Ponies at Owls' Wood

by Scilla James

  By the time her mother rang off the rest of the family had forgotten Hannah and her ponies, and she decided to go up to her room as quickly as possible, out of the danger zone.

  I miss Mum, she thought, but I’m glad she’s not here at the moment. I need to get tonight over, and we need to find Delia. And not lose Polly. And not get murdered by Pete.

  At 11 o’clock Hannah opened her bedroom door and listened. Her father’s snores were audible from the landing so she had no worries there. She could hear Liam’s computer game giving out its steady bleeping from the lounge, and it sounded as if Talia was soaking in the bath with the radio on. Hannah made sure her own bedroom light was off and her door shut, and then she crept downstairs and out of the back door with her rucksack.

  She got her bike and pushed it as quietly as she could down the path. She’d thoughtfully undone the gate latch earlier, so that nobody would hear it click. The night was very dark and it felt as if the rain was starting again. Light drizzle – the sort that soaked you through. Conditions couldn’t have been worse, although the darkness might turn out to be helpful. Hannah took a deep breath and started off up the hill. She knew every inch of the way, so the fact that she didn’t dare put her bicycle light on was not a problem. What was a problem were her nerves. I must keep calm, she told herself.

  As she approached the top of the hill, Hannah looked anxiously at Tom’s house in the hope that he and his mother might have got back from London, but apart from one car and a solitary light in one of the upstairs windows, there was no sign of life. That must be his dad, she thought. How different it would have been if Tom had been there to meet her. In the field, Jack was lying down, but Polly was standing by the gate, staring out into the night. Hannah didn’t have time to stop and talk to her, but picked up head collars, some rope and, as an afterthought, a pair of strong scissors. These she stuffed into the rucksack on her back.

  ‘We’ll talk later,’ she said softly to Polly, ‘wish me luck!’ But Polly simply wandered off in search of a late night snack.

  Hannah set off down the lane towards the Steeple Chase. She cycled quickly but twice on the way saw headlights approaching in the distance and had to drag her bike behind a hedge until the cars passed. Periodically the rain eased, the clouds cleared and she could see well, but Hannah knew that at those times she could also be seen.

  It was close on midnight when she pushed up the hill approaching High Farm. It took a little while to hide her bike – whatever happened, it mustn’t be found until all this was over. She moved it deep into the undergrowth where the remains of this year’s cow parsley had grown tall and strong and would provide good cover.

  She looked down at the wood from the top of the path. It appeared as a dark mass, silent and forbidding. She ran as quickly as she could, the wet grass soaking her trainers and the bottoms of her jeans. Yet as the path led to the edge of the wood, she realised that it was not silent at all but full of scrabbling and rustling. The trees dripped water onto the grass and, although there was no wind, an occasional waft of a breeze set them stirring. As Hannah entered the full darkness of the woods, she knew she had never felt so frightened in her life. She thought she heard banging in the distance, then realised that the sound came from her own heart. Where was Jess?

  Hannah pushed on and reached the point where her friend was to meet her. The log they had sat on to talk now glistened with damp moss, but Hannah nevertheless sank weakly onto it, trying to still her trembling legs. There was no Jess. Hannah prayed that she would soon come. She tried to picture Grace, Cyn and Pete watching Liam’s DVD safe in the caravan, but then remembered the title of the film they were watching. The Night of the Living Dead! Terrible enough, but it wasn’t the living dead that scared her, it was the very alive Pete, and the memory of his hand on her shoulder. Oh please let him stay where he was!

  It seemed an age that she sat there. Above her in the trees she heard the occasional flapping of wings. Just owls, she told herself. That’s why it’s called Owls’ Wood and not Vampires’ Wood, or Axe Murderers’ Wood. She tried to direct her thoughts to the rescue they were about to undertake. That was the important thing. She had to stop being such a wimp and concentrate on the task ahead. Think about the ponies. She made a huge effort to be brave. I’ll kill Tom for not being here, she thought. At least I could have died in company. She tried closing her eyes but that was worse.

  At last, she heard light footsteps hurrying through the trees and Jess appeared, out of breath and very wet.

