For Sale Or Swap

by Alyssa Brugman

  Aunt Jenny sat away from the rest of the family with her hands folded in her lap. While her mouth stayed expressionless, her eyes were shining and bright, watching the boys, enjoying their exuberance and delight. Shelby wondered whether she always seemed to have that stern appearance because she kept her mouth closed. It occurred to her for the first time that Aunt Jenny kept her mouth closed because she had false teeth.

  Watching her, Shelby thought Christmas would be lonely for Aunt Jenny if she didn't come to see this family. She had no children of her own.

  Her mother handed Shelby a stack of presents. 'Um, we bought these before. We rang the saddlery and they said you could exchange them for something else, if you like. It's up to you, honey.'

  They'd given her a pair of cream jodhpurs with suede lining on the inside leg, a backpack full of grooming brushes, and a tin of leather polish. Shelby turned them over in her hands.

  'Thanks.' Her voice sounded brusque as she tried to keep it steady. She didn't want them to think she was ungrateful. The jodhpurs, in particular, were just what she'd always wanted.

  Shelby looked up at her mother, opened her mouth and shut it again. If they had given her swimmers, or CDs, or stuff for school – something unhorsey – then it would seem as if it hadn't happened at all; as though she wasn't allowed to be sad about it. And while she was trying to be strong and brave, and have a good Christmas anyway, she didn't want them to act as though losing Blue wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to her. She looked down at her lap. Her face was getting redder and redder.

  'Thanks for not pretending,' she murmured. Everyone was watching her. Shelby held her breath, trying to hold the tears in, and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Blake stood up and walked towards her. He put his hands on her cheeks.

  'What's wrong, Shel?' He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. 'Did you wet your pants?'

  Everybody laughed. It was a long, hearty laugh, probably bigger than the joke called for, but it felt good, and at the end, her father gave her a big hug.

  After all the presents were opened, Shelby helped her mum make the Christmas lunch. She set the table and folded the serviettes into hats. She tossed and dressed the salads, and laid the cold ham slices out onto a plate.

  In the lounge room, Blake and Connor played with their new toys while their father lay on the floor on his belly helping them put together the moving parts.

  When they sat down for lunch Shelby's parents took ages to serve the boys – cutting up their meat and ladling out gravy and sauces. Aunt Jenny looked across the table at Shelby.

  'You lost your little pony,' she said.

  Shelby nodded and looked down at her plate. She felt a familiar tightness across her chest. Last Christmas Dad had let her keep Blue in the back garden, and the pony had stood in the shade at the back window dozing, with his ears twitching the flies away.

  'I had a horse when I was about your age.'

  Shelby looked up. She couldn't imagine Aunt Jenny ever being her age. 'Really?'

  'My first was a stockhorse – Rex. Then after that I had a grey thoroughbred. He was called Kaiser when we got him, but it was not such a good name at the time. I renamed him Skydancer.' She laughed. 'I used to ride him over jumps and hedges, and pretend I was the girl in National Velvet. What was her name? I can't remember now.'

  'Velvet,' said Shelby.

  'Of course, it was too.' Aunt Jenny sighed. 'Velvet Brown. Skydancer indulged me, bless him. I daresay life with me was almost as hard work as his time on the track.'

  'Did you go to Pony Club?' Shelby asked.

  Aunt Jenny shook her head. 'We had cattle. All the horses worked – and the dogs and cats. Our family never kept animals that didn't earn their meals.'

  For the first time Shelby had an image of a younger Aunt Jenny, wearing an Akubra with a stockwhip in her hand, astride a big sleek thoroughbred, and galloping along a sloping plain, like one of the women from McLeod's Daughters – like Tess, who was Shelby's favourite.

  Young Aunt Jenny, she thought. A jillaroo – with real teeth.

  19 A Trap for a Bushranger

  The plan didn't eventuate the way the girls had expected. First, Hayley backed out. Shelby thought she might. There was too much risk for her. Erin started off enthusiastically, and had come up with most of the plan herself, but in the end it was Lindsey who had been the most practical.

  Monica rang Mr Morgan because she sounded the oldest. Her slightly clipped accent gave a business-like impression. Erin kept giggling in the background, and that put Monica off, but she still managed to set the trap, because a few days later Mr Morgan turned up at the stables in his truck.

