Chapter 13 #2
We walk on, joining the back of the group making their way around the lake.
When Mum wobbles a little as her horse navigates the rocky path, her shriek of, ‘Oh, fuck this!’ echoes around the tranquil mountain sides and a laugh erupts from me before I can stop it, Nico’s ensuing chuckles not far behind.
***
2007: Nineteen years ago
‘Here,’ Dad says, passing me a glass of orange and pineapple squash as I lay on the sofa, my foot raised on a pile of cushions.
‘Thanks, Dad.’
As I take a sip, he sits down at the other end of the sofa to inspect my ankle.
‘It looks a bit swollen,’ he remarks.
‘It’s okay.’
Dad fights a smirk. ‘Explain to me how you fell off a stationary horse again?’
‘I didn’t fall off! I was getting off and I stumbled a bit as I landed.’
‘A bit?’ he contests, raising his eyebrows.
‘Okay, a lot,’ I admit before groaning, burying my face in my hands and muffling my voice. ‘It’s so embarrassing. Do you think everyone saw?’
‘I didn’t see it.’
‘Yeah, but you were with the other parents. Everyone else was in the stables.’
‘They were probably concentrating on dismounting their own horses safely. I wouldn’t worry.’
I run my fingers down my face. ‘They must think I’m such a loser.’
‘You are not a loser. And if you need proof of that—’ he picks up the rosette with ‘1’ on it and waves it in my face ‘—then here you go. First place!’
‘In one event.’
He sighs, dropping his hand. ‘Megan, do you have to be so down on yourself all the time? You shouldn’t say, “in one event” in that low droopy voice, you should say, “Yes! I won an event! And I am amazing!”’
‘I can’t go around saying, “I am amazing!”’
‘Well, you are. I was so proud of you today.’
‘You have to say that, you’re my dad.’
‘I mean it, you’re a natural equestrian.’
I smile at him. ‘Thanks for signing me up. I was so nervous.’
‘It’s normal to be nervous of new things. But important you do them all the same. Look at you. One week later and you have a bunch of new friends and a host of new skills.’
‘I could make those skills even better if I had my own horse,’ I say brightening.
He chortles. ‘Nice try. Where would we keep it?’
‘Hm. Maybe we’d need to buy a new house too with fields and a big paddock.’
‘This is a conversation for your mother,’ he says, winking at me. ‘Tell her she’s going to need to write a few more bestsellers so we can afford your dream countryside mansion, horses and stables included.’
My smile fading, I pick at my nails. ‘I wish Mum could have come today.’
‘She wishes that, too.’
‘She said she’d be there.’
He tilts his head at me. ‘You know how these publicity meetings can be. They always go on longer than she thinks.’ He taps my leg pointedly as I continue to look down at my hands. ‘Hey, she really wanted to be there, Megan.’
I nod, not looking at him. I want to believe him, I do.
But I told her how much I’d improved since starting the week and I wanted her to see.
She won’t get a chance now until the next time I’m lucky enough to ride.
I know Mum’s work is important but she said she’d be there.
It’s the same at parents’ evenings and sports matches.
Sometimes I worry Mum doesn’t believe my achievements or maybe she doesn’t think they’re exciting enough.
If she came to watch, she might realise I’m quite good at some stuff.
At least she made it to speech day at the end of term.
She was wearing such a big hat, you couldn’t miss her.
‘Dawn Dixon!’ I heard people whisper, eyes widening as she gave other parents dramatic air kisses so they didn’t notice she couldn’t remember their names.
I didn’t win any awards that day. She needn’t have bothered coming.
When we got home and I was upstairs, I heard her say to Dad, ‘That was a bloody long day’ before he told her to lower her voice.
Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t come today.
She probably would have missed my winning event but then had front row seats to me rolling over on my ankle as I got off a horse that wasn’t even moving.
‘Are you okay?’ Dad asks me, studying my expression.
I tell him I’m fine. When he helps me upstairs to bed, he tells me he’s going to put the rosette on the mantlepiece, pride of place. I pretend to be embarrassed, but I’m grateful. I want Mum to see it when she gets home.
I’m still awake when I hear her stumble through the front door a couple of hours later.
I hear Dad having a go at her in the kitchen below in a hushed voice.
She gets defensive, telling him she’s allowed to have a drink every now and then, and today was very important for her career.
He wants this book to sell, doesn’t he? He replies too quietly for me to make out, but he sounds defeated.
Then I hear his soft footsteps coming up the stairs to bed.
Mum stays downstairs a bit longer as I don’t hear her come up. I must fall asleep.
The next day, she sleeps in and then when she comes down, she opens several kitchen cabinets and drawers looking for something.
I tell her I won an event at the finale of pony club yesterday.
Distracted, she says, ‘Oh, well done, darling! I knew you could do it. Do you know where the paracetamol is? Oh, here we are. Why your father keeps it in this drawer I’ll never know, but that man is so stuck in his ways.
’ She kisses me on the head and plods into her office to grab her laptop before returning back upstairs with it, tucked under her arm.
I take the rosette down from the mantlepiece and put it away in my bedside drawer.