by Stacy Gregg
“Hey quit it!” Issie smiled at her. And then her smile dissolved and she was crying, big hot angry tears as she slipped her arm under the pony’s neck and slipped the halter up over her nose.
“The thing is, girl,” Issie continued, “you have to go with Francoise and I can’t come with you. You’re going to be her horse now. You don’t belong to me—not any more.”
The tears were streaming down Issie’s cheeks now and she had given up trying to make them stop. Instead, she buried her face deep into the mare’s flaxen mane. She breathed in, trying to inhale deeply on her sweet horsy smell, but her nose was so runny from crying she couldn’t smell anything. Her hands were clasped tightly around Blaze’s neck now as if she never wanted to let go—which she didn’t. She could feel the sleek smoothness of Blaze’s glossy chestnut coat, and the silky strands of her mane which were tangled through her fingers.
If I just hold on a bit longer, maybe when I look up again they will all be gone and this will all have been a bad dream, Issie wished. She stayed there, with her head buried in Blaze’s mane for what seemed like an eternity. But when she looked up again, wiping yet more tears from her red eyes, she could see that the world had not changed. Francoise, Avery and her mother were still waiting for her by the clubroom gates. The ramp to Francoise’s horse truck had now been lowered ready to load Blaze.
Issie sniffed and took a deep breath. She wiped her face roughly on her T-shirt. She had made a vow to herself that they would not see her crying. “Come on, Blaze, time to go,” she murmured, and she led the chestnut mare up to the waiting horse truck.
Issie watched as Francoise prepared Blaze for her journey, fastening on the padded floating boots and strapping on her dust cover, before putting a hay net inside the truck for the trip. As she worked, she spoke to Blaze gently in French and the mare seemed responsive and calm in her hands.
Finally, Francoise called out an order to her assistant, a young woman who was clearly one of the riders from the school, and the woman stood on the far side of the ramp as Francoise walked Blaze up and into the truck. Ropes were secured and partitions were bolted into place, and then the girl lifted up the ramp and bolted it shut. Blaze was now locked inside the truck ready to go.
Issie looked pleadingly at her mum and Tom Avery. They had been standing quietly watching as Francoise worked. Surely one of them would say something, do something to stop this? Avery walked over to Francoise and spoke to her. Issie couldn’t hear what they were saying, but in the end Avery nodded and walked back to where he had been standing, next to her mother under the magnolia trees.
Francoise beckoned Isadora over to her. “We will be here for one more week before we pack up and travel again,” Francoise said. “If you want to come and see Blaze once more before we go you would be most welcome. Just give me a call. Until then, au revoir.”
And with that, Francoise turned and pulled herself up into the cab of the truck. There was a deep rumble as the engine revved into life, and then Francoise waved to Issie out the window as her assistant drove through the gates and down the gravel driveway that led to the main road.
Dust flew up from the tyres on the gravel. By the time it had cleared, the truck was gone. And so was Blaze. And at that moment, Issie forgot her vow and burst into tears.
Chapter 11
Issie knew that Blaze was really gone, but when she arrived later that day at the pony club she couldn’t help scanning the horizon as if she somehow still expected to see her horse standing there. It was force of habit, she surmised grimly. In the far paddock she could make out the shapes of Toby and Coco grazing happily, but they were alone. Blaze was nowhere to be seen. Issie felt her heart sink all over again when she realised the truth: that Blaze would never be here with them again.
For that matter, Issie would probably never be here again either. She had come to the pony club this afternoon one last time to pick up all of Blaze’s gear which was still in the tack room.
“Would you like me to help?” her mum had asked as they pulled the car up inside the pony-club gates.
“No, Mum, I’d rather do this by myself,” Issie said. She left her mother in the car and walked across the paddock to the clubroom.
