The instant Tally steps out of the car, everything hits her at once. The smell of the hay, the sounds of hooves coming from the other side of the yard, and best of all, the sight right in front of her.
“Can you believe that we’re doing this?” squeals Layla, standing beside her. “I couldn’t go to sleep last night because I was so excited.”
Tally looks around, trying to take it all in.
“This is so much better than chocolate,” she sighs.
Layla’s mum grins at Tally’s mum.
“That’s quite the endorsement,” she laughs. “I’m not sure that I think there’s anything better than chocolate!”
Tally steps forward, towards the fence that separates them from the horses.
“I would never eat chocolate again if it meant that I could keep coming here.”
Mum puts a hand on her shoulder. “This is a one-off visit,” she reminds her, for the millionth time. “An Easter gift instead of a chocolate egg.”
Layla’s mum sniffs loudly. “I could have bought two hundred eggs for the price of this little jaunt,” she says.
But neither Layla nor Tally is listening. The main door to the stables has just opened, and a woman in riding boots is striding towards them.
“Are you my ten o’clock lesson?” she barks, jerking a chin at their mothers. “I’m Ginny. You may as well leave them here and come back in two hours. It’s far too cold to stand out here waiting, and I don’t want you cluttering up my tack room.”
Mum throws Tally a quick look. “Do you want me to wait in the car?” she asks quietly.
“Off you go,” replies the woman before Tally can answer. “Best if you both go and get a coffee and let the kids get on with it.” Then she turns to face the girls and gives them a long look as if she’s trying to figure something out. “Hmmm. I think we’ll put you on Shadow,” she says, to Layla. “And as for you…” She stares hard at Tally’s face. “Yes. You’ll be perfect for Peaches. She’s spirited, like you.”
Tally breathes out in relief. She doesn’t know why, but she very much wants to impress this slightly snappy Ginny-woman, and it feels like she just passed some kind of test. Without checking to see if they’re following her, Ginny spins on her heel and marches back to the stables. Tally glances at Mum. They’d agreed that Mum would stay and watch. Doing this without her nearby was not part of the plan.
Tally swallows hard. She could make a fuss and demand that Mum be allowed to stay, but that would take time – precious time she could be using to meet Peaches. For a brief minute, she can feel tears prickle behind her eyes, and she wonders why even the nicest and best things always have to be so hard.
“Let’s go!” says Layla, grabbing hold of Tally’s hand. “The horses are waiting for us!”
It’s true. And Tally has been waiting for this day for so, so long.
“I’ll be here when you finish the lesson,” Mum tells her. “I can’t wait to hear about how you get on!”
Layla starts to walk towards the stables, tugging Tally behind her. There is just time to wave goodbye to Mum before they’re inside, and the outside world and everything in it immediately vanishes from Tally’s sight and her thoughts.
It’s warm inside the stables, and Tally can hear a soft whinnying coming from some of the stalls. The air smells grass-green and dandelion-yellow, and she inhales deeply, filling her lungs with the comforting scent. It feels like home, even though she’s never been here before.
“This is Saira,” Ginny tells Layla, as a teenage girl walks up to them. “She’ll show you what to with Shadow and make sure that you’re doing everything safely.”
“Hi,” says Saira. “Shall we go and meet Shadow, then? She’s a total darling and a sweetheart. and you’re going to love her!”
Layla beams excitedly at Tally and then follows Saira into a nearby stall. Ginny picks up a bucket and some brushes and starts heading towards the far end of the stables, while Tally pauses, unsure about what she should be doing.
“Hurry up, then,” calls Ginny, without breaking her stride. “If you’re coming.”
Tally dashes after her and reaches her side just as Ginny pulls aside the gate to the end stall.
“Is Peaches a total darling too?” she asks, panting for breath. “Am I going to love her?”
Ginny makes a snorting noise that sounds a little bit like it might have come from the horse that is standing in front of them.
“I’m not sure that anyone would call you a total darling, would they?” she says, rubbing her hands on the horse’s flank. “You’re far too fiery for that. Now, are you coming in to help or not?”
Tally hesitates. “I’m not sure. Why have you given me a fiery horse and not a sweetheart like Layla?”
Ginny raises one eyebrow. “Because I thought you’d be good for her,” she says firmly. “And just maybe, she might be good for you. There’s nothing wrong with being fiery, you know. As long as it’s for a good reason.”
Tally thinks for a moment and then steps inside the stall.
Ginny nods. “Close the stable door behind you,” she orders. “And I’ll show you how to give her coat a proper brushing.” She hands Tally a large brush and then, taking a slightly smaller one in her own hands, she starts sweeping it across the horse’s body in broad, circular strokes. “Copy what I do.”
As gently as she possibly can, Tally puts the brush on Peaches’ side.
“I hope this doesn’t hurt you,” she whispers, slowly moving it in a circle. Hair brushing is one of Tally’s least favourite things to do.
“It doesn’t hurt her at all.” Ginny is watching Tally’s every move. “You’re making sure that she doesn’t have any dirt or grit that might irritate her skin, and it’s also a chance to check that she doesn’t have any injuries. Grooming a horse properly is part of showing that you care about it. You can give her nose a rub now and introduce yourself.”
