Page 38 of One Last Thing
‘It’s okay.’
Dad fights a smirk. ‘Explain to me how you fell off a stationary horse again?’
‘I didn’t fall off! I was getting off and I stumbled a bit as I landed.’
‘A bit?’ he contests, raising his eyebrows.
‘Okay, a lot,’ I admit before groaning, burying my face in my hands and muffling my voice. ‘It’s so embarrassing. Do you thinkeveryonesaw?’
‘I didn’t see it.’
‘Yeah, but you were with the other parents. Everyone else was in the stables.’
‘They were probably concentrating on dismounting their own horses safely. I wouldn’t worry.’
I run my fingers down my face. ‘They must think I’m such a loser.’
‘You arenota loser. And if you need proof of that—’ he picks up the rosette with ‘1’ on it and waves it in my face‘—then here you go. First place!’
‘In one event.’
He sighs, dropping his hand. ‘Megan, do you have to be so down on yourself all the time? You shouldn’t say, “in one event” in that low droopy voice, you should say, “Yes! I won an event! And I amamazing!”’
‘I can’t go around saying, “I amamazing!”’
‘Well, you are. I was so proud of you today.’
‘You have to say that, you’re my dad.’
‘I mean it, you’re a natural equestrian.’
I smile at him. ‘Thanks for signing me up. I was so nervous.’
‘It’s normal to be nervous of new things. But important you do them all the same. Look at you. One week later and you have a bunch of new friends and a host of new skills.’
‘I could make those skills even better if I had my own horse,’ I say brightening.
He chortles. ‘Nice try. Where would we keep it?’
‘Hm. Maybe we’d need to buy a new house too with fields and a big paddock.’
‘This is a conversation for your mother,’ he says, winking at me. ‘Tell her she’s going to need to write a few more bestsellers so we can afford your dream countryside mansion, horses and stables included.’
My smile fading, I pick at my nails. ‘I wish Mum could have come today.’
‘She wishes that, too.’
‘She said she’d be there.’
He tilts his head at me. ‘You know how these publicity meetings can be. They always go on longer than she thinks.’ He taps my leg pointedly as I continue to look down at my hands. ‘Hey, she really wanted to be there, Megan.’
I nod, not looking at him. I want to believe him, I do. But I told her how much I’d improved since starting the week and I wanted her to see. She won’t get a chance now until the next time I’m lucky enough to ride. I know Mum’s work is important but she said she’d be there. It’s the same at parents’ evenings and sports matches. Sometimes I worry Mum doesn’t believe my achievements or maybe she doesn’t think they’re exciting enough. If she came to watch, she might realise I’m quite good at some stuff. At least she made it to speech day at the end of term. She was wearing such a big hat, you couldn’t miss her.
‘Dawn Dixon!’ I heard people whisper, eyes widening as she gave other parents dramatic air kisses so they didn’t notice she couldn’t remember their names.
I didn’t win any awards that day. She needn’t have bothered coming. When we got home and I was upstairs, I heard her say to Dad, ‘That was a bloody long day’ before he told her to lower her voice. Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t come today. She probably would have missed my winning event but then had front row seats to merolling over on my ankle as I got off a horse that wasn’t even moving.
‘Are you okay?’ Dad asks me, studying my expression.