Issie opened the tack-room door and blinked as her eyes adjusted to the gloom inside. In front of her and to the left were the feed bins and the stacks of rugs and muddy covers. To the right hung the bridles and saddles, suspended up on the wall on rows of saddle racks, and among these were Issie’s two saddles. There was one made from smooth black leather—a Bates Maestro, which was her dressage saddle. Next to it sat her jumping saddle, which was made out of honey-brown leather and had a flat seat and a well-worn look about it. Issie called them “her saddles” but in fact both of them actually belonged to Tom Avery. Issie still remembered the day he had given them to her when she first rode Blaze bareback to pony club. Now, she guessed, she had no reason to keep them any longer. She would have to give them back.
“I hope you’re not thinking of returning those to me,” a voice behind her said. “Because my tack room at the farm is full enough as it is.”
Startled, Issie spun around to see Tom Avery standing there smiling at her. “Tom! What are you doing here?” Issie said.
Avery looked at his watch. “Team training in half an hour,” he said. “I thought I’d better arrive early and get set up before the rabble arrive.”
Issie nodded. She had forgotten all about team training. Well, she wouldn’t be training any more, that was for sure.
“I was just sorting out Blaze’s gear,” Issie explained. “Mum and I can drop your saddles back to Winterflood Farm on the way home…”
Tom shook his head. “Isadora, I meant what I just said. I want you to hang on to those saddles for a while longer.”
“But, Tom—” Issie began before Avery cut her off.
“You never know, you may still need them,” he said firmly, making it clear that the matter was closed. Then he cast his eyes around the room. “Aha—the bending poles—who put them away over there?” He reached across behind the horse covers to pull out the plastic poles. “Why don’t you stay and help me train the squad?” Avery smiled at Issie. “I can drop you home afterwards.”
“OK,” Issie smiled back, “I’ll just tell Mum.”
Issie was busily pushing the bases of the bending poles into the ground in a nice, neat row when Stella and Kate arrived at the paddock. The girls hadn’t seen each other since Issie had run out of the clubroom in tears, and Issie didn’t know what to say. So much had happened in just the last few days that it seemed like it was a lifetime ago that they had argued. Issie hadn’t spoken to Stella or Kate since then. After Blaze was taken away she had been too depressed to go to school that day. But now she gave her friends a shy wave and Stella smiled and ran over to her, looking puzzled.
“Where’s Blaze?” Stella asked. And Issie, relieved to be talking to her best friend again, told Stella the whole story. Then she had to take a deep breath and tell it all over again to Kate, who had come over too when she realised that something was going on.
“But, Issie!” Kate was shocked. “Francoise can’t do that. Can she? Blaze is your horse!”
Issie shook her head sadly. “No. She never was. Avery always said that I was only her guardian. She belonged to the ILPH—and I guess she really belonged the whole time to El Caballo Danza Magnifico. It’s not Francoise’s fault. I mean, Blaze was stolen from her in the first place.”
“Issie! There you go again standing up for Francoise. I can’t believe it, after all she has done!” Stella was furious.
“No, Stella! Don’t you understand? This proves that Francoise couldn’t have done it!” Issie said. “That night when I got knocked down in the tack room Francoise was only there to get the hairs from Blaze’s mane so she could do the DNA test. She had no reason to cut the stirrup leather. And she had no reason to poison Blaze either—after all, if Blaze was actually her horse then why would she try to hurt her?”
Stella’s cheeks were flushed and she was ready to fight back. But as she thought through what Issie was saying, the pink flush turned to embarrassment as she realised that her friend had been right all along.
“All right, all right, so it wasn’t Francoise after all.
But you have to admit, Issie, that she was acting pretty odd, and I still think she’s totally horrible taking Blaze away from you like that. I mean, Blaze is your horse. Everyone knows that.”
“The thing is,” added Kate, “that if Francoise didn’t cut the stirrup leathers or tamper with the horse feed then who else could have done it?”
Issie shook her head. “I don’t know. But I’m sure it wasn’t Francoise.”
“Anyway,” Stella said, “I’m sorry, Issie. It was all my fault that we had that silly fight. I should have believed you about Francoise. I am so sorry that Blaze is gone.”
