2. Spud

Everybody talked at once on the way to the small yards near the stables. The horses were tied along the rails, their heads low and relaxed, their tails flicking left and right to swish away pesky flies. There were bays, chestnuts, a black one with white spots, and one beautiful palomino.

My eyes fixed on the palomino.

Its coat was the colour of shiny caramel, and its thick, creamy tail was crinkled and long, just like the pictures in my magazines. Plus, it looked the perfect height for me – not too tall, not too short. Its eyes were big and brown and its muzzle looked soft and kind.

I grinned. It was exactly the sort of horse I’d dreamed of.

‘Okay, everyone. Time to choose. That’s Dancer, Tic-Tac, the little fella’s Joey, and the spotty one’s CJ. Over here we’ve got Oscar, Spud and Fry, and, of course, the palomino, Razz. We might have to chop and change a bit to make sure you’re on the right horse for your ability, but today let’s just get to know one another. Each horse has its name on its halter, so once you’ve chosen, grab the lead rope and follow me to the arena.’

I started towards the palomino. He was definitely the horse I wanted.

Mikaela was marching straight for him.

I quickened my step.

She was faster. In less than a breath, she’d grabbed his halter and was standing smugly beside him.

My shoulders slumped. Now what was I going to do?

I turned to check out the others. The little one called Joey seemed nice – but according to my research, horses with short legs were very uncomfortable to ride. Anyway, the ninja from the top bunk was already reaching for him.

The black horse with the spots might do.

Too late. Already taken.

In fact, all of the horses had a rider beside them. All except one.

The last horse was massive. His wide back was so big you could practically land a helicopter on it. His face was a giant square lump. His feet were like saucers attached to long, knobbly legs, and his mane and tail were messy, like the rest of him. But worst of all, instead of standing still when I reached for his lead rope, he jerked up his head and tugged the rope loose from the rail. Then he darted away and barged in between Razz and a skinny-looking chestnut.

My heart bungeed to my toes. This wasn’t what I’d imagined.

‘Hey!’ shouted Mikaela. ‘Shift your stupid camel.’ She gave the big horse a shove, and he took a step backwards, pushing in beside Joey and another horse. All I could see was his giant grey backside, huge between theirs.

‘Ouch! Your horse stood on my foot!’ squealed one of the pink twins.

‘Get him away!’ cried someone else.

My feet turned into blocks of cement. Catching a horse was nothing like the instructions in my magazines. His head was bigger, his shoulders higher, and why did he keep stamping his hooves when I least expected it?

I looked around for Mrs Bacton. She’d have to find me a better horse. How would I ever learn to ride, let alone win a trophy, on this grey giant? Perhaps she could make one of the others swap. There were taller girls in the group; they might love a chance to ride him.

But the others were already leading their horses towards the arena.

I sat against the bottom rail of the fence and kicked my too-big borrowed boots in the dust. I ignored the grey horse when he swung around and pricked up his over-sized ears.

Mrs Bacton ducked through the rails. ‘You okay?’ she said, crouching on her haunches beside me. ‘You crying?’

‘No!’ I sniffed. ‘It’s just the dust.’

Mrs Bacton smiled. ‘Good. Well, I see you’ve chosen a horse.’

‘No, not yet. That one’s way too big. Mikaela’s much taller. I’d rather have the palomino, please.’

‘Oh, I see,’ said Mrs Bacton. ‘Well, that’s a shame, because you two would make the perfect match.’ She put her hand over mine. ‘Here, open up.’

When she dropped something sticky into my palm, I screwed up my nose and passed it back. ‘No thanks. I hate licorice.’

‘Not for you, silly, for the horse.’ She pushed my hand back towards me. ‘It’s made of the same stuff as molasses. You know, the sticky goo we pour over horses’ food? Show it to him and he’ll come straight over.’

I frowned but held out my hand. Sure enough, the massive grey sniffed the air and walked on over. He nosed my palm and gobbled up the licorice.

‘See?’ said Mrs Bacton, grabbing his halter. ‘Spud’s like any other thoroughbred. Loves his food!’ She gave his neck a scratch. ‘Especially licorice.’

Spud? That’d be right. He looked about as useful as a sack of dirty potatoes. He towered above me as Mrs Bacton passed me his lead rope. My stomach sloshed like a washing machine. He was huge.

‘Don’t be fooled by appearances,’ she said. ‘Old Spud’s a real gem. Let himself go now, of course, but he won a couple of biggies before we retired him.’ She scratched under his belly, making him stick out his neck like a cat. ‘Few years ago now, hey buddy?’

‘Biggies?’

‘Yes. Spud’s a retired racehorse. He …’

My stomach ramped up to the spin cycle. A retired racehorse? She expected me – a complete beginner – to ride a racehorse?

‘I can’t,’ I said, handing her back the lead rope. ‘I need to swap for Razz, please.’

‘Now wait up a minute, young lady,’ said Mrs Bacton. ‘You’re judging him too fast. Spud mightn’t be the prettiest horse here, but he’s one of the best we have. He’s taught loads of kids to ride. If you look after him, he’ll look after you. Come on.’

She pushed the rope back towards me and showed me how to lead Spud by standing near his left shoulder and clicking him along. He smelt like green grass and licorice, and after all the fuss catching him, he was surprisingly easy to lead. He just sort of plodded along beside me, like a tall, gangly giraffe. His feet were so big they could’ve broken all my toes, but he didn’t even come close to treading on me.

‘That’s the spirit,’ said Mrs Bacton as we approached the arena. ‘You’ll get the hang of it. We’ll have you jumping in no time.’

Jumping? Surely she didn’t expect me to jump on this beast?