Phantom: One Last Chance

by Belinda Rapley

  “I’ve lost him!” Charlie whispered urgently, her eyes taking a while to adjust.

  “Quick, let’s go,” Mia said as Rosie grabbed her socks and pulled them on. They hurriedly crept down the stairs, trying not to trip in the dark. They grabbed Mr Honeycott’s huge torch from its position by the front door, scraped the key in the lock and tumbled out into the freezing air. Scout came to the front of his stable, blinking sleepily as the girls sprinted across the yard and through the open gate, the beam from the torch bobbing in front of them.

  Rosie swept the path ahead with the light, then she suddenly caught sight of a shadowy movement by the edge of the trees and dropped the torch in fright. Charlie called Pirate’s name in a wobbly voice, as loud as she dared, and the next second they heard trotting hooves. The small bay pony emerged out of the dark and pulled up in front of them. Charlie grabbed his headcollar. The lead rein had been moved and was clipped onto the side again. She noticed that his ears were pricked and his eyes were shining; he looked happy. Rosie picked up the torch and shone it into the entrance of the woods.

  “I can’t see anything,” Mia shivered. “Do you think we should go in…?”

  “No way!” Rosie squeaked, grabbing Alice’s arm.

  “I’m with Rosie. I seriously think we should get back – now!” Alice whispered, her legs like jelly as they stood in the eerie, dark silence of the chill night air.

  Without another word they turned and walked back to the yard, getting faster and faster until they were practically running. As Charlie trotted Pirate into his stable she saw that his top rug had been taken off and bundled in a corner, leaving him with just his thinner, fleecy under-rug.

  Once Pirate was settled the Pony Detectives walked quickly across the yard back to the house, rushing through the door and turning the key with shaking fingers. They flew upstairs as quietly as possible, pulled off their outdoor clothes and collapsed onto their beds, all except for Charlie, who snuggled down into her nest on the window seat.

  “So did you see anyone riding Pirate?” Rosie whispered loudly, her heart still thumping.

  “It was too dark to see much,” Mia whispered back, her voice shaking. “But I… I couldn’t be sure about seeing anyone up there.”

  “No footprints, no rider…” Rosie squeaked, flicking on the torch and holding it under her chin as she pulled a ghoulish face right next to Alice.

  “Stop it, Rosie!” Alice squealed, nearly tumbling off the side of her blow-up bed. As Rosie collapsed into nervous giggles, Mia muttered about them needing to take it seriously. The door creaked open and Mia leaped onto Rosie’s bed, terrified. Rosie jumped too, then snorted with silent laughter as Pumpkin padded into the bedroom.

  He joined Charlie in the window seat, purring loudly. He rubbed his head against her chin as she picked up the diary and put one arm around him, partly to keep warm, and partly because he made her feel less spooked. As her heart continued to pound, she decided to finish the diary, too filled with nervous excitement and questions to sleep. She could hear the others’ whispered conversations start to fade, interrupted by yawns. Once the room had fallen silent she switched on her torch. She flicked through the earlier entries, then turned to the last pages and began to read.

  Fable has turned a corner! Today, for the first time ever, she whinnied to me as I stepped out of my back door and walked to her paddock! Neve was so excited too, and before I could stop her, she wriggled under the fence to see Fable. I froze, but Fable stayed quiet, just dipping her muzzle and blowing gently on Neve’s head, rustling her hair. Neve was over the moon, she hasn’t stopped talking about it since. She wanted to mark the occasion so we went for a walk to Whispering Bridge as a celebration, all three of us, so Neve could make a wish. And for the first time, Fable walked beside me and Neve, without pulling away or nipping. She sniffed the bushes and the ground as we went – she even stepped into the water to cool her legs. Her ears were pricked, she looked happy. I held Neve’s hand as she climbed onto the rocks and dropped her penny in the stream, and heard her whispered wish – that Fable would always be as happy as she looked today. It was perfect.

  I really think this is the end of one chapter and the start of another in Fable’s life. I’m going to make sure that this and every chapter from now on is the happiest she could wish for… I can’t wait for tomorrow and all that it will bring!

