“But you’re not alone now,” Jess cried. “You’ve got Rosie and me! And we’ve got this horse sale to go to on Thursday.”
“You’re right, Jess,” Belinda agreed happily. “Oh wouldn’t it be brilliant if we found Golddust there?”
“Yes, it would,” Jess smiled and looked around at Belinda’s lovely horsy room. “Hey!” she exclaimed, pointing to a colour snapshot of a girl and a pony perched on Belinda’s book shelf. “Is that you? Can I have a look at it?”
“Of course.” Belinda took the photo down and gave it a quick dust with her elbow. “It’s me and Golddust at the novice jumping at Benbridge last summer.”
“The Benbridge show?” Jess exclaimed. “How fantastic... Tom jumped there last year too. He won the open jumping,” she said. She looked down at the photo in her hands. She looked and then she looked again.
“Hey, hang on a minute,” Jess said, her voice tightening.
“What’s the matter?” said Belinda.
But Jess hardly heard it. All of her earlier optimism vanished in an instant, like a light being switched off. When she spoke her voice didn’t sound like her own.
“But Belinda...this isn’t Golddust!” she mumbled.
“Of course it’s Golddust,” Belinda laughed. “I should know. She is my pony.”
“No, I don’t mean that, I mean...” Jess swallowed hard and then the words came spilling out. “I mean.. this isn’t the same pony I saw at Sandy Lane the other morning. This isn’t the pony I helped to catch!”
7
ASH HILL HORSE SALE
“It was awful, Rosie.” Jess walked along beside her friend, telling her about the visit to Belinda’s house. It was Thursday morning, the day of the Ash Hill sale, and the pair were on their way to the bus stop to meet Belinda. It was the first time they had been properly together since Monday. On Tuesday and Wednesday, Jess’s mother had put her foot down and reminded Jess of her other responsibilities. And when her mother was in one of her organising moods it was, Jess knew, best to obey her. Especially since she wanted to visit Tom in hospital that afternoon too.
Nick had caught Jess yesterday morning as she was leaving Sandy Lane and told her that Tom wanted her to go and see him in hospital. Nick was rather mysterious about it, but was gone before Jess could ask any more.
Now Jess filled Rosie in about what had happened at Belinda’s house.
“There I was looking at this photo of Golddust and I could see it wasn’t the same pony I helped to catch the other morning,” she explained. “The palomino I saw was pure gold, but I could see from the photo that Golddust has a circle of white hair on her forehead.”
“So what did Belinda say?” Rosie was curious.
“She asked me if I was sure and then she just sat there very quietly and didn’t really say much. Which made me feel pretty miserable. I thought I could help Belinda find Golddust. Now Belinda has no idea if Golddust has been stolen, has run away, or is lying dead in a ditch somewhere.”
“Well at least you know it’s not your fault Golddust has disappeared, but what a mystery,” Rosie said. “I wonder what happened to the palomino pony you saw then. I wonder where it came from.”
“I wish I knew,” Jess replied. “I went to the police station again this morning...on my own this time. I cycled all the way there. And I told them that I made a mistake...that I hadn’t seen Belinda’s pony after all.”
“What did they say?”
“I saw a different policeman this time. He didn’t say much, but he raised his eyebrows a lot and shook his head and wrote everything down in a big book and asked me to sign my name. Oh Rosie, is all this pointless? Going to Ash Hill, I mean...trying to help Belinda find Golddust.”
“We said we’d help her look, so we must,” Rosie reasoned. “Watch out, here’s Belinda now,” she said, seeing the tall girl waiting at the bus stop.
“Hello,” Belinda said quietly.
“Hi,” Rosie said. “Jess has just been telling me about Golddust not being Golddust. It’s very odd.”
“Isn’t it?” Belinda said as the bus appeared and they clambered aboard. “Strange that two palominos should be running loose on the same day.”
Rosie didn’t know what to say. They rode in silence for the rest of the way. Jess reached up to ring the bell and the bus shuddered and stopped. The doors swished open and the three girls jumped off. They followed a steady stream of cars and trailers along the road until they came to a turning and a sign in a field that said Ash Hill Horse Sale.
