by Jenny Dale
As soon as she got home, Clare ran upstairs to change out of her uniform. Her heart was beating fast. Would Shadow turn up again today?
She hurried out through the back door and down to the bottom of the garden. “Shadow!” she called softly.
Nothing happened.
“Shadow!” Clare called again. She shut her eyes. Please come! she whispered. Please!
But when Clare opened her eyes there was still no sign of the pony. Her heart sank. She turned away and sighed sadly. Maybe Shadow wouldn’t ever come again.
Crack! Crack!
Clare turned back to look. And there was Shadow, coming through the trees.
Chapter Five
“Shadow!” Clare cried. She ran up and flung her arms around the pony’s neck. “You’ve come!”
“Of course!” Shadow whinnied. He nudged her. “Should we play hide and seek again?” With a toss of his head, he trotted off and hid behind a tree.
Clare laughed happily and soon they were playing as if Shadow hadn’t been away.
At last, Clare was out of breath and stopped. “Oh, Shadow!” she said. “Having you here is almost as good as having my own pony!”
Then an idea struck her. If Shadow was going to come and visit every day then she could pretend he was her own pony. She could get a brush for him and groom him and she could make a head collar for him. Of course, she wouldn’t be able to ride him, but looking after him would be almost as good.
“You’ll be my secret pony!” she said.
Shadow nuzzled her. “That sounds fun,” he snorted.
Clare remembered her news. “There’s a girl at school with a pony,” she said. “She’s invited me round to tea tomorrow. She’s called Matty.”
Shadow’s ears pricked up. But just as he was about to whicker something, Mrs Masters called Clare in for her tea.
“Bye, Shadow,” Clare whispered. She kissed him and ran happily up the garden. It really was just like having a pony of her own!
The next day at school, Matty kept looking across the table at Clare and grinning at her. Neither of them had said anything to Lisa and Faye about the invitation to tea. Clare was glad they didn’t know. She had a feeling that they wouldn’t be pleased.
After school Matty came running up to Clare. “Hi!” she said breathlessly. “Are you ready?”
Clare nodded. She had her school bag and a bag with jeans and an old sweatshirt in it.
They hurried outside. Matty’s mum was waiting by the gates. She smiled at Clare. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Mrs Davies. So you’re coming for tea with us – and to meet Socks.”
Clare smiled back at Mrs Davies, then turned to Matty. “Socks – is that your pony’s name?” she asked.
Matty nodded. As they walked along, she pointed to a gravel track that led up the hill. “I keep him in a field up there,” she said. “But when it gets colder we’ll have to find stables for him to live in.”
“Will he like that?” Clare asked.
“I think so,” Matty said. “He’ll like having other ponies around.”
“He’s on his own at the moment, you see,” Mrs Davies explained. “And we think he must get a bit bored.”
Clare looked at the track that led to Socks’s field. “Can we go and see him right now?” she asked eagerly.
Mrs Davies shook her head, smiling. “You’ve got to go to school tomorrow in those clothes,” she said. “You’d better get changed first. There’ll be plenty of time after tea.”
As soon as they got to the Davieses’ house, Matty ran up the stairs. “Come on, let’s get changed.”
Clare followed her. “Wow!” she said, looking round Matty’s bedroom. The walls were covered with pony posters.
“I’ve always loved ponies,” Matty said.
Clare frowned. “So why don’t you ever talk about them at school?”
Matty bit her lip. “Because of Lisa and Faye.” She sighed. “I only came to the school last term. Lisa and Faye made friends with me but they said they didn’t want to talk about horses. I thought it was better being friends with them than being on my own.”
Clare sat down on Matty’s bed. “They’re a bit bossy.”
“Very bossy,” Matty agreed. She looked shyly at Clare. “But we could be friends.”
Clare grinned. “We could!”
They started to get changed.
“You’re so lucky having your own pony,” Clare said.
“I’d wanted one for ages,” Matty said, pulling on some jodhpurs. She looked at Clare. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
Clare nodded.
“Well, I used to want one so much that I used to pretend I had a pony – a secret pony.” Matty’s cheeks went a bit red. “Do you think that’s silly?”
Clare’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “No!” she cried. She looked at Matty and decided to share her own secret. “As a matter of fact, I’ve got a secret pony!” she said. “But it’s not a made-up one. He’s a real pony who comes into my garden.”
“A real secret pony?” said Matty.
“Yes!” Clare said. “He’s come to play with me three times now.”
“What’s he like?” Matty asked, amazed.
“He’s all black, except for his four white socks,” Clare told her. “He’s gorgeous. He plays hide and seek with me and . . .” Clare saw Matty start to frown. “What’s the matter?”
Matty stood up quickly. “That’s Socks!” she cried angrily.
Clare was confused. “What do you mean?” she said.
“There’s only one black pony with four white socks around here,” Matty said. “And that’s my Socks! What have you been doing with him?”
“Nothing!” Clare cried, jumping to her feet. “I’m not talking about your Socks! I’m talking about my Shadow!”
The bedroom door opened. Mrs Davies looked in. “Whatever’s going on here?”
