Chapter twelve, Saturday:26thoctober2013, today I win
George and Harry are boxed up, the vapour from their breathing in the cold air swirls around their pretty heads as they wait for me to do my final checks before shutting the back tailgate, stomping frustratedly on the box floor and munching from freshly filled hay-nets. A feeling of familiar anticipation builds inside me, I start the engine of my brand new horse-box. I didn’t even notice something was missing off my driveway as I pulled off and headed to Burghley
EC: “Good luck today” no time for chatting.
TC: “Tx” that might do it.
EC: “I know you’re in a 'zone', see I do listen? , but I’m your Mother, it’s my job to say 'be safe'” she’s not wrong, I am in my zone, don’t talk, don’t eat, can’t think about anything else, maybe that’s why I love it so much?
Determined not to let Daniels behaviour affect me I warm the boys up in turn on arrival, they are both performing magnificently, and we get envious stares from fellow competitors. Jinni making sure I have enough tea she hands me a flask, she's brilliant. It's a crisp sunny and very cold day, perfect for this event, George and Harry are working well and ready to pop with energy and excitement, the ground is soft but not waterlogged and I have the distraction of this man in my head and it works in my favour because I’m not feeling nervous at all.
TC: “Are you watching?” Hope so.
EC: “Kidding? All the girls are here we’re drinking the rest of a crate of Merlot Henry gave me” bloody hell.
TC: “I’m on in twenty minutes” wish me luck.
EC: “Be good” I’ll try Mum.
Take a slurp of tea, smell the leather, switch phone to silent, check my stopwatch, check my girth and off we go. We start fast launching from a rear and pulling the ground fast beneath us, probably too fast, but it feels good and as the first fence approaches I have no trepidation at all and we fly through the air. I’m suddenly transformed, in the moment and enjoying the exhilaration and at this speed, danger too, the wind in my face bringing tears to my eyes. We gallop at a steady pace, the sound of thumping hooves on soft ground and the smell of grass in my nostrils. Obstacle after jump we fly through the air, gasps from the crowd at every jump, crashing through the water at speed the crowd completely silent as we clear yet another massive solid fence at speed splashing speculators as we corner and gallop to applause.
Before I know it we are coming around to the final fence well within the time and no mistakes, and I have ridden both horses around clear, I am deeply satisfied, before Daniel this was the only sensation that satisfied me to my core, a deep physical distraction from an office life, I need it and love it. When Pete asks me later how my event went, all I can tell her as the automaton that I feel, is we came first and second individual and third as a team. I actually don't remember much at all really which is a little scary since the speed we must have ridden beating the next placed rider and horse by almost twelve seconds, in this type of event, that is a massive lead. But the rosettes are hanging in my lorry to attest to it, so believe it I do, Jinni cools down the boys untacks, rugs and loads them. Their bodies steaming from under their rugs as their warm bodies let off heat in the chilled air, their flanks moving up and down as they begin to relax their breathing. They have travel boots on all legs, the darted mini quilts protect and fit the bends of their legs, attach with long elastic Velcro straps. Jinni sits me in the passenger seat with a flask on my lap and a horse blanket over my knees, and drives us home, which in itself is unheard of, I never let anyone ride my horses and never, never, never let anyone drive them either.
I must have some trust issues.
Numb from the ears up, and completely exhausted, “it's the jet-lag Tharie,” she tells me, “You looked like you could use some sleep.” As we pull-up at home, I must have slept the whole way. “I sent a text to Liza you're safe home.”
We stop on the gravel, “it's not sleep I crave, it's Daniel,” I mumble quietly, Jinni doesn’t need to know about him, its horses with her, compartmentalise, that’s another thing I do. Exhausted I unload the boys into their stables. I give them big dinners with extra carrots chopped julienne, put their soft lightweight night rugs on, hang up all their tack and put away their tendon boots in the tackroom. I half-heartedly say thank you and goodnight to Jinni, and go straight to bed, not even hungry for a peanut butter sandwich or a cup of tea.
Must be bad.