Pony Club Cup (Woodbury Pony Club Book 1)

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Pony Club Cup (Woodbury Pony Club Book 1) Page 14

by Josephine Pullein-Thompson


  “I hope Mum’s giving them hell,” said Paul as James came galloping up the hill to finish.

  “Great,” he said, dismounting and loosening Ferdinand’s girths. “Really great.”

  “The course rode well, did it?” asked David, his eyes concentrating on Hanif, who trotted through the trees, popped over the angle jump, and then angled the horizon jump too, so that he didn’t land pointing straight downhill.

  Oliver started Alice. She was looking forward to her ride; she felt completely at home with Saffron now, and having jumped everything but the first jump, she had no qualms about the course. She was filled with happiness as she galloped along the valley, sailing over the jumps. She felt that Saffron was a partner; she was steadying him and sending him on, but he was agreeing with the arrangements, he wasn’t having to be controlled.

  Oliver started Rosie with encouraging shouts of “Go it Dozy!” and was very disgruntled when she refused dead at the first jump. He longed for Rupert to be a hero brother and do well, but as usual it would be bossy old Netti who did the best of the Wheelers. “Oh go on, you stupid twit,” he muttered angrily, and at the second try she did.

  Rupert got going on the long gallop across the second field and Rosie jumped the water easily. She was suspicious of the logpile and made a large slow motion jump. After the tree trunk, Rupert slowed her up. “You’ve got to keep some breath for the ditch,” he told her. She jumped it well, but then Rupert was so busy shouting and waving to the other pony club members that he almost ran out of the brush.

  “Concentrate!” roared David after his departing figure. But he still managed to lose himself in the trees and had to circle before he could take the horizon fence.

  “That’s another refusal,” said Sarah who was keeping the scores.

  Lizzie started; she made certain that Rajah was alert and ready for a new jump. He jumped the first two easily and galloped on towards the water. When I’m over that I’ll start to enjoy myself, thought Lizzie.

  Rupert was having trouble at the gateway. He had forgotten to look the way he wanted to go, so Rosie had gone straight on and almost collapsed on her nose in the hedge across the lane, but Rupert sat tight and the pony recovered somehow.

  “We’re O.K., don’t worry,” Rupert shouted in reply to Mrs Rooke’s inquiries, and, sorting themselves out, they galloped away.

  Rajah had slowed to an obstinate refusal at the water. Lizzie, uncharacteristically severe, gave him a whack with her whip. “You’ve jumped it dozens of times, you’re just being stupid,” she told him crossly. At the second attempt he jumped it easily and thundered on, taking the logpile and tree trunk with no trouble at all.

  “Old Ra’s beginning to look like a cross-country horse,” observed James, as the pony cleared the ditch and went on with pricked ears and a wise expression towards the brush. “Except for Rosie, they’ve all looked good,” said Alice, who was sitting on the ground with Saffron cropping the turf beside her.

  “And she’s coming home like a veteran,” announced Hanif, as she appeared over the slip rails.

  “The trouble is that nearly all the good people have gone; the disasters are about to start,” said Lynne.

  “There are still Netti and Paul to go,” James pointed “They ought to go round clear.”

  “But now we have my sister, she’s bound to make a mess of it,” said Sarah as Lesley cantered along the valley. Stardust cleared the first two, but objected to jumping water on her own and slowed to a suspicious halt. Lesley didn’t start hitting and kicking: she let her have a look, gave her a pat and tried to sound confident as she said, “You’ll do it easily.” Then she took her away and got her going before she rode at it again. This time Stardust agreed to jump.

  “Well done, dear,” shrieked Mrs Roberts, as Lesley galloped on.

  “Here’s Lizzie coming home. She’s done very well,” said Tina.

  “Lesley’s being a bit slow over the downhill jumps, but she’s doing them all,” said Lynne. “Netti’s starting. It’s nearly time for us to go down.”

  Netti had complete confidence in Tristram: she knew that he would take her round; all she had to do was to sit tight and remember the course, he would do the rest. She loved jumping him and cross-country was her favourite she thought, as she galloped over the fields, clearing jump after jump.

