Chances Page 3

  Besides, I didn’t like the idea of leaving Mum alone.

  I lean against the fence and admire the horses. Although I haven’t ridden for ages I’ve read enough magazines to know that these ones are seriously expensive. Well muscled and sleek, they look every inch pampered athletes and I can just imagine them leaping huge ditches as they gallop across country or perhaps doing a perfect collected canter around the dressage arena. Their tack room must be smothered with rosettes.

  Malcolm Lacey’s daughter is one lucky girl.

  Gradually the horses notice me and wander over on the off chance I might have some treats. The big grey nudges my pockets hopefully while the small bay thoroughbred stamps his hoof with impatience.

  “I haven’t got anything,” I tell them, as I scratch necks and blow into velvet soft noses. Maybe next time I’ll bring some Polos or a crust of bread? Not that there will probably be a next time. With any luck I’ll be back home soon.

  I’m so busy patting the horses and loving the velvet texture of their clipped coats beneath my fingertips that I almost leap into orbit when there’s a thunder of hooves and two riders come cantering along the path. The horses I’m petting spin around and squeal before kicking up their hooves and galloping away with shrill whinnies. Flattening myself against the fence I prepare to be well and truly squashed by the blonde girl bearing down on me at alarming speed.

  “Slow down, Emily!” shouts the second rider. “And soften your hands! That gag is on the bottom ring!”

  Oh my flipping life. It’s Drake Owen. It really, really is and he’s even better looking in real life. Forget any member of One Direction or male model types. They’d never look as good in cream breeches, black boots and crimson hoody as Drake does. All those magazine articles haven’t done him justice.

  Emily yanks her horse to a halt and egg white foam flies through the air. I glance at her hands and shudder. Drake’s right, she’s holding the reins far too tightly and her fingers are set like concrete. That poor horse.

  “What the Hell do you think you’re doing?” she demands, glaring down at me with eyes like glaciers. “This is private land and you’re trespassing! And get away from my horses!”

  Trespassing? I’m a taken aback. Kate doesn’t seem the kind to trespass and she’s worn a path right to the big house.

  “Whatever,” I say.

  Emily’s eyes narrow. “Are you a gypsy?”

  I look down at my long tasseled skirt and wellies. Add to this my dyed black hair, thick eyeliner and hooped earrings and I can see where she’s coming from. This look works in Bristol but obviously country bumpkins don’t get it. Perhaps I should have worn a smock, chewed some straw and said, “Ooo ah”?

  “I’m sick of you lot,” Emily continues without waiting for my reply. She’s way too busy delving into the pocket of her Toggi jacket and pulling out a brand new iPhone to care what I might say. “I’ll give you two minutes to get off my land or I’m calling the police.”

  Wow. I’ve not even been here twenty-four hours and already the law is being called out on my behalf? Kate will freak and I’ll be sent home. Excellent!

  I put my hands on my hips. “Go on then. Call them if you want.”

  “Actually, Emily, she isn’t trespassing,” Drake Owen says. Reins held loosely in one hand as his horse prances and sidles, he points towards a wooden sign at the entrance of the woods. “This is a public footpath. Anyone can walk along it. Besides, she isn’t doing any harm.”

  Emily’s top lip curls. God, I hope I don’t look constipated like that when I sneer. Maybe all those teachers had a point after all? It’s really not a great look.

  “Why are you sticking up for her?”

  “Because she hasn’t done anything wrong,” Drake says calmly. “She’s on a public foot path.”

  “A foot path on my father’s land!”

  “It’s still a public foot path and she’s perfectly entitled to use it.”

  Emily looks from Drake to me and back again. Her eyes glitter with anger.

  “Keep away from my horses,” she hisses, pointing her whip at me. Then she digs her heels into her mount’s flanks and gallops away while I squash myself against the fence and fear for my toes.

  Drake Owen exhales wearily and soothes his own horse as it snatches the reins in eagerness to tear after its companion.

