Mrs Dickins-Thomson and Tara Kelly led the way to the grandstands. “No chewing gum, Mr Blackburn,” the headmistress instructed as one of the boys walked past. “Take your hands out of your pockets, Mr Adams, and stop slouching! You are representing your school so stand up straight, please.” As the students took their seats, filling five rows of the grandstand, Heath Brompton emerged from the riders’ area. He looked around the crowded stands for somewhere to sit and then reluctantly took the seat next to Tara. “Hello, Heath,” Tara said. “How’s the team looking? ” “Woefully underprepared,” Heath replied. “They’re going to disgrace the school. They aren’t ready to play at this level.” Tara frowned. “I’ve been watching the girls train and I’d have to disagree.” “Oh, so you’re a polo expert now?” Heath shot back at her. Tara shook her head in disbelief. “You’ve always been like this, Heath, even when we were at school together. Why is it so hard for you to grasp that the girls at Blainford are every bit as capable in every branch of equestrianism as the boys?”
