Flame and the Rebel Riders (8 page)

BOOK: Flame and the Rebel Riders
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“First of all,” Aidan said, smiling sweetly back at her as he passed her back the bucket, “we broke up, remember? I don’t have to tell you everything any more. Second, I didn’t know you were going to be here either. Shouldn’t you be at pony club?”

“I’m here for work,” Issie found herself hesitating. “I’m…I’m riding for Ginty McLintoch.”

“Riding for Ginty? You’re kidding!”

“Why?” Issie asked defensively. “I don’t see why everyone has to react like that. She’s not so bad once you know her!” She picked up her water bucket to leave, and Jock, Angus and Wombat, who had been sitting waiting patiently, all sprang up in unison ready to walk by her side.

“Whoa, don’t storm off!” Aidan teased. “You’ll spill your water and then you’ll have to queue all over again.”

“I’m not being a drama queen,” Issie insisted, “but I really have to go. I need to wash Tottie’s tail before Ginty gets back.”

“Oh, come on!” Aidan said. “There’s still loads of time before the first class. Come back to the truck with me. Just for a minute.”

“I can’t,” Issie resisted, “I’ve got the dogs with me…”

But Aidan was insistent. “The dogs can come too. Araminta and Morgan would love to say hi. And you have to come and see Fortune. It’ll only take a minute.”

“OK,” Issie said. “But just for a minute, and then I have to get back to wash Tottie’s tail.”

“Great!” Aidan grinned. “You can explain to Araminta how come you’re now working for The Enemy!” He said this last part with a spooky horror-movie voice and then grinned again. It was that same grin he always used to give Issie when he was teasing her and at that moment she could feel her heart beating like crazy. It was so strange to see Aidan again. He hadn’t changed at all. Well, actually, maybe he was a bit more handsome. Ohmygod! Why did he have to be here? She needed to concentrate on her riding today. Ginty and Cassandra Steele would both be watching her. She couldn’t afford to lose focus because her boyfriend…no, she corrected herself, her
ex-boyfriend…
had turned up.

Among the other plain, boring horse trucks, Araminta’s truck was ultra-glamorous, like a giant jewel box, painted in crisp white with her initials written on the side in gigantic curlicued Tiffany-blue type. The back ramp of the truck had been left open and there was a girl, about Issie’s age, with long dark hair just like Issie’s, sitting with her legs dangling off the side of the ramp, busily polishing a Mylar bit.

“Issie!” Morgan Chatswood-Smith dropped the bridle and jumped up and raced over to them, giving Issie a hug. “Mum!” she called out. “Come and see who’s here!”

Araminta emerged a few moments later. She looked stunning as always in her usual uniform of sleek jodhpurs and a crisp navy blouse. An orange Hermès scarf tied back her raven hair and she wore a pair of enormous black sunglasses.

“Isadora,” Araminta smiled at her. “How nice to see you! Is Tom here with you?”

Aidan pulled a face. “Issie’s not here with Tom. She’s riding for Ginty!”

“Really?” Araminta looked surprised. “How on earth did that happen?”

“It’s a long story,” Issie groaned.

“Come on,” Aidan said, saving her from the conversation by grabbing her hand and dragging her off. “You have to come and see Fortune.”

On the other side of Araminta’s sparkling white horse truck the ponies were tied up, each one with their own hay net. They were standing quietly, nibbling away on their hay. All except the piebald pony at the end. He had already finished his whole hay net and was lying down in the shade of the truck, sound asleep.

“Fortune!” Issie giggled at the sight of him. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“He likes to catnap between events,” Araminta said, shaking her head in disbelief. “He is the craziest pony I’ve ever owned, but by heavens he can jump! He’s been doing one metre thirty at home in the arena—”

“Issie?” Natasha suddenly emerged from round the corner of the horse truck. “Ohmygod, I have been looking everywhere for you! Come on! You’re supposed to be sorting out Tottie’s tail and Verity is on the warpath looking for you! She says Cassandra will be here soon!”

Issie felt a wave of panic. “I better go!” she told Aidan. “I’ll see you later, OK?” She didn’t even wait for his reply, and grabbed her bucket.

Natasha wanted them to run back to the truck, but Issie couldn’t with the heavy water bucket. “I saw Araminta’s truck,” Natasha explained as she scurried along beside Issie, urging her to walk faster, “and I figured out straight away that was where you’d be! Ginty is going to hit the roof. She won’t care that Aidan is your boyfriend. In fact that makes it worse! As far as Ginty is concerned they’re the competition. That’s like being a traitor!”

