Patricia Leitch: The Magic Pony (eBook pre-order out 23 October 2024, Jinny 7)

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“Who bloomin’ cares?” thought Jinny Manders rebelliously. “Who cares what X equals? Not me. If I sat here forever still couldn’t find out,” and she stared down at the algebra text-book open in front of her, hating its smug rows of meaningless equations. “What does it matter, anyway?”

It had been the mid-summer-term holiday. Riding home from school on Thursday, four days of freedom had stretched out before Jinny, four days when she could spend all her time with Shantih, her Arab mare; and now it was Monday evening, the long weekend wasted. Jinny’s plans for a picnic ride to Loch Varrich and a day’s ride to Miss Tuke’s trekking centre had been washed out by three days of downpour. Three days of solid, pouring rain that had made any thoughts of riding an utter impossibility.

Jinny had tried to ride on Saturday morning, but after only twenty minutes she had been soaked to the skin, rain cascading from the brim of her hard hat, her newly-cleaned tack sodden and Shantih’s red-gold coat sleeked to her body. Admitting defeat she had turned back home to Finmory House.

But Monday had been fine—blue sky with placid puffs of drifting white clouds.

“Think I’ll ride to Miss Tuke’s today,” Jinny had told her family at breakfast. “Least the forestry tracks won’t be flooded.”

“You can’t have forgotten?” said Petra, Jinny’s elder sister.

“Forgotten what? What can’t I have forgotten now?” demanded Jinny, glaring suspiciously at Petra, thinking how dreary it was to be thirteen and burdened with a sixteen-year-old sister who never forgot anything, never seemed to do anything wrong and, even at breakfast, looked crisp and bright.

“Go on, tell me, what have I forgotten?”

“We discussed it before I made the appointment,” said her mother. “So there wouldn’t be any fuss.”

“Dentist,” said Mike, Jinny’s ten-year-old brother, pulling a face of agony.

And Jinny had remembered. The day had been arranged a month ago. Dentist for them all first, then school shoes and new blazers.

“But I can’t come,” panicked Jinny. “Not when it’s been so wet and I haven’t been able to ride. It wouldn’t be fair. You should have told me last night.” But no one was paying any attention to her.

“Be ready for ten,” Jinny’s father said. He was driving them in to Inverburgh then going to see Nell Storr who had a gift shop in the town and sold the pottery that Mr. Manders and Ken Dawson, a boy who lived with them, made.

Dragging herself upstairs to get ready, Jinny abandoned all hope for the day. “But I’m riding tonight,” she had promised herself. “I’m going for a gallop then. Nothing will stop me.”

While the dentist was filling one of her back teeth, Jinny thought hard about galloping Shantih over the Finmory moors. She heard the thunder of Shantih’s flying hoofbeats, felt her horse fit and eager, the wind blowing back the drift of Shantih’s mane and her own long red hair as they galloped into the wind. All about them lay the open moorland and the glimmer of the sea in Finmory Bay.

“There we are,” said the dentist. “Wasn’t too bad, was it? Rinse out your mouth, please.”

Jinny spat with enthusiasm, avoiding her hair. That was the worst part of the day over. Only buying clothes and back to Finmory. If they all got a move on they should be back for four at the latest, which left plenty of time for a long ride.

It was well after six before they got home. Mike’s feet seemed to have reached an in-between stage not catered for by shoe manufacturers, and they had had to trail round dozens of shoe shops before they found a pair to fit him.

“At last!” Jinny had exclaimed as her father stopped the car outside Finmory House. “I’m going to ride now. At once. So don’t anyone ask me to do anything.”

“What about your algebra?” Petra had asked sweetly.

Half-way out of the car, Jinny froze with dismay. She had completely forgotten about her algebra. On Thursday night, high on the thought of her four days’ holiday, she had made the mistake of pouring out her troubles to Petra, telling her how foul Mr. Palmer, her maths master, had been, saying that Jinny was lazy, insolent and totally inattentive. “And he gave me two punishment exercises to do for Tuesday,” she had said. “Fourteen equations, all stupid letters instead of numbers. He knows I can’t do them.”

“Well, you’ll need to, won’t you?” Petra had said. “If it’s a punishment exercise you’ll need to do it.”

“What algebra?” her father demanded, turning round from the front of the car to look at Jinny. “Homework?”

“Oh, just some algebra I’ve to do,” Jinny replied. “I’ll do it when I come back from my ride.”

“You’ll do it before you ride,” Mr. Manders had stated.
Jinny stared back at her father, wondering if it was worth arguing.

“Now,” said Mr. Manders. “At once.”

Into Jinny’s mind swam the enraged face of Mr. Palmer when he had thrown her exercise book down on her desk and begun to tell her what he thought of her. He would not be happy if Jinny arrived at his class on Tuesday without having done the two exercises that he had given her.

“Blast!” exclaimed Jinny, which was the nearest her family allowed to swearing. “All weekend I haven’t been able to ride and now it’s fine I’ve to go and do bloomin’ equations.”

Humans: Jinny, Mike, Petra and Mr and Mrs Manders, Ken, Mr MacKenzie, Dolina, Miss Tuke, Tam, Keziah, Nell, Brenda, Martin Post, Joyce West

Horses: Shantih, Bramble, Easter, Queenie

1. For Love of a Horse
2. A Devil to Ride
3. The Summer Riders
4. Night of the Red Horse
5. Gallop to the Hills
6. Horse in a Million
7. The Magic Pony
8. Ride Like the Wind
9. Chestnut Gold
10. Jump for the Moon
11. Horse of Fire
12. Running Wild