The Riverdale Pony Stories Box Set (Books 1-6)

by Amanda Wills

  ‘Lucky you,’ drawled Cally. ‘I've spent the last six months working my backside off to pay for this holiday.’

  Poppy squirmed and examined her toes. She'd been over the moon when she'd arrived home from school a couple of months before and found a letter with a smudged London postmark propped against the fruit bowl. She'd ripped open the envelope and studied the single sheet of typewritten paper inside, her face wreathed in smiles. She'd read it so many times since that she knew it off by heart.

  Dear Poppy,

  Congratulations! I am delighted to inform you that your entry, Connemara Comes Home, has won first prize in Young Rider Magazine's short story competition. Your prize is a week-long riding holiday for two at Oaklands Trekking Centre in the Forest of Dean. Please contact our editorial assistant, Jane Gray, on the above number so we can make the necessary arrangements.

  In the meantime, thank you for taking part in this year's competition.

  Yours sincerely,

  Marie Chidders, Editor-in-Chief

  Poppy glanced at Cally and was dismayed to see the older girl looking her up and down with ill-disguised contempt. All the pride she'd felt at winning the competition trickled away, leaving her hollow. She suddenly wished she'd spent the last six months working her backside off to pay for the holiday, too. It seemed much more real, more grown-up than writing a silly story. Scarlett, completely oblivious to Poppy's discomfort, pulled up a beanbag beside Cally and sat down.

  ‘I'd love to have a part-time job but Mum says I'm not old enough. I've thought about getting a paper round but I'd really like to work in a tea shop. Imagine how many cakes you'd get to try. Where do you work, Cally?’

  Cally turned her attention to Scarlett. Shorter than Poppy by half a head and sturdy where Poppy was slight, Scarlett hated her freckles and auburn hair with a passion. Poppy thought she was mad. Her hazel eyes were the colour of a tiger's and her hair was the russet red of beech trees in autumn. Poppy would have chosen auburn over mousey any day.

  Scarlett was as outgoing as Poppy was shy and her non-stop chatter never failed to put people at their ease. Poppy watched glumly as her best friend worked her magic. Within minutes the sneering look had been wiped from Cally's perfect face and she was smiling, her voice warm as she described the riding school where she worked all hours for paltry wages. Poppy couldn't shake the feeling that Cally had put them both through some kind of invisible test. A test that Scarlett had obviously passed with flying colours and Poppy had failed miserably.

  She shuffled over to the nearest sofa and sat beside a girl wearing a red polo shirt and navy jodhpurs. The girl smiled at her.

  ‘Have you brought your story with you? I'd love to read it,’ she said.

  As Poppy nodded she caught a whiff of honeysuckle from the open window. She was transported home to Riverdale, where the climber's greeny-grey leaves and light yellow flowers, tinged with the barest hint of pink, trailed over a trellis archway that led to Caroline's vegetable garden. She pictured her stepmother carefully weeding between rows of tiny lettuce and pea plants, her blonde hair scraped off her face in an untidy updo, her brow furrowed in concentration. Charlie would probably be sat astride the old stone wall that protected the vegetable garden from the worst of the westerly winds, pretending he was a cowboy. Her dad would be sitting on the old wooden bench that had been turned silver by the sun, reading the Sunday papers. She saw Cloud and Chester in her mind's eye, grazing side by side in their paddock to the side of the house. Watching over them all was the Riverdale tor, dominating the huge Dartmoor skyline. Poppy knew the tor so well she could have marched straight to the cairn at the top blindfolded.

  She looked over at her best friend, seeking reassurance. But Scarlett's head was bent towards Cally, her voice suffused with laughter as she regaled the older girl with stories of her pony Blaze. Poppy felt a snag of homesickness, as sharp as barbed wire, pierce her insides.

  Chapter Three

  Poppy had no appetite by the time she took a seat next to Scarlett at the long pine table in Nina's scruffy kitchen. Sitting at the head of the table was a girl with the face of a cherub, who was noisily demolishing a plate of sausages and baked beans. Most of the sauce was smeared around her rosy cheeks. She smiled, pointed her fork at the older children as they piled in and shouted, ‘Mum! New people!’

  ‘This is my daughter Lydia. She's four,’ said Nina.

  ‘Nearly five,’ grumbled Lydia through a mouthful of beans.