Ginny moves around to the back of the horse, and Tally takes a few steps until she’s standing in front of Peaches’ face. She doesn’t know how she’s supposed to introduce herself to a horse, and she can feel herself starting to get nervous, so she does what she always does at school when things are awkward and throws herself head first into a performance.
“Hi,” she says, making her voice bright and perky. “So – I’m Tally. I’m ten years old and my star sign is Cancer, which means that I’m hardworking and loyal and highly imaginative, but that I can also be a bit moody and difficult to get to know.”
“The two of you should get along well, then.” Ginny’s voice floats up from somewhere in the region of the horse’s backside. “Keep going – I’m enjoying this.”
Tally swells with pride. “I’m not sure how tall I am, but on the height chart in our kitchen it says that I’m the same height as a walrus when it’s sitting up, which I think is quite cool although I don’t look anything like a walrus. And I’m one centimetre taller than the height restriction for the World’s Second Fastest Roller-coaster, which is brilliant because I really love roller-coasters, and if I ever to get to visit America then I’d be really sad if I couldn’t go on it because I’m too small.”
She pauses to take a quick breath and Peaches nudges her nose against Tally’s arm. Tally giggles and runs her hand over the horse’s nose.
“She likes you,” states Ginny, emerging from the other side of the stall. “And she doesn’t like everyone. Not everyone understands her or sees her for who she really is.”
“That’s the same for me,” confesses Tally. “It’s probably the same for you too. I bet you get misunderstood all the time and people think you’re a bit grumpy when really you’re actually quite nice.”
Ginny nods seriously, although her mouth is twitching at the sides.
“It is,” she agrees. “But when you find someone who does see you, then it’s extra special. Now – enough chitter-chatter. You’re here to work, not have a tea party.”
Together they finish brushing Peaches down, and when every inch of her is shining, Ginny takes Tally out of the stall and over to a small table covered with riding hats. They find one that fits, and even though it feels heavy and uncomfortable and just awful under Tally’s chin, she doesn’t say a word.
“You’re all set,” says Ginny, giving her an approving look. “Go and stand with your friend by the main doors and we’ll bring the horses out. Peaches is going to want to trot, but if you give her clear, firm instructions then she’ll walk slowly for you. And that’s how she’ll show you that she cares.”
Tally scampers across the stable floor to where Layla is already waiting.
“This is the best!” calls Layla as she approaches. “My horse is so sweet and cute and adorable – I love her so much!”
Tally steps to one side as Ginny leads Peaches through the doors. As they pass, Peaches gives a loud snort as if she’s heard Layla’s proclamation of love for Shadow and is unimpressed.
Layla’s face screws up in sympathy. “Oh, bad luck, Tally. Your horse is nowhere near as lovable as mine.”
Tally shakes her head at her friend. “She might not be sweet,” she tells her. “But that doesn’t mean that she isn’t lovable. And anyway, I’d rather be fiery than cute.”
And then she walks across the yard to the mounting block, where Ginny is waiting to help her get up on to Peaches and settle herself in the saddle. When her feet are securely in the stirrups, Ginny shows her how to let Peaches know that she needs to walk slowly.
“You have to be firm but gentle,” she tells Tally. “If you feel her wanting to go faster, then the first thing you must do is to breathe out, loudly and slowly. That will tell her that you want something from her and give her some advance warning. Nobody likes abrupt demands being made of them, after all.”
Tally definitely agrees with this. She hates it if Mum or Dad suddenly yell instructions at her – it makes her head feel fuzzy.
“Then you can say the word ‘walk’ in a very calm voice,” continues Ginny. “If you sound panicked then Peaches will get panicked because she needs to know that you have the control and that she can trust you.”
Tally understands. There is nothing more frightening than knowing that the person who is supposed to be in charge is feeling out of their depth.
“The important thing with horses and misbehaviour,” Ginny says, handing a set of reins to Tally, “is to identify whether they can’t do as you ask or they don’t want to do as you ask. They’re two very different things, but we can help the horse to do the right thing by being patient and relaxed, and by never, ever punishing. It’s far better to give rewards for hard work than to punish for getting something wrong.”
Tally nods enthusiastically. Sometimes, people ask her to do things that she just can’t do, even though they aren’t things that other people think are particularly tricky. She knows exactly what can’t feels like – it’s like having your tummy filled up with wriggling, squirming snakes while your head explodes with tiny fireworks. Can’t is the scariest feeling in the whole world, especially when everyone else thinks that it’s really won’t.
After double-checking that everything is as it should be, Ginny picks up the rope and leads them forward into the training paddock, where they walk round and round in circles. Tally and Layla wave energetically at each other as they pass, Layla on the docile, plodding Shadow, and Tally on the lively Peaches who, despite her desires to run like the wind, walks calmly and slowly for the girl perched on her back, who whispers and reassures and praises the horse for following her instructions.
And even though they’re only walking in circles, it seems to Tally that, with every step that Peaches takes, they are going on a journey together. One that she will never forget.