Chapter 4

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We hurry after the person, and so do about a fifth of the people in the car park. And with the amount of people in the carpark, that is quite a few people.

"Do you know where we're going?" Bertie has managed to stay next to me in the rush.

"No," I reply. "But I think we're going back on ourselves."

Sure enough, we stop in front of the big stone building we'd first seen. The person leading us climbs up a few of the steps at the front so we can see them. It is a short woman with black hair twisted up in a bun, and she looked about thirty five. 

"Welcome to Silverstone Horse Riding Academy. I am Miss Knight, one if your teachers here. Your luggage, if you were wondering, will be taken up to your dorm rooms."

"That's a relief," Bertie whispers next to me. I nod, but am still focused on Miss Knight.

"Firstly, you will here a speech by your Headmistress for your time here, Miss Hill. So follow me, please."

We follow after her, through the front doors, into a large reception area with a high cieling, wooden floor and a strict-looking receptionist sitting at a desk, on the phone to someone. But Miss Knight didn't stop and we go on into what must be the main hall. 

It's a huge room, about sixty metres lengthways and fourty in width. The ginormous double doors we entered through are at the back, and that the opposite end is a large stage, with a podium set up. Speech time, I guess. There are chairs arranged in rows facing the stage, and Miss Knight leads us to sit down on them. I find myself on the end, inbetween the isle and Bertie.

"Apparently Miss Hill always gives an introductory speech every year. Opal told me. With a lot of eye-rolling, may I add," Bertie whispers. I smirk. She sounds like she's a mix of both her sisters, from what I can tell so far.

We're sitting in our hard, plastic chairs for a while before a small door behind the stage opens, and our headmistress walks out. 

Miss Hill is a tall, elegant-looking woman, with light brown hair streaked with silver. She looks about mid-fifties, but somehow not old. Her heeled-ankle boots make her appear even taller, and her hair is twisted up in a black clasp. She eludes a strict but fair vibe.

Walking over to the podium, she stands and talks into the microphone.

"Hello, Year Eights, and welcome to Silverstone Horse Riding Academy. This school is one of the most prestigious in Great Britain, and many of you here will go on to be successful in the equestrian world as adults. Many of today's champions had their training here; they rode through our fields and in our arenas, they learnt to ride like a rider here, they walked through these halls. Being accepted here means almost certain future fame for you."

In front of us, I see a few girls exchange glances and laugh quietly.

"But it's not all fun and games. Our motto here at Silverstone is 'perfection is not enough'. And this is the message you must carry with you all through your time here. Whatever you archive, however you do in lessons or competitions, it isn't enough. There is no end to your training here. You can never be perfect. Perfect isn't enough. You must be more than perfect. You must be so good, that when you finish your routine, or jump the last jump, or gallop over the finish line, people are so astounded they can not even applaud you.

Here at Silverstone, students may choose to keep their own horses here or borrow one from the school. If you have chosen to borrow a horse, they will stay with you your entire time here. They will be your companions. Treat them well, and they will treat you well. If you've brought your own horse with you, I hope you find the stables satisfactory. 

We teachers also take at heart the motto, 'perfection is not enough'. We all strive to provide you with the best teaching and instruction possible, so that nothing hinders your learning. As well as this, your attitude towards normal lessons and equine lessons must also be perfect. 

Nearly all of you here are paying to receive this education. But you have been narrowed down from thousands of pupils who all applied, based on your history of riding, and your application papers. I am confident that every pupil in this room has what it takes to attend this academy.

However, every year one pupil, amongst hundreds, achieves the school scholarship. They compete against hundreds who have even made it to the final, and show all the characteristics of a true member of Silverstone Horse Riding Academy. The scholarship, in my opinion, is one of our finest traditions, as it enables someone without the money, but with all the talent, to attend."

The same girls who laughed a few minutes ago do so again, and it looks like they're having a hard time staying quiet. I duck my head and feel my cheeks redden.

"This year, the scholarship pupil is..." She checks her paper. Oh God. Please don't let her ask me to stand up. 

"Jessica Brooke. Jessica? Please stand up."

Bertie nudges me, and I slowly get to my feet. Everyone in the hall turns round or cranes their necks to look at me. The laughing girls all wear smirks, and I just really want the ground to swallow me from where I stand right now. 

"Jessica, congratulations on winning this honour. You may sit down."

And I quickly do. Bertie looks at me sympathetically.

"So take with you our motto. Perfection is not enough. Carry it with you, and remember, you are never finished. There is always a higher archievement to be had. Thank you, and good luck."

She bows her head, and most of us clap. That was a good speech, in my opinion. Miss Hill dissapears through the stage door. 

As soon as she's gone, I turn to Bertie.

"Bertie, you don't think less of me because I'm the scholarship winner, do you?"

She shakes her head firmly. "Of course not. It makes me think more of you. But, and I'm just warning you, there will be people who do." As she says this, she nods towards the group of girls who were laughing.

"Thanks," I reply quietly.













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