  Charlie stared at the entry, her heart aching – she knew that just hours later, Fable would be dead, and Caitlin and Neve’s world would be shattered. She turned the page, but there were no more entries. Charlie sighed, wondering if what came next had been just too painful to write about. Then she noticed ruffles of jagged paper running down the inside of the diary. She looked closer, then realised that the last few pages had been torn out.

  Charlie frowned and leaned back against the wall, whispering to Pumpkin that she would text Fran Hope in the morning to thank her and ask if she knew where the last pages were. Charlie quietly slid down from the window seat, stepped over a sleeping Alice and placed the diary on Rosie’s bedside table. Then she climbed back up and wrapped herself in sleeping bag and duvet. Exhausted, her tired eyes closed and she drifted into a restless sleep just as fat, heavy snowflakes began to dance beyond the window.

  CHARLIE woke stiffly, cramped in the window seat. She stretched and moved the curtain back to peep out. A deep, bright white carpet of snow had settled, covering everything she could see. The yellowy grey clouds in the sky sat low, thick flurries of snowflakes falling solidly. She sat up, suddenly remembering what had happened the night before, and peered at Pirate’s stable. With a burst of relief she realised that his stable door was still closed. Pumpkin blinked up at her and Charlie smiled, reaching for her mobile.

  “Thanks for reminding me,” she said quietly as she texted Fran Hope to ask about the diary.

  When the text had sent, Charlie slid out from under her duvet and the cosily warm sleeping bag, shivering at once as she hastily pulled on her thick jumper and the jeans by her side.

  “Wake up!” she said, nudging Alice’s bed as she tugged on her fleecy socks. Alice stirred and sat up, yawning.

  “What’s the rush?” she asked in a croaky voice.

  “Snow!” Charlie whispered back. “And I want to see if there are any clues from last night.”

  Mia sat up, looking as immaculate and neat as when she went to bed the night before. Charlie’s hair was poking out in every direction, Alice had forgotten to take out her hairband and now half of her mousey brown ponytail was in it and half was out. Rosie, as Alice shook her, sat up with her blonde hair sticking up like a haystack.

  “If you’re going clue-hunting,” Mia said, picking up her notebook, “we’re coming too. Come on, Rosie.”

  Rosie groaned loudly, slinking back under her duvet cover until Charlie told her that it had snowed. Hearing that, Rosie rolled out of bed, sending Beanie sliding off the duvet with a low gruffle. Then she tripped over Alice’s bed in her attempt to get to the window, still half asleep.

  “Er, aren’t any clues going to be completely buried in snow by now?” she asked, rubbing her eyes and squinting at the brightness outside.

  “You’ve got a point,” Mia agreed, starting to smile. “But we’d better look anyway, just in case.”

  The others got dressed quickly, pulling on as many layers as they could find to keep out the cold, then they all flew downstairs, in a rush to feed the ponies. They flung open the back door and ran outside, twirling in the falling flakes. Rosie stuck out her tongue to catch some as she and the girls fluffed into the snow. It already came up to their ankles, and they sprayed it around as they slipped and slid their way over the gate. There were already large footprints in the snow from where Mr Honeycott and Rosie’s older brother, Will, had set off to check the sheep in the fields near the lane and scatter some extra hay so they had enough to eat. In the yard, all the ponies except Phantom were standing at the front of their stables whickering a hungry greeting. Charlie leaned
over Phantom’s door.

  “Morning,” she said quietly, smiling at him. The black horse stood at the back of his stable as usual, but this time the atmosphere inside wasn’t simmering with fear and distrust. Instead, a quiet stillness hung in the air, with a very contented and cosy-looking Hettie, standing knee-deep in straw, keeping the black horse company.

  The girls had fed the ponies and were about to disappear down to the woods, when Mrs Honeycott called them back inside to have some orange juice and porridge drizzled with honey before they went any further. They ate at breakneck speed, blowing loudly on each spoonful before shovelling and slurping it down, until they’d finished. Then they raced to the entrance of the woods.

  “Too much snow,” Rosie declared, as Alice started to move it about, using her foot as a makeshift shovel.