Matty turned to her mum. “Clare says that she’s got a secret pony just like Socks – but she can’t have!”
“I’m not making it up!” Clare cried. “And my pony isn’t Socks. He’s Shadow!”
“He’s not. He’s Socks!”
Mrs Davies held up her hands. “Girls!” Matty and Clare looked at her. She seemed very confused. “I don’t think I quite understand. But maybe it would help to go and see Socks straight away. Tea’s not ready yet anyway.”
Clare and Matty nodded. They pulled on the rest of their clothes and went downstairs.
“Don’t be long,” Mrs Davies said. She smiled. “Socks will be surprised to see you this early, Matty.”
Matty didn’t smile. She marched off down the lane.
Clare hurried along beside her. She wished she’d never told Matty about Shadow. She should have just kept quiet.
Matty turned up a track and marched up to a gate that led into a field. “Now, try and tell me that you haven’t been making up stories about Socks,” she said. She pointed into the field. “Look!”
Clare stared around the field. It was empty. She looked at Matty.
Then Matty saw that the field was empty too. “Socks!” she gasped. “Oh, no! He’s gone!”
Chapter Six
Matty opened the gate and ran into the field. “Socks!” she called. “Socks!”
But no pony came. “He’s escaped!” Matty said, turning to Clare, her face scared. “What if he’s been run over! Suppose he’s been stolen!”
Clare forgot about their argument. “Quick! Let’s check the fences. There might be a gap where he could have got out!”
They ran round the field, looking for holes in the fence. As they reached the far end, Clare noticed a row of conifers growing nearby. They looked very like the ones growing at the bottom of her garden.
She stopped, and looked at the field again. That’s it! she thought. She’d seen this field before, but from a very different angle . . .
“What are you waiting for?” Matty cried.
“It’s OK!” Clare called. “I think I know where
he is.”
“What do you mean?” Matty said.
Clare didn’t answer. She ran towards the conifers and looked along the fence in front of them. Sure enough, there was a big gap – just the right size for a pony. “This way!” she shouted.
Matty saw what she was looking at. Together they went through the gap.
“But where are we going?” asked Matty.
“My house,” Clare said.
“Your house!” Matty echoed.
“My house is this side of the fence!” Clare pushed her way through the familiar yellow-green fronds of the conifers. “And I think I know just where Socks will be.”
Matty followed her. “But . . . but . . .”
As they came out through the trees, Clare stopped. Just as she had thought, there was the pony, standing underneath one of the apple trees, munching on fallen apples.
“Socks!” Matty gasped.
“Or Shadow,” Clare said.
“Whichever you like!” whinnied the black pony. He trotted over and nuzzled them. “Hello!”
Clare started to laugh.
It only took a moment before Matty joined in. “I wondered why he had been getting so fat,” she said, through her laughter. “He must have been coming here every day to eat your apples.”
“And I couldn’t work out where he kept disappearing to!” said Clare. “He must have come here while you were having your tea and squeezed back through the fence when it was time for you to come and ride him.”
“Oh, Socks!” Matty said, hugging him. “You are a naughty pony.”
Clare looked at Shadow nuzzling Matty and suddenly felt sad. She guessed this would mean that Shadow wouldn’t be her secret pony any more.
Matty saw Clare’s face. “Now we’re friends you can come and help me look after him. Maybe you can ride him sometimes too,” she said.
Clare stared at her in astonishment. “You mean it?”
“Of course!” Matty said. “It will be loads more fun if there are two of us.”
“So we’re still friends?” Clare said rather uncertainly.
Matty grinned. “Of course. After all, we were both right in a way. You were talking about Socks all the time – you just didn’t realise it! So . . . friends?”
Clare grinned back. “Best friends!”
Just then, the back door opened. “Clare!” Mrs Masters came hurrying out, looking as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. “What’s going on?” she asked, looking at Matty and Clare and the pony.
Clare and Matty started to explain. They both talked at once, but soon Mrs Masters began to understand. “So there was a real pony after all!” she said.
Clare nodded. “He just kept disappearing to get back to see Matty.”
Matty laughed. “But now Clare is going to come and help me look after him. He’ll like that, won’t you, Socks?”
Socks nuzzled at Clare’s hair. “Sure will!”
Clare stroked him. She couldn’t believe that she was going to be able to help look after him every day. It was like a dream come true.
“You’ll have to get used to calling him Socks though,” Matty said, smiling.
Clare nodded. Yes, she would have to get used to the new name. She kissed Socks on the nose. But he would always be Shadow to her.
Willow
the Wild Pony
Special thanks to Linda Chapman
Chapter One
The autumn breeze lifted Willow’s thick mane as she trotted eagerly down the track beyond her paddock. She pricked up her dark brown ears and pulled at her reins. “This is fun!” she whinnied.
Hannah Grey, Willow’s owner, leaned down in the saddle and patted Willow’s shoulder happily. This was the first time that she and Willow had been allowed out on their own. Until now, her mum had always come along too.
“Now don’t go too fast,” Mrs Grey had warned Hannah as she put Willow’s saddle on that afternoon. “No quicker than a trot, this first time.”
