Greener Pastures Read online

  The bell for the next class rang and the two girls closed their books and packed their things.

  'You don't smell,' Shelby assured her as she slung her backpack over her shoulder. 'What do we have now?'

  'Art,' Erin groaned.

  As they headed along the hallway Shelby saw Lydia. The two girls fell into step with her.

  'Hey, how is Chance doing?' Shelby asked, talking loudly over the hubbub in the corridor.

  Lydia grinned. 'He's fine! He's great actually. After you left the other day Dr Ross came out. You were right about the clippings. He said not to give them to him as well.'

  'That's a relief,' Shelby said.

  They climbed the stairs to the art rooms. Erin walked inside. Shelby stayed outside with Lydia for a moment more as all the other students filed into class behind her.

  'Anyway, Dr Ross got a proper farrier out to put some shoes on him, and we've got some medication to put in his feed and now he's fine again. I don't have any troubles making him go.'

  'You rode him?'

  Lydia nodded. 'Just around the paddock for now. Dr Ross said I could start taking him out maybe in a few weeks.'

  'Weeks? But Clint said –'

  Lydia lifted her chin. 'Yeah, well, my dad said that Clint guy is just trying to create business for himself. After all, Dr Ross is a vet. You know, with a degree? So who is going to know more?'

  Shelby's Art teacher poked her head out of the door. 'Will you be joining us, Miss Shaw?'

  'Yes, Miss. Just one second.' She turned back to Lydia. 'Remember that if you're giving him painkillers he won't know that he's lame.'

  'That's kind of the point, isn't it?' Lydia said.

  'Yeah, but just because he doesn't know he's lame doesn't mean that he isn't lame,' Shelby went on.

  'Don't worry,' Lydia said, walking backwards down the hall. 'I know you were trying to help, and you did help, in a roundabout way.'

  'No problem. We should go on that ride together when he's better.' Shelby hurried in to class and took her seat. She was worried. In her experience things that sounded too good to be true usually were.

  18 Prince Blue

  Shelby had been anxious about visiting Zeb, Molly and Keisha, but when she arrived that afternoon it was business as usual, and she realised that it had only been a week since she had been there last – not a long time in the scheme of things.

  She was also nervous about seeing Chad, but he wasn't there. Molly told her that Chad had come over for a riding lesson the day before, and he'd mentioned going to visit his brother up the coast.

  Keisha greeted her warmly. It was obvious that she had no idea that Shelby had been avoiding them. The first thing she wanted to do was show Shelby the new horse that had arrived a few days before.

  Shelby had never seen anything like it. It seemed to be a cross between a Welsh Cob and a Clydesdale, but with striking black and white splotches. It had a long, thick mane and massive feathers covering its hooves.

  'It's a Gypsy Vanner,' Keisha explained. 'Also called an Irish Tinker. There are only about two dozen in this country. We're just calling him Tink at the moment, until we can think of a better name.'

  'Wow, he's amazing. What are you going to do with him?' Shelby asked.

  Keisha shrugged. 'We'll put him in the show, but we haven't had a chance to work with him yet.'

  Soon Zeb came out of the shed with several buckets in his hands. When he saw Shelby he beamed.

  'You going to sell me that horse now?' he called out.

  'I told you no already,' she said.

  'Look around. This is a nice place.'

  Shelby looked around as though she was seeing the place for the first time, and she realised that it was a horse zoo. Zeb was an enthusiast of odd breeds and curious colours. He collected horses like some people collected stamps.

  But despite the size of the offer, and the knowledge of the home he would go to, Shelby realised she could never sell Blue to Zeb.

  A rare horse had been there for almost a week and Zeb hadn't had a chance to work with him yet. If Tink wasn't special enough to spend time with, where did that leave a funny old thing like Blue?

  'Blue would just be another horse to you. He needs to belong to someone who treats him like he's the only horse in the world.'

  'Ah! Prince Blue,' Zeb said.

  'Exactly.'

  'He would be Prince Blue here. We'll knock a hole in one of the walls up there. He can have a bedroom in the house. Or he can share with Keisha. She could peel him grapes.'

  Keisha laughed.

  'Blue doesn't like grapes,' Shelby retorted.

  'You're just holding out for a bigger price.'

  'I can't do it.' Shelby shook her head. 'It's not right. Blue needs someone who adores him.'

  Soon afterwards she rode Blue home again across the Gully. As they splashed through the causeway at the bottom she sighed. 'Back to square one again, aren't we?'

