opened it up.
âThese are the Blainford yearbooks,â he said. âThey date back almost eighty years to when the academy first opened its doors.â
Mr Wainwright looked up at the shelves. âThese books record our schoolâs history â and those records would all be lost if anything happened to the library.â
He plonked the heavy volume he had been holding into Georgieâs hands.
âWhich is why I am assigning you the task of digitising it. I need these books scanned for storage.â
âAll of them?â Georgie squeaked.
âOh, thereâs no way youâll get through more than a few volumes today,â Mr Wainwright said. âIf you got Fatigues every week for the rest of the year then you could finish the job!â
He smiled at Georgie. âThatâs a joke, Parker.â
âVery funny, sir,â Georgie said. Wainwright didnât realise that at the rate she was going with Conrad she would single-handedly have the whole library on a hard drive in no time.
Digitising the archives sounded complicated, but in fact it was really just a matter of turning the pages of the book one at a time and scanning each side as you went. In half an hour Georgie had worked her way through the first volume of the Blainford yearbook from 1930-1940. She was about to attack the next volume from 1940-1950 when she thought better of it and pushed the book back on to the shelf. It didnât matter what order she scanned the books in â so why not choose the era that actually interested her? Her eyes skimmed the spines of the volumes until she found the yearbook from 1980-1990. She opened the book and skipped forward to 1986 â the year that her mother had been a senior at the school. She scanned the student list, looking under âPâ for Parker and then suddenly realised that her mother would have been called by her maiden name, Ginny Lang.
Georgie flipped the pages back and the name leapt out at her: Virginia Lang . There were pictures of riders and stories of triumphs and trophies, and then she saw her own face staring back at her from the pages. Well, it had looked like her face at first. Her mother was sitting astride a grey mare, smiling for the camera, flanked by two other riders. Georgie instantly recognised them â Lucinda Milwood and Tara Kelly. The image was captioned: Senior Eventing Class.
Georgie flicked through the next few pages. There were pictures of pupils showjumping, a spread about the scurry racing squad and the dressage team. Suddenly there was a picture that made Georgie stop and look again. It was a brilliant action shot of the Blainford polo team. The four players were haring down the field and the player in the lead was riding at full gallop, hanging out of the saddle like an acrobat, leaning low over one knee about to take a swing at the ball with her mallet. The player was wearing a polo helmet, but even so, Georgie recognised the face immediately.
It was her mother.
Chapter Five
G eorgie straightened up nervously on Belleâs back. She had tacked the mare up that afternoon in her cross-country gear, thinking that it was the most appropriate equipment that she had. She was wearing her whitest jodhpurs, and her long black boots along with her house colours â the red shirt of Badminton House. But as she lined up alongside the other riders, she was acutely aware that she didnât fit in. It wasnât just that the rest of the riders in this class were tacked up with their full polo kit of standing martingales, gag bits and double reins. It was also the fact that in this line-up of a dozen riders, Georgie Parker was the one and only girl.
âWe have a new pupil with us today,â polo master Heath Brompton told the class. He looked down at the piece of paper in his hands and then did a double take when he saw Georgie. âGeorge Parker?â
âGeorgie,â she corrected him. âItâs short for
Carol Durand, Summer Prescott