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Authors: Stacy Gregg

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BOOK: Riding Star
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“I don't believe it,” Alice winced. “It's Conrad.”

The players rode out and Georgie watched as Conrad and James, both dressed in their ice-blue polo shirts, came up the centre of the field in a rising canter. James's eyes raked the stands and when he caught sight of Georgie and Riley together his face turned dark. Conrad, meanwhile, rode straight up to the sidelines, raising his mallet to Georgie.

“Hey, Parker,” he shouted, “you wanna be my stick chick? Since you're not playing you might as well be holding my mallet!”

“You're a total numnah, Conrad!” Alice shouted back at him. “Leave her alone.”

“What's going on?” Riley said. “Who is that guy?”

“That's Conrad,” Alice said. “He's the one who pushed Georgie off her horse. He's the reason we're not playing.”

“What?” Riley was furious. “He pushed you off your horse?”

“Uh-huh,” Alice answered for her. “He's a jerk. He's been giving Georgie a hard time all term.”

“It's no big deal,” Georgie said. “Honestly, Riley.”

“Have you told the school about this? It sounds like he's bullying you!”

“I've tried to tell the teachers,” Georgie said, “but it only makes it worse.”

“Georgie! He can't behave like that! You should have told me—”

“This is why I didn't tell you! I knew you'd react like this.” Georgie shook her head. “Please, Riley, just leave it.”

Riley sat in the stands, his arms folded, eyes narrowed as he watched Conrad galloping up and down, waving his mallet like a poseur.

“Ohmygod!” Daisy said. “Check out Kennedy's outfit!”

On the sidelines where the spare Burghley House horses were ready and waiting for the next chukka, Kennedy was standing with Arden and Tori. The showjumperettes were all dressed in their school whites, but somehow Kennedy had managed to get hers altered. Her jersey was now almost two sizes too small and hugged her curves. Her school skirt had at least ten centimetres cut off the hemline so that it grazed the top of her thigh. She had her hair slicked back in a ponytail and was wearing gold sunglasses as she stood holding a mallet in her hands.

“A born stick chick!” Alice groaned.

“What's a stick chick?” Riley asked.

“A girl who hangs out with the polo boys and thinks it's a big thrill to hold their mallet for them,” Daisy said.

“So that Kennedy girl is Conrad's stick chick?” Riley asked.

“Uh-huh. She's Conrad's girlfriend.”

The chukka got underway and right from the start the game was evenly matched. The girls were shouting themselves hoarse cheering for Alex, Cameron and JP. The referee was right in the thick of it, but all the same Conrad tried his usual tricks. Georgie saw him totally cut off Cam and try to shove him when the ref wasn't looking. James, meanwhile, seemed to be deliberately targeting JP.

“Foul!” Georgie shouted as James shoulder-slammed JP off the ball. The score so far was one-all to Burghley – this was going to be close!

Riley looked at his watch and stood up. “Hey, Georgie, I'll be back in a minute, OK?”

“Huh?” Georgie looked up at him. “OK, sure.”

When the chukka came to a close the score was three-two to Luhmuhlen.

“Ohmygod!” Emily was bouncing up and down in her seat. “I can't believe Luhmuhlen have got the lead and—”

“Hey!” Alice looked over at the Burghley House team camp. “What is Riley doing? Why is he over there?”

Georgie looked over at the Burghley House riders who were now heading back to their camp to remount on fresh horses. She could see Kennedy, Arden and Tori and standing there talking to them was… Riley.

“Uh-oh,” Alice said. “I've got a bad feeling about this.”

“Ohmygod!” Georgie pushed past the girls, and ran down the steps of the grandstand and on to the polo field.

As she raced across the polo field she could see Riley talking to Kennedy. The head showjumperette was flirting madly with him, giggling and hair flicking for all she was worth. But Georgie knew that Riley wasn't really interested in Kennedy – he was just waiting for Conrad. Georgie could see him eyeing up the Burghley House captain as he dismounted and led his pony over to join his girlfriend.

“Riley!” Georgie shouted.

Riley looked up at her and smiled. “Hey, Georgie. I'll be with you in a second, I've just got to have a quick word with Kennedy's boyfriend.”

Smiling politely, Riley turned to Kennedy. “Can I have your mallet for a moment?”

He took the polo stick from her hands and walked straight up to the Burghley House head prefect. In one swift manoeuvre he shoved Conrad up against the wall of the polo shed, the mallet rammed into the cleft of his throat so that it was pressed up against his windpipe.

Choking and gasping, Conrad tried to push him away, but Riley was stronger than him and he held him pinned to the wall, while Kennedy and the showjumperettes watched in horror.

