!” Tara said, holding up a pair of brown stirrup leathers that she had just taken off a flat-seat saddle on the rack in front of her. “Look at these! The stitching is frayed! It’s so dangerous. Imagine riding at top speed on the course and that last stitch suddenly gives way! Deadly!”

She put the leathers aside and turned her attention to her former pupil.

“How are you, Georgie? Did you have a good Christmas break in Little Brampton?”

Georgie nodded. “It snowed a lot, but I managed to get some riding in with Lucinda.”

“I hope you gave her my regards,” Tara said.

Tara Kelly and Lucinda Milwood had been at school together at Blainford, along with Georgie’s mother, Ginny. Maybe it was because of her nostalgia for her own school days that Tara seemed to take a special interest in Georgie. It was Tara who had made sure that Georgie was assigned Belle, and she had worked hard to help Georgie to master the difficult but talented bay mare. Not that Tara played favourites – she made that clear when she eliminated Georgie last term.

“Lucinda was a bit shocked when I told her that I was dropped from class,” Georgie said.

Tara looked serious. “I know that was hard for you, Georgie. I know how much cross-country meant to you…”

“How much it means to me,” Georgie corrected her. She was surprised at her own boldness, but there was no going back now. “Tara, I would accept it if I deserved to be kicked out, but really it wasn’t my fault when Belle refused on the course.” Georgie bit her lip, her voice trembling. “So I was hoping you might reconsider your decision and let me back into the eventing class.”

Tara fell silent for a moment, stunned by the request.

“Georgie,” she said at last, “perhaps you were unfairly dealt with in that final assessment last term. But you had been failing in my class for some time before that.”

“I know Belle and I had problems,” Georgie said, “but we sorted them out. She’s going brilliantly now. If you just let us back in you’ll see.”

“I can’t make exceptions for you, Georgie,” said Tara, shaking her head. “How would that look to the other riders?”

“Like you cared,” Georgie said. She knew she was overstepping the mark, and she expected Tara to lose her temper, but her former instructor looked sympathetic.

“I do care, Georgie. But I can’t let you back into the class just like that.”

Georgie nodded mutely, her heart broken. She turned and was about to leave when Tara spoke again.

“Come back and talk to me about it at the end of term, Georgie. I may have a couple of spaces opening up in the class by then. If you’re excelling in your subjects maybe then we can talk to the headmistress about your possible reinstatement.”

“So you’d take me back next term?”

“You’d need to convince Mrs Dickins-Thomson. I’m not making any promises,” Tara said. “Do your best for the rest of the term and then… we’ll see.”

*

It was cold outside as she left the stables and Georgie was glad that she’d worn her new coat. The classic army-green Barbour her dad had given her as a Christmas gift was her prized possession.

She couldn’t believe her father would know enough to buy her the jacket. Her dad had a very bad track record at choosing her presents so it must have been Lucinda’s choice. Either way, Georgie didn’t care – she’d loved the look on her dad’s face when she had said with absolute honesty, “Thank you, Dad – it’s exactly what I wanted!”

As she headed along the driveway back to Badminton House, Georgie shoved her hands deep in the tartan-lined pockets of the Barbour. Her conversation with Tara had given her the smallest scrap of hope, but in a way that only made it worse. She would spend the whole term struggling with a new class – and for what? Tara might never take her back. What if the headmistress, Mrs Dickins-Thomson, vetoed her request? Maybe Lily was right. Why was she torturing herself like this? Tara had made it clear that she wasn’t promising anything – even at the end of term. And what was she going to do in the meantime? Dressage class was a joke and—

“Parker!”

Georgie groaned. She turned round to confront the two people she had been trying to avoid ever since she arrived back at Blainford: Conrad Miller and Kennedy Kirkwood.

If Georgie had thought that the concept of Conrad and Kennedy as boyfriend and girlfriend was creepy, the actual sight of them holding hands on the driveway was even more disturbing.

Both of them were wearing standard uniform navy wool blazers and scarves. Conrad, being a senior, wore long black boots. He also wore spurs, which denoted his status as a prefect.

“Hey, Parker!” Conrad called again. “Nice jacket.”

Georgie didn’t respond. Conrad hadn’t called out to her to give her a compliment. There was something else coming and she knew it.

“But it’s not regulation school uniform,” Conrad added. “Take it off now.”

The look of smugness on Kennedy’s face as her boyfriend gave the order was unbearable. Georgie scowled back at them.

“Don’t be a numnah, Conrad. I’ve had a tough day, I’m freezing cold and I’m going back to my dorm, OK? Just leave me alone.”

“I’m serious, Parker,” Conrad said, clearly loving the thrill that his prefect powers were giving him. “That jacket isn’t regulation. Take it off right now.”

Bristling with anger, Georgie did as he said, pulling the coat off.

“All right. Satisfied?” She was about to turn round and leave when Conrad spoke again.

“Parker.”

“What?”

“Give me the coat.”

Georgie couldn’t believe it. “I’ve taken it off, Conrad, I won’t wear it at school again.”

Conrad shook his head. “Not good enough. I’m confiscating it.”

He stepped forward to take the coat out of Georgie’s hands. For a moment she tightened her grip, but then realised that this was going to end badly for her, no matter what.

Conrad smiled as he snatched it from her and then left her with four spiteful little words. “Parker – you’re on Fatigues.”