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  ‘Right . . .’ Tully thought for a moment, her mind grinding slowly and painfully. ‘Well, what about correspondence, then?’ she said, more hopefully than she’d expected. ‘I heard a few kids from last year finished years eleven and twelve that way . . . I could do track work in the mornings, then come home and study in the afternoons – once I’m healed up, that is. I go back in four weeks to see the doctor, which gives me at least a month to find a trainer willing to take me on, and get my correspondence study organised. I think there’re even some centres around that can help out with subjects you’re struggling with!’

  Her father closed his hands around the racings pages, his knuckles whitening.

  Tully didn’t lower her eyes from his – every second of battle increasing her confidence of possible victory.

  ‘What about work?’ he said.

  ‘I want riding to be my work, Dad. You know I’ll make about the same as I do now if I can get on with a trainer who has a decent string based at a track. Surely, I’ll be able to get work as an exercise rider, and hopefully start as an apprentice jockey, too. I’ll even do extra mucking out and feeding for a trainer if they’ll let me. Whatever I can get.’

  ‘What about the horses you’ve got here?’

  ‘My horses? I’ll get Dahlia moved to where I’m at,’ Tully said firmly. ‘It’d be unreal for her training to be able to gallop every day and have access to their facilities like the walker, vets, and all that. I won’t be moving out, Dad, and I’ll still be around enough to make sure Frangi and Greg are looked after, and Bear Dog.’

  ‘How do you expect to get to work every day? To get a start in that kind of work, you should know you’re probably gonna have to go to at least Ipswich, or the Gold Coast, or into Brisbane . . . And I bloody hope you wouldn’t ever consider getting on with a trainer we don’t know personally, and very well!’

  Tully recognised his ploy – there were trainers who did their daily track work at Beaudesert, but she didn’t see what calling him on this detail would accomplish. ‘Of course not, Dad . . .’ She would never forget her conversation with her aunt about the dodgy trainer who had led to her mother’s death . . . ‘I suppose I’ll have to get a ute then, hey?’ She said. ‘I have been saving.’

  Gerald grunted, pushed his plate to the side. He picked up his coffee mug, rising from the table. ‘Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.’

  ‘I’ll still need your help, Dad, with Dahlia, and with my riding.’

  ‘I was ready to accept you riding here, for fun, Tully. But I’ll never agree with you becoming a jockey—you have no idea how fierce it is, what it takes . . . Are you after the same fate as your mother?’

  Tully reeled at her father’s words – stinging worse than the broken ribs. Tears prickled at her eyes and she chewed her bottom lip, disappointment from his lack of support filling her limbs like lead.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said quickly, turning for the sink. ‘I . . . know there’s nothing I can say that’ll change your mind, you are my daughter, after all. But you can’t expect me to be happy about it.’

  ‘I don’t,’ Tully said. She swiped a tear from her cheek, turned her body into the shadow of the wall. But you could believe in me.

  21

  Izzie The Show Jumper

  Tam came around with Judy later that week to take Tully into Queensland Transport to sit her written test for her Learner’s license, then into Brisbane to see a man about a ute.

  Tully sat against the window in the back seat of Judy’s RAV-4 so she could use the armrest for support, Tam cuddling in close. ‘Man,’ Tam said, gently looping her arm through Tully’s good one. ‘It feels like an eternity since I’ve spoken to you!’

  ‘Been taking it easy, Tully?’ Judy asked through the rearview. ‘How’s the head?’

  ‘I had headaches for the first few days . . .’ Tully said. ‘But I’ve been careful to rest.’ And avoid any more stressful conversations with my father . . . ‘Feeling a lot better, thank you again.’

  ‘Your eye’s certainly improved.’

  ‘Was thinkin’ I’d need to get you a pirate patch.’ Tam grinned. ‘You look surprisingly well.’

  ‘Thanks a lot.’

  ‘Well, considering you hit the ground off a racehorse, I mean.’

  ‘We weren’t even trotting, Tam. And Dahlia isn’t a racehorse.’ Yet. Tully found herself smiling. ‘What have you been up to in these last few weeks of summer break?’

  ‘No good,’ Judy said.

  ‘What-evs!’ Tam yawned, then she moved her face close to Tully’s, whispering, ‘So, I’ve been dying to ask you. How’re things with Brandon Weston?’