“It’s not!” Issie laughed. “And Aidan’s not my boyfriend any more. We split up months ago.”

Then again, the way that Aidan had flirted with her that morning…OK, so he was only joking when he said the stuff about kissing, but it had still left Issie feeling confused. Did Aidan want to go out with her again?

All happy thoughts of Aidan were wiped from her mind when she saw Verity. The head groom was standing beside Tottie, and she looked utterly furious.

“You took long enough!” Verity exclaimed. “Did you have to dig your own well or something?”

“I’m sorry,” Issie said, “I ran into an old friend by the—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Verity said, clearly having no interest in hearing the story. She looked really stressed out. “Can you hurry up and clean Tottie’s tail, like, now? Ginty’s going to be here any moment with Cassandra.”

There was barely enough time to shampoo and rinse Tottie’s tail. Issie was just combing out the wet, silvery strands, when Ginty and Cassandra arrived back at the truck.

Issie wasn’t sure what she had been expecting Cassandra Steele to look like, but this woman with Ginty certainly wasn’t it. Cassandra looked like a bulldog in a trouser suit. She wore a high-collared Chanel tweed jacket, which exaggerated her short and buxom physique and pushed up against the fleshy folds of her face. She had a tight-lipped expression and inquisitive eyes.

She looked at Issie, assessing her from head to toe, as if she were inspecting a pony that she was interested in purchasing. Not saying a word to Issie, she simply turned her attention to Tottie and spoke directly to Ginty.

“How’s my wonderful girl doing?” she asked in a booming voice that was far too large for her little body.

“Tottenham Hotspur has been doing extremely well in her training,” Ginty replied. “Verity is riding her today, and I think you’ll be really pleased with her progress. We’re expecting big things from this mare.”

“So you must be Verity, then?” Cassandra turned now to Issie, who was still combing through Tottie’s tail.

“No, I’m Issie.” Issie almost felt like she should bow or curtsey or something when Cassandra spoke to her.

“Isadora has just come on board as one of my new junior riders during the school holidays,” Ginty explained. “She’s got great potential.”

“I see,” Cassandra said. “And who were you riding for last season, Isadora?”

“Ummm,” Issie didn’t know what to say. “I was at Chevalier Point Pony Club.”

“Really?” Cassandra raised an eyebrow as if she had just bought an apple and discovered there was a worm in it and wanted her money back. “Pony club, you say? Well, this must be a big step up for you. I hope it’s not too big.” She focused her attention back to Tottie.

“As you can see, we’ve got her in brilliant condition,” Ginty said enthusiastically.

“I should hope so too!” Cassandra said. “That’s why I’m paying you so much money, isn’t it?”

Issie began to giggle at this and then realised her mistake and immediately shut up. It was clear that Cassandra hadn’t intended this to be a joke.

“And how is Quebec?” Cassandra asked, moving on to the dun pony that was tied up beside Tottie.

Quebec was really fourteen-three hands high, too big for the pony classes, but Ginty had somehow managed to get him under the measure and so he had a lifetime certificate that stated he was fourteen hands and two inches. This meant that Quebec could compete in the fourteen-two-and-under classes against ponies, instead of being pitted against enormous hacks. It also meant that Issie, who was only fifteen, quite light and not too tall, was the ideal choice to ride him.

For the past week Issie had been schooling the little dun over fences at Dulmoth Park, getting used to his ways. Quebec was a sweetheart to ride. He never ever hesitated at a jump, and Issie had no concerns about him refusing. She did worry, though, that he could be
sloppy with his legs and might knock down a rail or two, especially in a jump-off.

“Quebec should easily win his grade today,” Ginty reassured Cassandra. Issie thought that was a bit rash, telling the owner that her horse would definitely win! She felt a sudden attack of nerves. As Quebec’s rider the responsibility was on her shoulders. Ginty had just made it clear that nothing less than a first-place ribbon would do!

“And how is the new lad settling in?” Cassandra put a hand out to stroke Flame’s nose. “I paid a lot of money to import this boy. I’m expecting big things.”

“He won’t disappoint you,” Ginty said. “He’s been training like a champion already.”

Issie boggled at this comment. Why didn’t Ginty tell Cassandra the truth? Flame became a certifiable lunatic the minute he saw a showjump in front of him!

