“Exactly,” Alice sighed. “All that would do is turn everyone against the Abbey even more. That’s the exact opposite of what Nick Webb wanted. He had hoped everyone would be part of the Abbey.”
“Well, he said that,” Charlie pointed out, “but as soon as he brought the ponies to the yard he started blocking off the Abbey rides, without telling anyone why.”
“And that leads to the third mystery,” Rosie said. “Why has Nick Webb suddenly changed his mind about the Abbey rides? What made him close them off, and why is he letting Mr Pyke shoot at riders to keep them away?”
The girls sat in silence for a moment, deep in thought.
“Well, maybe something happened after he moved into the Abbey to make him change his mind,” Alice finally said. “It’s the only explanation.”
“But we’re still no closer to finding out what,” Charlie sighed.
The wind whistled outside, rattling the barn walls and sending snakes of icy air in through the gaps. The girls snuggled deeper into their blankets for a second.
Rosie looked at the newspaper again. She skimmed through it, then frowned.
“What’s up?” Alice asked, hunkering down further into her blanket.
Rosie used her cinnamon roll to point at the words. “It says there a powerful motorbike.”
“So?” Charlie asked.
“Well, I don’t know much about motorbikes,” Rosie shrugged, “but I didn’t think Billy’s bike sounded that powerful at all…”
The others looked at each other, quizzically.
“No, it’s got to be Billy,” Mia said decisively. “Him letting the horses out of their fields is the one mystery we are sure about.”
“That bit might make sense,” Charlie said, feeling impatient, “but we’re only guessing at why Billy’s let the horses out. And we still don’t know what’s made Nick Webb change his mind about keeping the rides open. What if Alice is right, and something’s happened inside the Abbey grounds?”
“If that is the case, the only thing we can do,” Rosie sighed, “is head back for another poke about, see if we can unearth anything.”
The four of them sat glumly in the torchlit silence. These were the first mysteries that the Pony Detectives wished they hadn’t got involved with. But before they had a chance to say as much out loud to each other, the barn door creaked open. A pale face loomed into view, spooking them so much that they squealed in fright and nearly fell off their hay bales.
“Charlie, your dad’s here,” Rosie’s brother Will called out, grinning into the darkness.
Acting like they hadn’t been scared, the girls raced out of the barn and back to the yard. After shouting out a goodbye to Rosie, the others piled into Charlie’s car.
On the way home, Charlie’s dad chatted away to them about their last week at school, and about Christmas. But their minds were miles away, filled with thoughts about motorbikes, escaping ponies and secrets locked deep within the Abbey grounds.
The final week at school passed in a blur. There was a Christmas carol concert held in the main hall, cards exchanged on the school bus and in class, a school play and a non-uniform day. Everyone was in really high spirits except India and Archie. The pair had kept themselves to themselves the whole week, not even joining in with the high spirited banter on the bus. It hadn’t helped that Sophie and some of the other horsey girls had been overheard chatting loudly about Billy Pyke, and how everyone suspected he was the one letting all the ponies out of their fields.
Alice had felt terrible for Archie, especially when she noticed him look round anxiously at India. India had given him a stare in return which was halfway between sympathetic and a warning, and he’d turned back, saying nothing. The only good thing was that at least Sophie had looked mortified when she’d realised Archie had overheard.
But India looked down in the dumps on the last day of term, too, despite the fact that they were breaking up at lunchtime. The Pony Detectives didn’t get it. They couldn’t wait to have the chance to spend some extra time with Cracker and Frostie, before their relocation to Hope Farm the next day.
“What’s up?” one of India’s best friends asked as India slumped down on her seat in the school bus. “You’ve been miserable all week – did someone forget to tell you it was Christmas?”
The Pony Detectives stopped chattering amongst themselves, and began to eavesdrop on the conversation.
“It’s just horsey stuff,” India sighed. “Rumour had a fall last Sunday when I was hacking in the Abbey grounds. The vet said she’s twisted her knee. We ice packed it and cold hosed it, but the vet’s ruled her out of the Winter Cup. I don’t suppose you know of any polo ponies that are all trained up and ready to go, do you? Oh, and cheap as chips, too. Dad can’t afford much at the moment.”
