by Stacy Gregg
Cassandra Steele didn’t need any more convincing. “Get her back immediately and let’s get this place humming,” she told Tom.
Over the past week, Avery had done exactly that. He had commissioned the world-famous course designer Delaney Swift to work on the new cross-country circuit. Meanwhile, Verity had worked her way through the horses with Avery and between them they had decided who should stay and who should go. Some of Cassandra’s showjumpers would be kept, but others would be sold to make way for the young sporthorses. Special stalls would be set up to accommodate the new broodmares and their foals. Avery also contacted all of Ginty’s other clients who grazed horses with the stable, the ones that Verity had referred to as the ‘weekend rides’, and informed them that Ginty had left Dulmoth to set up her own stables and politely suggested that they might like to go with her.
The weekend rides that had been boarding at Dulmoth Park stables would all be moving out over the next two weeks. Only Romeo and Natasha were allowed to stay.
“But you’ll have to do your own grooming from now on,” Avery told Natasha. “This is a professional stable, and my team has too much work to do to pander to pampered ponies.”
Natasha and Issie had both got their old jobs back for the rest of the holidays. Avery asked Stella and Kate if they wouldn’t mind working at the stables to help out for the last week, too, while he looked for another new permanent groom to replace Penny. The girls leapt at the chance. “Much more fun than stocking supermarket shelves!” Stella had said gleefully.
Issie gave Stella and Kate a tour of the place on their first day and had loved seeing the looks on her friends’ faces as they took in its grandeur.
“This place is, like, totally serious!” Stella had walked into the tack room with her eyes on stalks. “Ohmygod! Is that really an Hermès saddle?”
Verity’s arrival back at Dulmoth Park on Monday was greeted with cheers from the other riders. The head groom had left under a cloud but now she was returning as a hero to her new job as stable manager.
“How’s Tottie? Can I see her?” Verity asked Avery as soon as she walked through the door.
Tottie hadn’t been well at all. The showjumping competition that day had taken its toll on the mare, and when she had returned to Dulmoth Park and the bute finally wore off she was quite lame, barely able to move her hind legs. Avery hadn’t held out much hope when he had first examined her. Things looked even more grim when the vet arrived and said that the mare should never have been jumping with such bad arthritis.
“You caught the problem just in time,” the vet told them, “If you’d kept on riding her, this mare would have broken down — but arthritis can be managed if you treat it properly and rest the horse.”
“Will she ever be sound enough to jump again?” Verity asked anxiously.
“I don’t see why not,” the vet said, writing something down on his medical pad in illegible scrawl. He handed Verity the prescription. “Keep up this medication, work her in slowly and in another month or so this mare will be better than she ever was.”
Verity was so relieved she almost burst into tears. She threw her arms around Tottie’s dapple-grey neck, giving the horse a long, hard hug.
When Issie arrived at Dulmoth Park for her last Sunday ride before the holidays were over, the stable grounds looked a bit like a venue for a hunt meet — minus the hounds and the red coats! Along with constructing the new cross-country course it had been Avery’s idea to open the grounds up so that members of the Chevalier Point Pony Club could also come and use the facilities at weekends. A steady stream of riders and their horses were already passing through the swanky front gates of the stables.
By the time Issie had saddled up Flame and led him outside to join the others there were at least twenty riders assembled outside the stable block, including Dan and Ben. Dan was riding Madonna and Ben was proudly showing off his new horse, a very handsome sixteen-hand palomino called Shantaram. Ben’s surly bay Welsh pony Max had become far too small for him and Ben had finally faced facts and sold him on. However, his new horse was taking some getting used to.
“He feels really high off the ground,” Ben admitted as they milled about in front of the stables waiting for the others to arrive. “I couldn’t get my foot in the stirrup to get on him — I had to use a mounting block! If I fall off today I’ll never be able to get back on him again!”
Aidan was due to arrive that morning to ride with them, but as ten o’clock loomed and the ride prepared to leave, it looked like he wasn’t going to show up. Issie sat on the edge of the group and looked around anxiously for him. This would be their only chance to ride together before he returned to Blackthorn Farm. They had spoken on the phone last night and Aidan had told her he would try to make it. But he still wasn’t here and they were about to depart any minute now.
“Are we all ready to go?” Verity called out to the assembled riders.
“Wait for me!” A voice in the distance shouted out, and Issie saw the sliding gates open at the far end of the driveway as Aidan and Fortune came galloping towards the group. Fortune’s hooves were churning up the grass verge on the side of the driveway as they galloped and Verity didn’t look at all pleased.
“Avery will kill you if you do that again,” she told Aidan sharply.
“Sorry, Stable Master!” Aidan said in a cheeky tone. He looked over at Issie and gave her a wink.
“Right!” Verity called out. “Everyone ready? Follow me!”
The ride took them across the acres of farmland at the back of the Dulmoth Park property where Delaney Swift’s cross-country course was still in the process of being constructed and down the forest tracks beyond in a long loop around the pond at the southern end of the woods. The whole ride took an hour and a half at a brisk trot, which was a perfect workout for the horses.