They weaved their way through the crowd until they came to the group of horses and ponies up for auction.
“Right, let’s be logical about this,” said Rosie as she bought a sale catalogue. “Are there any ponies that match Golddust’s description?”
Jess thumbed through the auction catalogue. “If Golddust is here, she’ll be a late entrant,” she reasoned. “After all, there hasn’t been much time between her being stolen and this sale.”
“That’s true,” Rosie agreed. “The late additions are on this slip of paper at the back. Look.”
There weren’t many, but there was still plenty to read.
“Here we go,” said Jess, reading aloud.
“Lot forty-two. Palomino pony. 13.2 hands without shoes. Fully warranted.”
“Hmm. A bit small, but worth a look.”
Belinda peered over her shoulder. “Here’s another one. Lot fifty-five. Palomino show pony. 14.2 hands. Rising five. Some blemishes, but sound.”
“They don’t make that one sound very attractive. Still, we can’t afford to miss it. It’s about the right height.” She turned the page. “Lot sixty-six. Registered palomino. Show jumper. 14 hands without shoes. Ideal jumper.”
“Hmm, that sounds promising,” Rosie chipped in. “Any more?”
Jess thumbed through the rest of the catalogue and shook her head. “No, that’s it. Not many to choose from.”
“Good,” said Rosie. “That means we can check them out quickly.”
“How shall we do it? Should we wait for their numbers to be called?” Belinda asked.
“Maybe we should go and have a look at them now,” Rosie suggested. “Pretend we’re interested buyers.”
“What, three girls with no more than a bus fare back between us?” Jess was suddenly hesitant. For a fleeting moment she wondered if this was such a good idea after all. Then she saw Belinda’s face, and she knew they had to carry on.
“It’s the only choice we have,” Rosie said firmly. “Shall we go together or split up?”
“Together, definitely,” Belinda said.
As they were faced with row upon row of sad and neglected horses, Jess felt less and less cheerful. There were good ponies of course – the ones destined for riding stables and some for a lucky handful of children who would leave with their very own pony. Jess looked longingly at these fit and healthy animals. At the same time, there was another pony who kept calling for her attention. The runaway palomino she had seen the other morning at Sandy Lane. “Goldie,” that man had called her. Where was that pony now?
“Lot forty-two,” said Rosie. “Here it is.” They drew to a halt beside a pony tethered to a pole. Belinda gave one look at the little pony and shook her head.
“Nope. This isn’t her.”
“That’s not even a palomino,” said Jess when they came to lot fifty-five. “It’s a dun. Definitely a dun.”
“That must have been the one with blemishes?” Rosie said. “Maybe they were trying to compensate by choosing a pretty colour for her.”
Lot sixty-six was beautiful. A really gentle palomino with kind eyes. “But it’s not Golddust,” Belinda sighed. She began to look defeated and Jess felt despondent.
“Come on,” Rosie said. “I’ve got a packed lunch. Let’s share it.”
Slowly they walked away from the ponies and flopped down as they reached a small group of trees.
“Cheese and tomato or ham?” Rosie said, offering the sandwiches aroun
d.
“Cheese,” said Jess. “Actually, I’d better eat this pretty quickly,” she cried, glancing at her watch. “I’ve got to go and see Tom this afternoon. I must get a move on.”
“You look a bit green, Tom.”
“Thanks a lot, Jess. You’d look a bit green if someone had sliced you open, rummaged about with your insides and then stitched you back up again with a needle.”
“Yuk.” Jess screwed up her nose. She fished about in her plastic bag and pulled out a pile of dog-eared magazines. “I know people are meant to give you grapes in hospital but I couldn’t find any, so I brought you some pony magazines. I’ve read them already. There’s a really good story in one of them about a ghost rider and a lost foal...” Jess hovered by Tom’s hospital bed. She could hear herself blabbering on and on.
There were eight beds in Tom’s ward, and four of them were occupied. Tom’s bed was by the window. Opposite, a girl of about Jess’s age slept soundly. There were dark circles under her eyes, but her hair was bright gold.