  ‘I’ve been standing outside the caravan trying to make sure they’ll be staying there,’ she said. ‘Pete’s been back to the house once already looking for more whisky, so the film can’t be that good. I heard him open the door to my bedroom but I lay still like I was asleep. I don’t think we’ve got much time. He might get bored any minute and come down to check the horses or something. And he’s been on his mobile again. Something’s going on. Have you got head collars? I’ve found four, but the foals won’t need them – they’ll just follow. I hope. But where’s the boy you said was coming?’

  ‘He couldn’t come,’ said Hannah. ‘His mum took him out and they didn’t get back in time.’ She showed Jess her head collars and the rope and scissors. ‘We’ll have to manage with just us.’

  ‘D’you think we’d be better riding them than leading?’ asked Jess. ‘What do you reckon? If we each rode one of the mares and led two others, and let the foals follow, I think it would be easier than trying to lead three each in the dark. We’ll have to go bareback.’

  Hannah thought this was a good idea. She didn’t say that she wasn’t that good at riding bareback. I’ll just have to become good quickly, she thought. Now that there were two of them she felt much better, and ready to risk all to get the ponies out of that dreadful shed and away to safety. She stopped thinking about what might happen next and concentrated on what was happening now.

  The two girls ran through the trees and down between the scrubby bushes. The building where the ponies were hidden was standing damp and quiet, and very dark. It was as if they themselves were tense and waiting for rescue. Jess had got the door unlocked and had put head collars on four of the ponies. Hannah put on the last two. They clipped lead ropes on and Hannah was glad she’d thought about scissors, as they had to improvise reins for the two mares they’d chosen to ride. Jess assured Hannah that she’d sat on both of them and they’d been fine.

  ‘I don’t think we should mount until we’re out of this bit of wood,’ said Hannah. ‘We’ll need to get onto the track where it gets wider.’ She led the way with her mare and a couple of the others on long lengths of rope. Jess followed with the same arrangement. They noticed that one of the ponies, a gelding of about 14 hands, was very jumpy and kept nudging the pony in front. The foals were crowding in, determined not to get left behind. They crashed around through the undergrowth and Hannah was afraid they might panic.

  It was a confused group that emerged onto the track. The ponies had spent days without proper food and they were weak and in poor condition. Although they’d been kept indoors, they were dirty from lying on damp straw and, of course, Pete had never thought of mucking them out. Now, Hannah and Jess helped each other by holding ropes and improvised reins as, one by one, they jumped as gently as they could onto the backs of the two mares. Grasping a collection of lead ropes and hoping for the best, they set off up the track.

  They didn’t speak. Hannah thought that the ponies seemed to know they were being taken somewhere better. She was surprised that they didn’t just make for the nearest grass to stop and eat, but all followed the ridden mares. Every step was one away from Pete and towards safety, but at any second it could all go wrong. Glad of the clouds that helped them remain invisible from the farm, Hannah and Jess pressed on.

  From the track they turned right onto the lane, and a new danger. If a car came it wouldn’t be able to get past; with eight ponies they were taking up all the space. The distance was only a couple of miles,
but to Hannah the lane appeared to go on forever. She wondered how Jess was feeling and looked over at her in the dark as they rode side by side with the other ponies bunched up around them. Jess’s thin face looked set and determined, and Hannah thought her very brave to be doing this against the terrible Pete.

  ‘Be ready to dodge into a field if a car comes,’ Jess said. ‘I don’t know what else we can do. They’re not going to walk in single file.’

  That was an understatement. Although the mares were well behaved, the rest, and the foals in particular, changed position in the group time and again, and Hannah found it took all her strength and skill just to hang onto the ropes, and not get them tangled up. But they were doing OK. They were still together, and they saw no cars. The lane was dark, but their eyes by now had adjusted and eventually, as they came up the hill, they could make out Tom’s house and the outline of the trees around Hannah’s field in the distance. Hannah began to feel that they might make it after all. It was tempting to try and hurry the ponies but she knew this would be unlikely to work. In another ten minutes they were nearing the field. Then Jess stopped.

