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Chapter Four
The third period saw an intense burst of activity. Norton, whilst naturally seeking to put the match beyond Thurlingham's reach with at least another goal, were forced onto the defensive by a home team frantically needing to even the scores. The front three players hurled themselves forward at different stages and Tara began to relax into the flow of the game, determined now not to allow her earlier error to throw her game, as that would only lead to further losses.
***
Dominic had little knowledge or appreciation of the sport, although he admitted that it was slightly less coma inducing than cricket, but he could still appreciate the Norton team's tactics. Norton knew that Norton were the better team, on paper at least, therefore they had looked for an early lead, then closed ranks in a defensive posture to maintain it, shutting Thurlingham out whilst looking for any opportunity to put themselves even further ahead. Their attack would be seeking to exploit what they now perceived as the weakest link on the defence - Tara. Dominic smiled slightly. The fascination the game now held for him was very much linked to the reaction of a specific personality type under pressure. Tara had let the opposition score and that failure had rattled her. The Dominant type of personality would now be expected to buckle down, be patient, calm and alert, guarding the goal with increased care and caution.
The submissive personality was a different matter though. One type may become increasingly nervous, dwell upon the error and in doing so set themselves up to repeat it. The other may see the fact that their team-mates were now on the counter-attack and that theirs was essentially now a waiting game as a temptation to try and atone for their mistake. They would over-compensate and may in fact fail by doing so, either by committing a foul or even, wound tight by guilt and impatience try to go for goal themselves, leaving their own goal unguarded, and vulnerable should their attack go wrong. Of course, things weren't always so black and white: there were many other permutations of behaviour. He decided to put on a little mental bet with himself as to which course of action she would take – there, choice made. Now, who said polo was dull?
***
Tara would certainly have agreed with that assessment; although still unnerved by the early goal, she was not about to go to pieces as yet, thanks very much! Norton's number 1, Hannah Chakravarty, was making her somewhat nervous though. The Asian girl was riding backwards and forwards at the halfway line, waiting for her team to get a break. At present there was an untidy scrap going on in front of the Norton goal, the ball almost lost in the melee of flying mallets and trampling hooves. The game was starting to become ill-tempered, and if the umpire had been able to make out some of the shots for which those mallets had been used there would undoubtedly have been a penalty handed out by now. As it was he looked about ready to wade in and call a time-out. But, ultimately, the scrap was merely sound and fury, signifying nothing, with little chance of either team gaining an advantage.
In her position in front of her own goal, Tara chafed visibly. She was dying to pile in and assist her team-mates, but had just enough self-discipline to stay where she was for the moment.
And this was a fortunate decision as seconds later the ball was flicked out of the scrum by an anonymous hoof and rolled sedately along the smoothly shaven turf, largely unnoticed by the majority of both teams, except for one person – Tara.
Tara was in an agony of indecision – try for the ball or stay in defence? She knew what the right decision was, but then saw that Chakravarty had not yet noticed the ball, and could no longer contain herself. With her heart suddenly pumping fit to burst and every part of her body afire with adrenaline she spurred her third mount, Storm Chaser, into action. She hadn't ridden him often before, so the level of trust shared with Glory and Thunder wasn't yet there, but he was steady and calm, and quick to respond. The dark gelding, perhaps picking up his rider's urgency, eagerly sped into a gallop.
Hannah Chakravarty heard the beat of hooves behind her, and was alerted to the sudden danger. Her head swung from side to side as she sought to locate the ball, knowing that that was the only thing that would induce a number 4 to leave the goal area at a time like this. Then she noticed the small plastic ball, rolling gently to a halt not five yards away and also noted her team-mates and three-quarters of Thurlingham breaking away from their rather enjoyable rumble, and starting to focus on the whereabouts of the ball.
***
Dominic watched Tara's mad dash for the ball and smiled. "I win," he murmured.
