Too Many Ponies

by Wilkinson, Sheena;

  ‘Ponyboy,’ someone – Josh, he thought – said. ‘No way, sir. Nobody can be called Ponyboy.’

  ‘Aidan could,’ said Olly, Josh’s sidekick, in a thoughtful voice. ‘He loves ponies.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, boys,’ McClusky said. ‘“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”’

  Aidan flicked through the pages. The book was nothing to do with horses. The character was just called Ponyboy. Which, whatever McClusky said about roses, was totally stupid. Lucy turned round and grinned at him, but Aidan didn’t smile back. If it hadn’t been for Lucy, nobody here would ever have had to know that he liked horses.

  They had PE in the afternoon. Aidan had liked PE at primary school – he was wiry and fit from working in the yard, and had been on the football team. Here they played rugby. Even so, he seemed to get the hang of it OK.

  ‘Good effort,’ said Holden, the coach, at the end of the session. ‘We have rugby practice every Saturday morning – soon see how you shape up.’

  ‘Sir – Saturday? I can’t – I’m busy on Saturdays.’

  Holden rolled back on the heel of his trainers so he could really look down his nose at Aidan. ‘What could be more important than training for your school? I don’t invite just anyone to my Saturday sessions, you know.’

  ‘I have to … I help out at home.’ He didn’t want to mention the yard and the horses, with all the other boys listening, but as soon as the words were out he realised that it sounded like he spent his Saturdays hoovering or washing up or something.

  Not even Olly or Josh laughed out loud, not with Holden looming, but Aidan knew they’d heard.

  Queuing for the bus after PE, half-watching everybody jostling and carrying on, Aidan cheered himself up with the thought that in only half an hour he’d be walking up his own lane to his own chestnut pony, Firefly, and to poor scabby September. It was his turn to muck out the barn where the foals lived. It was a filthy job and he and Kitty fought to get out of it.

  ‘Going home to do a bit of helping, Ponyboy?’ Josh was so close that Aidan could smell his cheese-and-onion breath.

  ‘Cause nasty wugby is for boys, isn’t it?’ Olly put on a high-pitched voice. ‘I have to stay home and help my mummy.’

  ‘I have to bwush my wittle pony’s wuvly tail.’

  A couple of other boys giggled and pushed closer to see what the craic was.

  Ignore them, Aidan thought, hating the sick churning of his stomach and the cold creeping of his skin. He stared at the ground. When you looked closely at concrete it wasn’t just grey, the way you’d think. There were little splinters of colour in it.

  Olly gave him a shove that propelled him into some older boys.

  ‘Watch it,’ they grumped.

  The bus would be here in a minute. Aidan was right at the front of the queue. He’d make sure he got a seat at the front and he’d read his book again. If he ignored them they’d get bored. Everybody knew that.

  ‘Oy, Ponyboy. I’m talking to you.’

  ‘Well, don’t,’ Aidan said. ‘I’m not talking to you.’ But his voice squeaked thinly through a dry mouth and he wished he hadn’t spoken.

  ‘Ooooh, unfriendly!’ Josh poked him in the chest – not hard, but enough to make him step back.

  ‘Will you firsties wise up!’ an older boy shouted.

  Suddenly someone burst in and gave Josh a hard shove back. Someone short and square and cross.

  ‘Leave him alone!’ Lucy shouted. ‘Pick on someone your own size.’

  She stood poised, elbows ready to do more shoving if she needed to.

  ‘Ooooh, here’s your girlfriend,’ Olly said.

  ‘I need my girlfwiend to save me fwom the nasty boys,’ Josh said.

  The bus lumbered round the corner at that exact moment and Aidan, at the front of the queue, stepped forward, away from the lot of them, feeling in his blazer pocket for his bus pass. Half an hour, he thought. Half an hour until I’m home.

  And next day – well, next day, hopefully, they’d have moved on to someone else.

  Chapter 3

  Lucy’s Brilliant Idea

  PUZZLE cleared the cross-pole with a flick of his tail. Too easy, he seemed to say, as he gathered speed. Lucy steadied him for the corner and the big wall. It wasn’t really a wall. Kitty and Lucy had piled boxes in front of an ordinary pole, but it was the solidest jump they had. Puzzle’s black ears pricked and he soared over it.

  ‘Again,’ Lucy said, rubbing his shoulder. ‘Come on, boy.’ She had done the three jumps at least six times, and every time Puzzle had sailed over like a show-jumper.

