The Racehorse Who Disappeared

by Clare Balding

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Also by Clare Balding

  The Racehorse Who Wouldn’t Gallop

  For the real Granny Pam,

  who says adults are allowed to read this too!

  Chapter 1

  Boris stood at the top of the stairs with his head on one side, looking suspiciously at the front door. He was motionless, as if frozen by a magic spell, apart from the gentle twitching of his nose. He had been standing like this for three minutes, ever since he had picked up the distant rumble of a van on the drive. It was a sound no human ear could have detected, but Boris had exceptional hearing. He was a Border terrier with extrasensory perception.

  ‘What’s the matter, Boris?’

  Charlie tousled his hair and broke the spell. He looked at her, and then again at the door. With a thud, the morning papers landed on the doormat and Boris started barking and ran full pelt down the stairs, three at a time. He landed, still running and barking, on the red stone floor at the bottom, skidded to a halt just before hitting the front door and grabbed a newspaper in his mouth.

  Charlie bounded down the stairs behind him and started their morning tug of war with the Racing Post. Boris growled and closed his eyes with the effort of hanging on to the paper. Charlie gripped the two ends that were sticking out of the sides of his mouth and lifted him off the ground. She dragged him into the kitchen, where only the offer of a biscuit would convince Boris to relax his jaw and give up the newspaper.

  Polly, Charlie’s best friend who had come to stay for the weekend, laughed as she followed them down the stairs.

  ‘Why does he want that newspaper so much?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know, but he’s done this every day for the last three weeks. I think it’s because he saw his photo on the front page the day after the Derby so now he thinks the paper belongs to him,’ said Charlie, smiling.

  After breakfast, Charlie, Polly and Boris wandered outside to check on the horses. It was a bright, sunny summer’s morning on Folly Farm, and the air was full of swifts darting across the farmyard from their nests under the eaves of the big barn. Charlie and Polly leaned on the gate, watching Noble Warrior and Percy relaxing in the field. They were having a little holiday after their exploits at Epsom. Just a couple of weeks of complete rest and relaxation – a ‘staycation’ for horses.

  Charlie’s older brothers, Harry and Larry, were feeding the pigs and, once they had dispatched their duties, came over to join them. Charlie could see they wanted something just by the way they were walking. Boris had calmed down and was sniffing the fence, picking exactly the right post on which to cock his leg.

  ‘We need to hold an Open Day for Noble Warrior,’ Harry announced. ‘All the big stables do it when they’ve had a Derby winner.’ He sounded authoritative, but that didn’t mean much. He had been on a self-confidence course at school and now seemed to think that the trick to being successful in life was to sound like an expert, even if he had no idea what he was talking about.

  ‘Do they?’ Charlie looked quizzically at her brother.

  ‘Absolutely,’ replied Harry, putting on his best Winston Churchill voice. ‘It’s your duty as the trainer of the Derby winner to parade him in front of his adoring fans. He may be Noddy to us, but he’s Noble Warrior to the millions who watched him and read about him. You must open the gates and let the public in!’

  ‘Do you reckon we could make any money out of them?’ Larry, who was a year younger than Harry, was suddenly interested. ‘Charge them a few quid for tickets and sell them overpriced ice creams?’

  ‘Honestly, Larry,’ sighed Charlie. ‘You got your share of the prize money for winning the Derby and you’ve bought all sorts of new stuff: an iPhone, an iPad, an iSpy and iWant – what more is there?’

  Charlie was a little disappointed that her brothers had fallen so willingly into the world of ‘must-have’ gadgets.

  ‘Yeah, but most of the money went on repairing the roof and the rest is being saved to resurface the drive. Booooring! What we really need is a fully integrated sound system for the farmyard. Music is the beat that makes us move and, if we’re ever going to get them to dance properly, they need to hear it.’

  ‘Who’s “they”?’ asked Charlie.

  ‘The chickens, obviously. Who else? Strictly Come Chicken Dancing is the BEST idea in the world and it will be brilliant TV. We just need to teach them to dance, and we can’t do that without speakers everywhere and a remote control so I can change the track from salsa to tango and show them how the moves are different.’