  At that second Charlie’s phone beeped. She pulled it out of her pocket and read the text.

  “It’s from Fran Hope,” she said, suddenly feeling an icy finger run down her spine.

  “What does it say?” Mia asked, seeing Charlie go pale.

  “I finished the diary last night and there were some pages missing at the back,” Charlie explained, “so I texted first thing this morning to thank Fran for bringing it round and to ask if she knew where they were.”

  “And?” Rosie and Alice asked together, impatient.

  “She says that she’d forgotten all about the diary,” Charlie shivered. “In fact, she’d forgotten to even look for it. Which means that if she didn’t find Fable’s diary, she couldn’t have been the one who dropped it round…”

  Just then, Rosie’s mobile rang, and the four Pony Detectives leaped out of their skins, their hearts thudding. Rosie checked the flashing screen and frowned as she answered it.

  “Dad?” she said, looking at the others with widening eyes as she listened in silence for a moment. “No, we haven’t seen her… she’s never been to the yard… Okay, we’ll have a think.”

  “What’s up?” Mia asked, seeing from Rosie’s expression that something serious had happened.

  “It’s Neve,” Rosie explained quickly. “Her grandparents just bumped into Dad and Will in the village. Apparently they had a row with Neve last night after they told her that she’d definitely be staying in England. They know Neve’s been really unhappy, so they told her that they’d arranged to move into the annexe at Hope Farm, where she used to live with her mum. They wanted to move somewhere smaller anyway, because Mr McCuthers has retired, and they thought that moving back to her old house would make Neve happy. Only, it seems to have made things worse. She said she’d never go there and stormed off to bed. They left her to it, but when they checked this morning her room was empty and she’d taken a bag full of clothes and stuff! It sounds like she’s run away!”

  The girls gasped.

  “Where would she have headed?” Mia asked.

  “That’s what Dad said Mr and Mrs McCuthers have been trying to figure out,” Rosie said. “Dad said he’d ask us if we might know.”

  The girls stood in the heavily falling snow, silent for a moment.

  “The only place we’ve seen her is the woods,” Charlie said, biting her lip and concentrating hard. She looked up and scoured the trees, but with the snow still coming down it was hard to see far through them.

  “She doesn’t really know anywhere else, does she?” Mia said, racking her brains.

  Suddenly Alice gasped.

  “But she does though, doesn’t she?” she said.

  “She knows Whispering Bridge!”

  “Of course!” Mia exclaimed. “She went there with her mum and Fable! And I told her how to find it again, too! It might be worth going there to check.”

  The Pony Detectives all looked at each other, panicking as they pictured the rushing, freezing water, the tumbledown bridge and the slippery rocks on the banks, which would now be hidden by the snow.

  “I’d better tell Dad,” Rosie said grimly. “But the trouble is the only tracks leading to it are way too narrow and the trees are too dense to drive any kind of Jeep down. Worse still, it’ll take ages for anyone to follow her on foot – she’s had a serious head start!”

  The girls stood for a moment, then Charlie took a deep breath. “There is another option,” she said, turning back to the yard and racing towards the back gate.

  The others jogged after her and got there just as Charlie emerged from the tack room, Phantom’s tack trailing from her arm as she yanked on her riding hat.

  “No way, Charlie!” Rosie squeaked. “Are you mad?”

  “You’re banned from riding Phantom, remember?” Mia said desperately, her voice shaking. Charlie stopped by Phantom’s box and turned round.

  “I know, and Mum will probably kill me for doing this, if Phantom doesn’t first,” Charlie explained, feeling the butterflies going wild inside her. “But he’s the fastest horse here by miles, and if I take the short cut I might get there in time to head Neve off. Phantom’s the best chance she has, if that’s where she’s gone.”

  Charlie slid into Phantom’s stable, her shaking hands gripping the tack.

  The black horse raised his head away from her but she took the headcollar as firmly as she could, knowing that every second might count. She looked at Phantom, the awesome, powerful black horse in front of her, and tried to picture the fearful, lost little foal inside, so that she could get her own fear under control. If she was going to get back on top of him after her last fall, she knew that it would take every ounce of her courage. And she’d need the same from Phantom in return. Phantom seemed to sense the urgency, and he stood stock still, his ears half back as Charlie fumbled with the buckles and keepers, her heart racing. She fastened her hat, pushing it hard onto her head.