The path was narrow and at times the riders had to go single file, but as they got closer to the pond, the track broadened out and they rode side by side.
“So,” Aidan said as he pulled up alongside Issie, “I was thinking that you might come back to Blackthorn Farm for the next school holidays…”
Issie nodded. “I’ve been thinking that too. I haven’t seen Aunty Hess in ages and I’d love to come and help out.” She smiled. “After all — the three of us are supposed to be business partners, aren’t we?”
“I thought I was more than that to you,” Aidan said.
Issie smiled at him. “Of course you are,” she said softly. “You were my first real boyfriend, Aidan, and you’re still one of my best friends — you always will be.”
“But,” Aidan finished her sentence for her, “you don’t want to be my girlfriend any more.”
Issie shook her head. “Too much has happened. And we’re such good friends. I don’t want to ruin that…”
“Hey!” Aidan joked. “It’s a bit early in the day to get so deep and meaningful, isn’t it?” And then he added quietly in a more sincere tone, “I feel the same way. You’re one of my best friends too.”
Their special moment was interrupted by Stella cantering up to join them.
“You two looked like you were having a serious discussion so I thought I better come over and get in the way!” she grinned.
“It’s OK,” Issie laughed. “Serious discussions are over. Let’s just enjoy our last day of freedom before we’re back at school.”
When Issie arrived home that evening she found her mum sorting out white knee socks to go with her brown suede school shoes. “School tomorrow!” Mrs Brown said. “I bet you can’t wait!”
“Actually,” Issie smiled, “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m looking forward to going back.”
She had been thinking a lot lately about last year’s report card and her mother’s insistence that she take her future seriously. She had put in a special request to make a few changes to her timetable for the new term and now it was jam-packed with swotty subjects like languages and sciences.
Mrs Brown was del
ighted with her daughter’s choices. She might have been slightly less thrilled if she knew the reasons behind them. Issie would need to be able to speak German when she went to Warendorf to train with the best dressage riders in the world. Spanish would come in handy at El Caballo Danza Magnifico. She was even willing to endure Mr Canning’s French lessons if it meant she could speak the language fluently when she attended the famous Le Cadre Noir riding school in France. The sciences were essential too. After the dramas with bute and capsaicin in Ginty’s illegal medicine chest, Issie figured that every serious horsewoman needed a solid working knowledge of chemistry and biology.
OK, maybe her mum was right and it was a one-in-a-million chance that she would ever have a career as a world-class horse rider. But Issie believed she could do it — and she was going to prove it.
There was only one other crucial detail that had to be resolved if she was really serious about becoming a professional rider. And on Monday, after her first day back at school, she realised that she couldn’t put it off any longer. So instead of riding her bike home from school that evening, she cycled along the main road all the way to Dulmoth Park.
At the stables, she parked her bike and grabbed a couple of carrots out of the feed room, then went out to the paddocks behind the arena.
In the field full of horses she spotted Flame immediately. The handsome chestnut was grazing contentedly at the far end of the paddock, but as soon as he heard Issie’s voice calling to him he looked up and came trotting to the fenceline to greet her. She felt her heart beat faster as he ran towards her. His paces were so floaty, he looked incredible. It still seemed remarkable to her that such a beautiful, exotic Hanoverian was hers to ride whenever she wanted.
Far from being disappointed with Flame’s third place at the North Island show, it turned out Cassandra was extremely pleased with his progress. So much so that she specifically requested that Issie be allowed to continue to work for the stables on a part-time basis once she went back to school so she could ride the stunning chestnut twice a week and take him to the occasional showjumping competition.
“Hey, boy,” Issie murmured to Flame. “I’ve got carrots.” And she pulled two bright orange juicy ones out from the pockets of her schoolbag and fed them to the horse, letting him nibble them off the flat of her palm, feeling his whiskers tickling against her skin.
She was looking forward to riding the rest of the season on the big chestnut. They were entered in a one metre jumping class this weekend. Issie had her jodhpurs in her schoolbag and was planning to take Flame for a ride that evening. They would hack out across the fields of Dulmoth Park and down through the forest. But before she could saddle up and ride, she had her future to take care of. She couldn’t wait any longer. She had to talk to Avery.
She found Chevalier Point’s head instructor sitting behind the desk in his office shuffling his way through a vast stack of paperwork. When Ginty had occupied this office it had a neat, pristine quality about it, but already in just one week Avery had managed to reduce the desk to a messy pile of papers and the floor was littered with bits of grubby horse tack and muddy riding boots.
“I’m thinking of getting an office manager,” Avery admitted, as Issie stepped her way around the mess to reach the desk and take seat. “Or at least a cleaner!” he added, looking despairingly at the squalor around him.
“I like it better like this,” Issie smiled. “It reminds me of your office at Winterflood Farm.”
“Don’t even mention that!” Avery groaned. “I’m having trouble juggling my double-life at the moment. Make that triple-life if you count the pony club! I messed up the feeding roster last night and got stuck here until late. By the time I got home to give Starlight, Vinnie and Cookie their hard feeds it was eight o’clock and they weren’t pleased! I don’t know how I’m going to have time for it all. I’m thinking I’ll work from the farm office a couple of days each week and leave Verity in charge here so that I can divide my time.”