  Tully’s heart jolted and she felt the grimace crease across her face.

  ‘He’s called you, right?

  ‘Ah . . .’ Tully’s breath caught in her throat – she tried to say it was all good, but the words wouldn’t come out. ‘He . . . Brandon had to go back to Brissie, for school.’

  ‘But, you guys are still seeing each other, right?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘That dick!’

  Tully shushed Tam with her finger as Judy raised her eyebrows, but kept her eyes on the road.

  ‘He didn’t brush you off!’ Tam asked, indignantly, and then, ‘He did, didn’t he?’

  ‘Kinda, I mean . . . It was never gonna happen, Tam.’

  ‘I can’t believe it.’ Tam shook her head viigorously. ‘I coulda sworn he was into you – I mean, like, really into you. He has texted you, though, right?’

  Tully pursed her lips together to keep from frowning, shook her head.

  ‘Has he Facebook messaged you?’ Tam said. ‘Snap Chat, Ask FM’d you, reached out via Instagram? Anything?’

  ‘We can’t talk, Tam!’ Not that he wants to . . . Tully did her best to breathe down the storm of pain that had roiled within her at the mention of his name, but she couldn’t keep her voice from rising. ‘What can we say to each other? Our families are total enemies—rivals, forever, Tam! Like I said – it wasn’t gonna happen, and Brandon apparently has better things to do than hang out with me. So that’s that . . . Can we not talk about him anymore, please?!’

  ‘All good, girls?’ Judy asked from the front.

  ‘Sorry, Mrs. T,’ Tully said, sinking down low in her seat. ‘All good.’

  ‘Never,’ Tam said, whipping out her phone. ‘Never again! I’m un-friending him right now, and un-following him on Instagram. He hasn’t posted since before New Year’s anyway, but I am so done with him. Any guy that screws my bestie over, gets seriously screwed by me! He’d better hope he doesn’t see me in the street.’

  Tully couldn’t help but giggle at Tam’s wannabe-gangsta pose, but tears of pain welled up in her eyes at the movement, her hands wrapping around her side.

  ‘I’m sorry, Tull—seriously. You’re too good for him, anyway. Onto bigger and better.’

  ‘Thanks, Tam,’ Tully said, bracing against the tears. ‘You’re the best.’

  ‘You are, girl – you’re the toughest chick I know. And now you’re gonna be driving a ute! Super cool . . . I’m hoping Mummy and Daddy will get the hint soon . . .’

  ‘The day I give you free rein to drive around, Tamara—’ Judy glanced back at the girls— ‘is the day the rest of the world must clear off the road.’

  ‘Ha-ha,’ Tam said, flicking her mum the finger behind the seat. ‘I’m totally gettin’ a car soon.’

  ‘Maybe you would consider getting a job first?’ Judy grinned.

  ‘What is it,’ Tam whined. ‘Rag on Tam day?’

  ‘You should apply to Macca’s, Tam,’ Tully said with a wink. ‘They’re always hiring . . . And, my job will be opening up soon.’

  Tam raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I got a new job!’ Tully’s face erupted with a painful grin – relieved and appreciative of the change of topic from Brandon Bloody Weston. ‘For Mr. Barnes,’ Tully continued, sitting up taller in her seat. ‘One of the guys you met at my sweet sixteen, Tam? Any
ways, he’s got twenty or so horses at a stable near Bundamba Racecourse, and was looking for an exercise rider. I start in three weeks, once I get medical clearance from the doctor. I’ll be doing track work in the morning – six days a week – helping around the stable, AND strapping at some of the smaller races. He’s going to help me get my strapper’s and track work license, and even said he’d consider taking me on as an apprentice, depending on how I go, and everything.’

  ‘That’s amazing!’ Tam said, throwing her arms around Tully.

  ‘Y-ouch!’ Tully cried.

  ‘Sorry, girl.’ Tam let her go quickly, patting her affectionately on the head. ‘Mum, we need to hook Tull up with some of that herbal stuff you used to heal my ankle fast.’

  ‘For sure, Tully,’ Judy said. ‘It sounds like a fantastic opportunity.’