“Sorry, India,” her friend joked, “I’m right out of polo ponies just now.”
India struggled to raise a smile.
“Looks like my team’s chances of even competing in the Winter Cup, let alone winning it, are getting slimmer by the day,” India sighed. “Stormchaser’s our only real hope. I just hope he doesn’t get injured between now and New Year’s Eve. Otherwise our very first attempt at hosting an event at the Abbey will be a complete washout. None of the other big clubs will take us seriously.”
“I doubt anyone will bother to turn up, anyway,” one of Sophie’s friends from Greenfield’s Riding School said under her breath, just loud enough for the Pony Detectives to hear.
Charlie and Mia turned round to look through the gap in the seats at Rosie and Alice. All of them were feeling uneasy about India’s latest revelation.
“That’s the second pony injured at the Abbey in a week,” Charlie whispered, keeping her voice low so that Archie couldn’t hear. “First, Thimble twisted his fetlock, now Rumour’s strained her knee!”
“And India’s scared about Stormchaser getting injured,” Rosie added under her breath. “What is going on in that place?”
“I don’t know,” Alice grimaced, “but at this rate, with Billy letting horses out of fields, Mr Pyke taking pot shots at riders and all those injuries, I don’t think the Abbey can possibly make it as a successful polo club.”
“Well, let’s hope not, anyway,” Mia said, “for the sake of every pony round here.”
At that moment the bus came to a stop, just before it reached the Abbey entrance. While some of the pupils carried on chatting, others wiped the windows to get a better look at what was happening outside. A woman leading two smart chestnut polo ponies along the lane and into the Abbey grounds was just about visible.
India instantly perked up, dashing to the front of the bus and grabbing Archie on the way past. “Come on, Archie,” she said breezily. “Look! Maddie’s moving into the Abbey! Dad said she was thinking of switching her polo ponies to our club, from Perryvale’s, but it looks like she actually has! Great news!”
“Is it?” Archie said, looking more worried than delighted.
The bus driver opened the doors and the pair jumped down, amidst shouts of ‘Happy Christmas’. Archie dragged his bag behind him following India into the Abbey grounds.
“That’s weird,” Mia said, tilting her head to one side for a moment as the bus pulled away and excited chatter filled the air again.
“What is?” Charlie asked.
“It’s just that with everything that’s been going on recently,” Mia replied, “why would anyone want to move from Mr Perryvale’s polo yard to the Abbey?”
“If you want my opinion,” Rosie said, “the world of polo is utterly mad.”
“Too right,” Sophie piped up.
The Pony Detectives looked at each other. As enthusiastic as they’d been to get involved a few weeks ago, things had changed dramatically since then. The polo yard seemed to lurk at the centre of their mysteries, like a menacing shadow. They were convinced that something sinister was going on there, but they weren’t sure they wanted to find out what.
FRAN HOPE appeared prompt
ly at ten o’ clock the next morning. It was cold out, but the sky was a bright blue and the sun was shining.
The Pony Detectives had got to the yard extra early, to make sure Cracker and Frostie were sparkling and ready to go to Hope Farm. They had also spent most of their free afternoon the day before grooming and petting them, bringing them into the yard, where they could tie them up outside the stables. Their coats hadn’t been groomed for ages, and bits of their winter fluff came out in chunks and drifted across the yard. When Fran arrived at the Blackberry Farm gate, the girls had mixed emotions about saying goodbye.
“They’ve put on a good bit of weight already. They look magnificent!” Fran said, smiling broadly as she cast her expert eye over them. “They’ve been trained, and loved – that much I’d guess. Who on earth would want to dump them? We’ll probably never know… Anyway, let’s get them going.”
