The Auditions. Stacy Gregg
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after him, I promise.”
Lucinda was thrilled with the horse-swap challenge. “I watched this mare jump in the last round. She’s very schooled and she’s got talent,” she said, adjusting the stirrups to fit Georgie’s legs which were much shorter than Sybil’s. “If Caprice can pull off a clear round with Sybil on her back then I’m sure you can get a clear round out of her too.”
Any reservations Georgie had about swapping horses disappeared once she was up on Caprice. She was a very positive pony with big paces and when
Georgie popped her over the practice jump the mare had her ears pricked and cantered on eagerly, taking the fence off a lovely forward stride.
As the riders warmed up, their names and numbers were called over the loudspeaker. Georgie was last to go. She didn’t know if this was good or bad. She had more time to warm up, but also more time to get nervous.
“Could rider number one, Ellie Trainor, please enter the ring,” the announcer called. Georgie watched as a girl on a strawberry roan came into the collection area looking tense. That morning the same girl had done a beautiful clear round on a bay mare, but as she rode at the first jump she seemed to lose her nerve and the strawberry roan slammed on the brakes and skidded into the fence. The girl gave a half-hearted whack with her crop and swung the horse around to try again. But the roan had lost confidence in her rider and had no intention of trying to jump. She gave an outright refusal, propping and baulking, and the bell rang. The first rider had been eliminated.
On the sidelines Lucinda frowned. “You must ride at the fences as if you really mean it, Georgie. If you’re half-hearted Caprice will sense your hesitation and you’ll fail.”
As each of the riders squared up to the first jump you could tell by the look on their face whether they would make it or not. There were some awful crashes as riders lost their bottle and ponies ploughed into jumps with last minute refusals. One of these riders was Sybil Hawley. The chestnut pony she was riding made a sudden stop in front of the jump–and Sybil didn’t. She flew over the pony’s neck and landed without a horse beneath her, on her bottom on the other side of the fence. Mrs Hawley would protest of course, but Sybil’s audition was well and truly over.
By the time Olivia and Tyro were up there had been no clear rounds at all. The best scores so far belonged to two riders with eight faults each. It was beginning to look like no one could make it clear on an unknown horse.
“Come on, Olivia!” Georgie called out from the sidelines. It was the strangest sensation, watching her own pony competing without her. Georgie felt a brief moment of anguish as she watched Tyro take the first jump with ease and desperately wished she were the one on his back. But Olivia rode him beautifully and when they took the last fence for the first clear round, Georgie was clapping louder than anyone.
“You should be proud of that round,” Lucinda told Georgie.
“But I wasn’t the one riding!” Georgie said.
“No, but you trained him. You’ve schooled Tyro well and it shows. He’s a credit to you.”
Olivia was totally smitten. “He is the most amazing pony,” she gushed to Georgie. “I know I’m being really cheeky saying this but if you ever decide to sell Tyro, will you please call me? I’d love to buy him!”
After Olivia went clear, the floodgates opened and by Georgie’s turn to ride there had been five clear rounds. To make the top three Georgie not only had to go clear, she also had to get a quick-smart time to beat the others on the clock.
It was a fine line to tread. If she went hell for leather then she risked making a mistake. All it would take was a single refusal or a rail down to totally blow her chances. But if she went too cautiously she might lose on time faults.
As she entered the arena Georgie urged Caprice into a steady canter and stood up in her stirrups in two-point position. She rode a lap around the fences, mentally mapping her route between the jumps. So far, no one had taken the shortcut that she’d been planning to take on Tyro. Should she risk it on an unknown horse or aim for a safe, clear round and hope her time would be good enough?
This time she heard the bell ring loud and clear. With a tip of her hat to the selectors, she rode one last lap around the perimeter and then came through the flags like a rocket. The clock was ticking. She had to go clear and make every second count.
Georgie rode at the first fence with almost too much energy and Caprice took off from too far back with a huge stride. Her hind legs scraped the rail and Georgie heard the crowd go “ohhh!” as the pole rocked in its cups. But it didn’t fall. She steadied the mare and took her time over the next few fences. Through the treble one… two … three! Georgie had got the striding perfection the jumps but she sensed that their time was far too slow. There were only two fences left. If Georgie wanted to beat the other clear rounds, she had to go for the shortcut.
Over number eight she had to virtually twist Caprice in mid-air, so that the mare landed at an angle. There was a gasp from the crowd as they realised what Georgie was doing and another as Caprice nearly hit a fence as she swerved to the right. Then, suddenly, the last jump loomed right in front of Georgie. She would almost have to jump it sideways to make it over.
Georgie took a deep breath and kicked on. Caprice put in one last stride and then lifted up into the air. There was a choked silence from the crowd. Would she get over? The turn had been so tight it seemed like an impossible leap.
Georgie had judged it like a pro! Caprice flew the fence with room to spare. As she landed on the other side the wild applause told Georgie all she needed to know. She had done it. Georgie was on her way to the finals.
The crowd in the grandstand of Birmingham’s NEC Arena was buzzing with a sense of anticipation. They had already marvelled at the thrills and spills of the scurry races, and gasped at the fantastic Lipizzaner stunt horses performing Swan Lake.
“We do hope you’ve enjoyed the entertainment so far,” announcer Mike Partridge warbled to the audience. “Now it’s time for the main event. You’re about to see the very best young talent in Britain take the ride of their lives. It’s the grand final of the Blainford Academy auditions!”
The crowd gave a cheer and Mike Partridge continued his introduction. “The riders performing for us today are no older than thirteen years of age. All have passedrigorous tests to prove they’re the best in their chosen field. We’ve got eventers and showjumpers, polo players and dressage riders and we’ve even got a Western rider and natural horsemanship star making an appearance!
“Twenty young hopefuls competing for just five places. It’s the competition of a lifetime for these kids.” Mike Partridge paused. “We’ll meet the first of our twenty finalists in just a moment, but before we do that, let me introduce you to our selectors!”
Three giant spotlights flashed on to the arena, tracing circles of light across the golden sand before concentrating on the three judges sitting at the selectors’ table at the far end of the arena.
“Our first selector is a household name–winner of countless Horse of the Year titles, a showjumping superstar and the glamour girl of the British Olympic equestrian squad–it’s the one and only Helen Nicholson!”
The crowd cheered louder than ever as a very beautiful woman with dark brown hair, big brown eyes and a warm smile got up to give them a wave.
“Our next selector,” Mike Partridge began, “is an animal behaviourist whose books on horse training have sold millions. He’s also an Australian–but don’t hold that against him! Ladies and gentlemen–it’s Dr David McGee!” A handsome grey-haired man stood up and waved to the crowd who clapped politely.
“And finally,” Mike Partridge continued, “a woman who needs no introduction. Blainford’s senior selector is an international