It was squashy in the back seat of the Alfa. It also smelt musty in the wet weather, and with the constant threat that the car might break down Shelby was irritable. She had to sit in the middle between her brothers' car seats. Connor was complaining that he was too big for his booster seat, and Blake was restless and whiney just because he was four.
Their mother tried to distract them. 'I spy with my little –'
'Is it a truck?' Shelby interrupted.
'Well, yes. OK, your turn.'
'I spy with my little eye, something . . .' Shelby started.
'Road sign!' Blake yelled.
'. . . starting with D,' finished Dad.
'Dad!' Blake called out.
'Nope!'
'Dashboard,' said Connor with a yawn.
Shelby and her mum groaned.
'How much longer?' Blake asked.
'Not long, sugar.'
'Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall,' Shelby sang.
'No!' the others chorused.
They lapsed into silence again. Shelby wished that she'd borrowed Erin's MP3 player. At least she would have something to do. She leaned forward, elbows on knees, resting her chin on the heels of her hands, keeping an eye out for floats or horse transport trucks.
The car droned low as it headed up the hill from the Brooklyn Bridge through the dramatic rock cuttings. Shelby's mother kept the car in the far left-hand lane behind a semitrailer.
'Come on, baby, you can do it!' Shelby's father stroked the glove box.
Shelby watched the shoulder of the road as they putted along, thinking how boring it would be if the car stopped and wouldn't start again. Worst of all, there was no food in the car and she was hungry.
When the Alfa reached the top of the hill everyone exhaled.
'See? Made it!' Dad crowed.
As they drove across Mount White Shelby saw a convoy of trucks heading the other way. Some were semitrailers, but three were horse trucks. She could see ears through the small windows at the top. Each truck was splashed in bright colours, and sign-written in scrolled font, Equus Caballus. Shelby recognised the name from her numerous horse books as the Latin name for the horse, as canis lupus familiaris is to dog, and felis silvestris catus is to the common house cat.
'A horse circus!' she whispered.
Her eyes followed the trucks until they rounded the bend, then Shelby sat back, linked her fingers behind her head and stared at the roof.
Over the last month or so she had started having lessons with Miss Anita on Friday mornings before school. She'd had the first lesson on Blue, but after that Miss Anita had put her on one of the school ponies, Penelope, who was better educated and more Shelby's size. Miss Anita said it was easier when she wasn't trying to school the horse and the rider at the same time.
For so long she'd perched on the fence watching the other girls have their lessons, and suddenly she was the one in the arena. She'd learnt so much already, and was amazed to find that her arms and legs hurt after her lessons, even though she rode for hours almost every day.
Miss Anita said that she had a naturally strong core balance, but her technique was sloppy. Since she had been having lessons she had started concentrating on keeping her shoulders back and looking where she was going instead of down at the horse's neck – even when she was out on trails.
She also enjoyed quizzing Miss Anita at the end of each lesson. She would ask about different styles of riding, competition, and how to train horses. Miss Anita always gave her long answers and sometimes took the time to show her examples as well. Miss Anita had some pretty strong opinions about things, Shelby was discovering. Sometimes she got an answer, other times a lecture, but it was all good.
Now Shelby wasn't sure what she wanted to do. For years her dream had been hacking. She'd always loved the neat little show ponies in the magazines, and the smart outfits that the girls wore, but from what she was learning from the Crooks she wasn't sure if she wanted to do that any more.
She'd been to a few shows with the Crooks leading up to the Royal. Sometimes in a class it was obvious which horse should win, but other times she had been surprised by the choice the judge made. She didn't know how she could ever succeed in a discipline where the method of judging was so arbitrary and vague, and where there was no opportunity for feedback.
How could you improve when you had no idea what they were looking for? Even the Crooks, with all the money, time and professional help they threw at it, weren't guaranteed success. Besides, it was never a field in which Blue was going to succeed, and since she could only have one horse it seemed a hopeless case.
Now Shelby was at a crossroads. She was going to ask Miss Anita for jumping lessons on Blue. He was good at that, and seemed to enjoy it. Shelby wasn't as brave as he was, especially approaching the bigger jumps. She could also try sporting. Blue was nifty. He'd probably do well at that too. Except then she'd miss out on the dressing-up part. It was hard to know what to do.