  Paul was slower, but equally clear. He had to take the hill slowly because Banjo was clearly running out of breath, but he was very neat and quick over the angle jumps and in the gateway.

  “He wouldn’t be much use for racing, he jumps too big,” said David, when Banjo had arrived, puffing, at the Land Rover. “All these huge stag-like jumps he makes take it out of him and slow him up. He’s a Puissance horse by nature. He’d love to go on jumping one enormous fence all evening.”

  “Which of them would you choose for racing?” ask Hanif.

  “Well, yours would be all right for the big fences, and Saffron has the right ideas, but if l wanted a hurdler I’d take Rosie.” Rupert began to express amazement that anyone would want Rosie for anything, but then Lynne, who had refused twice at the water, stopped again at the ditch.

  “A short run!” roared David.

  All the pony club members began to make encouraging noises and Berry went over at her second try. She cantered boldly at the brush and then trotted carefully over the angle, horizon and downhill jumps. Sarah and Chess set off along the valley and Tina waited all alone at the start. Her teeth were chattering and her legs were shaking. She had never ridden round a course before. She’d never ridden in anything, not handy pony or even egg and spoon; she had never realised that you felt like this. It was awful.

  Sarah hadn’t approached the water with much confidence. She’d kicked for all she was worth and shouted, “Go on, Chess!” to hide her feelings, and for a brief second she thought he was going. But then he stopped, and she went on, very slowly, over his lowered head and into the water. She climbed out quickly and began to scream at Chess, telling him what a perfectly beastly and ghastly pony he was. “I hate you,” she shrieked, stamping her foot angrily, while Mrs Roberts and Mrs Blacker tried to remove her dripping anorak.

  “We’d better send down a lead,” said David, looking round. “You go, Lesley, he’ll follow his stable companion. Then, if she jumps it, let her go on alone.”

  Lesley didn’t like to argue, so she went reluctantly, knowing that Sarah wouldn’t be at all pleased to see her.

  “Poor Tina,” said Paul. “This’ll put her right off. But look, here’s Lynne. Come on Lynne, gallop.”

  “What do you want?” Sarah, whose anorak had been forcibly removed by Mrs Roberts, shouted at her sister.

  “David says I’m to give you a lead. He says Chess will follow Stardust.”

  The sisters glared at each other angrily. “Oh, all right,” said Sarah, remounting, “but I bet all that happens is that you refuse too.”

  Stardust didn’t refuse, she jumped in fine style, and Chess followed her. Mrs Robert’s cheer was echoed by watchers on the hill. Sarah went on alone.

  “Now Hobby, a clear round, please,” said Oliver, patting his pony’s neck. “Are you ready? On your marks.”

  Tina’s legs recovered before she reached the first fence and she forget her teeth. The slip rails loomed up, friendly and familiar, and the long canter to the water settled her and Hobbit down. She rode hard at the water, hoping to disguise a slight faint-heartedness, and Hobbit, with a pony’s cleverness, knew that she wasn’t happy about it, and jumped the wing.

  “Do I have to go back?” Tina shouted to Mrs Roberts.

  “No, dear, you go on. That’ll do,” Mrs Roberts shouted back, for she believed in a comfortable life.

  “It doesn’t count. She’ll be eliminated if she goes on,” objected Jennifer.

  “Oh goodness, it’s only for a bit of fun, and I expect Tina was a bit put off by Sarah’s splash. Well, that’s the one round then. They have done well. David must be pleased with them.”

/>   “No, Jennifer’s going last,” said Mrs Blacker. “Mrs Rooke says David won’t mind. Go on, darling, down to the start. We mustn’t keep everyone waiting.”

  Jennifer ignored Oliver, who told her she couldn’t start until Tina was halfway down the hill. She simply rode through his flags and started. Muttering angrily, Oliver took down his flags and started up the hill, intending to complain to David.

  Jennifer was riding down the valley at a slow canter, sitting in her saddle, and not looking in the least like a cross-country rider thought Hanif, who had watched her start. Tina had stopped at the ditch, mainly because Hobbit was out of breath. The Wheelers all made encouraging noises, but David said, “Don’t hurry him, let him get his second wind.”

