by Amanda Wills
‘Come on, girl. Let's get you back to Cally. I think she's going to be pretty pleased to see you.’
Poppy considered jumping onto the mare and cantering back to Cally and Beau. But the prospect of riding the horse she'd hankered after all week had lost its appeal. Suddenly all she wanted was her level-headed cob.
Cally was still sitting with her head in her hands at the base of the pine tree, Beau by her side.
‘We're back,’ Poppy called. ‘I've checked her over and she looks fine. She hasn't even broken her reins. I'd say you've both had a lucky escape.’ She pretended not to notice Cally's tear-stained cheeks as she handed Blue's reins back to the older girl. ‘I'll hold her for you while you get on,’ she offered.
Cally nodded her thanks and mounted Blue. She looked down at Poppy, her blue-grey eyes appraising.
‘That was a really brave thing to do. That wild boar could have attacked you both.’
‘Oh, I knew Beau would look after me,’ Poppy replied lightly. ‘Although I think I may have permanently damaged my vocal chords with all the screaming,’ she grinned.
Cally was quiet for a while as they headed back through the bracken to the path.
‘I think I may have been wrong about you,’ she said eventually.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I thought you were stuck-up and standoffish. Poppy the Ice Maiden.’
Poppy giggled. ‘That's funny, because I thought you were a massive show off with an ego the size of Texas.’
‘Why Texas?’ Cally asked, her mouth twitching.
‘Oh, I don't know. It was the first place I thought of. And Texas is pretty big.’ Poppy paused. ‘Anyway, I'm not stuck-up, Cally. It's shyness. People always think I'm being unfriendly but I'm really not. I just find meeting new people terrifying. And before I know it they've made up their minds about me. Like you obviously did.’
‘Maybe you're right,’ Cally conceded. ‘Mum's always telling me not to be so quick to judge. Scarlett's so open and friendly. She's the complete opposite of you. I couldn't for the life of me work out how you ended up best friends.’
‘That's because she didn't give me a chance to be shy.’ Poppy recalled the day Scarlett had first turned up at Riverdale, her bubbly personality cancelling out Poppy's natural diffidence. Then she remembered that she and Scarlett weren't speaking and looked down at Beau's unruly mane in despair.
‘I thought you'd made friends with Scarlett just to annoy me.’
‘That's so not true,’ Cally retorted. ‘I made friends with Scarlett because she's good company and we have a laugh together.’
‘I see that now. And you've got a good taste in friends. Scarlett's the best,’ Poppy replied, a catch in her throat.
Cally smiled sympathetically. ‘You two'll make up, don't worry. If it's any consolation, Scarlett has spent the whole holiday trying to convince me what an amazing person you are.’
Poppy found that hard to believe, but it was kind of Cally to say so. ‘Anyway, now we've decided that I'm not a stuck up ice maiden and you're not a big fat show off, shall we start again? Friends?’ she asked.
‘Friends,’ Cally confirmed.
They continued without talking until they saw the others on the brow of a hill. Poppy broke the silence.
‘I don't think we should tell Nina what happened back there. Just tell her I'd gone further than you thought.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Definitely. There's no point worrying her. She's got enough on her plate at the moment.’
Cally smiled gratefully. ‘Thanks, Poppy.’
Nina held her finger to her lips as they caught up with the others. They were all staring into the valley below. Poppy and Cally followed their gaze and saw a small herd of fallow deer grazing in front of the next band of woodland. Above them a large bird of prey glided over the clearing, its white body flecked with black.
‘A goshawk. Probably a female, judging by the size,’ whispered Nina. ‘The females are much bigger than the males. This time of year she'll be hunting for her young. She probably has a nest somewhere nearby.’
‘What's she hunting for?’ asked Poppy.
‘She'll catch anything from rabbits and squirrels to crows and pigeons. She's even powerful enough to kill a pheasant.’
They watched the deer grazing and the goshawk soaring high above until the horses started fidgeting.
‘Come on, I know the perfect place for our picnic,’ said Nina, gathering McFly's reins. ‘We've probably had our wildlife fix for today.’