  ‘Thanks, Mrs. T,’ Tully said, her body tingling at the thought. It wouldn’t be long until she was staring down a real track through the ears of a real racehorse. She prayed she hadn’t organised more than she could handle. ‘Do you . . .’ she said, glancing at Judy through the rearview. ‘Well, you saw Mum ride a lot. Do you think I’ll be good enough – to be a jockey, I mean.’

  Judy met Tully’s eyes. ‘Dreams are a powerful force, Tully,’ she said, an encouraging smile spreading across her face. ‘Dare to dream, and anything is possible.’

  ★

  Tully parked ‘Joey’, her rusted little Jumbuck ute, in the main street on her way home from Gulherin Lodge. It was the last Saturday in May and the winter winds had ripped in early and with real force, whipping across the bone-dry southeast. Even the autumn, which was supposed to be the wettest season, had brought only a pitiful amount of rain, along with hotter than average temperatures. At least Avalon was finally doing better, however, with Gerald and Bucko both on board to run things and Tully managing to find some time amongst her hectic work schedule to help out most days, so buying feed was becoming less of a strain.

  Tully shivered in her hoodie and jeans as she grabbed her wallet and locked up her ute. Some days could still be warm, hot even, but she’d been finding the early mornings especially freezing when she got out on the track, an eager, experienced thoroughbred beneath her, teaching her the ropes. The cold also made Tully’s ribs ache and she still wrapped her torso for riding. At her last checkup, Tully’s GP mentioned that bones that had been broken, even once healed, could hurt in the cold – potentiality for a lifetime. She did her best to push through the pain, and every day seemed to be finding more strength and rhythm in the saddle.

  She’d even joined a gym, on Mr. Barnes’s suggestion, and swam laps and lifted weights three afternoons a week and on Sundays. Tam got a membership and sometimes joined her. Tully had also cut Macca’s from her diet, which wasn’t as big a challenge as she’d imagined considering she didn’t have to work there every day. She was bulking up on fruit, veggies, whole grains and plenty of pasta to get her strength up – she was fortunate to have a small, light frame as many of the other apprentices and senior jockeys had to fastidiously watch their weight. Since she was a little girl, Tully had done her best to block the memories of her mother’s ‘diets’ out of her mind. But now she was around professional jockeys at the stables and racecourse, it was all flooding back – driving her even harder to be healthy and not fall into the same traps. Her mother had continually starved and sweated herself, desperate to make weight. Dahlia Athens had been all glamour on the track and for the cameras, as many jockeys were. But behind closed doors lived a much darker story.

  Tully glanced back at her ute, then headed up the sidewalk to Crazy Clarke’s. She was hoping to find a scarf and a thicker winter jacket, maybe even some gloves as the heater in her old ute never worked and her hour-long drive from Avalon into the outskirts of Brisbane every morning were positively icy.

  She was reminding herself to grab more apples for Dahlia and some Vaseline for dry skin on her muzzle when her step faltered. The slim back profile and cascading dark curls could only belong to one girl. Annalise Belgrave.

  Annalise spun around before Tully could duck behind an elderly couple, making their way down the street. There were four girls with Annalise, her usual ‘rent-a-posse’, and they all sneered in Tully’s direction. Annalise nudged one of them in the side, whispering.

  Tully groaned inwardly. She considered ducking into the hairdressers where Tam worked, as it was only a few shops up. But when she spotted the ‘CLOSED’ sign in the window, she knew she only had one choice. Own it, Tully found herself thinking. She set her jaw, raised her chin and walked straight for the girls before she could change her mind.

  ‘I can’t believe she thought she’d have a chance with Brandon!’ Annalise said loud enough for the Queen of England to hear, and well before Tully had reached them. ‘What a tragic!’

  ‘Can see why she left school,’ a blonde friend said, they all laughed.

  Tully pressed her lips together, slipped her phone from her pocket to send Tam a message. She wasn’t sure what to say, but hoped it would diffuse the awkwardness. Her eyes were on her phone as she walked around the girls, loitering only a few doors down from Crazy Clarke’s.

  ‘OMG,’ one said from behind her. ‘Ann’s, look where she does her shopping!’

  ‘Seriously not surprised,’ Annalise said.

  Tully tuned them out, choosing a horsey emoticon and green heart to send to Tam. She held her breath as she neared the door into the shop, to safety from Annalise, but jumped, an icy streak racing down her spine when she felt a tapping on her shoulder. Tully stopped, turned, her patience frayed and anger pumping within her – ready to spit profanity in Annalise’s face. But her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the angelic face grinning up at her.