The girls insisted on taking it in turns to lead Cracker and Frostie. They walked out of Blackberry Farm calmly, with Charlie and Mia flanking Cracker in the lead, while Rosie and Alice walked either side of Frostie just behind. He’d begun to settle, and was now almost as relaxed as Cracker, but he’d never be as bold. When he accidentally trod on the back of Rosie’s welly boot, he nudged her, looking apologetic. Rosie rested her arm over his neck for a few strides, letting him know he was forgiven. Fran strode along at the head of the little line, looking out for potential spooks, like dogs waiting at gateways, ready to burst out barking.
The horses kept their rugs on for the chilly walk along the lanes. The girls were wrapped up warmly but their noses and cheeks still turned red, and their toes froze before they’d even reached half way.
“We’ll have a hot drink when we get to the Farm,” Fran said, walking backwards for a few strides and admiring the horses’ calm steps, “once these two are settled in.”
“My stomach’s rumbling already,” Rosie moaned, as they marched along at the horses’ speed, “I should’ve bought some of Mum’s cinnamon rolls to eat on the way.”
“I’m sure I can find something in one of the cupboards for you,” Fran smiled, knowing Rosie well, “if you can hang on that long.”
“The cross country route would have been much quicker,” Rosie pointed out. “We’d nearly be there by now.”
Fran had decided that it would be safer and easier to take the horses along the lanes. There would be less to spook them in the hedgerows and they wouldn’t be stumbling over rutted, iron hard earth. This longer route took them in the direction of the Perryvale and Abbey estates, and as they mooched along one of the nearby lanes, they heard a smooth engine purring behind them. As they turned to look, the Perryvale Range Rover pulled up alongside. Rosie noticed that the big splodge from Dancer’s lick on the bonnet had been meticulously polished off.
Mr Perryvale’s cool gaze took in the two horses, as he cruised along slowly. He lowered his window and waved to Fran. The unmistakable smell of stale cigars wafted out.
“Not more escaped horses?” Mr Perryvale asked, knitting his eyebrows in concern.
“Luckily not,” Fran smiled back. “Although I say luckily, I’m not quite sure that’s the case. These two were abandoned a couple of weeks ago.”
Mr Perryvale nodded. “I see,” he said, his voice neutral as his eyes ran over the horses. “Are you all right walking?” he asked, as a smile formed on his well rounded face. “Or can I offer you a lift anywhere? I’m sure I could rustle up a trailer if needed? Have you got far to go?”
“To the Farm, but it’s not too much further thanks,” Fran said cheerily. “And these two are angels to lead. Anyway, the exercise is good.”
“Who for?” Rosie whispered under her breath, making Alice giggle. Her feet were starting to ache too, with a combination of being worn out and frozen all at the same time.
“Fair enough, although rather you than me,” Mr Perryvale said, taking a puff on his cigar, before giving another wave and disappearing up the lane.
“He doesn’t look like he gets much exercise,” Charlie smiled to Mia. “I wouldn’t want to be his polo pony.”
“Charlie…” Fran remonstrated, but only half-heartedly. “It’s not entirely his fault. He had a riding accident a few years back and broke his ankle badly. I think he can ride better now than he can walk! Well, that’s what he tells me, anyway. Not that I know him well, mind you. It’s only recently that he’s even spoken to me, which is odd, considering we’ve lived in the same village for years. He’s always been far too lah-di-dah for the likes of scruffy old me.”
As they carried on up the lane, past the entrance to the Abbey grounds, Charlie’s attention was suddenly brought back to Cracker, who had lifted his head, his ears pricked. Alice noticed Frostie’s head bob up, too. For the first time, the two horses became slightly jumpy, and their stride more urgent. They stayed restless as they approached the next corner, their ears pricked.
As they got nearer, the girls could hear the metallic clatter of lots of hooves clopping along the lane. They could hear one set of hooves skidding and then a pause followed by another skid, as if the pony the hooves belonged to was dancing and leaping along the lane.
“I still don’t think this little pony will be ready in time,” a girls voice called out despondently. “She kept shying away from the stick and the ball this morning during the practice chukka.”