‘I wanted to see a wild boar,’ Jack grumbled to his sister as they followed Nina and McFly back into the trees. ‘Deer and hawks are alright, but that would have been awesome.’
Scarlett, riding beside Cally, was puzzled to see the older girl giving Poppy a conspiratorial smile. She arched her eyebrows in surprise.
‘What were you and Poppy grinning about? I thought you couldn't stand each other,’ she quizzed.
‘Oh, it turns out we were wrong and you were right,’ Cally replied. ‘I'll tell you all about it over lunch.’
Chapter Thirteen
All too soon their last ride had come to an end and they were clip-clopping down the lane towards the yard. Although the others were being picked up by their parents before dinner, Poppy's dad had arranged with Nina for her and Scarlett to stay an extra night so he could collect the two girls the following morning on his way back from London.
The yard was a picture of activity as they all dismounted and tied up their horses. Lydia's childminder dropped the four-year-old off and Lydia led Frank around the yard saying goodbye to everyone. Poppy broke away from sponging Beau's sweaty saddle marks to watch people untack and brush down their horses. Chloe looked tearful as she smothered Rusty with kisses. Poppy knew she would be going back to her weekly riding lessons, her yearning for a pony of her own stronger than ever. Jess's arms were flung around Willow's neck, her face buried in the mare's black mane. Even Jack looked subdued as he said goodbye to Rocky. At least the brother and sister had the elderly Magic waiting for them at home. Cally and Scarlett were swapping mobile phone numbers and email addresses.
‘Are you going to miss us, Poppy?’ said a high-pitched voice, and she looked around to see Lydia and Frank behind her. The Shetland walked straight up to Beau and started nibbling Poppy's quick release knot.
‘Come here, you monster!’ commanded Lydia, echoing her mum the day they'd arrived and Frank had been caught in the hay barn. Poppy smiled. Time was so elastic, she thought, as she dipped the sponge in a bucket of water and ran it over Beau's back. In some ways it felt as though they'd only arrived that morning, yet she was already so deeply embedded in the Oaklands routine that she felt as though she'd been there for months.
‘Are you?’ Lydia repeated.
‘Well, I can't wait to see my own pony. And it'll be nice to be home. But do you know what? I will miss you,’ she said, watching Beau nuzzle Frank's bushy mane. ‘All of you.’
Jess and Jack's mum drove up in a people carrier, and the brother and sister were sent indoors to pack. Chloe's dad was next to arrive. He virtually had to prise the ten-year-old away from Rusty with promises of new jodhpurs and a trip to Olympia. Poppy was saying goodbye to Jess and Chloe when a rusty VW camper van lurched up the track and stopped at the gate. Spray-painted a lurid purple, the van had been so completely plastered in daisy car transfers it looked as though it was suffering from a bad attack of the measles.
A slim blonde woman who could have passed for Cally's older sister sprang out of the driver's side. Her hair was tied in two long plaits and she wore a baggy, hand-knitted jumper in rainbow stripes, a long, faded denim skirt and scuffed brown boots. Poppy remembered Scarlett telling her that Cally's mum was a part-time carer and that they struggled to make ends meet. Cally must have worked hard for months to save up for the few days at Oaklands. Poppy realised how galling it must have been for the older girl when she found out Poppy had won the holiday just for writing a st
ory.
Poppy slipped into the barn and stuck her head over the door of Blue's loose box. Cally was brushing tendrils of bracken from the mare's tail.
‘Cally, your mum's here.’
Cally looked up, dismayed. ‘Already?’
‘'Fraid so. She's talking to Nina.’
Poppy stroked Blue's dished head. ‘I'm glad we sorted everything out this afternoon.’
Cally dropped the dandy brush she'd been using into the box of grooming kit and joined Poppy by the loose box door.
‘It's just as well. Scarlett has invited me down to the farm for a week in the summer holidays. You two can show me around.’
‘That's if Scarlett is still speaking to me,’ Poppy said gloomily.
‘Don't worry. Apparently these things have a habit of working out. That's the old cliché you trotted out the other day, anyway,’ Cally grinned.