Avery realised that he was babbling. “I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear the details of my work schedule. How was your first day back at school? It’s your fifth-form year, isn’t it? Very important. You must have quite a few big decisions to make.”
“I do,” Issie said. “Well, actually, I have kind of made one. A big decision. That’s why I’m here.”
Avery looked at her. “This sounds serious.”
Issie nodded. “Tom, I keep thinking about what happened. You warned me right from the start about working for Ginty, and I should have believed you—”
“Issie,” Avery cut her off, “I told you. We don’t need to talk about this again. You’ve apologised and I completely understand. Sometimes we need to find these things out for ourselves. You couldn’t have known what Ginty was really like.”
“But I should have realised sooner!” Issie said. “The moment I saw her rapping the horses I knew deep down inside that it was wrong. She was just so convincing, Tom. And part of me wanted to believe her. I wanted to prove that I could handle myself and I didn’t need your help any more.”
Issie looked down at her feet, hesitating, scared to speak. “But I realise now that I need your help more than ever. If I’m serious about really wanting a career as an international eventing rider, then I can’t do it by myself.”
She smiled hopefully at him. “Tom, I need you to be my instructor.”
“But Issie,” Avery looked puzzled, “I am your instructor.”
“I know,” Issie said. “I mean I need you to coach me like a professional. I know you’re busy. And I know it will cost me money and I’m totally going to pay you—”
“Issie.” Avery held up his hand to stop her. “Do you mean it? Are you serious about this? A career as an international eventing rider is going to be hard work. It’s going to take up every last scrap of your time and commitment. Your world will become nothing but horses. You’ll have to fit in your schoolwork of course, that’s a given, but apart from that you won’t have time for anything else. We’re talking about a gruelling physical training schedule here, and it’s risky too. Eventing is the most dangerous sport in the world bar none. I know you have the talent — but a true professional rider also needs drive, commitment and absolute unwavering dedication. Are you really and truly ready for this?”
“I am. Tom, I want to be an international eventing rider and I’ll do anything it takes to make it.”
“OK, then,” Avery said.
“OK?” Issie frowned. “That’s it? I tell you I want to be a world-class rider and you just say ‘OK’?”
“Uh-huh.” Avery began to hunt around distractedly, pushing aside the piles of papers on his desk.
“Aha! Here it is!” he announced victoriously as he pulled out a little black address book. Now he began to thumb through the pages, muttering to himself as he went through the alphabetical listings.
“Ummmm, Tom?” Issie said. “What are you doing?”
“You want to be a world-class eventing rider, right?” Avery said. “I think you’ve made your case pretty clear.”
“Uh-huh,” Issie said. “So now what? What are you up to?”
“I’m making a phone call,” Avery told her. “The first step to becoming a champion eventing rider is to get you the right horse. We need a true athlete with the ability to go all the way.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Issie said. “I thought maybe Cassandra Steele could sponsor me and—”
“Yes, yes, that’s an excellent idea,” Avery said, “Cassandra might like to sponsor you at some stage. But she doesn’t have to buy you a world-class eventing horse, Issie. You’ve already got one.”
“What are you talking about?” Issie said. “And who are you phoning?”
Avery picked up the receiver. “I’m calling Francoise.”
And suddenly Issie knew exactly where this was heading. By the time she left Avery’s office half an hour later, plans were already underway. Very soon they would be going to Spain, wher
e they would see old friends and collect on a promise that had been made long ago. If Avery was right, then the Spanish trip would be just the beginning of an even greater journey — into the world of international eventing. They would bring back the horse that would help Issie to realise her dreams and compete against the best riders in the world.
Issie had been waiting for this moment for so long, she couldn’t believe it was here at last. Her colt was going to be returned to her.
Nightstorm was coming home to Chevalier Point.
Acknowledgments
With thanks to my wonderful editor Lizzie Ryley
www.stacygregg.co.uk
Congratulations and thanks to Ashlea Hartland and Breanna Payne, the winners of our “Name a Pony” competition. Ashlea’s horse Tokyo and Breanna’s horse Sebastian both appear in this book. Also there’s a name change for the International League for the Protection of Horses. The real-life organisation is now known as Horse Welfare, so we’ve swapped to this from now on too!
The Pony Club Secrets series:
1. Mystic and the Midnight Ride
2. Blaze and the Dark Rider
3. Destiny and the Wild Horses
4. Stardust and the Daredevil Ponies
5. Comet and the Champion’s Cup
6. Storm and the Silver Bridle
7. Fortune and the Golden Trophy
8. Victory and the All-Stars Academy
9. Flame and the Rebel Riders
Also available in the series:
Issie and the Christmas Pony
(Christmas special)
Coming soon…
10. Angel and the Flying Stallions
Copyright
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2010.
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,
77–85 Fulham Palace Road, Hammersmith, London, W6 8JB.
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