“You think you're tough, huh?” Riley said. “Hassling first-year girls and pushing them off their horses? That makes you a big man?”

“I… don't know what you're talking about…” Conrad managed to choke out the words.

“Oh, I think you do, Con-rad,” Riley spat out the prefect's name in two syllables. “But here's the thing. You can't bully me. I don't go to this school. You can't give me Fatigues for walking on some sissy patch of grass. You have no jurisdiction over me.”

“I didn't—” Conrad tried to speak, but Riley shushed him.

“I'm not here to argue with you, Conrad. I'm here to tell you that this ends now. If you so much as look at Georgie the wrong way again, I'll come after you and I'll take those shiny prefect's spurs that you're wearing and use them on you in ways you don't even want to think about. Now do you understand me?”

Conrad nodded and Riley suddenly released his grip on the Burghley House head prefect's throat. Conrad reeled back, wheezing and gasping. Riley handed the polo mallet back to a stunned Kennedy.

The other Burghley players had finally noticed the drama and James dismounted his horse and made a beeline for Riley.

“What are you doing here? I told you not to come to Blainford,” James said.

“Don't push your luck, James.” Riley shot him down. “I took it easy on Conrad – you might not be so lucky.”

For a brief moment James looked like he might have the guts to square up to Riley, but he just glared at him and then stormed off.

“Come on, Georgie,” Riley reached out to take her hand, “the next chukka is about to begin. Let's get back to our seats. I want to see Luhmuhlen whump these guys!”

Georgie was so shell-shocked she didn't say a word all the way back to the stands. She took her seat and watched with her friends as Conrad, white as a sheet, came back on the field for the second chukka. Luhmuhlen totally dominated the next three chukkas to win the game.

The other girls had been watching the whole drama from the stands. They said nothing to Riley about it, but after the game was over and they were back at the dorm they couldn't talk about anything else.

“It was just about the coolest thing I have ever seen,” Alice gushed. “The look on Conrad's face! And there's Kennedy just watching with her mouth hanging open.”

“I'm not a fan of violence,” Emily said, “but Alice is right – that was way, way cool!”

The true impact of what had happened on the field that day didn't sink in until Georgie was leaving the boarding house for dinner and found the brown paper package sitting on the doorstep addressed to her. She opened the brown wrapper up and looked inside.

Conrad must have had a word with his girlfriend. Kennedy had returned her Barbour.

I
n school assembly the following Monday morning the results from the Round Robin were announced. Four teams had played their way through to the semifinals, including JP, Alex and Cam's team.

Even though they'd been unable to play, the girls got a certain satisfaction from the sight of James and Conrad squirming in their seats as their Burghley House team was noted as being knocked out in the first round.

“The finals are being held on the school fields on Saturday,” Mrs Dickins-Thomson continued. “Please advise your parents if they are planning to come along that this is a day earlier than the original scheduled date to avoid clashing with the Bluegrass Cup being held in Frankfort on Sunday. I am sure that many of our budding polo stars will relish the opportunity to go along to watch the games in Frankfort so we've moved our finals to accommodate this. For those pupils who wish to attend the Bluegrass Cup, there will be a bus departing the school at nine am.”

“Are we planning to go?” Emily asked as they left assembly on their way to Ms Schmidt's German class.

“I saw a poster for it in town,” Georgie said. “It seems like it's a big deal.”

“It's a big competition,” Alice said. “I went last year with Kendal and Cherry. There're lots of games for all the different goal rankings. There's a qualifier on Saturday and then the finals on the Sunday.”

“We should go and watch,” Emily said. “We might pick up some pointers.”

“Forget going to watch,” Daisy said. “We should go and play.”

The others stopped in their tracks.

“Are you serious?” Alice said.

“Why not?” Daisy said. “It's a competition for different goal rankings, right? We're all minus-two players so we'd be at the bottom of the league – it's not like we'd be up against the hardcore ten-goalers.”

“Even if we're playing low grade,” Emily said, “these aren't school games. These are grown-ups with proper teams and strings of expensive ponies paid for by wealthy patrons.”

“It's still polo,” Daisy said. “We know how to play and we've got the string. The ponies are ready for it.”

“She's got a point,” Alice agreed. “We could enter.”

“Aren't we supposed to be at the finals of the Round Robin on Saturday though?” Emily said. “And that's when the Bluegrass Qualifier takes place.”

“We could always wriggle out of the Round Robin somehow,” Daisy said. “It's not like we're actually playing.”

“I dunno,” Emily said, “what do you think, Georgie?”

“Come on, Georgie,” Daisy said. “Are we in?”

