Christine Pullein-Thompson: I Rode a Winner (eBook pre-order, out 24 July 2025)

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IT isn’t easy to watch your parents part. I missed most of the rows, because I was sent to boarding school and when I returned they had already separated. I sat in my bedroom staring at my china horses. I didn’t see them because I was imagining my father leaving, banging the front door behind him, going without bothering to say goodbye to me, to leave a note explaining. It hurt. Then slowly tears came. Sometime later I was aware of my mother in the room, tall and beautiful, waving a letter.

“Simon wants to have you for the summer,” she said. “He says you’ll have to work for your living. But you don’t mind, do you? There are sixteen horses in at the moment and some others turned out.”

Simon is my brother. He failed most of his A levels and then, against everybody’s advice, married Tina. He had been riding for some time and Tina was already running a stable, so they simply moved into the stud groom’s cottage and ran it together. He’s years older than I am: I remembered him coming home from school, cursing like a trooper, playing his transistor full volume until the rest of the household reached screaming point.

“Do you think we’ll get on?” I asked now. “I mean we never did, did we?”

“He’s changed, mellowed. And Tina’s a sweety,” replied Mummy. “Anyway, there really isn’t anywhere else to go. We’re selling this house and I’m off tomorrow to stay in London and you know you would be bored there the whole holidays.”

I was pleased that I did not have to make up my mind.

“You can come to me, later, or stay with Daddy, whichever you like: I shall give you some money and Tina will help you get any clothes you may need—jeans, jodhpurs, etc. … You’ll have to learn to muck out and muck in,” said Mummy, laughing.

I remembered Tina at her wedding. She had arrived and left in a coach drawn by a four-in-hand.

“Daddy and I will be keeping in touch,” continued Mummy. “Daddy wants you for Easter and you’re definitely coming to me for Christmas.”

I started to feel like a parcel, something wrapped up in brown paper waiting to be posted somewhere for Christmas. I was trying not to cry again.

“You’ve always wanted to ride,” said Mummy, sounding guilty for the first time. “This is your big chance, darling.”

“Yes, I’m sure it will be fabulous,” I replied. “I shall enjoy every moment. I shall be a good worker and earn my keep.”

But I didn’t mean it for suddenly I wasn’t sure of anything any more. My whole life seemed to be toppling about my ears. I wanted Mummy to leave my room, but she lingered, picking things up and putting them down again.

“You will understand everything when you are older,” she said at last, putting an arm round my shoulder.

“I’m sure I will,” I replied, “even Daddy leaving without saying goodbye.”

“He’s writing to Simon’s place. Why don’t you change into a dress and we’ll go out and have tea somewhere,” said Mummy.

We lived in a town. My riding had been done during the summer holidays at a trekking centre in Wales. Outside the streets were full of people and we had to wait ages for tea. I kept biting my nails while Mummy made bright conversation.


Next day Simon came in a Land-Rover to pick me up. I hadn’t seen him for nearly a year and he had changed. He seemed much happier and he had left his transistor at home. His shoulders were wider too and his hair bleached yellow by the sun.

My cases were ready packed. I had put on slacks and a yellow shirt.

Mummy fussed over Simon and made him coffee in the kitchen which would soon belong to someone else. I stood on the pavement saying goodbye to everything. The garden was full of roses. A bird was washing himself in the bird bath on the lawn. I felt faintly sick.

Simon came outside at last. “Tina can’t wait for you to come,” he said, taking the two cases which held all my belongings. “She’s got rows of ponies lined up for you to ride. You’re going to have a wonderful time.”

He put the cases in the Land-Rover. I climbed in after them.

“I kept telling Debbie she’s in for a whale of a time,” said Mummy.

I wanted to leave at once. I hate partings and this one was even worse than usual. It was like parting from my whole childhood.

“We’ll look after her,” said Simon climbing into the Land-Rover.

Our house wasn’t a pretty house. It stood in a road where all the houses were supposed to be different—‘houses of character’, they were called—but somehow they all managed to have the same atmosphere inside. They were all middle class houses and all had lounges with cocktail cabinets, and coloured television installed, plus integral garages for two cars.

“I’ll write every day,” promised Mummy, while Simon started the Land-Rover. “And ring up tonight to see how you are, Debbie.”

I thought of someone else sleeping in my bedroom.

“Goodbye,” I shouted without looking at anyone. “I shall be all right.” My voice had a croak in it. I looked straight ahead along the road and saw that the milkman was delivering milk and that the postman was late as usual.

“It’s best to get away,” said Simon after a time in an embarrassed voice. “I found that out quite soon.”

“But I’m younger than you were,” I said.

“You’ll like the ponies,” continued Simon, “and there are a couple of foals in the lower paddock. I hope to ride at Badminton next year.”

“You mean compete there?” I asked.

Simon nodded. “I shall probably break my neck, but one has to progress,” he said. “And then there’s the Olympics in three years’ time.”

He made everything seem possible. We were nearly out of the town now, green fields stretched into the distance.

“Surely you and Tina don’t look after all those horses on your own,” I said.

“Gosh no, there’s Derek; he’s our working pupil, you’ll like him, everyone does … then there’s Rosalind, Rosie for short. We all work very hard.”

“I’ve never mucked out, you’ll have to show me how,” I said.

I was feeling better—rather as though I had just woken up from a nightmare and found none of it was true after all.

“There’s some chocolate in that bag, help yourself,” said Simon, stopping at some traffic lights.

Another five minutes and we were in the country, driving through a valley with hills sprinkled with trees on each side.

“Only another thirty more miles,” said Simon. “How was school? Are you glad to be leaving?”

“I don’t know yet, some of it was fun,” I answered. “I expect I shall miss my friends.”

I found it difficult to keep my eyes open. I had hardly slept for two nights.

“It is better for people to part if they are unhappy,” said Simon. “You couldn’t expect our parents to stay together for another five years just because of you.”

“I know that. It just took me by surprise,” I answered.
The verges were white with meadowsweet. Cows stood sleepily in fields. Some time later Simon touched my shoulder.

“We are nearly there, just three more minutes,” he said, and I knew by his voice that he loved every inch of the road, and that this was home to him as nowhere had ever been before.

“There are the brood mares. Look! over there,” he cried. “Under the elms.”

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and saw two ponies standing by a water trough.

“They’re called Nutmeg and Cinnamon,” Simon told me. “They’re ordinary ponies, but in foal to very good stallions.”

“When will they foal?”

“Next June.”

It seemed a long time away to me at that moment.

“Here we are,” said Simon, driving into a yard.

A crowd was waiting for us. “Welcome to Bullrock Stables,” they shouted.

Humans: Debbie Ravenswood, Simon and Tina Ravenswood, Mrs Ravenswood, Mr Ravenswood, Derek, Rosie

Horses: Cleo, Charlatan, Mainspring, Heather