  19 Dandelion Flat

  Her mother popped her head around the bathroom door as Shelby brushed her teeth. 'You don't have to go to school today.'

  'Oh?' Shelby said.

  'No, your father is going up the coast to pick up Aunty Jenny. She's flying out the day after tomorrow. We're taking her to the airport.'

  'What?'

  Her mother stared at her. 'You've known about this for months, Shelby, and yet you keep acting as if we've sprung it on you.'

  'I didn't know it was going to be now,' Shelby said.

  Her mother continued. 'We thought you might like go along today and see the agistment place before your dad collects your aunty and all the luggage.'

  Shelby stopped brushing. 'The stupid camel club?'

  When her great-aunt had first mentioned her trip overseas she said that she had found an agistment centre near to her house that would be able to take Blue when they moved. She'd told Shelby they had camel rides over the sand dunes. Shelby wasn't impressed.

  'I don't think that's what they officially call themselves,' her mother replied. 'I think it's something flat. A weed. Thistle Flat? That's not it.' She shrugged. 'I'm sure you'll find out soon enough.'

  It was good that they were making this trip, now that Shelby had decided to keep Blue again. If she had to move, she wanted to see the place first.

  Back in her room, Shelby changed into jeans and her favourite horsy tee-shirt that she got half price with the last pair of jod boots that her parents had bought for her. She used to like the bright-coloured ones that had pictures of horses on them, but now she preferred the more subtle ones that had a brand name on the chest, or maybe a small horse motif. That way other horsy people would know. It was more like a wink than a high-five.

  When she traipsed down the hallway with her shoelaces untied her dad handed her a stack of toast slices with Vegemite that he had made. He also had two mugs – one filled with coffee and one with milky tea and sugar for Shelby. It was unusual for them to have a car picnic. Her dad was fastidious about his upholstery.

  She balanced the toast on her knee while she fastened her seatbelt, and then her father handed her the two mugs while he backed out of the driveway. He waved to Blake, who was watching them through the front window.

  'I have to warn you,' her father said as they drove along, 'there'll be boxes when you get home.'

  'Boxes?'

  'Big cardboard tea chests. For packing. They're being delivered today.'

  'Oh.' Shelby curled her feet up underneath her and leaned her head against the seat back. She felt like crying again but after yesterday she had no more tears left. She was exhausted. 'I guess it's too late for me to try to talk you out of it then.'

  They stopped at a set of traffic lights. He took the coffee from her and slurped. 'It's not forever, Shel. You'll be amazed how quickly the time passes. You never know, you might even like the new stables better.'

  'I don't think I will,' she said wearily.

  He watched her for a moment, slurping. Then the light turned green. He thr
ew back the rest of his coffee in one gulp and handed her the empty mug. 'I don't do "listen to me because I'm old" very much, but now I think I will. In my life there have been a whole lot of things that I did reluctantly and they've ended up being the best decisions I ever made. Like you, for example.'

  'Me?'

  'That's right,' her father continued. It started to sprinkle and he switched on the wipers. 'Your mother was ready to have babies but I was petrified. I didn't think we were ready. Our house wasn't big enough. I wasn't earning enough money. We were too young. But then as soon as I saw you I was so completely entranced I knew right then we had to have more as soon as possible.'

  'I'm like that with ponies,' Shelby remarked, munching on another piece of toast.

  She had trouble picturing what her parents must have been like before they had kids. Looking after her and her brothers seemed to be a full-time occupation. It was hard to imagine them doing anything else.

  'What I'm trying to tell you is that if you always wait for the best time then you might never end up doing anything. I'm older than you, and I know that even the most brilliant things in the world come with some measure of inconvenience. That's just the way it is.'

  Shelby stared out the window. Drops speckled the glass pane. She sipped her tea.

  'Besides, you might find that you grow out of ponies, honey,' he added.

  She bristled, but she didn't reply.

  Her dad didn't say anything for a long time. He was busy concentrating as he wended his way through the early morning commuter traffic and on to the freeway.

  Shelby realised that in his way, he had been trying to make her feel better about the trip, but she also felt he was trying to make himself feel better by making her more positive, and she thought that was unfair. Maybe he was right. Maybe in ten years time she would look back on this overseas trip and think it was the best thing ever. Perhaps she would recall her 'pony phase' fondly, but she didn't feel that way now.