Georgie didn't know what to say. When Mrs Dickins-Thomson had turfed the girls' team out of the Round Robin it had been such a miserable anticlimax after all their hard work. She had tried not to let it get to her, but she'd taken it hard. Now they had a chance to prove themselves, not just against their Blainford rivals, but against real polo players. It was too good to be true.

“We're in,” Georgie said. “Let's go play ourselves some polo.”

*

Before dawn on Saturday morning, when the boarders and the teachers were all still sleeping, two horse trucks entered the gates of the Blainford Academy and drove along the driveway, turning left to pull up outside the Burghley House stables.

Georgie was standing waiting in the darkness for their arrival. She directed the first truck down the side of the stables and then directed the second truck to park right beside it.

Riley jumped out of the cab. “Are you ready to go?” he called out to her.

“Shhh!” Georgie put a finger to her lips. “We're trying not to wake anyone, remember?”

“Where are the horses?” Riley whispered.

“The girls are just putting their trucking boots on,” Georgie said. “And then we can get out of here. Could you help me to carry some saddles?”

“Sure.”

As they headed into the stables to get the tack, the door of the second truck cab swung open and a skinny, hunched man wearing a trucker's cap leapt out.

“Need some help with your gear, ma'am?”

“Thanks, Kenny,” Georgie smiled at him.

“No problem,” Kenny said. Or at least that was what Georgie thought he said. Kenny always had his mouth so full of chewing tobacco that it was impossible to understand a word he was saying. He was Riley's uncle and he worked right here at Blainford as the school's caretaker.

“The thing is, Kenny,” Georgie began to explain, “we're not really supposed to be going off school grounds. I don't want you to get into trouble by helping us.”

The girls had considered their options when it came to entering the Bluegrass Cup Qualifier. They could confess all to Mrs Dickins-Thomson and ask for official school permission to attend, but none of them fancied their chances. Far better to bunk off during the Round Robin and go rogue.

“No one will notice if we're not there,” Alice reasoned. “Kendal and the others will cover for us at breakfast if anyone asks where we are.”

“We need to be out of here before dawn so no one sees us leaving,” Georgie said.

Alice agreed. “It'd be pretty hard explaining where you were going with sixteen horses!”

Riley offered to help them straight away – but with sixteen horses to transport it would take two trucks. And that was where Kenny came in.

“I don't want to get you into trouble, Kenny,” Georgie said as he lowered the truck ramp. “If we get caught, you might lose your job or something.”

Kenny chewed thoughtfully on his tobacco. “The wife would love that,” he said. “Then I'd have the time to build that chicken coop she's been nagging me about.”

He grinned at Georgie and she saw the brown bits of chewing tobacco stuck to his teeth. “Now, which horses are we putting on this one, and where are we headin'?”

Georgie smiled. “Take us to the Bluegrass Cup!”

*

As they drove through the gates of the academy, it suddenly struck Georgie that they were wilfully disobeying Blainford rules by leaving the school. More than that, they were taking sixteen horses with them! This was not a casual disobedience, like walking on the quad. If they were caught, she didn't even want to think about the trouble they would be in. She felt match-day nerves grip her, twisting a knot in her tummy.

As they rolled in at 6am the polo grounds were already busy. Many of the teams had arrived the day before, and slept in their trucks overnight. Their ponies were kept penned in the yards beside them and the grooms were hard at work mucking out, feeding and watering. Georgie watched one groom working three ponies at once, mounted up on one and leading two others alongside her. The ponies were all immaculate, well-muscled with tails professionally taped and tack polished to perfection. The groom wore a shirt emblazoned with her patron's logo. Many of these teams playing today had corporate sponsors who had spent hundreds of thousands of dollars to buy the best ponies and players. The sponsors had their own marquees along the sidelines of the four polo fields where the action would take place.

As Riley eased the truck past the wash bays and parked in a vacant space, Georgie reached down beneath the seat of the truck and pulled out a piece of paper.

“Is that the schedule? What time do we play?” Daisy asked.

“Our game is at nine.”

Kenny parked his truck alongside Riley and the riders all jumped out and dropped the ramps ready to unload.

“I'll go to the office and check on our registration,” Alice offered. She strode off across the field.

“Let's get started,” Georgie said. “We've got sixteen horses to bandage and tails to put up.”

“We're taping tails, remember,” Daisy instructed Georgie and Emily. “No Argie knots today – this is competition standard.”

The girls busied themselves doing the legs, taking off the trucking boots and replacing them with polo wraps while Riley and Kenny unloaded all the tack from the trucks.

“We so badly need grooms!” Daisy looked over enviously at the trucks where the polo players were lounging about and chatting over their coffee.

“This is a crew ship, Daisy, not a luxury liner,” Georgie sighed.

“It's not a luxury – we need them,” Daisy pointed out. “Who's going to keep the ponies warm, hang on to our sticks and run the pony lines for us between chukkas?”