  Shelby watched through a crack in the wall of Erin's tack room.

  'That's him!' she whispered.

  Erin grabbed Shelby's shoulder, making her jump. 'Get down!'

  'He can't see me,' Shelby replied, frowning.

  'Let me look,' Erin said, bouncing up and down.

  'You can look through the door. He hasn't seen you before.'

  Erin crouched down and peered around the corner, as though she was a private detective on a case.

  The man wandered over to where Lindsey was working near the feed shed. She shaded her eyes with her hand, and pointed towards the Crooks' yards. After he had turned away, she gave a surreptitious thumbs-up in Shelby's direction.

  Mr Morgan turned his head left and right, appraising the horses in the yards as he walked.

  'He thinks it's a smorgasbord,' muttered Shelby, her eyes narrowing. Then he disappeared from view. She pushed Erin's shoulder. 'Go out and tell me what you see.'

  Erin stepped halfway out the door. 'He's at Hayley's yard now,' she whispered. 'He's leaning on the fence. Mrs Crook has come out of the tack room. She's got her hands on her hips. She's shaking her head. He's talking again now. Now she's pointing up here!' Erin dove back into the tack room sniggering.

  'Erin! Now you look suspicious.'

  'He didn't see me. Do you think he saw me? What should I do? Should I go back out there?' Erin's eyes were wide.

  Shelby pushed Erin back out the door, and on the way Erin grabbed her broom. She stood in the yard sweeping the dirt, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Erin started whistling. Shelby groaned. Erin was the most conspicuous girl in the world.

  'Excuse me. I'm looking for a Mrs Wong,' said a man's voice.

  The name was Kim's idea. They'd laughed for ages when she first said it.

  Mrs Wong . . . first name, You-Done-Me.

  Mr Morgan hadn't asked for a first name, and lucky too, or Monica might not have been able to keep from laughing.

  It had seemed funny when they had talked about the plan in Hayley's rumpus room, and it was exciting when Monica had rung the man, but now that he was actually here and it was all really happening, Shelby was nervous. Too many things could go wrong.

  Shelby peeked through the crack in the wall again. Mr Morgan aka Mr Hall was standing at the gate to Erin's yard. He was smiling at Erin the way he'd smiled at Shelby that terrible day – friendly and confident.

  'I can't think of any Wongs,' replied Erin. 'But I don't know everybody here. Perhaps you should look around the other stables? I'm sure nobody would mind. People come and go all the time. There are so many horses at this place, and they all have different owners. Floats and trucks come in and out all day long. Nobody really pays that much attention.'

  Shelby silently begged Erin to stop talking as she'd said enough, but Erin didn't.

  'Except after dark. It's pretty much deserted then. Some horse transport trucks come in at night, but nobody checks them. It's a security nightmare, really. I keep my part padlocked when I'm not here. That lady you were talking to does too. And so do those two across there.' Erin pointed to Monica and Kim's yards. 'But none of the rest do.'

  Shut up, Erin.

  All the girls expected that the man would come back at night to steal one of the horses. They were counting on it. Once he stole a hor
se for real it would be a police matter. Erin was just trying to make sure it wasn't Bandit, or one of her friends' horses.

  'Take that one there, for example,' said Erin, pointing to a grey gelding a few yards away. 'They paid eleven thousand for him, and guess what? No lock. Nothing. They're asking to lose him, aren't they?'

  Erin finally stopped to take a breath. She swept the yard again and when she turned in profile Shelby could see that her face was as red as a tomato. If Mr Morgan didn't pick it for a trap then he was stupid. Shelby didn't think he was stupid at all.

  'Thanks for your help,' he said, and to Shelby's surprise he walked up the passageway between the stables to get a better look at the eleven thousand dollar horse. Along the way he spoke to a few more people, but most of them shook their heads.

  Erin kept on whistling and sweeping away until Mr Morgan had made his way to the end of the row of stables and back.

  'Thanks again,' he said, smiling and putting his index finger to his forehead, as if to tip his hat if he'd been wearing one.

  'No probs,' said Erin.

