The Secret Life of Evie Hamilton - Catherine Alliott [149]
‘Of course she's not like them, and that's very refreshing. And after all, the majority of students at Oxford don't actually come from a twenty-mile radius of here, or from public schools. And although she's coming to live with us, that's where she's going. To the university. She'll be in the majority there.’
‘I suppose,’ she said in some surprise, and I saw it cross her mind that if she, Anna, ever went there, she'd be in the minority.
‘We'll make it work, Anna, you'll see. Everything's going to be fine,’ I assured her, as women have assured children for years, and then, even if it killed them, made sure it was. We sat down on the ground together. As Anna pulled at the grass, she told me how we were going to redecorate the spare room for her – no – she sat up straight, eyes bright – she and Stacey would redecorate it together, paint it lilac, or apple green. I sat and listened and smiled.
‘Number one five two!’ sang out the nasal loudspeaker. ‘Number one five two to the collecting ring now, please.’
‘Ohmygod – that's me!’ She leaped up.
‘Go – go. Does that mean you're on?’ I got to my feet as she fled to untie Hector.
‘No, next but one. Quick, Mummy, my hat.’ I ran around picking things up. See? Scooping. A hat, a whip, her jacket – handing it all to her as she pulled her stirrups down and did up her girth.
‘Are you enjoying it?’ I asked as she turned round so I could tie her number on her back for her. ‘Hold still.’
‘It's OK, but there's so much standing around and so many bossy women telling me I'm not getting my tail bandaging right or my plaits straight. And hardly any boys do it, either.’
‘Right. Where are your cousins, then?’
‘Oh, Jack and Henry don't do this. They only hunt. Phoebe's around somewhere, but she's giving up Pony Club next year too. Did you know you don't have to be a member to go to the balls? I thought you did.’ She leaped into the saddle. ‘See you!’ she called as she trotted away.
‘See you,’ I echoed faintly.
‘Oh, by the way,’ she called, turning back. ‘My ears have gone septic!’
Excellent news. I made a mental note to get some witch hazel on the way home. To scoopeth some more.
I followed at a slower pace, and by the time I'd got to the ring, the last competitor had finished and Anna was cantering in. She set Hector at a fence of coloured poles, which he cleared easily, then another, and another, but then I think she missed one and had to go back and do it again, and then the last one she knocked flying. She cantered out, laughing.
‘Whoops!’ she yelled as she flew past me.
‘Well done, darling!’
‘Seven faults, for competitor number one five two,’ the loudspeaker informed us. ‘Seven faults.’
‘Abysmal!’ came an even louder voice to my left.
I turned to see Camilla, her face an arresting shade of pre-coronary purple, striding towards me, fists clenched. A small boy was trailing in her wake. ‘Seven faults! She didn't line him up at all.’
‘Oh, Anna won't mind,’ I assured her. ‘She's dead relaxed about that sort of thing.’
‘I mind!’ Camilla exploded. ‘That's my pony, and half of Orxfordshire are watching!’
I looked around. An awful lot of women with horse blankets round their shoulders by way of pashminas, and who looked as if they'd been standing in a wind tunnel half their lives, were, it has to be said, looking our way and talking behind their hands.
‘Yes, but it's only a bit of fun,’ I said nervously. ‘I mean, it doesn't matter. Better luck next time and all that.’
‘Better luck…? That pony has been doing clear rounds all its life! Jumps out of his skin in the right hands, and now look at him. Ruined! And I think there's more to what went