  Larry put one arm across his body, stretched the other one out to the right and started to move, as if dancing with an imaginary partner. He flicked his head from side to side and raised one leg, bending it at the knee. He had such a severe expression on his face that Charlie couldn’t help but burst out laughing. He glared at her.

  ‘I’m serious. This could be the key to our long-term fortune. No choreographer in history has successfully taught chickens to tango. But if I’m going to be the first, I need a sound system and, to pay for that, Noddy has to win another big race – like the King George or the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. Now there’s a city that would appreciate dancing chickens. They’ve got style and culture, those Parisians.’

  ‘Why don’t we wait until then to have the Open Day?’ Charlie asked. ‘The Arc isn’t until October and it feels better to celebrate at the end of the season rather than halfway through.’

  ‘It’ll be muddy by then,’ said Harry, taking charge again. ‘We’d ruin the fields if we parked cars in there in the autumn. It’s got to be now, while it’s fresh in everyone’s minds.’

  Charlie hadn’t been prepared for all the attention that had come her way after winning the Derby. She was the first female – and by far the youngest person – ever to train the winner. She and Joe Butler, the farmhand who helped her father milk the cows, had transformed Noble Warrior from a nervous, reluctant jelly who refused to race into a world-beater. The family had been offered millions of pounds for him, but he was not for sale, not at any price.

  Oh, and then there was Percy. The fat, grumpy, hairy little pony without whom Noble Warrior couldn’t function. Percy had played his part too, carrying Charlie across the middle of the Epsom Downs to get to the winning post before the runners reached it. He wasn’t for sale either, not that anyone had offered.

  When Noble Warrior had seen his friend Percy ahead of him, just beyond the finish, he had thundered down the straight so fast that Joe said it was like flying. In the photo finish, Noble Warrior’s black nose had just nudged ahead at the line. From the racehorse who wouldn’t gallop to the racehorse who won the Derby, Noddy had done them proud. They had made history.

  But ever since then, one big question had been swimming around Charlie’s head. The question that anyone who has achieved their dream asks themselves the very next day: What next? What should be my goal now and how will I achieve it?

  ‘Have you thought about trying anything else with him?’ Polly was chewing on a long, sweet stem of grass as she watched Noble Warrior roll, scratching his back on the sun-baked ground and wiggling his legs in the air. Boris mirrored his actions by rolling on the edge of the muck heap. He got up and shook himself, sniffed his back and wagged his tail, clearly pleased with his new aroma.

  Polly wa
s the reason the Bass family had bought Noble Warrior in the first place. Charlie had been at a horse auction, waving to get her friend’s attention. Unfortunately, the auctioneer took her wave as the first and only bid on Noble Warrior, and so her father ended up paying a thousand pounds for a racehorse they didn’t want and couldn’t afford. But Polly and her parents had pitched in to help. Polly’s dad, Alex Williams, was a bona fide racehorse trainer, and he had allowed Charlie to train Noble Warrior on his gallops at Cherrydown Stables. Without the Williams’s generosity, there was no way Noddy could have won the Derby.

  ‘Trying something else? What do you mean?’ Charlie was always open to new ideas, particularly if they came from Polly rather than her idiot brothers.

  ‘Well, some really famous horses have become celebrities in their own right,’ Polly explained. ‘Red Rum turned on the Blackpool Illuminations one year. Desert Orchid used to open supermarkets. And apparently Frankel does on-demand selfies! Dad sometimes sends a horse off to learn another sport. A really small racehorse might do better as a polo pony, or one that’s too slow for racing might be suitable for showjumping or eventing. Racehorses can switch to endurance riding and team chasing, and even sports like polocrosse and horseball.’

  ‘What’re they?’ asked Harry.

  ‘Ball sports that you play on horseback,’ Polly explained. ‘You have to have a brilliant horse, because most of the time you can’t use your reins to steer them because you’re too busy catching or throwing a ball. It can be quite dangerous.’

  ‘Epic!’ gasped Larry.