  ‘This is too easy for you, isn’t it?’ Lucy murmured. ‘Bet the jumps at Sunnyside aren’t like this. Bet they’ve got proper stripy poles and everything. And I bet there’s always someone to help you put the jumps up.’

  She felt a bit sore that she hadn’t been invited to Sunnyside yet. The only place she’d been invited to was Erin’s house, but when she told her mum where Erin lived – a big estate on the edge of Belfast – her mum said she couldn’t go.

  Lucy cantered round the sand-school, feeling Puzzle fit and fresh, ready to break into a gallop. I want to go out for a ride, his pounding hooves said. There were miles of tracks round the fields at Rosevale – that was one good thing – but they were only for walking and trotting. For most of the year the surface was too hard for speed, and anyway, Declan didn’t like you disturbing the horses in the fields.

  The sand-school gate swung open and Aidan appeared, leading a tiny grey. It took Lucy a moment to recognise it as the scabby pinkish pony.

  ‘She looks better,’ she called over, bringing Puzzle back to a walk. The pony’s shoulders steamed. Lucy let him walk round on a long rein, and he stretched his neck out.

  Aidan walked the little grey beside them. The ponies turned their heads towards each other with interest. Lucy tried not to stare at the grey’s scabby coat. She hoped Puzzle couldn’t catch anything from her.

  ‘Aidan – have you told your dad about those boys?’

  Aidan’s face flushed. ‘There’s nothing to tell. And it’s none of your business. I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.’

  ‘Well, you’re not too good at fighting them yourself, are you?’ Lucy kicked Puzzle into a trot and the grey flinched away at the sudden movement. When Lucy looked back over her shoulder, Aidan had his hands full calming her down. Lucy slowed Puzzle, feeling mean. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Didn’t mean to scare her.’

  Aidan sighed. ‘It’s OK. Just … don’t go on about school.’

  From the way his face had gone, tight and closed, Lucy knew Aidan was serious. If anyone had been teasing her as much as Josh and Olly teased Aidan, she’d have hit them by now. Or at least told. But she changed the subject obediently: ‘Do you think your dad would let us get new jumps?’

  Aidan looked round at the greyish poles, dented barrels and old tyres. ‘What’s wrong with the ones we have?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, Aidan, they’re rubbish! Half the poles have been broken and there’s no way of making anything more than a metre. Jade says –’

  ‘You haven’t jumped more than a metre!’

  ‘Only because the jumps aren’t big enough. I bet you I could.’

  It was ages since she’d seen Aidan jump more than a centimetre. Firefly, who’d been a really good show-jumper in his day, was wasted on him.

  ‘Well, you can always ask Dad,’ Aidan said. ‘There he is.’

  Declan leaned over the gate. ‘Going OK?’ he asked Aidan.

  ‘Declan,’ Lucy said, bringing Puzzle to a halt by the gate. ‘Aidan and I were just saying, these jumps are a bit past it. I just wondered if there was any chance of some new ones?’

  ‘Jumps?’ Declan stared at her as if she had asked for the moon.

  ‘Just a couple.’

  Declan pushed his dark hair back from his forehead. ‘Lucy, I’m turning horses away every day because I can’t afford to fee
d them.’ His voice was fierce. ‘Bedding, shoeing, feed, hay, the vet – have you any idea how much the cost of everything has gone up in the past few years?

  ‘Um … well …’

  Lucy’s parents were always complaining about this too, when they paid Puzzle’s livery bill every month, but she didn’t see what it had to do with a few proper jumps.

  ‘So no – unless you buy them yourself, there is absolutely no chance of new jumps. And you’re going to sicken that pony anyway.’

  ‘Only because the jumps are so crap!’

  She wished she had lots of money, but she was a terrible saver. They were meant to be having a big charity fund-raiser at school – the whole of the junior school. Maybe she could have a campaign of her own, for new jumps. Her mum might pay her to do chores.

  ‘Dad,’ Aidan said. ‘There’s plenty of old wood lying about. Could Lucy not take some of it and make some jumps?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Lucy said, not wanting to give Declan the satisfaction of refusing. ‘I’m sure you need all your spare wood for firewood or patching stables.’

  ‘We do, actually,’ Declan said. ‘Aidan, the foals need to be mucked out.’

  ‘It’s Kitty’s turn!’

  ‘She’s gone to visit your gran.’

