Silverstone: Perfection is Not Enough

Chapter 8

"Alright, Valegro! Welcome to the Year Eight barn one!"

After walking for two minutes, I look up from my conversation with Tabitha and my eyes widen. Surrounded by lush, green fields, are three things: an outdoor school, a large covered space with wide metal doors which I'm guessing is the indoor school, and a big, wooden stable barn.

Wooden post-and-rail fences surround the fertile paddocks, and a few horses and ponies graze peacefully. Wow. This is all for Year Eight? 

"This is seriously amazing," Rose whispers. I nod, still speechless. The barn is made from light wood, and sprawls over a few hundred square feet, with a gravel track leading up to the entrance. 

Lucy leads us through the open archway into the barn; the doors are bolted to the outside wall. The smell of shavings, straw and horse hits me like a wave, and I breathe in deeply, inhaling all the sweet scents. The interior of the barn is just as pretty as the outside, open loose boxes with half doors bearing name plaques. Ponies and horses of all shapes and size look up from their haynets as we pass by.

Lucy stops ahead of us, and gestures around her. "So, this is all yours for the next year. You only share with Secretariat, Seabiscuit and Frankel have barn two, so there aren't too many of you bolting around at once! If you've brought your own horse, you've probably noticed that it's already in here. Your tack is all on your designated hooks and boxes in the tack room," she points at a single door at the opposite end of the barn, "So you can get tacked up. The indoor is open, and a stable hand is in there, so you can go and get warmed up."

Several people break away from the group and go to find their horses, including Bertie, Tabitha, Liam amidst others. Lucy nods at those of us still standing here.

"Well, we've organised all the horses you can choose from in this half of the barn, so pick away. Valegro is the first to choose, so you get the best ones."

Uncertainly, I wait for someone else to walk away first. Unsurprisingly, Rose bounds along, looking at the horses and ponies. I go along more slowly, considering each one carefully.

The first name plaque introduces me to the first horse. 'Snowdrop' is a pretty, pure grey Connemara pony, with a wide nose and huge dark eyes. She nuzzles my hand as I reach to stroke her.

"You're lovely, but not my kind of pony, Snowie," I say, smiling at her warm breathe tickling my palm, then pull my hand away and carry on. 

Next is a tall buckskin horse, named 'Leapfrog'. He eyes me warily, then snorts. This really isn't my type, but I laugh at his outward arrogance. I pat his shoulder before moving up the row. 

Altogether, I pass about twenty horses and ponies before one really catches my eye. A chestnut, with a slightly dished face, looks out at me from her stable, with wide, enticing eyes. Her dainty conformation hints at Arabian descent; one of the horses back at Sunny Creek was part Arabian, and I really loved her. 'Prada Queen' is a definite possibility. 

But when I see the next horse, I know that there's no chance for Prada. 

I know this horse must be at least part Thoroughbred, from his sturdy conformation and a straight profile head. His warm, liquid eyes eye me inquiringly, and his dark forelock reaches the space between them. I've always like dark bays, and his coat is decidedly that, with a hint of muscle showing. 

"Flying Arrow," I whisper, gently stroking his nose. Unlike Snowie, who unquestioningly nuzzled my fingers, Arrow sniffs uncertainly before gently blowing. 

"So, is this the horse for you, Jess?" Lucy comes up behind me and looks at Arrow critically. "You've got a good eye, I'll give you that. He's a purebred, pink-papered Thoroughbred, and this horse can pretty much do anything when he puts his mind to it. I'm going to warn you though, he's new, and when one of the stable girls excercised him over the summer, he threw her off pretty badly. She broke her arm. Are you sure?"

One look at Arrow tells me. "Yes."

Lucy pats me on the back. "Well, your tack is in your space."

As I head over to the tack room, Rose catches me on the way back, her arms hidden under a heavy, brown leather saddle with a bridle slung over the top.

"You've picked?"

"Yep. Have you?"

She grins. "You'll see in the school."

The tack room is a long, low room, with saddles hing neatly in rows of rich chocolate, light tawny, and occasionally, the black dressage. The smell of leather and saddle soap lingers, and I grin. From the hours of cleaning tack that I used to do at Sunny Creek, this is a familiar, comforting smell.

After tracing down the lines, I eventually find myself sandwiched between Bertie's tack and some other girl called Kennedy Jones. 

"She must be in Secretariat," I mutter, as I reach up for the light brown saddle and bridle. I find a saddle cloth in the medium-sized tub underneath the hook, and assume that the royal blue one matching my polo top is the one I need now. 

As I get back to Arrow, I hand the tack over the half-door, and find several brushes hanging on hooks underneath the name plaque. I quickly run a body brush over him, and tack up. After years of only putting saddles on ponies and small horses, Arrow's sixteen hand something height is hard to reach, but I just about manage, and sling the girth up as far as it can go.

I lead him out and down the barn towards the archway, where a mounting block lies outside. Waiting, for somebody to get on, I play with the reins in my hand, murmuring softly to Arrow.

"We're going to get on, boy. I just know it."

a/n: Thanks for reading! And please, please, please comment! 

JfMaddie xox