“That’s Mary,” Tom said, following Jess’s eye. “She’s got a pony.”
“Lucky her,” Jess said as she sat down on the bed. “Nick said you wanted me to come and see you,” she blurted out, curiosity getting the better of her.
Tom smiled. “So you’re not here to wish me a speedy recovery then?” he teased.
Jess looked downcast. “No. I mean...” she stopped and laughed. “Sorry, Tom. Of course I’m here to see how you are. But...”
“You’re right,” Tom interrupted her. “We’ve got a proposition to make to you. Me and Nick, that is. Nick said I should be the one to tell you, but he’s backing this all the way. It’s about Southdown,” Tom explained. “I won’t be able to ride, so would you like to take my place?”
There was silence. Jess knew it was her turn to speak, but she didn’t know what to say. She was going to ride at Southdown!
“I’m no replacement for you Tom,” she managed at last. “You’re a much better rider than me.”
“Well obviously no one expects you to do as brilliantly as I would have done,” Tom grinned. “Oh dear, I sounded just like Charlie then, didn’t I?”
“Horribly,” Jess agreed happily.
“But I reckon you’ll be in with a chance,” Tom continued seriously. “I’ll be out of here by then and I’ll be able to come and cheer you on.”
“Oh, that would be brilliant!” Jess cried.
“So how’s Chancey, Jess? Is he pining away for me?” Tom asked.
“He’s fine. But he does look a bit sad,” Jess said, trying to drag her mind back to normal conversation as little bubbles of excitement burst in her stomach. “Don’t worry,” she continued. “We’ve all explained where you are and that you’ll be back soon. He understands.”
“Of course he does,” Tom agreed. “He’s a very intelligent horse. Oh look, here’s my mum.”
Jess turned around to see Tom’s mother walking towards them, tall and elegant. Jess stood up to greet her. She had only met Mrs. Buchanan a few times and she didn’t want to make a bad impression.
But as Mrs. Buchanan came nearer, the smile froze on Jess’s face. Walking a few paces behind her, jacket bundled under his arm, was a stocky man. A man whose face Jess remembered well.
“You!” Jess croaked, as the man drew up alongside her. Ignoring Mrs. Buchanan’s surprised expression, Jess spoke again. “You’re the man with the runaway pony!”
8
EXPLANATIONS
Jess stood and stared. She knew she was being rude but she just couldn’t help it. The last time she had seen this man he had been chasing a palomino pony into the yard at Sandy Lane Stables. Jess stared some more.
“What’s the matter, Jess?” Tom began.
Mrs. Buchanan looked shocked at her behaviour, but Jess couldn’t move. She was face to face with this man – this thief! She didn’t know what to do. He peered at her now and a smile spread slowly across his face.
“I recognize you!” he exclaimed at last. “You’re the young lady who helped me catch Goldie the other morning!” He turned to the girl in the bed opposite Tom, who was just waking up. “Mary...this is the girl I told you about...the one who helped me with Goldie.”
Mary turned and rubbed her eyes. She propped herself up on her pillows and smiled at Jess.
“So is Goldie your pony?” Jess stammered slowly.
“Not mine,” the man explained. “She’s Mary’s actually. You were marvellous. I was rather upset that morning. You see Mary had been rushed into hospital the night before and I was taking Goldie to be looked after by some friends. I was trying to load her into the horsebox, but I wasn’t making a very good job of it. That’s why she took fright and bolted. If you hadn’t caught her, I don’t know what would have happened.”
“She’s a beautiful pony.” Jess wanted to say more, but she was still in shock.
“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Mary said eagerly, her eyes shining. “I miss her so much. What’s your name?” she asked.
“Jess. Jess Adams.”
“I’m Bob Hughes,” said the man. “And this, as you know by now, is my daughter, Mary.”
Mary smiled at Jess who still looked dazed.
“Would you like some of Tom’s orange juice Jess? You’re looking a little unwell.” Tom’s mother was full of concern.
“No, I...” Jess started.
Then Tom began to laugh. “Ouch my stitches!” he yelped. “I’m sure I heard that pony was stolen,” he continued when the pain had subsided.