  As soon as he had got his breath, Hobbit went on willingly and then shouts from the water drew everyone’s attention to Jennifer. Sea King was dithering on the brink, Jennifer was shouting, both mothers shooing.

  “I didn’t know she was going round,” said Lizzie as Sea King got over and turned up hill.

  “Nor did I,” said David in a cold, angry voice. “Well, it’s nothing to do with us, so we’ll go down and have all those who stopped at the water over again. Rupert, I think you should do the gateway jump properly.”

  The pony club members mounted. Jennifer seemed to be having trouble at the logpile. Oliver, puffing from his climb up the hill, stumped over to the Land Rover and complained, “That Jennifer Blacker wouldn’t listen to me. She started herself, though I told her that she had to wait until Tina was down from the trees.”

  “Some people have no manners.” David spoke quietly but his pale face was set in hard angry lines and his blue eyes flashed with annoyance. “But don’t worry, I’ll be having a word with Miss Blacker presently.”

  “I don’t think David’s very pleased at Jennifer turning up like this,” said Lizzie in a worried voice.

  “I’m sure he isn’t. He looks absolutely furious,” agreed Rupert.

  “Oh dear, I hope he doesn’t explode and spoil the last day, when it’s all been so lovely,” moaned Lizzie, who hated rows.

  “You can’t blame him. It is awful cheek just turning up and going round without asking.” Netti sounded indignant.

  Jennifer was crashing about in the trees and cursing Sea King. The two older Wheelers, Alice, Hanif and Lesley stayed to watch, Everyone else was making for the water. “Do you think we ought to help her?” asked Lizzie.

  Sea King appeared suddenly, making a huge leap over the horizon fence, pecking and then setting off downhill at canter.

  “Whoa,” yelled Jennifer, pulling him sideways, “Whoa.”

  “That looks dangerous.”

  “David gave a terrible roar when I tried going sideways,” said Alice, “He seemed to think that Saffy was about to cross his legs and fall.”

  Jennifer straightened up as she came to the downhill jump, but it was too late for Sea King to take off. He crashed through, scattering poles and drums, which rolled away down the hillside. Jennifer was round his neck, but she quickly regained her seat. She was going far too fast but she seemed to decide to take a chance on the gateway jump.

  “Circle!” shouted Hanif.

  “She probably thinks that pole is all there is,” Lesley. Lizzie shut her eyes as the pony flung himself at the jump. There was a crack and a thud and the sound of splintering wood as pony and rider disappeared from sight. Without a word the five of them cantered down the hill. As they came to the gateway they could see the pony scrambling to his feet, pulling back to get free from the entangling hedge. The baling string holding the second pole snapped. They slid carefully down into the lane.

  “Are you all right, Jennifer?”

  “No, of course I’m not. He fell on me and I’m all tangled up in this hedge.”

  Lizzie flung her reins to Rupert.

  Sea King had obviously been going too fast to stop. He had hit the second pole, catapulted across the lane and crashed into the hedge with its strengthener of post wire. Alice gave her reins to Hanif and ran to help Lizzie, who was clearing the chunks of broken thorn, splintered post and rusty wire, so that they could inspect Jennifer.

  “Do you think you’ve broken anything?” asked Lizzie.

  “How do I know? Where’s King?” Jennifer sat up suddenly. “Haven’t you got him? Well go and catch him, you fools.”

  “His bridle’s here,” said Alice, disentangling it from post and wire.

  “The Land Rover’s coming,” announced Lesley in relieved tones, “and the mothers are there with David.”

  “Better get the ponies out of the way,” said Lizzie. “We’re a bit redundant here. We’d better go after the pony,” said Hanif as Mrs Blacker and Mrs Rooke emerged from the front of the Land Rover, and Mrs Roberts from the back. David followed them slowly.

  With Alice carrying Sea King’s bridle, they set off at canter along the soft centre of the lane. Then they heard the thud of hoofs behind them and found Lesley cantering in pursuit.

  “David sent me after you,” she told them, when they slowed down and let her catch up. “He said you were too new to know the way or the Roberts’s telephone number or anything, and that I’d better come and help.”

  “Great,” said Hanif. “We’re simply following hoofprints.”

  ‘’And there’s been nowhere for him to turn off so far,” added Alice as they cantered on again.