“Me and Kenny will cope,” Riley said. “We know the drill.”

“We'll saddle our first two ponies up to save time,” Georgie explained to Daisy and Emily. “When we come off after the first chukka, Riley and Kenny will take the saddles off our ponies and swap them on to the ones we're riding in the third chukka. Then they'll ride up the pony lines to warm up and have them standing by ready for us as we come off the field.

“Which field are you on?” Riley asked.

“I don't know yet,” Georgie said. “Here comes Alice,” Emily said. “Let's see what she's found out.”

“Ohmygod!” Alice had arrived back from the registration tent and she looked totally psyched.

“I was just at the registration table signing us up and Adolfo Cambiaso was queuing right behind me! He is, like, a polo god! A ten-goal player. And he spoke to me!”

“What did he say?” Emily looked amazed.

“He said, ‘Are you in the right queue? This one is for the players.' I told him I was a player, but I don't think he believed me.”

Emily looked nervous. “We're not playing against him are we? Because that would be, like, insane.”

Alice shook her head. “We're in the low grade league, up against the Versailles Cavaliers. They're a varsity team.”

“What's varsity?” Emily asked.

“Like university, only American,” Daisy explained.

“Does that mean they're older than us?”

“Look around, Emily,” Alice said. “The grass here is older than us.”

“So what field are we on?” Georgie asked Alice. “Number three – the one over there underneath the trees. The game starts at eight-thirty.”

“Eight-thirty?” Georgie squeaked. “I thought it was nine.”

Alice shrugged. “Not on the schedule in the tent it isn't.”

“What's the time now?” Georgie asked.

“Seven-fifteen,” Riley replied.

“Less talk and more bandaging!” Georgie said. “We need all of these ponies ready in one hour.”

By eight-fifteen the girls had their ponies saddled and ready on the sidelines of field number three, that was where they got their first glimpse of the Cavaliers.

“You're kidding me!” Emily said. “We're up against them?”

The Cavaliers were fully grown men with broad shoulders and legs that were so long they could have powered the ponies along with their feet.

“Well what did you expect?” Daisy said matter-of- factly. “This is an open league game.”

Emily groaned. “They're going to cream us.”

“They are if you think negatively like that,” Alice snapped at her. “I didn't smuggle sixteen horses out of Blainford Academy so that I could go down in the first round!”

“Our size is our advantage,” Georgie insisted. “These guys won't rate us as competition. They certainly won't consider us to be a threat. But we're small and we're fast. If we play an attacking game right from the start, before they know what's hit them we can get some points on the board.”

“Uh, question?” Daisy raised her hand. “We're all talking tactics, but someone actually has to run the show once we're on the field, right?”

“You mean a captain?” Alice asked.

Daisy nodded. “I think it should be Georgie. She knows the rule book back to front.”

“But Alice is the better player,” Georgie said.

“No,” Alice shook her head. “You should be our captain, Georgie. You're better at making the calls and besides, you started all of this.”

“Totally,” Emily agreed, doing a mock salute. “Ready for your orders, captain.”

*

As the girls took to the field they looked absurdly out of place lining up against men who were twice their size. The Cavaliers captain in the number one jersey took one look at his competition and raised his mallet to appeal to the referee.

“Hey, ref! Who rostered us on to play a bunch of girls?” he demanded. “Call the organisers over to sort this out!”

Georgie cantered up to the Cavaliers captain. “There's nothing to sort out. You're supposed to be playing us.”

“I'm not playing with girls.”

“What are you, five years old? Of course you're playing us. Unless you want to forfeit the game.”

“Yeah,” Alice shouted out, backing her up. “We're here to play, so let's play.”

The Cavaliers captain turned to the referee. “This is a joke!”

“Well, I'm not laughing and neither are they,” the referee responded. “Come on, you're holding up play. Let's get this game started.”

As the bell sounded the Badminton girls leaped straight into action, Georgie winning the throw-in and sending a shot blasting through the players towards Daisy in centre field. Before the Cavaliers could even mount an attack, Alice was up at Daisy's side to receive the pass. There were two Cavaliers close on her tail, but she stayed focused and cantered up on Desiray to take a shot at the goal with a powerful forehand swing. The ball shot straight between the posts. Badminton had their first points on the board after less than a minute of play!

Shocked by this sudden goal the Cavaliers tried to regroup, but they had no idea how to deal with this pack of young players. The girls were small and swift and made the men look like they were laden with sandbags.

Alice, Emily and Daisy had chosen Dupree ponies for the first chukka, but Georgie had decided to ride Belle as the mare was quick on the break and utterly fearless.

BOOK: Riding Star
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