“Stolen?” Mary’s father looked astonished.
Of course, Tom didn’t know that Goldie wasn’t the same pony as Golddust. Jess shook her head and began to explain until at last it all came out. About mistaking Goldie for Golddust and about Belinda and – even worse – about reporting it all to the police.
Mary’s dad laughed at this. “So I’m a wanted man now am I?”
But Mary was quiet. “Poor Belinda,” she said. “Her pony’s still missing.”
Jess nodded in silent agreement. One mystery had been solved. The palomino pony Jess had caught running into the stable yard hadn’t been stolen at all. She was safe and well...unlike Golddust.
“Concentrate!” Nick called. “Come on Jess, you’re letting Minstrel get away with murder. He’ll run out if you don’t check him.”
“Sorry Nick,” Jess mumbled. She shortened Minstrel’s reins and turned again towards the first jump. Urging him on, she balanced the little pony so that he met the fence at exactly the right spot and they flew over the cross poles with inches to spare.
“Better,” said Nick. “Much better.”
It was Easter Saturday and the Southdown entrants were having a special lesson. The show was less than two weeks away now.
“We’ve got the early evenings,” Nick had reassured them. “It’s still light enough to see what’s going on. Don’t worry, you’re all doing very well.”
“Tom gets out of hospital today,” Rosie said as they rode back to the stables at the end of the lesson. “I heard Nick talking to his mum.”
“I wonder how Mary is,” Jess said. She had told Rosie – and Belinda – all about Mary and Goldie.
“She must miss Goldie terribly,” Rosie said.
“Not as much as Belinda misses Golddust I bet,” said Jess.
Both girls were quiet for a moment. They hadn’t found Golddust at Ash Hill on Thursday and there weren’t any more horse sales for a while. Belinda had put posters up all around the area, asking for information, but so far there had been no response. It seemed like the end of the trail for the moment. For now, the Southdown Show loomed and for Jess at least, there was no more time to search.
Feeling guilty that she couldn’t help Belinda any more, Jess had asked her to come to Southdown. But Belinda had been hesitant.
“I’m not sure, Jess,” she had said. “I had been hoping to ride Golddust at Southdown. I don’t know if I’d feel right going there without her.”
Jess replayed this conversation in her head now as she led Minstrel into the yard.
“Don’t untack Minstrel, Jess,” Nick said, interrupting her thoughts. “He’s got a lesson in a minute.”
Jess was surprised. “OK,” she said. “But I thought I was booked on him for a hack.”
“Sorry about that,” Nick said. “You’ll have to ride someone else. Let’s see. Which horse can you ride instead?” He paused for a moment, mentally checking off the list of Sandy Lane ponies in his mind. “It’ll have to be Storm Cloud,” he said finally. He shook his head, but there was a grin in his voice.
“Storm Cloud?” Jess breathed. “Really?”
“Lucky you,” Rosie whispered.
“She’s the only one available,” Nick smiled. “Anyway, it’s the least I can do, seeing as I’m commandeering Minstrel for a lesson with our old friend, Petronella Slater. Well don’t stand there. You better get Stormy tacked up.”
“I’m going,” Jess said quickly, before Nick had a chance to change his mind.
Fifteen minutes later the eleven o’clock hack was ready to leave Sandy Lane. Jess kept an eye out for Petronella, but there was no sign of her. As Sarah led the ride on Feather, Jess looked back at the stable yard to see Nick checking his watch and muttering angrily. It looked as if Petronella was late.
“Walk on everybody,” Sarah called and Jess drew her attention back to the hack. Sarah turned Feather to the gate and the ride clattered out of the yard and down the lane.
For the next hour, Jess planned to forget about Petronella; forget about mistaking Bob Hughes for a thief; forget about Golddust even. Something told her that the chances of finding the pony were getting slimmer and slimmer every day. She tried to ignore the guilty feeling that she was letting Belinda down, but she had important things of her own to think about. Anyway, right now, she wanted to concentrate utterly and completely on Storm Cloud. It was such a treat to be riding her.
Runaway Pony Page 5