  As she led Phantom out into the swirling snow he towered above her, snorting as he high-stepped into the yard. Rosie shut his stable door before Hettie could escape, and Mia legged Charlie up. Charlie was so tense and rigid that she almost tipped right over the other side of the saddle.

  Suddenly Alice shot off to the tack room, slipping on the snow.

  “I’m going to check the long route,” she said, coming out holding her tack, “just in case Neve is still following the brook. Have you got your mobile?”

  Charlie nodded and tightened the girth as Phantom skittered beneath her.

  “Me and Rosie had better stay, in case Neve doesn’t head for the bridge and turns up here instead,” Mia said as she nervously held the black horse’s reins. She looked up, her face etched with worry. “Take it steady, Charlie, and be careful!”

  Mia let go of the reins and Charlie turned Phantom, her chest tight and her breath shallow. Even in the few days since she’d stopped riding him, she’d forgotten how high up she was and how light Phantom was on his hooves. He tossed his head at the snow and snorted, fretful and anxious. Charlie glanced over at Pirate’s familiar little face, looking at her from over the stable door, and wished more than ever that she was setting out on her steadfast, totally trustworthy friend.

  For a second Charlie wondered if she should abandon her mission now, while she still could. Then she thought of Neve, feeling miles from home, desolate after losing everything – her mum, her home, her friends and the ponies at the rescue yard in Ireland. She could be making her way to Whispering Bridge at that very moment, and if she tried to step onto the stones to make a wish… Without thinking, Charlie put her legs to Phantom’s side. The black horse flattened his ears and the next second he half-reared, kicking out a front hoof. Charlie leaned into him, her eyes almost shut, then Phantom plunged forward and they flew out of the yard in a swirl of snow and thundering hooves.

  “STEADY, Phantom,” Charlie whispered, her voice tense as they skidded out of the yard and trotted down the path between the two paddocks. She could barely see as the snow blustered into her eyes. Phantom struggled to find his footing over the rutted, frozen ground, tripping twice in quick succession and almost unseating Charlie. She stood up in her stirrups and gra
bbed a handful of Phantom’s silky black mane.

  As soon as he was on the woodland path, he surged forward like a rocket. Charlie tightened her grip on his mane as his stride got faster and faster. She narrowed her eyes, blinking away the snow as the speed took her breath from her. Feeling his huge stride powering beneath her as they careered along the bridleway, she knew that it was Phantom who was in charge, barely aware of her presence on his back.

  Up ahead was a fork in the path – the right one would take her on the short cut to Whispering Bridge, the left one on the long route. She pressed her left leg and touched the right rein to turn Phantom towards the short cut. At once he flung up his head, his mane in Charlie’s face, plunging ahead without turning and losing his rhythm. Great white plumes of breath fired from his flaring nostrils as they flew faster along the path, heading for the trees dead ahead in the centre of the fork.

  Charlie panicked, unable to react. “Turn, Phantom, turn!” Charlie cried. She felt totally powerless, almost paralysed by fear and frustration, and wondering why she’d thought for even a second that she could control a horse like Phantom. Hot tears stung her frozen cheeks, but as she saw the trees racing towards her she realised that she couldn’t give up: she had to get to the bridge. She sat down in the saddle and made one last desperate attempt to turn Phantom. She gave him a sharp, determined kick with her left leg. Suddenly, Phantom’s ears flickered back and at the last second he skidded to the right, a hind hoof nearly slipping out behind him. Charlie toppled to the left, saw the ground get suddenly closer, then hauled herself back into the saddle. Somehow, she was still on board and now they were flashing through the woods, Charlie wiping her eyes with the back of her glove to see, and trying to slow Phantom and steer him round the twisting path. The first few times he ignored her, fighting for his head and only just making the bend in time. But after a few corners his ears started to flicker, and she felt him sink back slightly into his haunches to steady himself for each one.