  Shelby shook her head. 'You're older than me, Dad, and you know heaps more things, but I know for certain that I'm not going to like the new place better and I'm never going to grow out of ponies.'

  'Well, I admire your commitment.' He sighed.

  When she finished her tea she slipped the two mugs on the floor and then rested her head on her arm and snoozed. Every now and then she would peer out the rainy window at the tall rock cuttings or the glimpses out the mouth of the Hawkesbury River. The views over the bushland were striking, but she knew there weren't any horses to see until they had passed the Ourimbah exit, so she decided to doze until then.

  The next time she opened her eyes they were taking the turn-off towards her great-aunt's place. There were long stretches of scrub and the occasional house. On the right side of the road she saw paddocks filled with black cows grazing. A whole group of them lay under a tree, chewing cud. In the next paddock were a few mares with foals. She stretched her arms and yawned.

  Her dad consulted a piece of paper from his shirt pocket, murmuring directions to himself. They passed a cross street and her dad stopped in the middle of the road. 'Was that . . .? Hmm.' He reversed and turned into the street.

  'Two nine three,' he mumbled.

  'It's probably rural numbering,' she said. 'It will be almost three kilometres.'

  'Really?' he asked.

  She nodded. 'It's for the fire brigade. So they can find places easily when there's an emergency.'

  'What a great idea!' he said. 'Let's see if you're right.' He pressed the knob to wind the odometer back to zero and they drove on.

  At the side of a house Shelby saw some jump wings and a lady lunging a big chestnut horse. In the paddocks opposite there were some ponies in white cotton rugs. Lots of other horsy people around here then, she thought to herself.

  'That's one and a half,' her dad said.

  There was a wide grassy verge on either side of the road. In the distance there were sand dunes rising up out of the bush. Will I ride along there one day? she wondered. One day wasn't even that far away. It could be as close as a few weeks. She had a churning feeling in her stomach at the thought.

  'Two and a half,' he said.

  'There.' She pointed ahead. It was hard to miss. At the front of the property, on either side of the driveway were paddocks surrounded by fences with flaky white paint. They were unremarkable, but behind them, next to the buildings, there was a paddock with high, wire fences, and standing inside were about eight camels.

  As they got closer Shelby could see some of the wire sagged and part of it seemed to be barbed wire. She curled her lip.

  There was a wagon wheel hung on the front gate and a rusty sign hanging above it.

  '"Dandelion Flat",' her father read. '"Camel and pony rides, holiday camps, lessons and agistment. Strictly no dogs."'

  20 The Stupid Camel Club

  Shelby's dad pulled into the car parking space next to the house. Nearby was a round yard. It was lined with rubber and she peeked over the fence at the sand.

  'Hmm.'

  'What?' her father asked.

  'Bit small,' she said, folding her arms.

  'You will keep an open mind about this place, won't you, Shelby?' he asked.

  'My mind is so open that flies are getting in,' she retorted.

  On the other side of the car park there was a door with a wooden sign that said 'Office'. It was obviously the back room of the house. They knocked and peered in the door, but nobody was there.

  Next to the round yard was a tack shed. Shelby wandered inside. There were maybe twenty or so saddles on pegs on the wall, and a mess of halters and bridles stuck on nails. It wasn't nearly as well organised as the Edels' tack room.

  At the other side there were metal and leather contraptions that she had never seen before. She decided they must be the camel saddles.

  On the opposite side of the tack shed to the round yard there was a slab of concrete and a hose reel that she supposed was their wash-bay, and next to that a dressage-sized arena. No sand, though – just dirt. And they didn't even have the letters marked out. The only way she could tell it was an arena was because there were ruts in the ground in circles.

  On the far side of the arena was a series of wooden yards maybe three or four metres square, similar to the ones they had at the Gully Pony Club.

  'Yards. See?' her dad said.

  'No shade,' she grumbled.

  She heard a muffled thump that she recognised. It sounded like a bale of hay rolling off a stack and landing on the feed shed floor. They walked towards the sound, which was coming from another shed at the back of the house. There were roller doors on either side, and she could see through to a block of stables. Shelby had to admit that it was a good set-up. The feed truck could back straight into the shed and then you could carry the feeds under a breezeway directly to the stables without getting wet. She would have something like that at her place, she decided.

  'Hello?' her dad called out.

  'Hi!' a voice answered.

  A young woman bounced out of the door. Her face was flushed and wisps of hair had escaped from her red plaits.