Beginner's Luck (2 page)

Mrs Crook pulled up her four-wheel drive beside the
kerb outside Shelby's house and smiled at Shelby over
her shoulder.

'I should come and have a coffee. I don't know
your mum and dad very well,' she said.

Shelby knew Mrs Crook and all the parents from
Pony Club, but her own mother and father had never
been. Shelby thought Pony Club was just as much
about socialising for the parents as it was for the kids.
There was one couple who still came along every fortnight
even though their son had given up riding years
ago.

The other parents thought it was weird that
Shelby's family didn't go. She had overheard them
manufacturing their own theories, but the reality was
much less exciting. Shelby's parents didn't like horses
very much. Other than Shelby, they had two small
boys to look after and hobbies of their own. Shelby's
dad liked old cars, but that didn't mean the whole
family packed a picnic to go and watch him clambering
over the metal carcasses at the auto wreckers.

Hayley had her feet up on the dashboard and was
writing a text message on her mobile phone. 'See you
later, Shel,' she said. 'I'm going to stay here, Mum, so
don't take ages.'

Shelby had a vision of the state of their living room
– her brothers' toys lying all over the floor, video games
scattered about, and baskets of unfolded washing. Her
house wasn't dirty, just untidy most of the time. She'd
been to the Crooks' place. Everything matched, and it
was neat, like a furniture store showroom.

'No, it's OK. Thanks for the lift,' she said, opening
the door.

'I should at least say hello.' Mrs Crook stepped
out of the car.

As Shelby walked up the drive she noticed a stack
of metal by the side of the house. It was in sheets, and
looked almost exactly like her feed shed before her
parents had assembled it, except that this was older,
duller and dented.

The garage door was open and inside there were a
few bags of horse food. That was strange. Her parents
didn't let her keep feed near the house because it
attracted rats, and she hadn't asked them to buy any.
Usually they went to the produce store together, and
unloaded the bags and bales from the back of the car
straight into her shed at Blue's paddock.

Shelby's mother met them at the door. She was
wringing a tea towel in her hands.

'Hi, Mum. You remember Mrs Crook,' Shelby
said.

'Call me Jill, please. It's Maria, isn't it?' Mrs
Crook extended her hand.

'Just Marie.' Her mother took the offered hand,
with a tight smile, and pulled Shelby inside by the
shoulder. 'Thanks for bringing her home. It must be
out of your way.'

'Don't be silly. She's a doll. I thought I'd stop by
for a minute.'

Shelby's mum looked over her shoulder, down the
hall. 'Now's not a good time.'

'Oh?' said Mrs Crook, rising on the balls of her
feet to peer into the house.

There was an awkward silence.

'What's wrong, Mum?' Shelby asked. She hoped
that her parents and the Crooks would become
friends. She had a vision of her family going to the
Crooks' place for barbecues, and the Crooks coming
over for dinner. She and Hayley could hang out. It
would be cool.

'Can I help with anything?' Mrs Crook asked.

'No, it's . . .' Her mother wiped her hand across
her forehead. 'We've had some news. It's only just
happened. My husband and I haven't had a chance to
talk it over yet.'

'I'm sure I can help.' Mrs Crook stepped forward,
and Shelby's mother stood back, letting her into the
house.

Inside, Shelby's father was sitting at the dining
table with his arms folded over a piece of paper. Blue
was standing just outside the sliding glass door to the
back yard, with his eyes half closed. He had a halter
on upside down and draped over his ears like a bizarre
tiara.

'What's he doing here?' Shelby asked.

'That's the thing,' her mother said. 'Blue's been
evicted. They nearly took him to the pound, except
that one of the neighbours saw them pull up with a
float, and ran over to tell us, so we put him out the
back. We managed to salvage the shed too. They'd
knocked it down with the bulldozer, but they let us
pick up the parts before they put up the hurricane
fencing.'

'Who?' asked Mrs Crook.

'B&M Constructions Pty Ltd,' said Shelby's father,
consulting the piece of paper in front of him. 'Hereby
gives notice of intent to erect a Kensington on the site
known as Lot 21B Myrtle Circuit.'

'What's a Kensington?' asked Shelby.