“Poor Issie! You must feel dreadful,” Kate said. The three friends hugged and Issie felt hot tears welling up. She was brushing them away and hoping no one would notice when she heard voices coming closer.
“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Issie looked up to see Dan and Ben sitting astride their horses with big grins on their faces.
The boys’ smiles faded when Stella explained what had happened to Blaze and unravelled the mystery of Francoise D’arth.
“But, Issie, that’s terrible,” Ben said. “Who’s going to ride now in the Interclub?”
Dan punched him in the arm. “Hey, stupid. What a question! Issie doesn’t care about the Interclub. She’s lost Blaze. That matters more than any gold shield.”
“Hey!” Ben snapped back. “I wasn’t being horrible. I just meant that if Issie isn’t in the team any more then how are we going to win the Interclub?”
“Well, if you want to win I suggest you get training for a start,” Avery barked at them from the clubroom steps. “Come on, everyone, let’s get lined up. We’ve got a busy training session ahead of us and Issie has offered to help out. So let’s get started, shall we?”
The riders all lined up in front of the clubroom by the bending poles and Avery walked along the line, adjusting cavesson nosebands here, correcting their positions in the saddle and taking stirrups up a hole or down a hole as he moved along the line.
Morgan and Natasha, who had still been saddling up, joined them now too, and Avery nodded to the girls to get into line before he spoke. “Most of you will have heard about what has happened to Isadora,” he said. “Which is very hard luck indeed.” He thwacked his left boot firmly with his riding crop. “Still, we have an Interclub to win, and only two more training sessions to go before the competition day, so let’s get cracking!”
He turned now to Morgan, who was sitting on Black Jack and looking at Issie with a curious expression on her face. “Morgan, you’ll be our new team member now that Isadora is out,” Avery said. “We’re going to start training today with relay races. Can we all split into two teams please?”
As the riders all splintered off into their teams Morgan, who still looked stunned by Avery’s speech, rode over to Issie. She looked extremely worried. “Hey, Issie,” Morgan said. “What happened? Avery says you’re not in the team any more. Is Blaze OK?”
“What do you mean?” Issie asked.
“Well, if she’s feeling sick I’m sure it’s nothing that the vet can’t fix,” Morgan said nervously. “She’ll probably just be off her feed for a week or two. It’s a pity she won’t be well in time for the Interclub.” Morgan looked around the paddock. “Hey, where is Blaze, anyway?”
Issie stared at Morgan. “I never said Blaze was sick,” she said flatly. “What makes you think that she’s off her food?”
“Yes, where is your little pony, Isadora?” Natasha Tucker trotted up to join in the conversation. “I heard someone say she’s run off to join the circus.”
“Kind of,” Issie said, turning away. She didn’t want to talk to Natasha, of all people, about Blaze.
“Really?” Natasha said. “So it is true! Blaze is an El Caballo Danza Magnifico mare? I guess she had good breeding after all. Too good for you, at any rate. Those horses are worth a bomb.”
“What are you two talking about?” Morgan was confused now. “Where has Blaze gone?”
Issie shook her head in amazement. “I’m sure Natasha can explain,” she said wearily. “I need to help Tom sort out the boxes for the flag races.”
Issie spent the rest of the training session sitting in the tack room. Well, actually, if she was honest with herself she was hiding in the tack room. At least, she thought, looking on the bright side, if she didn’t have a horse any more there was no more pony club, and no more pony club meant no more Natasha Tucker.
“Issie! We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Have you been in here the whole time?” Stella said when she finally found her.
“Ummm, yeah…I was tidying the gear up,” Issie lied.
“Anyway listen!” Stella continued. “I think you’re right. It wasn’t Francoise at all. It’s so obvious really.”
“Is it?” Issie said.
“Yes! Think about it, silly. Who can’t stand you? Who always wants to beat you? Who would do this sort of thing?”
Issie shrugged. “I don’t know, Stella, but if you’re trying to cheer me up this is a funny way of going about it.”