  “I’m really sorry about that,” he says. “Emily can be a fiery but she doesn’t mean it. She’s all right really.”

  Aren’t men thick where pretty girls are concerned? Emily totally meant it. And as for fiery? Can’t say that’s my adjective of choice. The one I’d have chosen is cow.

  “I was only looking at the horses,” I explain, still stunned to be face to face with one of my equestrian idols. “I wasn’t feeding them or anything like that. It’s just that they’re so beautiful…”

  My words tail off miserably. Nice one Amber. Who goes around mooning over horses at your age? He must think you’re a total sad case.

  But to the contrary, Drake treats me to a cute and dimpled grin.

  “You’re so right, they are beautiful. I could spend hours looking them. See that bay, Monty? He’s only just come sound after being lame for six months. Believe me I can’t get enough of watching him now! That horse could jump the moon he’s got so much heart.”

  I smile back because the delight in his voice is catching. Just as well Dogood can’t see me. She’d pop a blood vessel if she knew Amber Evans could smile.

  “He’s stunning,” I say.

  “He is, isn’t he?” agrees Drake. “God, that probably sounds terribly boastful but I really do love that horse. He gave me my first ride round Badminton and believe me he did it all. I just clung on and prayed!”

  I laugh. “I saw you ride that course and I think you did a bit more than cling on. Didn’t you win?”

  Beneath his jockey skull Drake blushes. “Err, maybe, but Monty’s taught me a lot. Even though he’s retired now there’s life in him yet.”

  “He’s lovely,” I agree and we smile shyly at each other.

  “Anyway, I guess I’d better catch up. Sorry again about Emily,” Drake says eventually, when we’ve stopped grinning at each other like idiots. “Enjoy the rest of your walk and feel free to stroke Monty any time you like. And if you pop by again he loves carrots!”

  I watch him canter away after Emily, popping the horse effortlessly over the big gate into the woods. Wow. What a rider. And what a gorgeous guy too. It’s such a shame he’s with that horrible Emily. What on earth does he see in somebody like her? Apart from money, stunning looks and amazing horses of course. I guess some people really do have it all, just like some people really do have nothing.

  Even though I don’t plan to stay here long I really hope I don’t come across Emily Lacey again in a hurry. Something tells me she’s the type to hold a grudge.

  Chapter 4

  It might not even be registration time yet but I already know Perran Community Academy and myself are not going to get on and that all Dogood’s nonsense about a new start is exactly that: nonsense.

  Things are going to be just as bad here as they are at my own school. In fact, forget just as bad; they’re going to be even worse. At least back at my own school people give me a wide berth, staff as well as kids, and I know exactly how the system works. Coming from the Shakespeare Estate is a bit like wearing a suit of armour so most kids keep their distance, probably thinking I’m going to set my pit bull on them or something, and when I do attend I generally make it through the day.

  Take it from me; surviving school is tough and I’ve no idea why ITV bothers flying celebrities out to Australia. If they really want to watch Z listers suffer why not drop them into the average British comp? There they can have their eyes taken out by monster rucksacks as they brave the Year Seven corridor stampede, fight to the death for a place in the lunch queue crush and negotiate the shark infested waters of student cliques. Even Bear Grylls would be in tears.

  All
this before you’ve even tried to figure out which exam syllabus they use or have sussed out the teachers…

  And talking of my new teachers, I didn’t even manage to find my way to my form room – predictably sent the wrong way by the person I’d asked – before one of them had a go at me about my lack of blazer. He didn’t even let me draw breath to explain I was new or that I have a note but instead handed me a red slip and told me to report to him at lunchtime for a detention. He didn’t like it much when I screwed the slip up and threw it on the floor and liked it even less when I walked away mid lecture. And all this before registration too. I’d say that’s even a record by my standards. Hopefully I’ll be excluded by lunchtime, Kate will admit defeat and I’ll be back in Bristol by the weekend.

  Now, that’s what I’d call a result.