  ‘Oh God,’ she whispered. ‘Can you see what I see?’

  Hannah looked. Down the hill were the headlights of what was clearly a large vehicle. It had reached Mrs Walters’s house, about three-quarters of a mile away. From the strength of the lights and the dark shape of the lorry, it looked as if it might be a horsebox.

  ‘They must be coming for the ponies tonight, not tomorrow,’ Jess said in despair. ‘That means that Pete will find them gone, and I’m dead.’ There was panic in her voice. ‘What shall we do?’

  The girls looked around and saw that they were close to a gap in the hedge. There was a crop coming up in the field on the other side that would get trampled, but that couldn’t be helped.

  ‘Let’s turn in here,’ said Hannah, ‘quick, and we’ll get behind the bushes. They may not see us.’

  The lorry was advancing slowly. The mares turned as the girls asked them to, and were ridden boldly onto the field, swinging left sharply to draw in near the hedge. The foals followed.

  Jess and Hannah dismounted and froze as the lorry’s powerful engine pulled up the lane and passed them. A whinny rang out into the night, but just as they looked at each other in horror, they realised that the sound had come from the lorry, and not from one of their group.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ muttered Jess. ‘He’s got another load coming. He brings them in as fast as we can lead them away. That explains why he’s been on the phone all evening.’ The whinny was followed by the sound of kicking.

  ‘Shut it!’ A voice from the front of the lorry shouted out into the night. Hannah had been able to get a glance at a man and a woman sitting in the front of the horsebox as it went by. She recognised the woman.

  The girls waited a while then remounted and came back out onto the lane. They were now very near Hannah’s field, and they pushed the ponies on with a last burst of energy. Hannah opened the padlocked gate and led her group in, with Jess following close behind. But it was then, as Polly came cantering over to see who had arrived in her field now, that one of the geldings did a massive spook and shot back out of the gate and away down the lane towards the village. There were whinnies of fright and confusion from the others, who seemed to know that this was not supposed to have happened.

  ‘Damn,’ swore Hannah. ‘Just as we almost made it! I’ll go after him. I’ll ride Polly – she’s used to the area and I know she’ll be a help.’

  But Jess was trembling. ‘What shall I do if Pete comes? He’s bound to come. If he’s sending ponies away tonight as well as taking new ones, he’ll have gone down to the shed by now to get them. Or, at least, he’ll go as soon as that horsebox arrives. He’ll be out looking for them, and for me …’ She looked as if she might cry. ‘This time I’ll have pushed him too far. Ponies to him mean money.’

  ‘Don’t panic!’ Hannah reassured her. ‘We’ve still got time to call the police and with all this lot to show them they’ll have to believe us, and maybe they might even catch the horsebox people as well. If I go and try to find the gelding you could take the others out of sight of the road. There’re some carrots in the shed and you could scatter them up the far end of the field. Then you hide in case Pete comes. But there’s a lot of country between your farm and here, so it may take him a while if he’s searching. I’ll ring the police.’

  Hannah said all this trying to sound calm and confident to reassure her friend, although that was not how she felt inside. Keeping her hands as steady as possible, she dialled 999.

  During the course of the next five minutes, Hannah wondered how the police ever caught anybody at all. She had her mobile in one hand while she answered endless questions about the emergency she was reporting, while with the other she struggled to get a head collar onto Polly, along with two lead ropes to form reins, and manoeuvre her out of the gate.

  However, this time at least, her call was sent to police headquarters and was taken seriously. She was told that a car would arrive as soon as possible. With a huge sense of relief, she jumped onto Polly’s back and set off down the lane at a fast trot. She scanned the countryside for movement and thought she saw the outline of a pony ahead, but wasn’t sure. To save Polly’s feet and so that she could go faster, she turned into the nearest field and cantered along the edge of it, all the time looking. Polly’s coat was wet and Hannah had to hang on to her mane to stay on. Behind her, she wondered if she heard the sound of a car engine, but she saw no lights.