  Nina plucked a wet wipe from a packet on the kitchen worktop and wiped it across Lydia's outraged face before she had time to duck. The resulting howls of protest made the girl in the red polo shirt giggle nervously.

  ‘Take a seat everyone. Your mum said you're a vegan, Cally. I've cooked your vegetarian sausages in a separate pan.’

  Cally looked even more incensed than Lydia. ‘Mum may be a vegan. She is also an old hippy. I, on the other hand, am neither. I'll have the same sausages as everyone else, please.’

  Nina passed around plates of sausages, beans and chips. Poppy pushed the food around her plate and tried not to think about home. Instead she took the opportunity to scrutinize their fellow pony trekkers.

  Sitting directly opposite and tucking into his lunch with gusto was the stocky boy. He looked about twelve or thirteen. Poppy fished around in her memory for his name. James or Josh? No, Jack. That was it. He had a bullish, square jaw and thick black eyebrows that almost met in the middle. From the snippets of conversation Poppy could catch he was telling the girl to his left about his current fantasy football team. Sitting opposite Scarlett was the girl in the red polo shirt. She must be Jack's younger sister. She had the same determined chin. Jess, Poppy remembered. She guessed she was probably about ten.

  The girl to Jack's left was stifling a yawn as he blathered on about penalty shoot outs and goal differentials. She was about the same age as Jess and was small and slight with direct brown eyes. She caught Poppy watching her and grimaced theatrically. Poppy suppressed a smile and turned to Scarlett, but her best friend was still talking to Cally. All Poppy could see was the back of her head.

  Nina banged the table with her fork, halting the wave of chat. ‘I'd like to take this opportunity to welcome you to Oaklands. I hope you will all fall in love with the place as deeply as I did. I can still remember how excited I was when I saw photos of the house and yard in an estate agents' window two years ago. I grew up in the Forest of Dean and always wanted to move back. I loved the fact that the house was miles from its nearest neighbours yet the forest was right on the doorstep.

  ‘I thought the place was beyond our means but I must have caught my bank manager on a good day.’ Nina gave the ghost of a smile. ‘We started running our trekking holidays last summer and we're now in our second season. We love it here, don't we, Lyd?’ Lydia nodded vigorously. Poppy was surprised to see Nina's eyes cloudy with tears. She wondered if anyone else had noticed, but they were all still ploughing their way through their lunch. Nina tucked a kiss-curl behind Lydia's ear and continued.

  ‘The Forest of Dean is fantastic for hacking. We often see deer in the forest and if we're really lucky we might see a wild boar.’

  ‘A wild boar?’ repeated Jess, her eyes wide. ‘Aren't they dangerous?’

  ‘Well, yes, they can be, especially if they have young to protect. But they are very secretive and largely nocturnal so the chances of coming across one are pretty slim,’ Nina assured her.

  ‘But what if we do? Won't they charge at the ponies?’ Jess persisted.

  ‘Who cares if they do,’ said her brother scornfully. ‘We could out-gallop them, no problem.’

  ‘They're faster than you think,’ said Nina. ‘The trick is not to antagonise them in the first place. They usually hide in the undergrowth, so if we stick to the paths we'll be fine.’ She noticed the lines creasing the girl's brow. ‘Don't worry, Jess. I ride in the forest every day and I've only seen wild boar twice, and that was from a distance. We'll be fine.’


  Nina smiled at them all. ‘I've got some lovely routes planned for the week. We'll set off straight after breakfast each morning and we'll cover about twelve miles each day, stopping halfway for a picnic lunch. All the horses have saddle bags and I'll pack your lunches in them.’ She pointed to an untidy heap of leather saddle bags next to a pile of unopened brown envelopes on the kitchen worktop. ‘We'll be back at about four each afternoon and once you've finished your yard duties your time is your own.’

  The girl next to Jack stuck her hand in the air.

  ‘Yes, Chloe?’ Nina asked.

  ‘How many horses do you have?’

  ‘Eight. My thoroughbred, McFly, Lydia's Shetland, Frank, and our six trekking ponies. I'll show you your ponies after lunch and we'll go for a gentle hack this afternoon so you can get a feel for them.’

  ‘Will we be having a canter today?’ Jack asked.

  ‘We'll see how we go. You've all done quite a bit of riding, which is great. The group I had last week was a nightmare. One girl had never sat on a horse before. At least if you're all about the same level we can have some decent rides.’

