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I waved to the guys and Mum as I took up position at the start, and the officials counted down from ten and we were off. Samson opened out into a gallop, ears pricked forward as we charged towards the first fence. We cleared it easily and the spectators let up a cheer which made my heart sing. I gave him a pat and tried to relax, keeping his pace fast but steady as we headed for the first of the water jumps.
He didn’t falter, jumping right through and galloping up and over the bank the other side. He took a solid looking triple and his pace was perfect, and he gave his all on the straight as we made our way to a coffin jump. He cleared it big, but it didn’t matter, straight into another gallop and I was loving it. We were both loving it.
I felt the thrum of my body, my concentration on my posture, on the hands that guided Samson, and we were as one. I moved with him, felt the thump of his hooves on the ground, and this was everything, everything I wanted.
Halfway through the course and I realised we were in with a shot, maybe not of coming top, but certainly of beating Verity’s time. I’d heard she’d had an awkward jump, a ditch right at the end of the course, and she’d gone in wrong, almost sending her mare tumbling, only to recover with just a lagging pace to stumble over the finish line.
We could take her.
As long as we kept it up.
I encouraged Samson on, through water and over a wide table jump, over a fallen tree fence and over another bank, and he was doing so well, so fucking well. The spectators were cheering and the commentators were saying good things, and I was smiling. Really smiling.
My heart started thumping as we came to the final third, and my adrenaline picked up. I knew our time was good, I just knew it. A quick glance at my watch told me we were in the game to beat Verity’s time, but it would be close. Her mare was faster than we were, more skilled, but we were doing it, a solid effort, giving it our all.
I urged Samson on, and he did me proud, even though I felt he was tiring. I pushed him over the final straits, and he put his heart into it, tearing along to the final hurdles. The biggest fence of the course and he jumped it with ease, landing a little hard but he recovered well, back into another solid gallop. His ears were still forward and his heart was still all in it, and so was mine.
I dared to dream, dared to hope, my heart bursting with pride as we curved on round to the final section.
I knew Rick and Carl would be waiting there at the final jump, Mum, and my dad, and probably even Verity, too.
It would be our moment. Our moment of victory.
Please let us win, just let us win.
Samson saw the jump coming and I saw Rick and Carl, Mum and my dad, too. I tried not to look at them, zoning out of the gathered crowd and focusing back on the fence. The drop was quite big, and Samson wouldn’t see it, I angled him into position, but our time would be close, so I gave him a squeeze encouraged him onwards, and I was so happy, knowing how solid we looked, how in sync we were.
This would be our victory, our sweetest moment.
I tried to be smart, aiming for the far edge to give us a couple of paces advantage on the final stretch. I tried to look our best, tried to show off, tried to prove how great we were, how perfect we were, how great my Samson was.
And I took it wrong.
I made a mistake.
I gave Samson mixed signals, and he turned awkwardly, taking the fence mid-way. He was off balance when he took off, and I was, too. I couldn’t adjust my position quickly enough to compensate, couldn’t guide him for the drop, and in my hesitation he’d lost some height.
A moment of horror as I realised the inevitable, my breath leaving me as I felt Samson’s rear hooves clip the top rail. I didn’t loose the reins quickly enough, and I was too far forward in my saddle. He hit the ground heavily on his front legs, and I couldn’t sit back to rebalance him.
We toppled, and I felt it in slow motion. Felt him lurching forward and taking me with him.
His front legs went from under him, his unbalanced rear end crashing forwards to send us both tumbling, and the bank was unyielding, unforgiving.
I heard a gasp from the crowd, and my own heart in my ears.
The whistle of the wind.
A weird stillness.
And then a thump as we landed, a terrible sound as we skidded. And pain. In my leg. Pain as his weight rolled onto me, and pinned me.
My head bashed into the ground, and the world felt far away, my vision blurred.
And everything hurt.
People and screams, and Samson’s breath.
And then it all faded away.
