Charlotte and the Starlet 2 Read Free Page B

While not exactly friends
yet, they didn't hate one another.
    'And nothing. Just wanted to warn you he seemed
pretty taken with me.'
    The grey mare snorted.
    'Warrior and I are just friends. He's broken the
hearts of too many fillies and mares for me to even
consider him. Good luck.'
    'Hey, I'm not the least bit interested in that big
black show-off.'
    'Sure you're not, Leila.'
    Leila was miffed. She was a movie star. Okay, an exmovie
star. Warrior might think he was something
special but that cut no mustard with her. She had her
friend Charlotte and that was the only friend she
needed.

    Charlotte noted she had been assigned the Trigger
room on the second floor of the main building. She
carted her pack up the wide, polished staircase
and along dark, wood-panelled corridors until she
found the two-bed room at the back of the building. Its
small window had a view out over the paddocks to the
woods beyond. There was no sign of another occupant
and Charlotte wondered if she would have the room to
herself. That would be fine by her. Last term she had
spent most of her time in the windowless boiler-room
in the basement, which had been far more preferable to
sharing with The Evil Three with whom she had
originally been assigned.
    Charlotte unpacked and hung her few clothes,
taking time to admire the new dress she had brought
with her. A pretty blue with a black trimmed neck,
Leila had helped her design it. Charlotte had Mrs
Devine sew it up in return for cleaning up her yard. It
was the most beautiful bit of clothing Charlotte had
ever owned. There was just enough time to shower
and change into her dress and make it down to the
dining room for dinner.

    For Caroline Strudworth, this evening should have
been a happy one. There was little that gave her more
pleasure than an intake of young equestriennes, girls
who would be groomed for international competition,
with a view to one day representing their country
in the Olympics. Strudworth had been eagerly
anticipating her squad going up against those of her
old riding 'enemies' like Christiane Von List, who
headed the German equivalent of the JOES, or
Tammy-Lee Teetlebaum the Third, who quartered
herself in leafy New England and looked after young
American competitors. Being spinsters like her, the
old battles they once waged personally on the
arena were now continued by proxy through their
young charges. It should have been enough to get
Strudworth doing somersaults but, regrettably, there
was something of a sheet-anchor to her high spirits at
the moment. Something called Chadwick.
    It had been observed by many that Caroline
Strudworth had assumed the characteristics of the
beloved quadrupeds that had dominated her life. She
was tall, her face long, her mouth wide, her teeth the
dimensions of tiles on a bathroom wall. And when she
laughed, it was with a distinct whinny. Alas, there was
no laughing tonight.
    Strudworth's older sister, Laura, had long ago
married Mitchell, who had the personality of a teapot
and the brains of an iguana and had successfully
passed both traits on to his son, Chadwick. As a four-year-old,
Chadwick had thought it fun to yank the tail
of poor Zucchini, Strudworth's fabulous jumper, who
now spent his days stuffed, inside a glass case in her
office. As a six-year-old, Chadwick whined for 'treats',
refusing to ride because horses were smelly. She had
not seen Chadwick for many years, something for
which she had been extremely grateful. Chadwick was
an accountant who had worked himself to a position
in a company where he fired people from their jobs
but, in an ironic twist, had been forced to fire himself
after a bout of company cost-cutting. Laura had
prevailed on her sister to find him work at Thornton
Downs. Under normal circumstances Strudworth
might have declined, but Laura had not been well of
late and Strudworth felt obliged.
    Chadwick had bowled in a month ago full of ideas
to make Thornton Downs 'efficient'. He'd already got
some of the staff offside by