There was a little bit of small talk after that about farriers and the rising cost of hard feed. All the time Ginty was talking to Cassandra she seemed awfully tense. It was only when Cassandra excused herself briefly to go and make a call on her mobile phone that Issie found out what was eating Ginty. The trainer had clearly been
deeply furious with Issie the whole time and it was only now that Cassandra was out of earshot that she rounded on her junior groom.

“What the devil is going on here?” Ginty hissed under her breath, talking quietly enough to ensure that Cassandra wouldn’t hear her. “I get back to the truck and Verity tells me that you’ve been off God-knows-where doing who-knows-what when you should be getting Tottie ready! You only just got the dung out of her tail in time! Are you trying to make me look bad in front of Cassandra?”

Issie didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry. I was over at Araminta’s truck. I ran into an old friend and I thought I’d have enough time—”

“Araminta?” Ginty’s eyebrows shot up. “We’re not here for socialising, especially not at other people’s trucks! You are being paid to ride for me, and you should be getting your horses ready. There’s an event about to start! Instead, you’re off chatting to the competition and leaving it up to your teammates. It’s not good enough!”

Ginty looked utterly furious and her voice was as cold as ice. “I expect total loyalty from my riders. I have
got rid of grooms for this sort of behaviour before, and I have no qualms about doing it again!” She took a deep breath. “Do you want to keep this job, Isadora? Because right now…I’m on the verge of firing you!”

Chapter 8

Ginty’s temper tantrum was vicious, but it proved to be shortlived. She calmed down as soon as Cassandra came back from making her phone call, and it became clear that she had been bluffing about firing Issie.

“It’s a hollow threat,” Verity sighed. “She’s not going to get rid of you — she just told Cassandra how great you are. If she fires you now it will make her look bad.”

The four girls were heading towards the arena to walk the course before the competition began. Penny and Natasha had gone ahead, and Issie was walking at the back with Verity. “I’m sorry she gave you such a hard time when I told her that you’d been over at Araminta’s
truck,” Verity continued, “but I did it for your own good. You need to sharpen up and learn how things work around here, Issie. You never, ever leave the horses unattended at an event. Especially when the boss is due to turn up!”

“But I was only going to talk to my friends—”

Verity cut her off. “You don’t have friends any more, Issie. This is a serious competition. When you work for Ginty, you aren’t even allowed to talk to the other riders.”

“Not even to say hello?” Issie couldn’t believe it. There were lots of things about Ginty that surprised her. Even what they were doing at this moment seemed wrong. Avery would never have let Issie walk a showjumping course without being there right next to her advising on the best way to take each jump.

“Oh, Ginty hardly ever walks the course with us,” Verity said dismissively when Issie asked why the trainer wasn’t with them. “She’s always too busy schmoozing the other owners and looking for horses to buy. Ginty’s worse when Cassandra is here watching,” she added. “She’s terrified that we’ll make her look bad.”

“I don’t think Cassandra likes me much,” Issie said.

“She doesn’t like anyone!” Verity said. “She must have met me a half a dozen times and she never even remembers my name. She only cares about the horses.”

“Does she ride?” Issie asked.

Verity gave a wry laugh. “Does it look like she rides?” She shook her head. “Cassandra’s the head of some big company and she’s super-rich. I suppose she needs to spend her money on something so it might as well be horses — even if she gets other people to ride them for her.”

“She seems to really love being around the horses,” Issie said.

“I know!” Verity sighed. “I wish she’d push off. She makes Ginty all uptight — and besides, I can’t get anything done with her nosying around.”

Verity got her wish. By the time they returned from walking the course, Cassandra was gone and Ginty was bent over Quebec’s front hoof with a tiny wrench in her right hand, screwing studs into the pony’s shoes so he wouldn’t slip on the grass in the arena.

“How does the course look?” Ginty asked without looking up at them.

“The jumps are at maximum height for the hack
ring,” Verity told her. “And the ground is quite hard. Tottie will definitely need studs.”

“The pony ring is pretty straightforward,” Issie said. “The only jump that might cause trouble is a tight corner into the oxer.”

“Quebec is good on tight turns,” Ginty reassured her.

While Ginty finished the last of the pony’s studs, she sent Verity into the horse truck. “I think Quebec could do with some liniment,” Ginty told her. “Can you put it on, please?”

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