  There was a jangle of cutlery on plates. Nina stood up. ‘All finished? Leave your plates and glasses on the draining board and I'll give you a tour of the house and stables.’

  There were four small bedrooms, each with bunk beds, at the back of the house. Poppy and Scarlett's room looked out over the yard.

  ‘Leave the unpacking, Poppy. We'll do it later,’ Scarlett said impatiently as they changed into their jodhpurs. ‘Let's go and meet the ponies.’

  They caught up with the others outside the first of the two bitumen-black barns. It had been divided into loose boxes, three each down the two long sides and one at either end. Nina stopped at the first box. A bay horse appeared over the door and nibbled her hair. ‘This is McFly. He's ten. I bought him as a yearling and produced him myself. We used to event but we don't get the opportunity to compete these days.’

  McFly towered above them. ‘How big is he?’ wondered Scarlett.

  ‘He's 17.2. Frank can actually walk under him. But he's a gentle giant. Just costs me a fortune in hay and feed. And his rugs are the size of small marquees. Now this is Blue. She's your ride for the week, Cally. She is sharp but I remember when you booked you said you were an experienced rider so she shouldn't be anything you can't handle. I think you'll have a lot of fun on her.’

  Poppy stood on tiptoes to peer over Cally's shoulder. Standing in the corner of her box, delicately nibbling on some hay, was a rose grey Arab mare, whose dished head, silky mane and tail and wide-spaced, intelligent eyes exuded elegance.

  Cally was delighted. Scarlett looked impressed. Poppy felt a twinge of envy.

  ‘Chloe, you're next.’ Chloe looked as if she was about to burst with excitement as Nina showed her a chestnut gelding called Rusty who had a white star in the centre of his forehead and two white socks. ‘He's a real schoolmaster, as honest as they come,’ Nina said.

  Chloe's eyes were dancing. ‘He's beautiful,’ she breathed.

  Jack's sister, Jess, was given Willow, a dun mare with soot black points. She was a Welsh Section B who was great for trekking and never put a foot wrong, Nina told her.

  Jack's pony was a sturdy liver chestnut lightweight cob called Rocky. ‘Cool,’ he said, nodding his approval. They left him in Rocky's box as they crossed the barn to the last two loose boxes. Poppy could sense Scarlett's excitement. ‘Scarlett, you'll be riding Topaz. She's a New Forest cross.’ Poppy and Scarlett looked over the door and saw a pretty palomino mare with her head buried in a hayrack.

  Scarlett's freckled face split into a grin. ‘Oo, I've always wanted a palomino!’

  ‘Topaz is the name of a golden gemstone. It suits her, don't you think? I'm glad you like her,’ said Nina.

  Poppy felt a frisson of anticipation as she followed Nina to the end of the barn. She'd been impressed by all the trekking ponies. Nina obviously had an eye for real quality. And as the competition winner, surely she'd be given the best of the lot? She crossed her fingers, wishing for a flashy Arab like Blue, preferably jet black, although she wasn't fussy, any colour would do.

  A metal anti-weaving grill was attached to the door of the last loose box.

  ‘Here's Beau,’ Nina announced with a flourish, ‘He's all yours, Poppy.’

  Poppy stepped forward. She realised she was holding her breath. She held onto two of the metal bars and peered through them. A jolt of shock hit her in the stomach with the velocity of a high speed train. Nina had to be kidding, right?

  ‘Very funny,’ she said. ‘So where is he really?’

  Nina looked puzzled. ‘That's him. That's Beau.’

  Poppy looked into the loose box again and back at Nina's face. No telltale smirk or giveaway crinkling of the eyes. She was deadly serious.

  Realising Nina was waiting for her reaction she forced a smile and said in a strangulated voice, ‘Hello Beau.’

  At the sound of his name a piebald cob with a long, tangled mane and a wall eye stuck his head over the loose box door. He yawned, flashing a set of yellowing teeth.

  A feeling of bitter disappointment crept from Poppy's head to her toes, along with the uncanny suspicion that she had seen this horse before, although for the life of her she couldn't think where.

  Then she remembered the silver saloon car's squealing brakes and her heart sank even further. Poppy looked desperately at Scarlett, and was disconcerted to see her best friend's mouth twitching, as if she was biting back a bubble of laughter.