  Charlie watched Noble Warrior heaving himself to his feet. ‘Hmm. It’s an interesting idea, but he’s only just got the hang of being a racehorse. I don’t fancy trying to teach him not to be scared of a ball flying through the air!’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ laughed Polly. ‘He’d probably think it was a spaceship come to attack him. Poor old Noddy, he’s always scared of what might happen and he doesn’t know how lucky he is to live in the safest place on earth.’

  Noble Warrior walked languidly towards them and put his head over the gate.

  ‘I know,’ said Charlie, stroking his head. ‘His only worry is whether or not he can finish his food before Percy butts in!’

  ‘That’s another reason we should have an Open Day,’ said Harry. ‘To give Noddy a chance to get used to big crowds again. If we do it here at home, he’ll be fine when he gets to Ascot or Longchamp.’

  ‘OK,’ said Charlie, pulling Noble Warrior’s ear gently and speaking into it. ‘If it will help you in the long run, I suppose we can do it.’

  ‘Excellent!’ Harry clapped his hands, making Noble Warrior jump backwards. Harry carried on, oblivious. ‘I was thinking the first of July. It’s a Sunday and, if we do it then, we’ve still got four weeks to get him ready for the King George.’

  ‘The first of July? But that’s only a week away!’ Charlie was horrified. ‘How are we going to be ready in time? And how will people even know it’s happening?’

  ‘Ah, don’t worry about that,’ muttered Larry, tapping on his phone. ‘It only takes a second to tell the world something big is coming …’

  He held the phone up in front of Charlie and Noble Warrior and took a photo.

  ‘There we go. “Just chillin’: Derby winner on holiday with his trainer. Come and see them for yourselves. 1 July. Folly Farm. Tickets only £10. #selfieop #champion.” Perfect!’

  ‘Ten pounds?’ exclaimed Charlie. ‘Larry, that’s too much.’

  ‘All right, all right, Bossy Pants. I’ll make it two.’ He started tapping again. “Tickets only £2 per person, £5 for the whole family. #bargain #toocheap #grabitquick.” There: sent.’

  ‘So who’s going to see that?’ asked Charlie.

  ‘Only everyone on Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat and Facebook. Plus the twenty thousand people who’ve subscribed to my YouTube channel since we won the Derby.’ He looked down at his phone as it started pinging. ‘Yup, thought as much. Looks like the fans will be flocking here on the first of July. Oh, yeah!’ Larry high-fived Harry, then grabbed his brother in an embrace and tangoed him towards the house.

  ‘C’mon, bro, we’ve got chickens to train,’ said Harry.

  ‘And money to drain,’ replied Larry, as they shimmied away.

  Charlie sighed and looked despairingly at Polly. ‘You’re so lucky not to have brothers,’ she said, leaning down to stroke Boris. ‘They always think they know best and then just go ahead and do things, whether I want to or not.’

  Polly shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘Technically, they did wait until you said yes about the Open Day, but I know what you mean.’

  ‘They don’t understand how much there’ll be to organize, and I bet it’ll end up being me that has to do it all. They’ll be off with their stupid chickens. I just want to make sure Noddy doesn’t get scared and that Percy doesn’t try to bite anyone. You will help me, won’t you?’

  Polly reached out and patted Charlie’s arm.

  ‘Of course I will. That’s what best friends are for.’

  ‘Thanks, Polly!’ Charlie lifted her hand and sniffed it. ‘Oh, no! What’s he been rolling in now? Boris, you little monster, you stink!’

  Boris looked up at his owner and wagged his tail. He grinned at her and then started spinning round on the spot. Charlie and Polly laughed. They couldn’t help it. Even when he did something awful, Boris got away with it because he was funny.

  ‘Hey, girls! How’s tricks?’ Joe was walking towards them, two ropes in his hand. ‘It’s time to get this pair back indoors. The forecast says it’s going to rain later and we don’t want them getting wet and catching a cold.’

  Polly looked down at her shoes.

  ‘Here you go.’ Joe passed Charlie one of the ropes. ‘You take Percy, but be careful he doesn’t drag you across the field. He knows it’s nearly lunchtime. Polly, do you want to take Noddy?’