  Anyway, this starting a new school business is totally brutal but I know exactly what to expect and it’s comforting in a weird kind of a way to not be disappointed. I might be hundreds of miles away from my usual school but some things are depressingly familiar the world over. Teachers always take one look at me with my not quite right uniform, dyed hair and nose stud and label me trouble before I’ve even made it to my desk. Why should this dump should be any different just because it’s in the sticks?

  “Have a great day, love,” were Kate’s parting words when she dropped me at the school gate and it was all I could do not to shoot back a sarcastic reply. Only the agreement I’d struck with Harry kept me quiet but honestly, a great day? Was she for real? I was willing to bet Daniel had a better time stepping into the lions’ den than I was about to have at my new school.

  It had been weird waking up in the attic bedroom and as the sun poured through the curtains my heavy eyes were gritty from lack of sleep. I’d taken ages to drop off, not because I was nervous but mainly because my brain was busy trying to work out just how soon I could get home again and I felt on edge because the place was just so quiet. When you’re used to the rumble of traffic, wail of sirens and yelling neighbours it’s weird to hear nothing but hooting owls and the distant sound of waves. It was dark too, a thick blackness that I’d never experienced before and I’d lain staring into the darkness, the duvet pulled up to my chin and jumping out of my skin every time a fox shrieked. When the door creaked open and Saffy padded across the floorboards to press a cold nose into my hand, I cried out. The sound of my own voice was shockingly loud in the silence. Once she leapt onto the bed, though, I began to relax. Used to Scally lying across my legs every night I could almost believe this heavy weight was my own dog and that I was curled up on my sofa bed with Mum fast asleep in her small bedroom.

  My mum. I’d really hoped that she was asleep. It wouldn’t be quiet where she was, I knew that much. I’d visited her on the wards enough times to have heard the shouting, the clanging doors and…

  Anyway. Mum needed me to care for her and I had to get back. Had to. I couldn’t get distracted by horses or Drake Owen or any pathetic dreams I might have about riding again. That all belonged to a different life, the one where Dad was still on the scene and there were two of us to worry about Mum. Now it was just me so I couldn’t let her down.

  I couldn’t.

  I must have drifted off at this point because the next thing I knew sunshine was streaming in through the gaps in the curtains and Maddy was thumping on my door telling me breakfast was ready.

  Breakfast? Seriously? This was a novelty. There’s nothing much in our fridge usually, unless you fancy sprouting onions or mold, and on the days I do go to school I tend to just grab a Red Bull and some crisps from the corner shop. I was about to snap that I don’t eat breakfast when I remembered my agreement with Harry. I might not be staying but never let it be said Amber Evans goes back on a deal. That kind of rumour gets a girl in big trouble on the Shakespeare Estate. Besides, the smell of bacon was drifting up the stairs and my mouth started to water. As I’d got dressed I’d told myself this was another reason to get home as fast as possible – I’d be the size of a house if I lived here for long.

  I ate breakfast in the kitchen with Kate and Maddy, Harry apparently being up and out hours ago doing whatever it is farmers have to do, and then Kate drove us into the next big town in an ancient car held together by dog hair and sweet wrappers. It was further away than I’d imagined and the narrow lanes were a total maze of green but before long Maddy and I were deposited by the school gates and left to fend for ourselves.

  Have a great day.

  Yeah right.

  It could have been worse though, at least Kate didn’t insist on accompanying me inside like Auntie Sue would have done. That was a total invitation for every kid to have a go at me and I hadn’t even lasted the week before I’d been excluded. I’d not lasted much longer at Auntie Sue’s after that either.

  Now, there’s a thought…

  Feeling slightly cheered by at least having something like an escape plan, I was following Maddy to the reception when she grabbed my arm and yanked me into a doorway. Seconds later three blonde girls swished by in a cloud of perfume and superiority, giggling loudly and tossing their hair like show ponies. One of them was Emily Lacey, she of the cast iron hands, gorgeous horses and uber fit boyfriend.

  Seeing my astonished expression, Maddy said quickly, “I try and stay away from them. They’re not very nice to me because of the farm belonging to Emily’s dad and Mum being a cleaner.”

