“Hey, hello,” said André with a shy smile.
“Er . . . Hi!” Luke waved casually in Charni’s direction.
“And this is Ateeyah Ammani,” Colette continued. “She’s royalty, by the way.”
Ateeyah was wearing skinny jeans with a long embroidered cotton shirt in a soft turquoise, with a dark-green silk scarf around her neck. Despite her flat leather pumps, she was a whole head taller than Colette and as tall as André. Her long black hair hung straight and shiny down her back. With her huge, almond-shaped dark-brown eyes, she was breathtakingly beautiful.
She really does look like royalty, Nicky thought to herself. But surely Colette’s joking?
“Hi, pleased to meet you … um, should I say Princess Ateeyah?” asked André politely. “No, hang on, I remember now. It’s Maha … rani.” André had certainly learnt a lot since he’d moved to school in Cape Town – these days he was full of surprises. “Maharani Ateeyah,” André continued.
Nicky and Luke stared open-mouthed at this charming new André.
“Oh no, I’m just Ateeyah. But thanks anyway.” The beautiful girl smiled graciously.
“Howzit,” Luke managed to blurt out.
“Luke and André will be practising for the SAEF trials with us,” Colette told Charni and Ateeyah.
Colette and her two boarding school friends were planning on spending the first five days of the April holidays at Solitaire, doing their final preparations for the upcoming South African National Dressage and Showjumping competition.
“Is Jenny back yet?” Colette asked Luke.
“She’s been back for a week already. She’s going to make us work very hard,” Luke warned her.
Jenny Scott, Solitaire’s specialist trainer, was known throughout the country for the horse-and-rider finishing courses she ran on the farm. She’d just returned from a trainer’s course held at the world-famous Camelot Riding School outside London.
André and Luke would also be doing the finishing course with Jenny. André wanted to see if he could get his horse, Wild Hero, trained and finished well enough to qualify for the showjumping competition. The previous year, Luke, Colette and Nicky had all made it into the Western Cape provincial team. Luke, on Super Sam, had been the youngest rider ever to make the team.
“And this is my cute little cousin, Nicky. I’ve told you guys about her.” Colette sounded like a TV newsreader announcing some dramatic event, making it sound all serious and official: A typhoon has struck Haiti. A hurricane is heading for America. This is Nicky.
Think of something else . . . Nicky thought to herself.
“Hello, Nicky. I’m Charni.” Charni said loudly, overpronouncing her words as if Nicky was hard of hearing. As if to make quite sure Nicky understood her, Charni pressed her hand to her own chest.
“Pleased to meet you, Nicky,” whispered Ateeya, sounding sympathetic and slightly afraid of her.
Nicky couldn’t help but wonder what her cousin had told her friends. She was beginning to feel like Frankenstein’s monster and suddenly the taunting voice inside her head threatened to start up again. Her throat burnt and her hands were suddenly sweaty.
“What’s all this hanging around, doing nothing? You’re not at the movies, young ladies!” Uncle Peter came to Nicky’s rescue. “Come, come, let’s get these horses stabled.” He passed Duchess’s halter to Colette. “Take this, Colette.”
“Oh, allow me to be of service. I’m sure you ladies would first like to go and get fresh,” said André ever so graciously.
Nicky wanted to tell André that in English it was “freshen up” and that “get fresh” had a whole different meaning entirely, but she found she couldn’t utter a sound.
“Thanks, André, you’re a real gentleman,” Aunty Elinor said, smiling. “Girls, go and unpack your stuff and change into your riding gear. And I’m sure you must be hungry. My husband is not as scary as he’s trying to sound.”
“Jenny has set up the new course in the arena and wants to take you through it this afternoon already,” Uncle Peter called after the girls as they turned to walk off.
“Peter, really! Cut the girls some slack!” scolded Aunty Elinor. “They’ve just escaped from boarding school, you know.”
“What did they go and dress up like that for? They knew the horses had to be stabled when they got here.” Uncle Peter was unimpressed. “This is not a hotel – everyone has to pitch in.”
Charni and Ateeyah seemed a bit rattled by Uncle Peter’s stern words, but Colette took no notice of her father.
“Thanks, André, you’re too kind,” she said loftily, sounding like someone in a Jane Austen novel. She smiled and handed him Duchess’s halter. “Come along, girls!” she commanded her friends.
“You girls will be staying in the guest flat – we’ve recently converted the attic into a separate flatlet, and it’s all yours,” Aunty Elinor explained.
“Oh, Mom, you’re the best,” said Colette, hugging her mother. “Let’s go, girls!” she called as she got back into the Land Rover.
“Luke, André, Grandpa Solly, please help with our visitor’s horses,” asked Aunty Elinor. “I’ll take the girls back to the house in the Landy so they can get settled in. First things first!”
“I’m sure you can’t wait to meet Silver Max and Tango Girl,” Colette called through the car window. “Your moment is about to arrive!” She leant back in her seat and flicked her brown hair over her shoulder, looking like a soap-opera star in a limousine.
Luke and Grandpa Solly had heard a lot about the two horses that would be gracing Solitaire with their presence. It was true, they were curious about the new arrivals, and they headed eagerly for the horsebox. In the meantime, André walked Duchess to her stable, where her name decorated the blue door in elaborate white lettering.
Duchess was a dainty bay mare, fifteen hands high, and with Colette in the saddle they made the perfect advertisement for horses bred and trained by Solitaire Stud Farm. Duchess and Colette were a winning team in horsemanship; neat and nifty and always perfectly groomed.
* * *
Nicky watched as Aunty Elinor drove off with the high-school girls. She had noticed a playfulness and sense of fun between the friends. A sudden sharp pain shot through her heart, momentarily taking her breath away.
She should have been hanging out with them, but now no one even dared to speak to her. And when the two visitors had addressed her, it was as if they were talking to someone who was mentally challenged!
What good am I on a stud farm when I feel faint when a horse so much as sniffs at me? I don’t belong here any more, Nicky thought as she headed off, away from the horses and stables.
Grandpa Solly, André and Luke were all occupied with the visitors’ horses, and no one even noticed her leave.
6
A place to think
Nicky stormed straight past Ratu. The palomino was watching the field horses that were grazing in the big paddock behind the barn.
“Those horses can be mean. They’re still young and they love a fight, so best you stay out of their way,” Nicky warned Ratu as she entered the old barn.
Inside the big, dark space was the tack room,