  The track wound upwards, round the side of Coppice Hill, and as the ponies began to puff they all slowed to a trot. They reached the ridge where the woods ended and looked out across the green humped Downs, which stretched away for miles until they met the distant line of the sky.

  “I hope he doesn’t get out there. We’ll never catch him,” observed Alice. The chalk track widened, became grassy and they cantered on again. There were no hoofprints to follow any more, except on occasionally muddy sections of the track and then there were dozens, leading in all directions.

  They began to grow anxious.

  “He wouldn’t have come as far as this, would he?”

  “We must have missed him.”

  “Could he have got into the woods?”

  They came to a crossroads. Four white tracks met and then wheeled away over the green hills, into space and sky.

  “Shall we each take a track and ride a short way along it, looking for signs?” suggested Alice.

  “All right, for five minutes, and then turn back. We don’t want to lose each other, it’s pretty vast up here,” said Hanif.

  He and Alice took the tracks that led along the ridge in opposite directions. Lesley took the one that led straight ahead and down into a hollow. Soon, long before five minutes was up, she was shouting, “Harry! Alice!”

  They heard her and turning their ponies galloped back. They couldn’t take short cuts for the wide tracks were fenced. They met at the crossroads and trotted down the hard chalk of Lesley’s track. She was waiting for them.

  “Look, my eyes aren’t much good, but surely that’s him down there by the farm?” Their eyes followed the direction of her pointing finger and they both saw a weary-looking pony plodding along a beaten chalk track which led to farm buildings.

  “Oh poor Sea King, he’s looking for help and a stable,” said Alice.

  “I don’t think we’re going to have much trouble in catching him,” added Hanif as they set off at a brisk trot. They rode down into the hollow and then along the farm lane. When they drew close to the plodding bay pony they walked and called his name.

  “Sea King,” they called, “King.” He stopped and turned and whinnied. He made no difficulties when Alice dismounted and approached him with the bridle, in fact his sorrowful expression brightened a little.

  “Poor old boy, he is feeling sorry for himself,” said Hanif.

  “I’m not surprised, look at that.” Lesley pointed to a triangular gash in his chest. “It’s still bleeding.”

  “And look at his legs,” added Hanif in a shocked voice. “They’re cut t
o pieces.”

  “Blood everywhere,” agreed Alice, who, now that the bridle was on, had begun a thorough inspection; “But I can’t see anything that’s likely to prove fatal.”

  “And the blood’s not gushing out in torrents,” observed Hanif, who had crouched down to get a better look at the inside of Sea King’s legs. “The chest’s the worst wound.”

  “Yes, but I don’t think it’s deep. It’s a sort of horrid flap,” said Alice, taking a closer look. “Do you think we can walk him home?”

  “It’’ll take ages. What do you think, Lesley?” asked Hanif.

  “I think we should go on to the farm and telephone for a box—well, David’s is only a cattle truck, but the Roberts must be home by now and they could send it.”

  “That sounds sensible. Two of us had better telephone and one stay with King.”

  “One of the telephoners had better be Lesley, as she knows telephone numbers and where we are,” said Alice.

  “And the other had better be me, if you don’t mind,” said Hanif, “because if Saffron goes, Jupe will start his twirling and that won’t be much fun for Sea King.”

  So Alice found herself waiting in the lane, holding two ponies with quite different ideas. Sea King wanted to stand with drooping head, resting his legs in turn until he was rescued, while Saffron was hungry and insisted on grazing the sweet spring grass along the verges of the lane. In the end, Alice took off Saffron’s pelham, and attached one complete length of rein to his noseband, then, each time he ran out of grass, she persuaded the poor stiff invalid to walk a few steps nearer the farm. She occupied herself picking choice morsels of grass for King, because she knew that if she did nothing she would begin to think gloomy thoughts. The course was over, it had been lovely, but like all lovely things it had come to an end. Soon the holidays would end and Saffron would go back to Mr Crankshaw. That didn’t bear thinking about. She picked more and more grass for King.

  The farm seemed deserted. There was a house, but it was surrounded by piles of bricks and window frames. A concrete mixer stood idle. There were no curtains at the windows.

 

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