Fabulous Five 027 - The Scapegoat Page 3

  Connie led her through the stable's big double doors and down a passageway. There were rows of stalls on either side, and most of the upper halves of the doors were open. A few horses had their heads sticking out and watched them go by. Connie finally stopped at a stall near the end.

  "This is the fellow I wanted you to meet," he told her, opening the stall door and leading the animal out. "Meet Rigel," he said proudly.

  Christie drew in her breath. "He's gorgeous." She reached out to touch the horse's nose. He threw back his head and looked at her with his humongous eyes.

  Rigel was small and had a powerful chest. His coat was black with a dappling of gray on his flanks. His mane and tail were creamy white and long. He was the most delicate and beautiful horse Christie had ever seen.

  "He's an Arabian," said Connie. "We've named him after one of the brightest and prettiest stars in the constellation Orion."

  Christie ran her hand over the horse's neck, and it nuzzled her. "You're a sweetie," she cooed.

  "I thought you'd like him," said Connie with a grin. "He's your ride for today."

  "You're kidding!" cried Christie. "He's . . . he's so special."

  "Yes, he's a champion. That's why he's yours to ride." As Connie looked Christie in the eyes, she quickly looked away.

  CHAPTER 6

  "Wow, that horse is a beaut!" exclaimed Davey as Connie led Rigel out of the barn.

  "Keeping him for yourself, were you?" said Nicki. Then she looked at Christie, who couldn't keep from smiling. "I guess not." Nicki was holding the reins of a small bay. "I prefer Sunshine, myself."

  Christie was glad Nicki seemed to be teasing. It meant she was really over her crush on Connie.

  Phoebe was already mounted on a dark brown mare with a white blaze on her face. Her name was Sapphire. Charlie was on a stocky white horse named Snowfall, and Davey was riding a tall, gangly horse named Jester. Connie's horse was a gold color and was named Buttercup.

  The stable boy put a saddle on Rigel and adjusted the stirrups. Connie handed Christie a hard riding cap, and she mounted the small horse easily. It was the first time she had used a flat, English-style saddle. It was more comfortable than the Western-style saddles she had used back in the States.

  The others followed Connie out of the barnyard and across an open field. Christie could tell he was an expert rider by the way he held the reins loosely with both hands. He rode with his back straight, and posted. . . .

  They spent the morning riding along trails that wound through woods and over low hills.

  "This is all Farrell property," said Phoebe once when she and Christie were riding side by side. Phoebe's hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her face was pink from the wind. "I guess it's been in their family for years and years. Is it anything like this where you used to live?"

  Christie nodded. "Some areas are as quiet and green, but this is incredible."

  "I'm glad you're starting to like our country," said Phoebe.

  "I'm getting used to it," replied Christie. "It's very nice. Especially the people. I'm glad you, Nicki, and Ellie are my friends now." She smiled. "It makes living here easier."

  Phoebe smiled back. "You're a bit of all right yourself, Christie. We're glad to have you for a chum."

  Once, when they stopped to give their horses a drink at a stream, Christie took a deep breath of the country air and looked out over the rolling English countryside. It is beautiful, she thought, even if it doesn't feel completely like home yet.

  "How are you and Rigel getting along?" asked Connie, moving close to her.

  "He's wonderful," answered Christie. "He does everything I ask, and he's so easy to ride."

  "Arabians are that way. They're really very smart, and they let you know it. Rigel's a bit of a show-off."

  Christie patted the horse's shoulder. "I don't think he's a show-off at all."

  After riding for nearly three hours, they returned to the stable. In spite of how easy Rigel was to ride, Christie was glad to dismount and stretch her legs.

  "My bum's sore," complained Nicki, rubbing her backside.

  "That's not the only part of me that hurts." Phoebe laughed as she rubbed her legs. "I swear, my horse was as big around as your American Goodyear blimp, Christie."

  They walked to the house, laughing and chattering.