'I think it's a house,' answered Shelby's mother.

'It is a house – two storey double brick, with
gallery style entrance hall, and optional billiard room.
We have a Kensington Regent,' replied Mrs Crook.

Shelby's mother moved into the kitchen. 'I'll put
some coffee on.'

'I have a friend who's a solicitor,' Mrs Crook
began, plonking into one of the dining chairs. 'The
shed has to be destruction of property, and then
there's trespass. There must be some kind of mix-up
with the zoning.'

Shelby's father shook his head. 'We're the trespassers.
When Shelby wanted a pony, there was half a
paddock there already, so we patched the fences a bit,
and put up a little shed. Blue arrived. Nobody complained,
until today.'

'I know a few of the councillors. Let me make
some calls. I'm sure you have rights. They have to give
you notice,' Mrs Crook said.

Shelby's father held the paper up and pointed to it.
'Here it is. Look, it says "Notice".'

The front door slammed. Hayley wandered up the
hall. She frowned as she saw Blue standing at the back
door. 'What's up?'

'I have to find somewhere else to keep Blue,'
Shelby replied.

'Bummer,' she said.

'You can keep him at the stables,' Mrs Crook said.
'That would be perfect. They have very good facilities.
They're not skimpy with the feed, like some places.
It's normally seventy or eighty dollars, but I'm sure we
can get you a discount.'

Her father sighed. 'Blue's paddock was free, so
eighty dollars a month is –'

'No, that's a week,' corrected Mrs Crook.

Shelby's parents exchanged a glance. 'We need to
talk about it,' said Shelby's father.

'You can't keep Blue in the back yard.' Mrs Crook
reached into her handbag and started to draw out
items and place them on the table in front of her – a
purse, a few lipsticks, a hanky – until finally she drew
out her mobile phone. 'You might be able to keep him
at the stables on a temporary basis. They have spelling
agistment too. You wouldn't get a stable but it's only
about thirty dollars. Let me call them now.'

'Thanks, Jill, but we really need to talk about it
first,' Shelby's mother said. 'As a family.'

'It's no trouble,' said Mrs Crook, punching
numbers into her mobile. 'I know Brenda Edel up at
the stables very well, and then we can organise the
float. I can take him over there this afternoon, if you'd
like.'

'Please, Jill, we –'

'They can't afford it, Mum,' interrupted Hayley.

Nobody said anything. Shelby's mother folded her
arms and leaned against the kitchen bench. Shelby's
father scratched the back of his neck. Outside, Blue
stamped at a fly.

'Hayley!' said Mrs Crook, breaking the uncomfortable
silence. 'You don't say things like that about
people!' She turned to Shelby's father. 'There are a few
other places around here. They might not have an
arena, or good fencing, but their prices are lower. And
if you go a bit further out . . .'

'Mum, they want to talk about it by themselves,'
Hayley said. 'That means without us.'

Mrs Crook stared at her daughter for a moment,
and then she looked around the faces at the table.

'Thank you so much for bringing Shelby home,'
said Shelby's mother.

Mrs Crook stood up, spinning her car keys around
her index finger. 'I might have that coffee another
time.'

Shelby wished her parents would change their
minds and let her stay. Mrs Crook could usually turn
a bad situation into something better than before,
whereas her parents were the sort of people who let
things happen to them. She knew what their solution
would be – surrender, don't make a fuss, move on.

They would make her sell Blue, or give him away.
They would tell her to take up something boring and
pointless, like totem tennis, or ping-pong.

'I'll do a bit of scouting about. Please don't be
embarrassed. We think of Shelby as part of the Crook
clan now.' Mrs Crook put her arm around Shelby's
shoulder and squeezed.

Her face was rosy-red, but it might have been
sunburn. Mrs Crook never wore sunscreen. She had
tanned skin that was the same texture as Shelby's
mum's handbag. Sometimes she wore a floral print
sun-visor, but Shelby thought that was more to keep
her hair out of her face.

Mrs C kept her arm around Shelby's shoulder all
the way down the hall. On the lawn she leaned in
close, talking in a low voice. 'I meant what I said in
there. You know you can call me any time. We'll sort
this out.'