  Shelby stood at the door, and as Mr Morgan drove back down the driveway, Lindsey raced over to Erin's yard.

  'What did he say?' she asked.

  'You first,' said Erin.

  'He just wanted to know if I knew a Mrs Wong. I told him to ask Hayley's mum. I didn't know she'd send him up to you. I thought she'd just tell him to get lost.'

  'I told him heaps of stuff!' Erin grinned.

  'Too much,' said Shelby, frowning.

  'It worked though, didn't it? Didn't you see him checking out the gelding? He was almost drooling on the ground! He'll be back.'

  'We'll see,' said Shelby.

  20 A Change of Plan

  'You did what?' Lindsey's mum was standing at the back screen door, half in and half out. Shelby could see inside, and Lindsey's place was furnished with hotchpotch old couches and armchairs like her own house.

  'You brought a man, who you know to be a horse thief, onto our property? I can't believe you would do that, Lindsey. This place is our livelihood. People trust us with their animals. We can't afford to lose customers. And now you want to stay out there in the stables overnight? What about rats? Did you think about that? How do you know this man isn't dangerous? This is the silliest thing you've ever done.'

  Lindsey looked down and scuffed her feet on the doormat. Hayley cleared her throat. 'I think I'll go home now. See you guys later.'

  Shelby nodded. She knew that Hayley would back out, and why wouldn't she? Hayley had nothing to gain from their plan.

  'What should we do?' mumbled Erin.

  'You can go home too, if you like.' Shelby shrugged.

  Erin backed down the stairs. 'Okies. Ring me in the morning.'

  Shelby was disappointed. Erin had been the one most excited about the plan, but only when it was fun. Now that they were getting in trouble she was bailing.

  Lindsey looked over her shoulder. 'You're going to stay, aren't you, Shel?'

  Shelby could see that Lindsey wanted her to stay. Her mum wouldn't go off so much if Shelby was there. 'Is that OK?' she asked.

  Lindsey's mum rubbed her forehead. 'You're not staying in the stables. You can stay in the house where I can see you. Ring your mother and ask permission. And tell her everything. I don't want her thinking I had anything to do with it. Lin, give me this fellow's number plate and I'll call the police to let them know.'

  The girls looked at each other. 'Did you get it?' Shelby asked.

  Lindsey shook her head. 'Maybe Erin did?'

  'No,' said Shelby. 'Erin was with me the whole time.'

  Lindsey's mum shook her head. 'You didn't get his number plate.'

  'We meant to,' explained Shelby. 'It was part of the plan, but I guess we forgot.'

  Lindsey's mum stared at them both for a long time. 'Well, you'd better hope he doesn't turn up. I'll lock the front gate tonight.' She tut-tutted. 'Fifteen years I've been here, and I've never had to lock the front gate.'

  Shelby went into their office, where Lindsey's mum ran the business for the stables and the riding school, and rang home. While she was waiting she thought about how Erin had said too much to the man, and that sounded suspicious. She decided not to tell her mother everything, especially not after the way Lindsey's mum had reacted. Her mum might make them stop, and it was too late for that now.

  'Can I stay at Lindsey's tonight?' she asked.

  'Of course, Miss Muffet. Do you want me to fetch you in the morning?'

  'Thanks,' Shelby replied. She bit her lip. 'Oh, and I think I saw that man today – the one who took Blue. I didn't see properly, because I was in Erin's tack shed, and by the time I came out he had gone away.'

  That was sort of true.

  'Oh dear! What did he want?'

  'Dunno,' she said. 'He wasn't here long. Lindsey's mum doesn't think he'll come back, but she's locking the gate just in case.'

  'Hmm. Well, let's hope it was a different man. It would be terrible for someone else to lose their horse and go through what we've been through.'

  Shelby's face flushed. 'Yes, but if he did steal one then they could call the police, and the police would have to do something, because it wouldn't be a civil matter.'

  When she didn't answer, Shelby wondered if her mother suspected that she wasn't telling the whole truth.

  'See you in the morning,' Shelby said, eager to get off the phone.

  Afterwards, Shelby sat with Lindsey on the back step.

  'We really needed that number plate,' Lindsey said. 'If he does steal a horse tonight, we won't be able to track him.'