“It’s Natasha, silly! She cut Annabel’s stirrups because she thought they were yours. You know she has it in for you. It’s, like, just because she’s always been the most popular girl at her school, she can’t stand the fact that you’re the most popular girl at the pony club…”
“What’s going on in here, Issie? Come on, let’s get going!” Tom Avery’s voice interrupted Stella and startled Issie back to reality.
“Let’s get the bending poles packed away again, shall we? Then we can go home.”
Issie had been unusually quiet as they packed up the car. As Avery drove towards Issie’s house, her instructor looked across at her and arched his eyebrow quizzically “Thinking about Blaze?”
Issie nodded.
“Do you remember the day when you met her?” Avery asked. “My God, that mare was in such a state! Caked in mud, a bag of bones and absolutely terrified, the poor thing. Blaze had been so badly treated when we found her that I knew I needed to find her a very special home. I told you at the time that she was in a bad way and I meant it. She might never have survived if it wasn’t for you.”
“I still don’t understand, I guess,” Issie said. “I mean, why you gave Blaze to me.”
“Isadora, when I look at you I see myself as a young rider. You have the natural instincts of a horsewoman,” Avery said. “When Mystic died I was worried that you might have given up on horses. Issie, you must know that it wasn’t your fault that he was killed, but you blamed yourself. I knew the burden you carried and I wondered if you would ever recover. And then Blaze came to me and I knew that you and that mare were meant for each other.”
Avery looked hard at Issie. “You couldn’t save Mystic, but you could save Blaze. And you did save her, Isadora, you know that, don’t you? You should be proud of that. Blaze needed your love—it was your love that made her well again, and it’s the reason she has become the amazing horse she is today. If it hurts you now then that is because you loved her so completely.”
The car pulled into the driveway outside Issie’s front door. Avery parked the car, but before he opened Issie’s door to let her out he placed a hand on her arm. “The price we pay for loving horses this much, unfortunately, is that they can break our hearts. But that doesn’t mean that we should ever stop caring. Even now you mustn’t give up on Blaze,” Avery said. “She still needs you.”
“But, Tom,” Issie protested, “it’s over. Francoise has her and they must be leaving town next week. There’s nothing I can do.”
Avery shook his head. “The bond you have made with Blaze is impossible for anyone to break, Issie.”
He reached across her now and swung open
the passenger door. Issie stepped shakily out of the car and Avery pulled the door shut again behind her.
He had driven a few metres down the driveway when he stopped the car and wound down the passenger window and spoke again. “She’ll always be your horse, Isadora. The question is—do you have enough faith to still be her girl?”
And with that, Avery floored the accelerator on the Range Rover, leaving Issie standing in the driveway in floods of tears as he drove away.
Chapter 12
The signs had already been taken down outside the gates and the trucks were being loaded when Issie arrived at El Caballo Danza Magnifico. As she walked through the main arena there were men up in the rafters above her dismantling the vast lighting rigs.
“Hey! Be careful down there! Does anyone know that you’re here?” one of the men yelled out at her as Issie walked nervously underneath them.
“It’s OK, Joe—she’s here to meet Francoise.” Rene, the burly security man, stepped out into the arena and beckoned with his right hand for Issie to follow him down the corridor to the stables.
As they walked down the corridor that ran between the horse stalls Issie could see Francoise at the far end standing in front of the large wooden doors. She appeared to be in a heated discussion of some sort with two of the young stable hands. Issie could only hear snippets of what they were saying.
Francoise was shouting at the boys now and her hands were waving wildly in the air. “You should have known better. Marius has a huge jump in him. The fence was only adequate for keeping the mares. Never a stallion!” Francoise fumed.
The boys responded meekly to this. Issie couldn’t hear what they said but it certainly didn’t impress Francoise, who threw her hands up in the air in disbelief and stormed off.
She had got halfway along the stable block before she realised that it was Issie at the other end walking towards her. “Isadora! Bonjour.”Francoise grinned. “I am so glad that you have come.”
“Is there something wrong, Francoise?” Issie replied, gesturing towards the two stable boys who were now moving horses through into their loose boxes.