'Maybe I should join the circus,' she muttered.
'How much longer now?' Blake asked.
'Nearly there.'
Soon they were turning off the freeway and heading east towards the coast, where Aunty Jenny had a little cottage on the top of a hill.
When they pulled into the drive, even her father sighed with relief that the Alfa had actually made it. The three children tumbled out of the car.
'Aunty Jenny!' the boys called out, running up the steps.
Shelby's great-aunt opened the door and Shelby gasped. 'What have you done with your hair?'
The older lady smiled and flicked at her auburncoloured hair self-consciously.
'Oh, trying to stave off death for another year by thinking young thoughts.'
'Well, it looks fabulous,' said Shelby's father, kissing her on the cheek.
'Maybe we should get ours done while we're here. What do you think, Shel?' her mother said.
'Yes, we can go and see my friend tomorrow,' Aunt Jenny added.
'Yeah, maybe,' Shelby replied. She hugged her aunt warmly. 'It's great to see you, Aunty Jenny. Your hair looks ace.'
Inside the house her aunt made coffee for the grown-ups and served hot cross buns fresh from the oven with melted butter. The two boys tucked into them with gusto and Shelby was embarrassed to see Blake wiping his buttery fingers on the edge of the cushion he was sitting on. She expected Aunty Jenny to rouse on him but she didn't seem to notice.
Shelby stood at the window and looked out into Aunt Jenny's front garden, which was mostly native reeds and grasses. Shelby could see that Aunty Jenny had laid patterns of pebbles in different colours along the paths and the beds were deep with mulch.
Beyond the garden the wide bay stretched out in an arc. A wharf jutted into the water and Shelby could make out fishermen casting lines, with their buckets and eskies behind them. Shelby could imagine the scene being a picture in one of those gardening magazines that her father subscribed to.
'I'm going on a tour,' Aunty Jenny announced, once they were all fed and settled.
'Where are you going?' Dad asked.
'I'm starting in South Africa and then heading up to Kenya, Morocco, then Spain. I have to see Prague, of course, then Paris and London. I'll pop over to New York, San Francisco, down to Mexico City, then . . . Let me see, Rio, I think, then Buenos Aires, across to Auckland and then home.'
'That's all?' Shelby's dad asked. 'No Russia? You do realise you're skipping Asia altogether?'
'Next time,' Aunt Jenny smiled.
'Well, that sounds like quite a trip!' said Shelby's mum, helping herself to another hot cross bun.
'I've put it off for so long.' Aunty Jenny shook her head. 'I don't know what I've been waiting for.' She smiled briefly. 'It seems silly now, so I thought I'd do it all at once. I'll be gone for some time.'
'Sounds like it!' Dad said. He was smiling, but Shelby could tell that underneath it he was worried. When Shelby was younger they had really only seen Aunty Jenny at Christmas time when she came to stay with them, but Shelby had noticed recently that her father was arranging to see her more often, and phoning Aunty Jenny 'just to say hi'. He joked and laughed, but underneath that was the same concerned expression that he was wearing now. Aunty Jenny was the only one left on Shelby's father's side of the family, and she was becoming more frail. Shelby's dad worried about Aunty Jenny living by herself.
'Anyway,' her aunt continued, 'I've been doing some thinking. I'll be in London in December and I was hoping that you could all come and join me there. Just for a few weeks. We could have a white Christmas.'
Shelby's parents exchanged a glance. 'Oh, we'd love to, but –'
'This is where the thinking part comes in,' Aunty Jenny interrupted. 'I'm going to be gone for eighteen months. That's a long time for a house to be empty. At first I thought I could rent my house out, but then I had a better idea. If you moved in here then you could rent your house out, and with the money you could come and visit me – all of you.'
'Move here?' said Dad.
'For eighteen months?' asked Shelby.
Aunty Jenny nodded. 'Yes. This house is certainly big enough and there is plenty of room in the garage to store extra furniture.' She sighed. 'I could just rent out my house and give you the money, but I didn't think you would accept it.'
Shelby's dad shook his head. 'We try to make our own way in the world, Jenny.'
'I have to confess to another more selfish motive. You have such a magnificent green thumb. I've invested so much time in my garden, and it's exactly the way I want it now. I would hate to come back and find it in ruins.' She smiled. 'What do you think?'