  Aidan sighed.

  ‘I’ll help,’ Lucy offered. ‘Soon as I cool Puzzle down.’

  She looked thoughtfully at Declan’s back as he walked away. He was always worried about money – Rosevale depended largely on donations – but she’d thought he was keen for Aidan to start jumping Firefly properly. So if he wouldn’t even spare a bit of old wood – well, it meant things must be really tight.

  The old barn was the most decrepit building at Rosevale. It was normally used for storing hay and shavings, but when Declan had been asked to take six tiny Welsh foals who’d been found tethered on some wasteland, he had patched up the roof and fenced off half the barn for them. It wasn’t five-star accommodation, but they had a deep bed and plenty of hay. As always, at the sound of humans entering, the foals rushed to the bars of their improvised stall, pushing at Aidan and Lucy’s hands.

  ‘They’re cheeky enough, anyway,’ Lucy said, as a tiny chestnut with huge eyes chewed her sleeve. ‘And they’re getting big.’

  ‘Dad says they’re a nuisance,’ Aidan replied.

  ‘Aw, but they’re so cute.’ Lucy scratched the foal’s fluffy brush of forelock. ‘And they can’t be much bother. It’s not like you have six stables to muck out.’

  ‘No. But we’re kind of stuck with them. Nobody wants foals this young. OK, will you take this fork?’

  Aidan barricaded the foals in a corner of their stall with a length of rope, and threw them some fresh hay to keep them occupied.

  It was a dirty, sweaty job. The foals were mucked out every day, but they still managed to produce huge amounts of dung. Lucy dug her fork into a corner of the bed and it sank gloopily. Under her boots the bedding squelched.

  ‘Ugh. Do you never take the wet out?’ she asked. ‘This is swimming.’

  ‘Course we do.’ Aidan flicked a forkful of dung onto the wheelbarrow. ‘Every day.’

  He set down his fork and came over to where Lucy’s boots were sinking into the wet bed.

  ‘Oh.’ He frowned and dug the toe of his own boot in. ‘Six foals can’t have peed this much since last night.’ He lifted a handful of the darkened wet bedding and sniffed it.

  ‘Eeww.’ Lucy wrinkled her nose.

  ‘It’s just water.’

  He looked up. Lucy looked up. The corrugated iron roof sagged above them, the way it always had. Except …

  ‘That bit of the roof has totally rusted through. No wonder the rain’s got in.’

  When you looked carefully you could see the grey of the sky in the gaps.

  Aidan sighed. ‘That’s all we need. There’s nowhere else for them and … I’d better go and tell Dad.’

  Lucy decided to stay where she was. She didn’t want to see Declan’s reaction. The foals, not knowing they were a nuisance, not caring that their home was falling down round them, kept on munching with their tiny mouths, their big eyes watching Lucy as she shovelled and dug and wondered how much a new roof would cost.

  And that was when she had her first brilliant idea.

  Chapter 4

  Charity Case

  MISS CONNOR clapped her hands in the way Aidan and the rest of 1C knew meant business.

  ‘Now,’ she said in her beamiest voice, ‘who wants to nominate our special charity for this year?”

  Several hands shot up – the people who’d actually spent the weekend thinking of a charity. Lucy waved hers around. Aidan never put his hand up in class, and anyway he hadn’t thought of anything. He’d been too busy helping his dad to patch the barn roof and replace all the wet bedding. He’d hardly managed to finish his real homework, never mind extra thinking.

  ‘Africa,’ said someone.

  ‘Africa’s not a charity,’ said Jade. ‘It’s a country.’

  ‘It’s a continent,’ said Erin, who listened in class.

  Jade gave Erin a mean, narrow-eyed stare that made her look just like her evil twin Josh. Aidan had no idea why Lucy was always hanging round that Jade. Even at the yard now, it was always Jade says …

  ‘Why don’t I put down Oxfam?’ suggested Miss Connor. Her eyes raked the room again. ‘Oliver?’

  ‘The rugby club,’ Olly trumpeted.

  There was an immediate outcry.

  ‘It’s not meant to be a school thing.’

  ‘The rugby club’s not a charity.’

  Miss Connor banged on the board. ‘It’s got to be a proper charity,’ she said. ‘All right, Lucy, you don’t need to wave your arm like that. I can see you perfectly well. Now, what’s your idea?’

  ‘Rosevale,’ Lucy said promptly and grinned at Aidan.