  A servant brought them lunch on a broad veranda overlooking the neighboring fields. Christie was ravenous, and the sandwiches and sweet rolls were delicious.

  While she ate, she watched Connie talk to Davey and Eleanore. He looked so different from Chase. Connie was blond with sparkling blue eyes, and Chase had black hair and intense dark eyes. They were about the same height, but Chase was more muscular from swimming. Connie is definitely more relaxed than Chase, Christie thought. It was amazing how nice Connie was even though his family owned two estates and had servants.

  When Christie saw her father's car coming along the road, she felt disappointed. She hated for the day to end.

  As the girls were getting into the car, Connie took Christie's hand and squeezed it. "Rigel told me to tell you he wants you to come back and see him."

  Christie smiled. "Tell him I will."

  "Did you have fun?" asked Christie's mother, putting her book in her lap. Christie dropped down in the chair next to her.

  "Lots. It was a great day. Connie let me ride an Arabian horse named Rigel. He's got to be the greatest horse that ever lived."

  Mrs. Winchell laughed. "I guess you did have fun."

  "You wouldn't believe their house, Mum. It's gorgeous. And they've got servants and a huge stable with all kinds of horses in it."

  "Your father told me he knows Connie's father. Besides being royalty, Mr. Farrell is quite a successful businessman. Oh, by the way, dear, I picked up some material on Oxford for you today. It's on your desk with a letter from Jana."

  Christie gave her mother a hug and went to her room. She put the things about Oxford to one side and eagerly opened Jana's letter.

  Dear Christie:

  Hi! How are things in England? They're pretty good here.

  Well, I guess they aren't really that great. I've got a problem, and I thought I'd write and ask your opinion about it.

  Mom and I were talking one night, and I was telling her about the great time Randy and I had had at the school dance. It reminded Mom of when she was dating my father. She told me about how handsome and funny he was, and how he had swept her off her feet. Mom got this sad look on her face and said she wished she had dated some other men before she married him, and found out they were totally wrong for each other. Maybe then she wouldn't have had to go through a divorce.

  After that I started thinking. You know how much I like Randy. He's the only boy I ever really cared for. I like him so much, it's hard for me to imagine going with another boy. But that worries me, too. Randy and I have never dated anyone else, so how do we know we're really and truly perfect for each other? I've been thinking that we should date other kids and see if we still feel the same way about each other.

  Mom says it's mature of me to consider it, but I'm just not sure. I'd like to know what you think, Christie. Should I talk to him about it or not?

  Love,

  Jana

  Christie was shocked. The thought of Jana and Randy's not going together seemed impossible. Everyone said they were the perfect couple. Hadn't they even been elected Mr. and Miss Seventh Grade at Wakeman Junior High?

  Did Jana and Randy really have to date someone else to know how much they liked each other? Christie wondered. The idea seemed weird. But then Jana hadn't dated anyone but Randy. How could she know she wouldn't like someone else even better? Christie took a piece of stationery out of her desk drawer and began writing.

  Dear Jana:

  At first I couldn't imagine you and Randy dating other people, but the more I think about it, the more it sounds as if it might be a good idea. I remember how I felt when I started dating Jon Smith: I thought he was the greatest. Now
I feel that way about Chase. It's hard to really know who's just right for you. You could at least talk to Randy about it. If he didn't like the idea of seeing other people, I'd drop it.

  Christie went on to tell Jana about her day and how much fun she had had riding with Connie and the others. After she finished, Christie sat with the letter in her hand. She wished she were able to sit and talk to Jana in private so Jana could tell her everything that was going on and how she felt. Jana needed someone to listen to her besides her mother. That was what good friends were for. Christie hoped she was giving Jana good advice.

  What would it be like, Christie wondered, to go with Chase for the rest of my life? The thought gave her a little thrill. She had written him that she wasn't dating anyone else, and he said he wasn't, either. It was almost the same as going steady even though they were far apart.

  Then an image of Connie sitting on the veranda that afternoon came into her mind. He was so nice and funny. And letting her ride Rigel was such a surprise.

