The Prize. Stacy Gregg

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “He was supposed to be Cherry’s next Grand Prix superstar,” Alice told the others, “but Cherry’s been crazy-busy with work, riding other people’s horses. Mum said since Caspian wasn’t getting ridden, Cherry should give him to me for the term.”

      Until now, Alice had been riding William the Conqueror, a well-bred chestnut warmblood. But over the holidays she had noticed that Will was scratchy on his left foreleg. By the last week of the holiday that scratchiness had developed into a hoof abscess and Will was lame. When the vet was called out to the Dupree ranch to cut out the abscess he did some x-rays and found that the gelding also had degenerative arthritis in his hocks. The abscess would cure – but the hocks were a disaster. It was the end of William’s jumping career.

      The Badminton House girls knew how much Alice had adored Will. But she seemed pretty thrilled with having Caspian as his replacement – and when they arrived at the stables they could see why.

      Caspian was a stunner. A long-limbed Oldenburg, pale grey with dapples on his shoulders and rump, and a steel-grey mane and tail, he stood in his loose box and nibbled blithely on his hay net while the girls admired his beauty.

      “He’s gorgeous!” Emily was wide-eyed.

      “I know!” Alice looked at him possessively. “He’s so handsome I just keep staring at him!”

      “Is he any good at cross-country?” Daisy asked.

      “He’s never done it,” Alice conceded. “He’s brilliant over coloured poles, but that’s all he’s ever jumped with Cherry. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.”

      Monday afternoon would be when the eventers had their lesson with Tara Kelly.

      “Tara might take it easy on us,” Emily Tait said hopefully. “It’s only our first day back.”

      Daisy gave a hollow laugh. “I doubt it!”

      Emily turned to Georgie. “Can she eliminate you a second time? Or do you have immunity now?”

      Alice frowned. “It’s not an episode of Survivor, Emily. No one gets ‘immunity’!” She did air quotes as she said the last bit.

      Georgie agreed. “Just because Tara let me back into the class doesn’t mean she won’t get rid of me again.”

      “Someone’s going to have to go,” Daisy said bluntly. “We won’t all make it through to the second year.”

      “Can we not talk about this?” Emily said, getting upset. “I don’t want to lose any of my friends.”

      “Geez, Emily, it’s only getting kicked out of cross-country class,” Daisy told her. “It’s not like life and death!”

      “Isn’t it?” Alice questioned.

      All the girls knew that at Blainford, where the cliques ruled the school, being Tara Kelly’s eventers was like a badge that you wore with pride. While the polo boys were rich and arrogant, the showjumperettes were glamorous and stuck-up, the westerns were laidback and the dressage geeks intense and uptight, the eventers stood out as fearless and loyal.

      Apart from Kennedy and Arden, who had transferred from showjumping and had always made it quite clear that they wanted nothing to do with their classmates, Tara Kelly’s first-years were a tight-knit bunch.

      The danger that they faced on the cross-country course gave them a sense of camaraderie. But there was also a fierce rivalry amongst them for class rankings. Tara Kelly went through her ruthless elimination cull of her pupils in the first year to make sure that only the very best were allowed to continue up the grades. The way Tara saw it, elimination wasn’t about ruining young lives, it was about saving them.

      Eventing was a demanding subject – and a deadly one for any rider who wasn’t skilled enough to meet the challenge. Travelling at a fast gallop over solid fences meant huge risks for both horse and rider. Even the rodeo class had a grudging respect for the broken bone count in the eventing department. Incredibly, so far the first-year eventing class had avoided any major injuries.

      Or at least they had done until now. As they left the stables and walked up the school driveway the girls spied Nicholas Laurent ahead of them. The French rider was one of their cross-country gang and he was on crutches and sporting a bright blue plaster cast on his leg that went all the way to the knee.

      By the time the girls reached the dining hall, Nicholas was already in the queue, trying to hold his dinner tray whilst balancing on a single crutch. The other eventing boys – Cameron Fraser, Alex Chang and Matt Garrett – were all with him but none of them were offering to help. Instead, they were greedily dishing burgers and fries on to their own plates.

      “Don’t you guys ever think about anyone else?” Alice said casting a dark look at Cameron and the others as she stepped forward to relieve the grateful Nicholas of his tray. “Nicholas, you go and sit down. I’ll get your food and bring it over for you.”

      “Merci, Alice,” Nicholas said. “Get me extra frites, OK?” He hobbled off to take a seat at the eventers’ usual table while Alice piled his plate and her own. As soon as Laurent’s back was turned the girls began whispered speculations on the cause of the broken leg.

      “Do you think he did it practising cross-country?” Emily asked.

      Georgie shook her head. “I bet he did it on the hunt field in Bordeaux.”

      “I hope the horse was OK,” Alice said looking back over her shoulder at him as she dished up the fries. “It looks like it must have been a bad fall.”

      When the girls finally joined Nicholas and the other boys at the table, however, he refused to tell them anything about the accident.

      “I don’t want to talk about it,” Nicholas was adamant.

      “Why not?” Matt Garrett frowned.

      “Because…” Nicholas paused. “Because… it is no big deal. There is nothing to say.”

      “Nicholas,” Alice was insistent, “you’re in a cast. You have crutches. It looks like a big deal to us.”

      Nicholas shrugged.

      “Come on,” Cameron persisted. “Tell us how you did it.”

      Nicholas cast a sideways glance, checking the room to see if anyone else was near the eventers’ table.

      “OK,” he said, leaning in over the table, his voice hushed in a conspiratorial tone. “I will tell you what happened.”

      The riders all leaned in and waited in silence for him to speak. Nicholas looked serious. And then, in a quiet voice he said, “I was playing tennis.”

      There was a choking sound as Matt Garrett almost snorted his orange juice out through his nose. “Tennis? Seriously? You did it playing tennis?”

      Nicholas looked around the room nervously. “Please don’t tell anyone,” he said. “I’ve already had three girls ask to sign my cast. They think I did it falling off on a three-star course in Saumur. If they knew that I tripped making a backhand shot it wouldn’t be good for my reputation.”

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