“Well, she’ll have to play in one of the chukkas, inexperienced or not,” a heavily accented, slightly out of breath male voice called back.
“We haven’t got much choice anyway, since the other ponies are dropping like flies,” a third, deeper voice added.
Charlie turned to Mia. “That sounds like India, and Estoni, doesn’t it?”
Mia nodded, “And Billy, I think!”
Fran hollered out at the front of their ride, giving the riders and ponies around the corner an advance warning of their presence. She held up her hand, and the girls halted Cracker and Frostie, who jittered on the spot, their ears hard forward.
Around the corner appeared the bull-like bay Stormchaser, with Estoni on top. Close up, his choppy stride, thick set neck and chest made him look even more intimidating and terrifying, especially now there were no arena walls to contain him. He started, but for a moment paused in the lane, his whole body quivering like a bomb that was about to go off.
Behind Estoni and Stormchaser followed two more riders. Each was mounted on a pony, and leading two more. The girls recognised Billy Pyke beneath his polo helmet, and just behind him was India Webb, sitting on a steel grey polo pony. Their faces were a picture of surprise as they almost bumped into Fran and the girls.
Cracker took a step forward. Charlie grabbed his head collar, not fancying being dragged any closer to the tank-like Stormchaser. But Cracker pulled forward again, leaning towards Stormchaser, and giving a soft whinny. To the girls’ amazement, Stormchaser responded with a soft whicker. Alice jumped when Frostie joined in, right in her ear. At the front, Estoni looked confused as he studied the two horses in front of him.
“Thunder…? Misty?” He said.
“Er…” Charlie began, but at that moment, Stormchaser’s quivering halt exploded. He’d clearly waited long enough and he set off at a head-fighting canter down the lane.
“I see you back at the Abbey!” Estoni called over his shoulder, sitting lightly in the saddle as he tried to contain the bay pony beneath him.
“Okay!” India shouted back.
Her grey polo pony began to scrape the ground and try to move forward, unsettled by Stormchaser’s antics. India struggled to hold her, the other ponies either side of her and the two sets of reins in her hands. When they had calmed slightly, she turned her attention back to the horses in front of her.
“Where are those two off to?”
“Hope Farm,” Fran replied.
“Hope Farm?” India repeated, her face a mixture of surprise and bewilderment. “How come?”
“Abandoned,” Fran called back, “dumped.”
A fl
ash of anger crossed Billy’s face, and Alice noticed India glance at him.
“No one’s claimed them yet,” Fran continued, “so they’re coming to mine, then I can see about rehoming them. Why, are you interested?”
Billy managed a humourless smile. “You never know.”
India’s young grey horse snorted and took a few steps back, shaking her head.
“We’d better get going,” Billy said, with the slightest of nods to India. “We don’t want another accident. Come on.”
Everyone said goodbye, then India and Billy set off with their six polo ponies.
Cracker and Frostie stepped on reluctantly.
“Why would they be exercising their polo ponies on the lanes when they’ve got so much estate to ride in?” Mia puzzled quietly to the others as Fran strode ahead to check there were no cars coming round the corner.
“I don’t know,” Charlie shook her head. “It seems like a crazy thing to do, especially with a pony like Stormchaser.”
Rosie frowned. “Unless the Abbey isn’t safe for them, either? Billy mentioned that ponies were dropping like flies, before he realised we were there…”
Alice had a quick glimpse over her shoulder before they reached the corner. She baulked as she noticed Billy, turned in his saddle slightly. He was watching her and her friends, and the two horses. She could feel his gaze remain upon them until they headed round the bend in the lane and disappeared from view.
The Pony Detectives stayed at Hope Farm for ages, helping to settle Cracker and Frostie into their new home. They fussed about, checking rugs, fluffing up hay piles in the new field, and double checking the water buckets were clean and full. Once they’d finished, Fran showed them the stables the horses would be brought into each night.
“Old Mouse and Marlee will be okay out in the barns with Pirate and the small group in there,” Fran said.
Stormchaser and the Silver Mist Page 9