  Was Jana's situation that much different from her own? Maybe I should date Connie to see how much I like Chase, Christie mused. But I did date Jon Smith and a few other guys before I ever met Chase. My situation isn't at all like Jana's.

  Christie sighed and picked up the brochures her mother had gotten her about Oxford University, and looked through them.

  Christie loved looking at the photos of the campus and seeing the students sitting in their classes. She hoped she was smart enough to go there. If she could just keep making A's, they might let her in.

  Christie pulled out her science book and began thumbing through the pages. I won't make it if I don't do better than I did on my celery project, she thought. And I'd better start by finding a good project for the science competition.

  Everyone said you had to do an unusual experiment. Mine had better be really special, since Miss Finney will be one of the judges.

  Christie jerked her head up, and her eyes grew large. Could I fail science? It was a terrifying thought. I might never get into Oxford University. Mom and Dad would be disappointed. I'd be disappointed, thought Christie. She pressed her lips together tightly and paged through her science book, looking for an idea for her project.

  CHAPTER 7

  Christie pulled another book from the school library shelf and took it to the table where she was working. Miss Woolsey had frowned at her when she ate her lunch quickly and left. Christie knew it wasn't considered ladylike at St. Margaret's to rush through your meal, but she had to search for a great idea for her science project.

  The table was already stacked with books. She had read about demonstrating how rainbows are formed, how to make a simple computer, how to make a miniature fountain, all kinds of things. But none of the ideas was fantastic. What was it Miss Finney had said? Your project had to show ingenuity.

  With a vengeance Christie opened the book she had just brought back.

  She read over a project on making ice. I could make ice cubes for everyone, Christie thought sarcastically. That would thrill Miss Finney. The whole class could drink soda while she lectured.

  "RIINGG!" The bell sounded, ending the period.

  Christie closed the book, then took it and three others to the checkout desk. She looked anxiously at the clock as she waited. She had Miss Woolsey for math next hour, and she didn't want to get in trouble for being late. Finally it was Christie's turn, and the librarian stamped her books and gave them back.

  The last bell was ringing as she hurried through the door to her math class.

  Christie took her seat and put the library books on the corner of her desk, out of her way. Then she pulled out her notebook and opened it to her math assignment. By that time Miss Woolsey was standing and peering at the class over her glasses.

  "Pass your assignments forward, please, ladies."

  After the assignments were turned in, Miss Woolsey began her lecture. She did it in her usual way, marching up and down the aisles and then up to the board every few minutes to explain a formula.

  Once Miss Woolsey stopped at Christie's desk and moved the library books so she could see the titles. She raised an eyebrow and walked on, without missing a word in her lecture.

  In science class Christie managed to avoid Miss Finney for most of the session. As usual the teacher called on Sarah Pike a zillion times and praised nearly every one of her answers.

  Christie watched closely, trying to see what Sarah was doing that made Miss Finney like her so much. The more she watched, the more frustrated she became. Sarah's answers and questions were okay, but they certainly weren't brilliant. Christie didn't understand.

  "On Friday," announced the teacher at the end of the period, "your history teacher, Mrs. Woodruff, and I will be taking you on a coach tour to the Tower of London. The tower has both historical and scientific significance. In its day it was quite an architectural achievement. We will see how our ancestors built such magnificent edifices and the tools and implements they used. I'm warning you," she added firmly, "it will not be a holiday outing. Later we will have a test on what you learned about the tower.

  "Now," she continued, "how are your projects for the competition coming along? It's not far off, so I hope you've made progress."

  "Mine's just about finished, Miss Finney," volunteered Sarah.

  "Very good, Miss Pike," said the teacher. "I expected as much from you.

  "The rest of you should concentrate on finding a single, outstanding idea, if you wish to do well. Mind you, I know Miss Woolsey. She and I come from the same town in Merseyside, and neither of us will score your projects easily. Nor will Mrs. Tillington."