Hannah remembered what her mum had said and eased back on the reins to slow Willow down.
But Willow didn’t want to slow down. The moors stretched out in front of them. She wanted to canter and gallop over them. “Come on, Hannah!” she snorted, tossing her head. “Let’s go over there – and let’s go faster!”
Hannah longed to be able to let Willow gallop but she knew that she shouldn’t. “Steady now, girl,” she said, tightening the reins.
Willow reluctantly obeyed and slowed to a walk.
Hannah saw that they were reaching the end of the track and pulled lightly on the reins. “We’ll be able to go faster and further one day,” she told her pony. “But we’d better turn back now. We’ve gone far enough for today.”
But Willow wasn’t listening to Hannah. She tossed her head up. She was sure she could hear hoof-beats – lots of them. What was happening?
“Oh look, Willow!” cried Hannah in delight, as she saw a herd of wild ponies come galloping over the nearest hilltop.
Willow snorted in astonishment. She had never seen wild ponies before.
The ponies came towards them in a rush of brown and black and grey, manes and tails flying. In the middle of the slope they slowed and stopped.
The leader of the herd, a handsome brown stallion, leaped on to a rocky mound. He looked down the hillside. Then he threw his head high and gave a wild, powerful whinny that echoed through the air.
Wow! Willow thought. She lifted her head and whinnied back.
The stallion glanced in her direction and then, with a wild toss of his head, jumped down from the rock and set off again.
The other ponies followed. They galloped over the hillside and out of sight.
“Wait for me!” Willow whinnied, without thinking. She leaped forward to follow them.
She had only gone three paces when she felt Hannah pulling on the metal bit in her mouth.
“No, Willow!” Hannah said.
At the pressure of the bit Willow stopped.
“You can’t go with them,” Hannah told her. “You live with me. You’re a tame pony.”
“But I don’t want to be tame!” Willow neighed. She stared at the hillside where the wild ponies had been. She wanted to be able to gallop like them. She wanted to buck and prance. But Hannah didn’t seem to understand.
“Come on,” Hannah said, patting her. “Let’s go home.”
Willow walked reluctantly back along the track to her paddock. Every now and then, she looked over her shoulder, hoping to catch another glimpse of the ponies. But they had gone.
She remembered the way the stallion’s whinny had rung out across the moor. Just the thought of it made her tremble again. It was as if he had been calling to her. As if he had been saying, Come with us! Be wild! Be free!
When they got back home, Hannah led Willow into her stable. There were two stables at Devon Farm, one for Willow and one for Mrs Grey’s big chestnut horse, Samson.
As Hannah went to fetch Willow’s supper, Willow lay down in the thick, fresh bed of straw and rolled. It felt good, and Willow pushed her thoughts of wild ponies to the back of her mind.
Getting to her feet she started to pull mouthfuls of sweet-smelling hay from her hay net.
Hannah came back with a bucket of pony nuts and bran. “Here we are,” she said, emptying the bucket into Willow’s manger.
“Yum!” Willow snorted, gobbling up a mouthful of food.
While Willow ate, Hannah’s fingers played in the pony’s shaggy black mane. Willow had been just six months old when she’d come to live at Devon Farm – a little bay foal with dark, cheeky eyes, long legs and a short fluffy tail. Hannah had fallen in love with Willow straight away, and had loved her ever since.
Willow sighed happily. This was her favourite time of day. She forgot about the moors and the wild ponies that she had seen. This was her idea of happiness – being in her cosy stable with Hannah hugging her. This was where she wanted to be. Just her and Hannah.
Willow finished the last mouthful
of food, then turned and nuzzled Hannah on the nose. “That’s better!” she snorted.
But a little while later, when Hannah had gone into the farmhouse for her tea, Willow found herself thinking again about the wild ponies and wondering what they would be doing now. Galloping perhaps? Drinking from fresh streams? Grazing on sweet grass? Willow walked to her stable door and stared out beyond her paddock at the distant moors.
Night came, but still Willow stood there, gazing out.
Chapter Two
The next morning, Hannah came down to feed Willow. It was a school day, and after Willow had finished her breakfast, Hannah led her out to the paddock. “I’ll come and see you as soon as I get back from school,” she promised, taking Willow’s head collar off.
Willow didn’t like Hannah going to school. It had been much more fun in the summer holidays when Hannah had been able to stay with her all day. “Don’t go, Hannah!” she whickered, nudging her.
But Hannah went out through the gate. She gave Willow a last pat and then turned and hurried towards the house.
Willow watched Hannah go. A few minutes later, she heard the house door slam and Mrs Grey’s car start up. With a sigh, Willow put her head down and started to graze.
“Yuck!” she snorted. The grass in her paddock had been long and delicious in the spring. But now it was patchy and short.
Willow tried another bit but it was just as tasteless. She thought about the miles and miles of moorland that stretched out behind the farm and her tummy rumbled. How wonderful it would be to graze on that soft, springy grass.
She thought about the wild ponies. They were so lucky! They could eat wherever they liked and they had each other for company Willow looked around the field. Samson was still in his stable. He sometimes came out with her but even when he did, he wasn’t much fun.