‘Very funny, I'm sure.’
Cally handed Poppy the grooming kit, her face suddenly solemn. ‘Tell my mum I'll be over in a minute. I want to say goodbye to Blue.’
Scarlett's hazel eyes were downcast as they said their farewells.
‘I'll be down before you know it. You can show me all the best rides on Dartmoor,’ said Cally, giving her a hug.
Poppy caught the older girl's eye. ‘Good luck. I hope you find your prizewinning showjumper.’
‘Yeah, well, you never know.’ Cally turned to her mum. ‘I'm going to miss Blue so much. I thought I'd ask Rose for some extra hours so I can start saving for a holiday next year.’
Poppy's buoyant mood plummeted. In all the drama she'd forgotten about the debt collector. If Nina was right, Oaklands wouldn't be in business next week, let alone next year. Blue would be sold, along with Topaz, McFly, Rusty, Rocky and the others. She realised with a pang that Frank and Beau would be split up, and she wondered how Beau would cope without his pint-sized alter ego. She glanced at Nina. She was smiling and making small talk with Cally's mum but she looked strained, as though she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Poppy was full of admiration for her. Despite the fact that her world was about to fall apart, she was holding it all together.
But only just.
Chapter Fourteen
Scarlett and Nina were both silent over dinner, wrapped up in their own thoughts. Poppy struggled to keep the conversation going and, once they'd cleared the plates away and stacked the dishwasher, offered to do the final check on the horses so she could escape the oppressive atmosphere.
‘That would be great, thanks Poppy. I need to watch the weather forecast,’ said Nina. Scarlett left the kitchen wordlessly, heading in the direction of the lounge, and Poppy let herself out of the back door. The air was still and silent and the sweet smell of honeysuckle hung heavily. All the horses were in the barn except Frank, who was grazing in the small paddock at the far end of the yard. Poppy could just make out his dark outline under the old oak tree. She pulled open the double doors of the barn, breathing in the familiar smell of warm horse, and walked the length of the barn, running her eyes over each horse and pony until she was satisfied they were all well. The last loose box she reached was Beau's. He was lying in the straw, his feathered legs tucked neatly beneath him and his whiskered chin resting on his knee as he dozed.
Poppy leant on his door, watching his flanks gently rise and fall. As if he sensed her presence, the cob opened his wall eye and whickered. Poppy swung around, assuming Frank must have let himself out of his paddock and followed her in, but the Shetland was nowhere to be seen. A gust of wind blew through the half-open double doors, banging them against the inside wall of the barn. McFly whinnied in alarm and Poppy backtracked to his loose box. The thoroughbred looked fretfully over his door.
‘It's OK,’ she soothed, stroking his nose. ‘It's just the wind picking up. There's going to be a storm tonight, but you'll be safe in here.’
Slate grey clouds had appeared on the horizon by the time Poppy pulled the barn doors closed and as she crossed the yard to the back door of the bungalow a few fat raindrops began to fall. She found Nina in her study, glued to the weather, her face anxious.
‘They've upped the severe weather warnings from amber to red,’ she told Poppy. ‘Were the horses alright?’
‘All present and correct,’ said Poppy. ‘The barn doors were rattling in the wind so I've bolted them shut.’ She stifled a yawn. ‘I think I might head off to bed. It's been a long day.’
‘Thank-you, Poppy. I'm going to turn in soon, too. Lydia's bound to have me up in the night. She hates thunder.’
Poppy poked her head around the door of the lounge on her way to the bedroom. Scarlett was sitting slouched on one end of the sofa, her feet on the oak coffee table, apparently engrossed in a quiz show. Poppy dithered by the door for a minute, her stomach in knots. Then she came to a decision and marched into the room. Perching on the coffee table, she grabbed the remote control and turned off the television.
‘Can we please stop fighting now?’ she asked. ‘I'll promise to stop whinging if you promise to stop sulking. Call it quits?’
Scarlett dragged her eyes away from the screen. She was frowning.
‘There's something I need to say first,’ she said.
‘Oh, right.’ Poppy wondered what she'd done wrong now. ‘What is it?’