  Hannah pushed her pony to go faster and they galloped around the edge of the field opposite Mrs Walters’s house. That was where Hannah thought she’d seen something but, whatever it had been, it was not a pony. She came back to the lane and then, with a sudden intuition, she looked over the hedge into Mrs Walters’s garden. There! In the back, where Mrs Walters grew her vegetables, was the gelding. He was standing in amongst a neat row of cabbages, and looked poised to flee at any moment. Hannah was about to dismount and lead Polly over to him when she heard a voice she knew.

  ‘Whoa boy, there’s a good boy. Come to me!’ And then, ‘It’s OK. I’ve got him!’

  It was Tom. His bike was thrown over Mrs Walters’s lawn and he’d slipped a rope through the pony’s head collar and was talking calmly to him.

  ‘You’re supposed to be saving horses, not letting them loose all over the countryside,’ he said to Hannah. ‘We just got back from London and I was watching for you from upstairs. Then I heard you all clattering up the lane, and this one legging it, so I thought you could do with some help. I dropped from the window and gave chase. I can’t think how you managed the rest without me.’

  ‘We managed fine,’ protested Hannah, though her relief was evident in her voice. Tom handed her the gelding’s rope.

  ‘But could you go back to the field and help Jess?’ Hannah asked him, ‘I’ll lead this one and we’ll be there in a sec.’

  Tom jumped on his bike and was off, while Hannah turned Polly and led the gelding out of Mrs Walters’s garden and back up the lane. Mrs Walters must still be asleep, she said to herself, as no lights had come on, but Hannah could see that her lawn had been churned up by hoof marks and her cabbages trampled. I’ll explain tomorrow, she thought. She persuaded the still nervous gelding to trot with her, and set off up the hill as fast as she could get the horses to go.

  10

  Dirty White Scarf and Miss Lycra

  But Pete had found them. The engine Hannah had heard earlier was his van, and as she approached Polly’s field she saw he was standing just inside, staring at the grass. He then began moving towards the far side of the field, where Hannah knew Jess would be hiding.

  Hannah felt herself go cold all over. She thought of Jess shrinking away into the corner of the field at Pete’s approach, and wanted to cry out and stop that terrible man, but her voice wouldn’t come.

  As Pete disappeared into the darkness, Hannah slid from Polly’s back and
led her and the gelding back into the field. She heard Pete shouting and saw the other ponies running round in alarm. Then saw him coming towards her, holding Jess by the collar of her thin jacket and shaking her violently. Hannah rushed forwards.

  ‘Let her go!’ She kicked at his ankles. He turned towards her swearing loudly, and she kicked him again. He dropped his hold on Jess, and turned to catch her, but she ducked out of his reach. Then she tripped over something in the dark.

  ‘Yes! It’s your interfering little boyfriend!’ Pete raged at her. ‘And you’ll join him on the ground when I get hold of you. How dare you come onto my property and steal my ponies. I’ll see you locked up for this!’

  ‘No! We’ll see you locked up,’ shouted Hannah. She saw that Jess was crouched down next to Tom, but couldn’t do anything to help either of them as she had to keep out of Pete’s way. She could hear Tom groaning, and thought with relief that at least he was alive! Suddenly Pete changed tack and started coming at Jess again, when there was the sound of another engine as a lorry arrived from the direction of the Steeple Chase and pulled up in the lane.

  ‘Hey Pete!’ A man shouted from the front seat. ‘Where were you? Your partner was crying and she said you’d gone out looking for someone. We’ve dropped off the ponies. We left them in the field by your house. But where are the lot we’re supposed to pick up? We were going away again when we saw your van. Is this the new pick up point then?’

  ‘No it’s not the new bloody pick up point you moron!’ shouted Pete. ‘But it is for tonight. Get these bloody ponies loaded and hand me the money. In fact, you can hand me the bloody money first.’

  ‘We can’t load them,’ said the man, ‘that’s your job. We’ve had enough trouble tonight trying to find where you’d gone. What are these kids doing here?’

  ‘They’re interfering is what they’re doing. I’ll open the gate and you back that lorry in quick. Let the ramp down and I’ll round this lot up – they don’t need tying. Take the lot. The boat sails in the morning then we’ll lie low. Grab that fat one first.’