***
Norton's number 4, Julia Gardner, peeled back towards her own goal, while Rachel Saunders, the number 3, and Sarah Steele, the number 2, made a dual dash for the ball, as did Hannah Chakravarty with Tara now hot on her heels. Thurlingham's first three were left trailing and confused, as the play started back towards their own end. Tara was moving into position, deftly steering her steed in for an interception, when it suddenly became clear to her that this was three against one, and not only that, she was the only one in anything like a defensive position. She had blundered, leaving the goal unprotected.
Shit!
Ignoring the ball she swerved round and galloped back to her position.
***
"Damn," Dominic muttered to himself and leant back in his chair once more. Oh well, the game wasn't over yet. Plenty of time left to prove his evaluation.
***
As she pulled up in front of the goal, Tara was relieved to see her team hurrying back to assist her, even as Norton had seized the ball and were making another attack. She moved forward a few steps, but not enough to leave the goal wide open.
***
The tattoo of hoof beats rose up and was stifled in the humid Berkshire air as six players chased that 3 ½ inch plastic ball as if their lives depended on it, carefully tended divots of turf hurled up in their wake. Chakravarty knocked the ball on to Steele narrowly avoiding an interception by Thurlingham's number two, Catherine Johnson. Steele bore down on the Thurlingham goal, where Tara stood ready and alert, watching like a hawk for any feint or attempt to pass, or a dummy run from another of the team.
Then it happened. A fierce drumming of hooves and Saunders galloped up from the left, obviously as part of some pre-arranged tactic, deftly evading Thurlingham's number 3, Dawn Taylor, who was caught out whilst marking Steele.
The flicker of movement registered in the corner of Tara's right eye, and at the same time she noticed the Norton number 2 almost imperceptibly changing position. It looked like she was turning for a neck shot, evidently to pass to the poaching Saunders. Tara read all of this in the space of a second and knew exactly what she had to do.
She pulled Storm Chaser around and backed off to the goal, as Steele sent the ball rocketing to her team-mate. Saunders' eyes widened as she saw that Tara had anticipated their stratagem, but was now committed. There was little hope in her heart as she automatically made her shot. Wheeling her horse round, she suddenly noticed that two of her team-mates were now in the Thurlingham half with her. They were ready to offer back-up if need be, but in their eagerness to score again, they had left their own number 4 at the mercy of Thurlingham's 1 and 2 who, the instant they saw Tara moving in to defend the goal, had gambled and made two separate charging runs up the left and right sides of the field.
The ball skimmed over the grass as if borne on a cushion of air, however its trajectory was slowly taking it up in an arc, and Tara knew that she was going to have to knock it out of mid-air. That baseball practice last summer was about to come in very handy...She carefully judged her angle and let rip with a thundering deflection. The ball cracked satisfyingly off the mallet, curved elegantly past the rival team and slid neatly past Taylor, who casually knocked it on to Johnson who was speeding goal-wards.
Tara drew in a deep draught of air. This habit of forgetting to breathe on tense occasions was pretty inconvenient sometimes!
The Norton players suddenly realised that the fairly routine blocked shot had been converted to a precision pass that had their own goal looking terribly vulnerable
The ball and Johnson's mallet came together as if magnetically attracted and after a further two short knocks, she fired it straight between the legs of the Norton number 4's pony and into the net like a cannonball.
***
There was a polite cheer and smattering of applause from the Thurlingham supporters, almost immediately followed by the clang of the bell, signifying the end of the third period, with the score at 1-1.
Exultation swelled up in Tara until she thought she would burst. She stood up in her stirrups and whooped with delight, her mallet swinging joyously in an arc. Her earlier error had been erased by this, her assistance, in what had turned into a glorious equaliser. She now felt a whole lot better, and knew they could pull this back their way! Things were looking up!
***
So, she didn't buckle under pressure and eventually learned from her mistakes. Dominic grinned inwardly. Perfect material. If only…
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