  Polly took the rope without looking at Joe and nodded her head.

  ‘You’re very quiet, Polly,’ said Charlie. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Nothing,’ muttered Polly, shaking her head vigorously and scuttling into the field to click the rope on to Noble Warrior’s headcollar.

  Joe led the way, with Charlie and Polly behind him, while Boris half trotted, half hopped along beside them, alternately lifting one back leg and then the other.

  ‘So I hear we’re having an Open Day in a couple of weeks,’ said Joe. ‘The boys told me this morning. They want me to come in my racing breeches and colours. I said it might look a bit daft away from the racecourse, but –’

  ‘Hang on,’ Charlie interrupted. ‘They told you this morning?’

  ‘Yes, before breakfast. Harry said they were just clearing up a few minor details before they announced it. Larry mentioned it on Facebook yesterday in a very cryptic way. “Want to meet a Derby winner? Big announcement coming soon.” ’

  ‘He wrote that yesterday? They only asked me just now!’ Charlie shook her head in disbelief and, as she slackened the rope, Percy seized the opportunity to get free. He charged towards the barn, pushing past Noble Warrior.

  ‘Ow!’ cried Charlie when the rope started to burn as Percy pulled it through her hands.

  ‘Let go!’ shouted Joe. ‘Just drop the rope!’

  Charlie was pulled forward with such force that she fell on to her stomach and was dragged over the cobbles. Still she tried to cling on.

  ‘Let go!’ Joe shouted again. ‘I mean it – let go before you get hurt!’

  Charlie finally heeded his advice. Percy cantered free towards the barn, where he buried his head in Noble Warrior’s bucket of feed. Joe helped Charlie to her feet while Polly led Noble Warrior gently towards the barn.

  ‘Noddy, you’re a good boy, aren’t you? You wouldn’t be that rude,’ Polly said, as she unclipped his rope and shut the gate behind them both. ‘I think you’d apologize for him if you could.’

  Noble Warrior looked at Percy, who wa
s gobbling as fast as he could, and then back at Polly. He lowered his nose and nuzzled her neck.

  Charlie dusted off her legs and examined her hands.

  ‘You’ll need a bit of ice on those palms,’ Joe said. ‘Polly, will you take her in and look after her? I just need to make sure Percy hasn’t eaten all the protein mix, the little blighter.’

  Back in the kitchen, Charlie held her hands under the cold tap. Her palms were red and sore.

  ‘I’ll get you some ice in a tea towel and you can hold that for a while. It’ll help stimulate the blood flow. We do it with the racehorses all the time,’ said Polly.

  ‘It’ll be fine in a minute,’ Charlie replied. ‘I’m just cross with myself that I lost concentration and let him take advantage. When food is involved, Percy will do anything to get to it.’

  ‘Do you want me to look after him during the Open Day?’ Polly offered. ‘That way you can relax and just focus on Noddy. I won’t get distracted and I’ll make sure I wear gloves in case he tries to do the same to me.’

  ‘Would you do that?’ Charlie never failed to be impressed by her friend’s thoughtfulness. ‘That would be really kind. It wouldn’t be great if he got loose and suddenly rampaged through the crowds in search of an ice cream.’

  Polly nodded her agreement.

  ‘Thanks, Polly. You’re the best!’

  Chapter 2

  Charlie couldn’t believe so many people had turned up. There were dozens of cars parked in the field and more snaking down the drive. Larry was in charge of parking and, looking from the kitchen window at the crooked lines of vehicles, Charlie now regretted that delegation decision. She hoped her brother would politely prevent the visitors from coming into the farmyard until the proper time.

  For the past five days, her brothers had been trying to teach the chickens to form a guard of honour, but it hadn’t worked. If they couldn’t get them to perform a simple obedience test like that, what hope did they ever have of teaching them to tango? Their dreams of a TV series of Strictly Come Chicken Dancing were crushed. Luckily, they’d got over the disappointment already and had moved on to the pigs, Elvis and Doris, whom Harry was convinced could be living, breathing metal detectors if they were trained correctly.