  'We'll just have to stay up all night, and if he does turn up, we can get it then.'

  Lindsey nodded. She wiped her knuckles across her eyes. 'I'm really sorry, Shel. I forgot all about it. When he was standing right there, looking exactly the way you described him, it was scary.'

  Shelby put her arm around Lindsey's shoulder. 'We all forgot. It's not really turning out like we expected, is it?'

  Lindsey stared out across the paddock.

  'I'm sorry you got in trouble from your mum. Thanks for sticking with it anyway,' Shelby added.

  'That's OK. I had a feeling that Hayley and Erin would back out.'

  'Me too.' Shelby drew her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around them. 'I understand, though. It's not their problem.'

  Lindsey shook her head. 'That's not true. Friends help each other out. That's what friends are supposed to do.'

  Shelby wasn't so sure. She thought you should help your friend when they needed you, but what if your friend was about to do something really stupid and dangerous? Shouldn't you try to stop them?

  21 Stupid and Dangerous

  Shelby sat cross-legged on Lindsey's veranda. She could hear insects chirruping in the lawn, and there was a streetlight directly opposite the house, which lit the front paddock. She could see the riding school horses cropping grass, or lying with their feet tucked under them.

  They'd had a subdued night. Lindsey's mum was still cranky, and the two girls had gone to bed early. They had decided to take it in turns to keep watch, but after midnight Shelby left Lindsey asleep, and crept outside. Lindsey had done enough already. Besides, Mr Morgan probably wouldn't turn up anyway.

  It had been several hours and she was feeling really sleepy. Every now and then she rested her eyes, leaning her head against the wall of the house, and then she would jerk awake, wondering how much time had passed.

  Only three cars had driven by the whole time. Shelby had watched their headlights rounding the gentle curve, momentarily illuminating the letterbox and the padlocked gate before they disappeared out of view.

  Shelby had just closed her eyes again when she heard a vehicle approaching. She could tell it was a truck because the engine grumbled. As it came around the curve the lights turned off, the engine cut out, and it rolled to a stop a few metres further down the street.

  Shelby sat up straight, wide awake now. S
he heard a door open and shut, and she crouched near the veranda railing so that she could get a better view.

  Mr Morgan appeared from around the back of the truck and stood at the gate for a moment inspecting the padlock. He plucked the wire of the fence next to the gate. Most of the paddocks at Lindsey's place were bordered by post and rail – strong timber fencing – but on either side of the front gate there were star pickets run with three strands of wire.

  Shelby breathed in and held it as she realised what he was thinking. It didn't matter if the gate was padlocked. He could cut the wire and make a gate of his own.

  Mr Morgan climbed through the fence and then stood still, listening. He started up the driveway, walking along the grassy kerb. When he was level with the house, Shelby held her breath again and stayed perfectly still. She was in shadow, and as long as she didn't move, he shouldn't be able to see her.

  Mr Morgan continued up the drive towards the stables. Shelby thought about what to do. He hadn't cut the fence yet. If he was going to take a horse now, he would have done that first. It would be difficult to hold a horse and cut the fence at the same time, and he would need a tool to do it. Maybe he wanted to see how easy it would be before he tried it for real?

  She considered waking Lindsey, but dismissed it. By the time she had gone inside, Mr Morgan might be on his way back. The best thing would be to run down, memorise the number plate, and run back again while he was still at the stables.

  She slipped over the edge of the veranda and made her way down the driveway, keeping to the shadows. She slid through the wire, as Mr Morgan had done, and ducked behind the truck.

  It looked like the same truck he had used to take Blue. She stood back and took a moment to memorise some detail about it.

  It was white – plain white with no markings, not even a make, although there were drilled holes on the side of the cab where a badge would once have been. There were four rectangular sliding windows running along the sides at the top.

  She moved around to the front. The number plate had thick mud on it and she could only make out two of the letters – NX. She walked to the back of the truck and saw the same thing – all the digits were caked except the first two. He must have made them muddy on purpose. She knelt down and put her hand on the plate to see if she could make out the letters and numbers by feeling their shapes. They were so muddy that it was too hard to tell. The next letter might have been P but it could have been R as well.