‘I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've spent so much of the holiday with Cally, especially as I wouldn't even be here if you hadn't invited me. I'm sorry I was so touchy about Topaz. Most of all I'm sorry I didn't accept your apology. I've been a terrible friend and I wouldn't blame you for hating me.’
Poppy felt the knots vanish and she grinned. ‘Scar, you idiot! Of course I don't hate you. I know I've been a pain, too. Let's forget all about it.’
‘Cally told me what happened this morning. You were really brave, Poppy.’
‘It wasn't me, it was Beau. When he stood up to the wild boar she realised she'd met her match and scarpered. It wasn't as dangerous as it sounds.’
‘And Cally says you two have finally made friends.’
Poppy smiled sheepishly and sat next to Scarlett. ‘Yes. It turns out you were right about us both, if you must know. How annoying you must find it, being right all the time.’
Scarlett smirked. ‘You get used to it.’
Poppy turned the television back on and soon they were convulsed in giggles, shouting out inane answers to the questions fired at contestants by the heavily spray-tanned quiz show host.
As the credits rolled at the end of the programme Poppy groaned, clutching her sides theatrically. ‘That was fun, but I suppose we ought to get to bed.’
The rain was lashing against their bedroom window by the time they climbed into their bunks. Poppy shivered. It felt more like January than the beginning of June.
‘I'm glad we're friends again,’ said Scarlett.
Poppy pulled her duvet under her chin. ‘Me too.’
‘Bet you can't wait to see Cloud.’
She wriggled her toes in anticipation. ‘No, I can't. Let's go out for a ride the minute we get back.’
‘Good plan. I've enjoyed riding in the forest but do you know what? It's not a patch on Dartmoor,’ said Scarlett.
‘I agree.’ Poppy pictured Cloud's pricked grey ears in front of her as they cantered across the moor, past rocky tors and black-faced sheep. She wondered if he'd missed her as much as she'd missed him. The wind battered the walls of the bungalow and she could hear the oak tree creaking. She yawned into the darkness.
‘'Night Scarlett.’
‘'Night Poppy, see you in the morning.’
As fate and the weather would have it, they didn't have to wait that long. A rumble of thunder, followed by the sound of Lydia wailing, dragged both girls from their dreams.
Poppy sat up groggily and checked her alarm clock. Ten to two in the morning.
‘Did you hear that? It sounded like it was right over our heads,’ exclaimed Scarlett, swinging her legs over the side of the bunk bed.
Suddenly their room was lit by a flash of lightning which illuminated Scarlett's bare feet as they dangled in front of Poppy's face. Scarlett climbed out of bed and raced to the window.
‘Quick, count how many seconds before it thunders. See how far away the storm is,’ she said.
Together they counted to ten before a long, loud rumble reverberated around the room. ‘Ten miles,’ said Scarlett.
‘Dad says that's an old wives' tale,’ Poppy told her. ‘He says you need to divide the number of seconds by five.’
‘Two miles then,’ said Scarlett impatiently. ‘I love thunderstorms.’
‘Me too. I'm not sure Lydia would agree with us, though.’ The four-year-old had ratcheted up her wailing by several decibels and was now howling at the top of her voice. They could hear Nina murmuring as she tried in vain to settle her.
Another flash of lightning rent the inky sky, followed a few seconds later by a clap of thunder.
‘It's getting closer!’ exclaimed Scarlett. As she spoke they heard a click and the light in the hallway went out. ‘Uh oh. Power cut.’
‘I'll ask Nina if she has any candles.’ Poppy turned to go but before she reached the door the room was lit by a third strobe of lightning, followed immediately by a deafening crack of thunder. There was a flash of yellow and an ominous creak. Scarlett, her forehead pressed against the window, gasped. When she turned to Poppy her face had drained of all colour.
‘The lightning's hit the oak tree!’ she cried. Poppy ran to the window. They watched, horrified, as flames shot out of the old tree as though someone had fixed a giant Catherine wheel to its trunk. With a terrifying groan the tree sliced in two and toppled into the yard with a thunderous boom. Then everything went quiet.