  And finally Scarlett confirmed her worst fears. ‘Hey Poppy, I think we may have found the amazing disappearing cow.’

  Chapter Four

  ‘Someone was having a laugh when they called him Beau,’ said Cally drily, looking over from Blue's loose box. ‘He's no oil painting, is he?’

  ‘Beauty is as beauty does,’ said Nina tartly. ‘Don't be too quick to judge him.’ She smiled at Poppy. ‘Beau is one in a million. He may not be the prettiest horse on the yard but he has the heart of a lion and if he decides he likes you he'll do absolutely anything for you.’

  An image of Cloud's handsome grey head swam in front of Poppy's eyes. She'd only been gone a matter of hours but it felt like she hadn't seen him for months. She looked again at the piebald cob. His large head was black with a wide white blaze running down his face. His forehead was flat and broad. The eye that wasn't blue was as dark as mahogany. Under his long, straggly mane Poppy could see a crested neck set in a deep, broad chest. All four legs were white from the knee down and he had thick, muddy feathers. Other than his pink nose and his blue wall eye he was completely monochrome. Poppy held out a hand for him to sniff but he ignored her and turned back to his hay.

  ‘The only one you haven't met is Frank. He must be around here somewhere.’ Nina stepped into the yard, put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. The black Shetland pony Poppy and Scarlett had seen earlier appeared from the open door of the second barn, covered in hay. ‘Frank! Not again! I can't afford for you to be helping yourself to hay whenever you feel like it! Come here, you monster.’ The pony waddled over to Nina and she scratched his poll. ‘This is Frank. What he lacks in height he makes up for in mischief. His speciality is untying knots and unbolting doors so you all need to keep an extra eye on him. He and Beau came together as a job lot at auction. They're inseparable.’ As she spoke the Shetland bustled over to Beau's door. The piebald whickered and started eating the hay stuck in Frank's bushy mane. Everyone except Poppy laughed. She seemed to have lost her sense of humour.

  ‘Right, let's get tacked up,’ Nina said. ‘Lydia's coming with us today but during the week she'll be with her childminder so we'll be able to up the pace.’

  Poppy followed Scarlett into the tack room. Her friend took one look at her miserable face and frowned.

  ‘What's wrong, Poppy?’

  ‘What's wrong? What do you think's wrong? Nina must be out of her mind to think that old clodhopper is any good a
s a trekking pony. He should be pulling a cart! No wonder I thought he was a cow.’

  ‘He looks sweet.’ As Scarlett reached for Topaz's bridle Poppy saw a flash of annoyance cross her face. It cleared so quickly she wondered if she'd imagined it.

  ‘You might find he's a lovely ride,’ Scarlett said, her tone placatory. ‘At least give him a chance.’

  ‘And do I have a choice?’ she growled.

  She balanced Beau's saddle on her hip, swung his bridle over her shoulder and, with some trepidation, walked over to the cob's loose box. He had finished the hay in Frank's mane and had turned back to his hayrack. She patted his neck hesitantly and he gave her a baleful stare. It was as if his blue wall eye could see straight through her with X-ray vision - and was singularly unimpressed by what he saw. He took a step sideways and stood on her left foot, sending bolts of pain shooting up her calf.

  ‘Ow!’ she cried, leaning on his shoulder to make him move. But it was like pushing a brick wall. He wasn't going anywhere. ‘Please move, Beau!’ she gasped, her foot still pinned to the ground by an iron-clad hoof the size of a dinner plate. Beau ignored her and began chomping on his hay. Poppy looked around her helplessly. At this rate she'd be here all day, her foot being squashed thinner and thinner until it was as flat as filo pastry. She tried again but Beau didn't move. Outside the barn she could hear the others' chatter as they tacked up and mounted. Feeling increasingly desperate she remembered the Polos in her pocket and waved the packet under Beau's nose. He immediately lifted his foot off her jodhpur boot, gave her a hefty nudge and nearly bit her little finger off in his haste to snaffle the mint she offered him.

  Nina's face appeared over the loose box door. She frowned when she saw that Beau still wasn't tacked up. ‘Do you need a hand?’

  Poppy felt her cheeks flush. ‘No, thanks. I won't be a minute.’

  Nina disappeared and Poppy eyed the cob with dislike. ‘I don't want any more nonsense,’ she told him firmly. ‘And if you're good you can have another Polo. Alright?’