Shelby nodded. 'Thanks, Mrs C.'

Mrs Crook meant well, but she bossed and bullied
to get her own way. Shelby didn't have the authority
to do that. She had to find a free home for Blue. That
meant she had to ask favours. Favours needed
subtlety, and she had no idea where to begin.

'Can't we keep Blue at the stables temporarily?' asked
Shelby. The Crooks had driven away, and Shelby had
returned to the dining room table.

'We? That's the funny thing, Shelby. When all is
well it's "my horse", but whenever something goes
wrong it's "we",' joked her father.

'Blue will have to stay in the back yard for the
time being,' her mother replied. 'But you have to find
somewhere new, otherwise . . .'

Shelby leaned back on her chair. 'Otherwise what?'

Shelby's mother traced circles on the dining room
table with her finger. 'The Crooks have three ponies.
I'm sure they'll let you ride whenever you want. You
had a great time at the show with them. Jill said you
went really well. Besides, you've said yourself that
Blue is a beginner's pony. Maybe there's some little girl
out there who can make use of him?'

Shelby blinked. She knew it would be like this.
'Next you'll be saying I should take up ping-pong!'

Her father leaned forward and slapped the table.
'What a fantastic idea! You never hear of ping-pong-related
quadriplegia. You can do it in the garage. We
won't have to drive you all over town. You can play
with your brothers. It will be good for their motor
skills.'

Shelby curled her lip.

'Don't knock it!' he said. 'Ping-pong is an Olympic
sport. You won't know you hate it until you try it.'

'I'm not playing ping-pong!'

They sat in silence for a moment. Shelby could
hear Connor and Blake chortling as they played in
their room. Outside, Blue stamped a hoof on the
pavers. He opened his blue eyes and looked at her
repentantly, as though he knew he was being talked
about.

'What about Aunt Jenny?' Shelby asked. 'She has
loads of money, and she's helped us before.'

'I think you've invaded Aunt Jenny's bank account
enough,' her father replied. 'You should be grateful
for what she's given you already.'

Shelby only ever saw her aunt at Christmas, and
she used to think Aunt Jenny was an old fuddy-duddy,
but last Christmas Shelby found out that Aunt Jenny
had horses when she was young too, and suddenly
she'd become much more interesting.

Her mother folded her arms. 'The way I see it
there are three options – one, and the most attractive,
is that you find another place that's free; two, you find
a place that's not free; or three, you sell Blue, or give
him away.'

Shelby sat up straight. 'Tell me more about option
two.'

Shelby's mother looked across the table at Dad. 'I
haven't talked about this with your father yet, and it's
a grown-ups' decision, so I don't want to hear any
nagging from you.' She took a deep breath. 'Blake is
old enough to start preschool now. It would be nice to
have a few extra dollars in the kitty. I could go back
to work.'

'Marie . . .' her father began.

'Yes!' cried Shelby. 'Can I keep him at the stables?'

'You
cannot
keep him at the stables.'

'Marie, going to work is something that you
should choose, when you're ready. We'll find a way to
manage. You remember how it was when Shelby was
small, and now there are two more children to worry
about.'

'I'd like to,' she said.

Shelby jumped up and kissed her. 'This is so cool.'

Her mother put her hand on Shelby's arm. 'If I do
this, there are some new rules. You must keep your
room clean at all times. You must help out with the
chores. Some things will become your responsibility,
and I expect them to be done without ever having to
ask. And you must look after your brothers after
school – that means being here inside the house until
I, or your father, come home. Do you understand?'

Shelby shrugged. 'No problem.' She usually rode in
the afternoons, but she could switch to the mornings.

'Are you sure? Because at the moment you wash
the dishes maybe once a fortnight, and you complain
about that. I'll need you to do the washing, the
ironing, the vacuuming, and the boy's lunches. You
might even need to cook dinner a few times a week.
This will mean doing at least twenty minutes of house
work every day – maybe even longer.'

Twenty minutes? Twenty minutes was nothing.

'I want you to promise me, Shelby.' Her mother
stared at her.

'I think we should have a trial run,' said her father.

Shelby rolled her eyes. 'We don't need to have a
trial. I'll start straightaway. I promise, OK?'