Bargain Horses – Gillian Baxter

“Of all the daft things to do—like entering me for one of Bron’s ballet tests in her place. Think of it, they’re expecting a dainty little ballerina, and they get me.” “Oh, I don’t know.” Gemma grinned. “I think you’d look quite fetching in a tutu, or whatever it is that ballerinas wear for exams. I can just see you, a nice bow in your hair …” That was as far as she got before Morgan shoved her off the wall into the moth-eaten shrubs below, with their blossoms of chewed gum and discarded crisp packets.

But she felt happier as they went back into school. Morgan brought a cheerful blast of sanity into the highly charged air of her mum’s obsessions. There was to be a disco at school for sixth formers and friends. This was unusual, for generally the school authorities were too worried about trouble to run discos, but it was to be tried as a special concession.

“How about coming with me?” suggested Morgan, when the notices went up. “A Friday night—no horses to ride at night, are there?” “Don’t suggest it, Mum might rig up some floodlights.” Gemma was not really joking. Such an idea had been mentioned for winter evenings. “Yes, it would be great. But strictly no trying out any of Bron’s ballet steps.” Mary wouldn’t be pleased, she knew. It was rare for Gemma to go out in the evening, for looking after the horses ran well on into any possible recreation time, and also Gemma felt guilty about leaving her mother alone too often in the isolated caravan with just the dogs for company.

Mary had no real friends, just a few horsy acquaintances. The friends she used to have were married, or immersed in careers or affairs, and Mary, with her complete lack of interest in social life or relationships, was the odd-one-out, especially now that she had no husband to drag her out into what was considered to be normality. “What are you going to wear?” asked Linda, one of the other girls in the lower sixth. “We’ve all decided to give jeans a miss, let’s dress up for once.”

“Well … all right.” Gemma had misgivings. Jeans were easy even for her, whereas a special outfit was going to cause problems, not so much over money, for Gemma had a little saved, which she guarded jealously. Most of it came from occasional conscience presents from her father, who had known perfectly well when he went that he was leaving his daughter in the lurch. At first he had made an effort, having Gemma for the day, taking her to the zoo or to a playground, both of them stiff and stilted with each other.

Bargain Horses was inspired by a real horse and by ambitious pony club mothers, the ones who refuse to acknowledge the risk in their ambition to see their daughters successful in events and be picked for pony club teams. I admit to being guilty of some of this myself, which was why I bought Winston, who became Weston in the book.

He was an impressive horse, powerful and very good looking and a brilliant jumper. Once launched on a cross country round he would take over so long as his rider hung on and aimed him in the right direction. He also had a spectacular buck and once going was almost unstoppable.

It took several also spectacular falls for my daughter before a broken wrist and a jumped judges’ car made me face facts and sell him to a strong professional rider who still did not find him easy. He had, however, given me the idea for a book of the kind for which J A Allen were currently looking—something for teenage readers including a boyfriend. The result was Bargain Horses. Gillian Baxter, 2025 1kitap1.com/en G 1 emma’s mum was waiting outside the school gates as usual, in the ancient Land Rover with the leaky canvas top and the dogs in the back.

Crossing the pavement Gemma felt her school personality slipping away: that of the tidy, methodical member of the lower sixth and the responsible senior prefect giving way to Mary Conway’s daughter, the girl with the curly red hair and the muddy jeans who rode, groomed, mucked out, and competed on the horses and ponies that were her mother’s life.

“At last.” Her mother was already forcing the Land Rover into gear as Gemma settled in the rickety passenger seat, and stowed her school bag among the straw and dried mud on the floor. The Jack Russell terrier, Dock, and the Border Collie, Tip, fell on her enthusiastically, licking and pawing at her face and school shirt, and Gemma petted them and fended them off.

“This sixth form society is a pest, there’s no time left to give Weston proper work.” Mary was barging her way out into the traffic of the main road, ignoring flashing lights and blasting horns from the other road users. “Still, if we hurry you can give him a canter in the stubble. Good thing it was a wet season, it still isn’t ploughed.”

“I mustn’t be too long,” Gemma warned her. “I’ve got two essays to write, and Miss Butler is getting tired of excuses about having to ride.” “You can write them after tea.” Mary was swinging the Land Rover into the rough track which led to home. “You’ll have plenty of time, it still isn’t light much after seven.”

Gemma supposed that she was right.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 9930c2b72c0b7fd7
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 8,303,827 bytes (7.919 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 125
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 191.01 minutes
• Total Words: 38,203
• Total Characters: 210,686
• Average Words per Page: 305.62
• Average Characters per Page: 1685.49

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