by Amanda Wills
Chapter 26
Poppy’s head was filled with thoughts of Cloud when she awoke the next morning. The drift was exactly a week away and she knew the weekend would be her last chance to catch him and bring him home to Riverdale. She picked up her mobile phone from the bedside table and texted Scarlett.
Hi Scar, any chance we can go for a ride on the moor and see if we can find you know who? P x
The screen flashed with a reply within seconds.
Course. Be here for ten. I’ll be by the stables. C U later! S ;-)
Poppy hadn’t ridden for a couple of weeks and it felt great to be back in the saddle. Flynn seemed as pleased to be out as she was and looked around with his bay ears pricked as they followed Scarlett and Blaze along the rocky track that led from Ashworthy to the moor. Scarlett chattered about school while Poppy scanned the horizon looking for Cloud’s dappled grey coat. They headed towards the Riverdale tor and as they drew nearer were bemused to see a huddle of people at the foot of the tor, looking and pointing to the cairn at the top.
“Who on earth are they?” cried Poppy. “Cloud’s not going to come near with that lot hanging around.”
Scarlett swung around in her saddle to get a better look. The group was mainly middle-aged men with cameras around their necks. A couple were filming with camcorders.
“Do you know what, I think they’ve probably come to look for Charlie’s black panther,” she told her friend. “I expect they read the story in yesterday’s Herald.”
Poppy’s heart sank. “Typical. We might as well give up now. Cloud will be miles away.”
“Let’s at least ride over to Riverdale wood and see if he’s there. You never know,” said Scarlett. But although they saw a couple of small herds of Dartmoor ponies there was no sign of Cloud.
It was the same story the next day. Even more people had turned up hoping to get a glimpse of the famous Beast of Dartmoor. Poppy felt so frustrated she could have wept. With school the next day she knew that any chance she had of saving Cloud from the drift had all but disappeared.
Caroline sensed her despair as they sat down to roast chicken that evening. She waited until Charlie had gone to bed before she tackled Poppy.
“Something’s up, I know it is. Are you worried about school tomorrow?”
“No, it’s not that,” Poppy replied miserably.
“You know you can tell me anything, don’t you Poppy? I’m on your side.”
Poppy looked at Caroline across the kitchen table and managed a weak smile. “I know you are. I should have told you sooner. I don’t really know why I didn’t. But I don’t want to keep secrets from you any more.”
Over the next half an hour Caroline listened quietly as Poppy told her about Cloud. How she’d glimpsed the flash of white in the woods they day they moved to Riverdale and the first time she and Charlie saw him by the river. She recounted how her suspicions that Tory knew where the pony had come from had been correct. Caroline looked shocked when Poppy described the hunter trial where Cloud had fallen in the mud, trapping Caitlyn beneath him, and how the pony had ended up at George Blackstone’s farm before being set free by a heartbroken Tory.
“You know Charlie and I kept going to watch the badgers? We weren’t. We were out looking for Cloud,” said Poppy, not daring to meet her stepmother’s eyes. “Every year Tory used Chester to lead Cloud to Riverdale where she kept him in the stable hidden from the drift,” she continued. “That’s what I was going to do last Sunday when you were in hospital. I had everything planned. Then Charlie went missing and I knew I had to go looking for him instead. But Cloud found me in the fog and led me to Charlie. It’s Cloud who saved Charlie, not me.”
When she finally raised her eyes to Caroline’s face she could see only concern so she ploughed on. “And the drift is next Saturday, so I’m too late to save Cloud now.”
Caroline looked at her stepdaughter. Poppy’s shoulders were slumped and her green eyes were forlorn.
“Oh Poppy, I had no idea. I could have helped, you know. You may not believe it but I was as pony-mad as you when I was your age.”
“You never said.”
“You never asked, sweetheart,” Caroline replied. “And I was lucky enough to have my own pony. I didn’t like to rub your nose in it.”
“What was your pony like?” Poppy asked.
Caroline’s face took on a faraway look. “His name was Hamilton and he was a fleabitten grey, not dappled like your Cloud. He was 14.2hh and the love of my life.” She looked at Poppy and smiled. “You go and sit by the fire. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
The lounge was warm and cosy and although she couldn’t shake the wretchedness she’d felt all weekend Poppy felt glad to be cocooned inside after the strain of the last few days. Caroline re-appeared with a tatty old shoebox tied up with a faded red ribbon. She sat down on the sofa beside Poppy and attempted to open the box one-handed.
“Let me help,” said Poppy. “What’s inside?” she asked as she leant in to get a closer look.
“Just some photographs I thought you might like to see.”
Photo after photo showed a handsome grey pony, ears pricked as he looked over his stable door, caked in mud while he grazed in his field, pulling hay from a net tied to a five bar gate. She riffled through the pictures. There were photos of the pony jumping over small fences, being shampooed, having his mane plaited and new shoes fitted.
“Is that you?” Poppy asked Caroline, pointing to a photograph of the pony nuzzling the ear of a slim blonde girl about Poppy’s age.
“Yes. And that’s Hamilton. I think I was about twelve when that photo was taken. You can see his stable in the background.”
“He was beautiful. He reminds me a bit of Cloud,” said Poppy, a catch in her voice.
“He was. And he was such fun. We had a ball together, we really did. For three years he was the most important thing in my life.”
“What happened to him?” Poppy asked.
“You remember my dad used to work for an oil company before he retired?” Poppy nodded. “When I was fourteen he was posted overseas and your Auntie Lizzie and I were sent to boarding school. My parents said we had to sell Hamilton. He went to a nice family but I was absolutely devastated. I never rode again.”
Poppy reached over and gave her stepmother a hug. Caroline held her close. “I really do understand how you feel,” she said, wiping a tear from Poppy’s cheek.
“I know you do. It’s just so unfair. I know something awful will happen to Cloud and there’s nothing I can do to help him. He trusted me, I know he did. And I’ve let him down.”
“Don’t give up hope, Poppy. We’ll go out early on the morning of the drift. You never know – you still have time to bring him home to Riverdale.”
Poppy seriously doubted it, but she supposed there was at least a chance. She tucked her legs up and sank back into the sofa, resting her head on Caroline’s shoulder.
“I’m glad I’ve told you about Cloud,” she mumbled.
Caroline kissed the top of her head. “So am I, sweetheart. So am I.”
