Trixie and the Dream Pony of Doom
Page 9
“You can even call him Fungus, if you like,” said Martha.
Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.
“I’ll give the prize money to Grandma Clump,” I said to Mum, trying to smile as I watched Fungus’s loving family leading him away. Fungus was gazing almost as adoringly at Martha as he had gazed at Raphael, and she gazed adoringly back. For a brief moment Fungus paused to look back over his shoulder at me, with what I thought was a sad smile. But I could see where his heart really lay. I gulped.
“Poor Trix,” said Dad, patting my shoulder.
“Murderer,” I said.
“What?”
“You drive a van for horse murderers.”
“Trixie, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, don’t pretend. You drive for Meadowlarks, don’t you? You used their notepaper to write to the milkman. And Meadowlarks are the knackers.”
And Dad got the giggles. How heartless.
“I’m sure there might well be a company called Meadowlarks in Bottomley that’s a knackers, Trix,” he said, “but the one I work for is in Birmingham. They do builders’ materials. Why on earth would you imagine I’d start working for a knacker? The way you feel about horses, that really would be a last resort.”
I was so relieved, tears ran down my face.
And so we went home, and Mum rang the police to tell them all about Bullet Head. I wonder if they’ll catch him. He can’t have had any more idea of what was special about Fungus than I did if he only wanted £250 to get rid of him to the first person who showed up. Dad said he couldn’t have been a proper horse thief, or that maybe someone else had stolen Fungus and Bullet Head was just given the job of selling him.
Whatever. I put my silver Best-in-Show cup on the mantelpiece, and Chloe and Dinah came round so we could get down on our knees and worship it.
“We are not worthy, we are not worthy,” Chloe and Dinah moaned and giggled, turning round to worship me instead, and Tomato joined in. I gave them a nice Queenly wave.
“I can stop a runaway horse just by putting money on it,” my dad said, cackling. We didn’t understand this was a joke about betting on horses that never win until Mum explained it.
Everyone seems to have been pretty understanding about what’s happened, even Mr and Mrs Next-Door, who practically got mown down in Fungus’s escape.
“Zorro,” said Mr Next-Door, slapping me on the back. “I might have known he was really called Zorro. Went past me like a bat out of hell, he did.”
But I’ll never be able to call him Zorro, I thought to myself. He’ll always be Fungus to me.
And when I go and see him at the stables, which will be every single minute Mum and Dad will let me, I’ll just whisper “Fungus” in his ear – and I know he’ll understand. He might be Martha’s pony really, but what we had was something I’ll never forget.
If you enjoyed Trixie and the Dream Pony of Doom, check out these other great Ros Asquith titles.
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Also by the Author
Also by Trixie (with help from Ros Asquith):
Trixie and The Amazing Doggy Yap Star
Trixie’s Very Extremely Brilliant Guide to Everything
Copyright
HarperCollins Children’s Books
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books 2007
Copyright © Ros Asquith 2007
Ros Asquith asserts the moral right to be identified as the author and the illustrator of the work.
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Source ISBN: 9780007223589
Ebook Edition © DECEMBER 2013 ISBN: 9780007370511
Version: 2013-12-06
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