  She didn’t recognise the girl at first, it’d been so long since Tully had seen her around town. They hadn’t gone to school together, as the girl was still in primary school when Tully left high school. She was literally the cutest little pony club girl Tully had ever seen, with her blonde braided pigtails, beige jodhpurs, pink plaid socks pulled up to her knees and a matching Giddy-Up Girl Australia jumper. Gleaming brown riding boots completed her look perfectly. Tully wanted to sketch her, on the back of Frangipani. They would make the cutest pair.

  ‘Don’t worry about my sister,’ the girl said, smiling up at Tully with sparkling caramel-coloured eyes. ‘She’s a stuck up cow.’

  Tully threw back her head and laughed, then knelt down next to her. ‘Isabelle, isn’t it?’

  ‘Izzie. I think it’s so cool that you want to be a jockey, Tully.’

  ‘Wow—’ Tully gave her a quick hug— ‘Thank you, Izzie.’

  ‘Isabelle!’

  Tully glanced over Izzie’s shoulder. Annalise was standing next to her Beamer, hand on her hip. ‘Let’s go!’

  Izzie rolled her eyes and made a gag face, sticking a finger in her mouth. ‘You’re the hero of my pony club,’ she whispered, then gave Tully the strongest, warmest, most uninhibited hug she’d ever felt.

  Unexpected tears prickled at Tully’s eyes as she watched Isabelle lope down the street to her sister. When Izzie turned to wave goodbye, Tully was sure her heart would burst.

  The next morning Tully was able to help feed, turnout and muck out at Avalon, as it was Sunday and her only day off.

  The dawn was still crisp and misty by the time she’d finished, with just a pink glow etching its way up the horizon and the first beams of warm yellow light picking out the mountain tops – the rest of the valley still just a shade out of darkness. Tully cherished the way the light played over the mountains. Every minute of every sunrise and sunset illuminated a different ridge or green swell in the trees or crop of jagged charcoal rock. This morning, the sun had brought to life a new little cliff face, the white trunks of gum trees reaching down towards the cloud-grey rock on the edge of a

  far band of the mountain.

  Tully had worked up a sweat with the chores, but was cooling fast, so she pulled on her ne
w black-padded jacket, whistled Bear from his drum down at the shed and set off up the internal road. It’d been too long since she’d been on the land; her life was beginning to consist of tyres on asphalt and hooves on sand. Not that she wasn’t enjoying it, but a clean country morning like this could not be wasted.

  Her boots left deep imprints in the dew-sticky bulldust as they trekked up past her mother’s grave towards the top rim of the valley. It had greened up for a few weeks after the rain, but now the sun had soon burned it right back to brown. It was the driest spell Tully could remember, and, crushingly, rain wasn’t forecast anytime soon.

  She ran her hands over a tussock of tough buffel grass, peeking out from the protection of the barbed wire fence around the grave sites. Plucked a bushy head off one strand and rubbed it between her hands, breathed in the fresh, dusty scent of the parched grass, then let the little seeds spread on the wind. Tully sent a prayer up to the heavens for rain, but even in these dire conditions, she sure loved the county. This was home.

  Tully was surprised to find that she wasn’t even puffing by the time she settled down on the dewy, dry earth next to Bear dog, enjoying the calls of the whip birds echoing through the gums. The land radiated a rich, calming eucalypt scent that penetrated deep within her soul. She and Bear both seemed drawn by the lush shapes of the leaves of the gums and the vast, commanding view down over Avalon. Tully smiled at a squawk from the flock of cockatoos, regulars around the farm, as they passed overhead, sweeping down to land in the stringy-bark near the house. A morning like this made everything seem so simple and clear. She’d come a long way since her sweet sixteen, but life could turn in an instant. Tully understood this better than most.

  Her mind wandered across the road to the Weston’s, to Brandon, and Tully couldn’t help but feel a nagging tug within her. Was it pain from the loss, or grief from missing him? Was it foreboding for his father, biding his time across the road for the best time to strike? Maybe all three. But the morning was glorious, and Tully wasn’t about to ruin it with pointless thoughts of Brandon.