  Christie sank down into her seat. She hoped Miss Finney wouldn't ask what she was going to do. She was nowhere near deciding on any idea for the competition, let alone on an outstanding one.

  "You're looking glum, Christie," remarked Phoebe as she took a seat next to her on the bus. "Is Miss Finney still giving you a hard time?"

  Christie managed a little smile. "I don't know if it's Miss Finney's fault or mine," she answered. "All of a sudden I seem to have lost it in science. It used to be one of my best subjects. I'm still doing well in math. I don't understand."

  "Maybe you've got brain fag," volunteered Nicki.

  Christie looked at her quizzically.

  "That means that you can't think straight," Phoebe explained.

  Christie smiled. "I don't think that's it. Besides, Sarah Pike's doing great in class. I bet she gets an A, and I can't tell what she's doing to deserve it more than anyone else."

  "Sarah is Miss Finney's blue-eyed girl," said Phoebe. "Miss Finney usually has one every semester. You can't judge yourself by Sarah."

  Christie sighed. "I've already gotten a D minus on one project in Miss Finney's class. I've really got to do fantastic on the rest of the tests if I'm going to get my grade up."

  "Don't worry, Christie." Phoebe patted her on the leg. "You can do it."

  Christie appreciated the sympathy, but the way things were going, she wasn't sure of herself anymore.

  That evening Christie carefully went through each of the science books she had brought home. Then she went into her parents' study and looked through their books for ideas. Nothing looked right. There wasn't a single idea that seemed unusual or interesting to her.

  Back in her room she asked her bears, "What am I going to do?"

  The bears looked back at her with their happy smiles but didn't volunteer any answers.

  There was a knock on her door, and her mother stuck her head in. "Telephone, honey."

  Christie took it in the study.

  "Hi, Christie. It's Connie. What fantastic thing were you doing when I interrupted?"

  She laughed. "Trying to find an idea for a science project."

  "Ouch. Can't you find better ways to spend your time?"

  "Lots of ways," replied Christie. "But I don't have any choice. I've got to come up with a spectacular idea real soon."

  "Well, I've got a spectacular
idea for you," Connie said.

  "Oh? What is it? I can use all the help I can get."

  "Why don't you go to the cinema with me on Friday?"

  Christie laughed. "That won't help me find a project."

  "No. But it will make me feel good."

  Christie didn't know how to respond. Connie was awfully nice, and she had loved going horseback riding with him and the others. She chewed on her lower lip. If she refused to go out with him one more time, he might decide she didn't like him, and that wasn't true.

  But what about Chase? She had told him she wasn't going to date anyone else. If she said yes to Connie, she'd have to be honest and tell Chase. She wasn't ready to do that.

  "Connie . . ."

  "Yes?"

  "Would you hate me if I said no? It's not because I don't like you," she added hurriedly. "I really do. It's just that I told this boy back home that I wasn't dating anyone else."

  "You could tell him you started," suggested Connie hopefully.

  "I can't." Christie spoke softly. "He's not dating anyone, and I kind of promised."

  "No harm in my trying, is there?"

  "No. None at all," said Christie. She hated to say no to him. He was so nice. But if she dated Connie, it would be like cheating on Chase. She wasn't ready to do a thing like that.

  CHAPTER 8

  "Eleanore and I are going to the cinema on Friday, Christie. Can you come?" asked Phoebe. The two of them, along with Nicki and Eleanore, were standing in a corner near the stairs in front of St. Margaret's.

  "I'd love to," answered Christie. "Aren't you going, Nicki?"

  "I'm going with Davey," she replied. "He said Connie was going to ask you to go. If you accepted, we'd double."

  "Connie did ask me," said Christie. "I said no."

  "Still got a crush on that cove in the States, have you?" asked Eleanore.

  "I wish you guys could meet Chase," responded Christie. "He's so good-looking, and he won six gold medals in swimming in the Southern California Junior Olympics. In his last letter he told me he's going to be trying out for the East Coast junior Olympics. I'm sure he'll win a bunch more."