  For a moment he thought he hadn’t heard her properly. Then, when Miss Connor said, ‘And what sort of charity is that?’ and Lucy started telling the class, he wished he could climb inside his schoolbag and never come out.

  ‘It’s a sanctuary for horses,’ Lucy was saying in her clear voice. She actually stood up and everybody listened. ‘They rescue them – often they’re starving. Or they’ve been abused. Sometimes they’ve even just been abandoned – haven’t they, Aidan?’

  ‘Um,’ said Aidan. He circled a scribble on his desk with his fingertip.

  ‘Aidan.’ Lucy’s voice was cross. ‘You can tell them better than me. It’s your home.’ When he didn’t say anything, she went on in an even stronger voice. ‘Aidan’s dad runs it. But they could really do with the money. It costs a lot to look after horses. And they need to do some urgent repairs. And there’s lots of horsey people in this class, so I think Rosevale is the charity we should support.’

  She smiled round. Erin clapped.

  ‘Thank you,’ Lucy said and sat down.

  ‘Well,’ Miss Connor said, ‘that was a lovely speech, Lucy. I’m sure we have lots of animal lovers in 1C. And it’s good to support local charities.’

  She wrote Rosevale on the board in her big loopy writing. It sat there in red board marker. Aidan kept his eyes fixed on his desk. Was Connor totally deaf? Could she not hear, above the general discussion about starving children and sick people and abused animals, what they were saying?

  ‘Ponyboy lives in a sanctuary!’

  ‘Yeah, a sanctuary for losers.’

  ‘Oh, my poor ickle pony.’

  ‘Any more ideas?’ Miss Connor asked. ‘Right, two minutes’ discussion with your partner and then we’ll vote.’

  Aidan voted for Oxfam without lifting his eyes from his desk. Lots of the girls voted for Rosevale, but Oxfam won.

  On the bus home Lucy sat with her chin in the air and wouldn’t make eye contact, and when she came to ride Puzzle she didn’t offer to help with anything.

  ‘YOU’RE stupid,’ Kitty said. She and Aidan were poo-picking in one of the fields – a boring job, but e
asy enough, apart from wheeling the full wheelbarrow to the muck heap afterwards. Firefly, Midge and Big Sam came over to poke their noses into the wheelbarrow and stayed around hoping for titbits, but then lost interest and started to graze. ‘I’d love my class to raise money for here. It’d be cool.’

  ‘Yeah, but …’ At the local primary school everyone knew Rosevale. Once, his dad had even brought old Ned into school and done a talk about cruelty to animals, and Aidan hadn’t minded at all. Nobody had sat behind him singsonging You live in a charity, you live in a charity. ‘Anyway,’ he said, starting to push the wheelbarrow over to a heap of dung, ‘it’ll only be a cake sale or something. They’ll probably raise hardly anything.’

  ‘Hardly anything’d be better than nothing,’ Kitty said. ‘Dad said if feed prices go up again this winter he’d have to have some of the old horses put down.’

  Aidan wheeled round so quickly that a dollop of dung flew off his fork and hit Kitty’s wellie. He looked at Big Sam, dozing now by the hedge, his lower lip hanging.

  ‘No way. Dad would never do that. You’re just trying to make me feel guilty.’

  Kitty shrugged. ‘I heard him telling Mum. After the man came out to look at the barn roof. Come on – let’s get this finished and go for a ride. While we still have ponies left.’

  Chapter 5

  Another Brilliant Idea

  IT was Jade who told Lucy the amazing news.

  ‘It’s that lottery winner who bought Greenlands. Dermie Doyle.’

  ‘Sounds like a spot cream.’ Lucy still didn’t like thinking of Greenlands belonging to anyone.

  ‘Yes, but listen. Susie says he’s some wee man from the back streets of Belfast, but he’s desperate to get in with the horsey crowd, and this is how he thinks he’ll do it: let us ride over his estate and give out – are you ready for this? – five thousand pounds to the best team. Susie says he’s a joke, but his money’s real enough. I wish you could be in our team, Lucy, but you all have to be from the same yard; it’s the rules. If we win, Susie’s getting a horse walker.’

  Lucy knew Jade must have got it wrong – prizes at local horse shows were rugs and sacks of feed – not five thousand pounds. But when she looked online, she saw that Jade was right. She checked the rules, printed everything off and went to find Aidan. She ran him to ground in the library, colouring in the map they had to do for geography.