  I’d been in enough schools to know girls like these weren’t very nice to anyone and having already met the charming Emily I totally got why Maddy would avoid her.

  “What’s she doing at the local comp? If pig man’s so loaded, surely she should be at a posh private school?”

  “She used to go to boarding school but she’s persuaded her dad to send her here,” Maddy explained. “She says this way she can be at home and spend more time with the horses but Harry thinks it’s really so she can do what she likes while her dad’s away.”

  “Does Pig Man work away much then?”

  Maddy nodded. “He goes away lots and lots leaves Emily on her own. Mum says it’s neglect.”

  She clapped her hand over her mouth and stared at me in horror. “I’m not supposed to repeat that in case Mum loses her job.”

  On the Shakespeare Estate Emily’s scenario isn’t so unusual and speaking as a girl whose dad went away and totally forgot to come back, I’ve been pretty much doing what I like for years. The only difference is I don’t live in a posh house or have lots of money which means I’m on an at risk list with hot and cold running social workers while girls like Emily get to ride horses and throw parties.

  Such is life.

  “I won’t say anything,” I promised and was just on the brink of telling Maddy to let me know if Emily gave her any trouble when I had to stop myself in time. What was I thinking? I couldn’t make promises I had no intention of keeping since I was intending to be out of here asap.

  It’s the golden rule of being on a foster placement: don’t get involved.

  So, anyway here I am now, clutching a time table that may as well be written in Chinese for all the sense I can make of it, and trying to find my tutor room. This is easier said than done since all these corridors look identical. I’m deep in a maze of blue carpet, flaking ceilings and tatty noticeboards and feeling more lost with each passing second. At regular intervals along the grey walls are cell doors and one of these by a process of elimination has to be my tutor base. Knowing my luck, it’ll be room 101.

  I glance down at the time table clutched in my hand. No, my tutor base is in K3 which is right in front of me. I suppose this is it. Time to face the lions.

  I knock on the door and let myself in without waiting for an answer. Instantly the fug of sweaty teenagers, cheap perfume and board cleaner wallops me. How is it that all schools smell the same? Do they have some special plug in scent that they bulk buy in the same place where they get those blue plastic chairs with the holes in the back and legs that snap off if you swing on them for
long enough?

  Hostile eyes are instantly trained on me and yes, I’m including the teacher in that too because he looks less than thrilled to see me. Red faced and sweating, the two damp patches spreading from under his armpits telling a pro like me he’s terrified by teenagers and just about managing to keep control, he instantly goes on the attack.

  “You’re late.”

  Don’t you just love it when teachers state the obvious? I give him my very best bothered? look.

  “I’m here now.”

  There’s a little ripple of interest and I spot Emily Lacey regarding me with the cold eyes of a shark looking forward to a kill.

  “You’re still late,” says my tutor. “I take it you’re Amber Evans gracing us with your presence?”

  “I’m not Batman,” I say and there’s a titter from the students.

  The teacher’s face turns an even deeper shade of puce.

  “I’m not sure I like your attitude, young lady. However, since it’s your first day we’ll put it down to nerves. Your uniform, however, I can’t quite fathom. Let me explain the concept of uniform, shall I? It’s something you wear to school that we’ve agreed on. A blazer? Dark shoes? A tie?”

  I left for Cornwall so abruptly that of course I haven’t got a uniform. I’ve hardly even got any clothes with me. Mum hadn’t made it to the launderette for weeks and all I could do was grab the few clean bits I could find and hope that I got home to do the laundry soon. Dogood might have promised social services would give money to my new foster parents for clothes but she wasn’t the one having to go to a new school dressed in the odd bits left in the airing cupboard. I can’t even remember buying these red leggings I’ve got on today. I reckon they came back from the hospital by mistake. That happens a lot with Mum; she goes in with her own things and comes out with a load of jumble. I did try sewing her name on to a few bits but it didn’t make any difference.