by Stacy Gregg
Issie thought about the time she had ridden through here at a wild gallop on Blaze. The mare had been impossible to stop that day, but Issie had managed to stay on somehow. She thought about the time too when Blaze had bolted and jumped the gate between the two paddocks with Issie on her back. That day, she remembered ruefully, she hadn’t been so lucky. Avery told her there was an old saying: you need to fall off seven times before you can really call yourself a rider. Well, if that were true, then her time with Blaze had definitely made a rider out of her!
When they finally emerged from the trees, the rain had stopped and it was getting late. Issie guessed it was almost dinnertime. She slid down off the grey pony and gave him a long hug goodbye. “Thank you, Mystic,” she murmured.
She walked back across the paddock. At one point she looked back over her shoulder and was surprised to see that he was still there watching her. She gave him a little wave as if to say that she was going to be OK and he didn’t have to worry any more, and with that the little gelding stamped a hoof in return, flicked his mane and then set off back into the trees at a high-spirited canter. Issie watched as his grey dapples blurred into the shadows, and then she smiled to herself, turned around and kept walking through the damp grass towards her bike. She was feeling hungry again and it was time to go home.
“Mum! I’m back!” Issie called as she walked in through the front door, peeling off her waterproof and throwing it in the laundry along with her boots before she entered the kitchen. “Mum?”
Issie stood in the kitchen for a moment, puzzled as to where her mother might be. And then she heard her voice in the hallway talking on the phone. “All right, then. Of course. Yes, she’s just arrived. We’ll come now. Put the kettle on and we’ll see you in a minute.”
Issie walked through into the hallway just as her mother hung up the phone. Her mum, she thought, had a very queer look on her face. Something was up.
“Put your coat and boots back on,” Mrs Brown instructed briskly. “We’re off.”
“What’s going on? Where are we going?” Issie pestered her mum as she pulled her wet coat and boots back on again and clambered into the car.
“You’ll see,” is all her mother would reply.
And so the two of them drove in tense silence, with Issie occasionally trying to ask again what was going on and her mum just shaking her head and saying, “Wait. Just wait. We’re nearly there. It’s not far.”
It was getting dark as Issie and her mum drove up the tree-lined driveway into Winterflood Farm. As they pulled up into the gravel turning bay, Tom Avery stepped out of his front door to meet them. He was dressed, as always, in jodhpurs and long boots. He smiled broadly when he saw them both. “Come in,” he said. “Good timing. We’ve just made a pot of tea.”
We? thought Issie. Who else was here? There had been a strange car, a Peugeot, parked next to Tom’s horse truck. Who was here with him?
She stopped and shook the rain off her coat before hanging it on the hook in the front porch, and then followed her mother in the door.
Avery’s house was a tiny, old-fashioned cottage with an Aga in the kitchen and a big wooden dining table and chairs taking up the centre of the room. It was into the kitchen that he led them now, and Issie couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw who was sitting at the kitchen table. There, right in front of her was a face that she never thought she would see again. It was Francoise D’arth.
“Bonjour, Isadora,” Francoise said, standing up. “We have just made tea. Would you and your mother like some?”
“Yes, umm, no…I mean…Francoise, what are you doing here?” Issie couldn’t help her reaction. The last time she saw Francoise D’arth she was taking Blaze away and now here she was again, in Tom Avery’s kitchen, smiling and offering pots of tea.
“I know, I know” Francoise seemed to read Issie’s mind. “It is strange, is it not? I, too, thought that I would never see you again. At least,” she added, “not for a very long time. But here we are. The fates have changed their minds.”
“But aren’t you leaving today?” Issie asked. Her heart was racing.
“Oui—yes, I am leaving,” Francoise replied. She checked her watch. “In fact, I need to be leaving very soon. The rest of the crew are packed and will have departed already by now. But first I had to bring you something.”
Issie remembered the gold heart necklace. “Oh—thanks but…do you mean the necklace? Don’t you remember? You already gave it to me. It’s very beautiful. I didn’t get to say thank you…”
Francoise laughed. “Isadora, do you really think I would come here at this hour in this weather to bring you a necklace?” She wrapped her arm around Issie’s shoulder and led her out towards the back of the house. “Listen, our tea can wait.” Francoise winked at Tom. “I have something to show you. Come with me.” As they stepped out the back door, Francoise slipped behind Issie. She reached her hands up so they were over Issie’s face, covering her eyes. Then she guided Issie out the door and into the field directly behind Avery’s house. Francoise whispered something in Issie’s ear and then she pulled her hands away again. “Voila!” She laughed.
Issie gasped. There, standing in front of her, dancing nervously and tugging against the lead rope in Tom Avery’s hand, was Blaze.
The pot of tea went stone cold, of course. There was a tearful reunion between horse and rider, and laughter and lots of hugs. Finally, Avery pointed out that it was still raining and it was getting dark and they were all getting far too wet, and shouldn’t they turn Blaze out for the night in his spare paddock? And so they all went inside again and a fresh pot of tea was brewed and Francoise finally had the chance to explain.
“I had a call this morning from the masters in Spain who own the El Caballo Danza Magnifico riding school,” Francoise said as she sipped her tea, which she took without milk and with a slice of lemon. “Their instructions to me were brief and quite to the point. They told me that Salome was to be brought back to you at once.”
“But I don’t understand…” Issie was confused.
Francoise gave a perplexed shrug. “Neither do I. All they told me was that someone had paid them for the mare. Handsomely, I assume. Horses such as Salome do not come cheap. She is valuable—but I suppose not irreplaceable. There are some young mares back at the farm in Spain which we have been training for some time now, ever since she was stolen. Perhaps they may take her place. But none will be as good as she was…”
Francoise paused for a moment and then continued. “Of course when they told me that Salome was to be returned to you I called your house immediately to tell you the news—but you were out. It was your mother who arranged for me to bring Salome here. She wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Mum!” Issie said.
Mrs Brown beamed at her. “Well, I thought it was my turn to have a secret for once,” she said.
Issie grinned back at her mother and then she turned to Francoise. “So who is this person who bought Blaze?” Issie was puzzled.
Francoise lowered her eyes and blew on her hot tea to cool it a little. “They did not tell me who it was,” she said. “What was the term they used? Ah yes…they said to tell you it was an anonymous benefactor!” Francoise laughed.
“And this benefactor…they own her now?” Issie was still confused.
“No, no, Isadora. You don’t understand.” Francoise smiled. “They bought Salome—Blaze—for you. She is your horse. You own her.”
Francoise pulled the papers out of the inside pocket of her gilet. “I have all the paperwork right here including her bloodlines,” she explained. Francoise paused, and then smiled. “But we can talk about that later. Right now, all you need to know is that Blaze is your horse—and for good this time.”
Issie couldn’t help herself. She threw herself across the table and hugged Francoise with delight.
“Hey,” Francoise laughed, “you must take good care of her, Isadora. Salome was the star of my stable, and I shall miss her very, very much. But I am sure I
shall see you both again.”
She stood up and put her tea cup down on the table. “I had better go now. The others have driven on ahead and the weather is so frightful I really should try and catch up…”
“Wait!” Issie felt like she had so many questions still to be answered. “Francoise, please, just one more thing. I need to ask you about that night when I ran into you in the tack room. You told me afterwards that you were there to get Blaze’s hairs for the DNA sample…” Issie paused. “I don’t know how to ask you this but I have to know. Did you have anything to do with cutting the stirrup leather, the one on Annabel’s saddle? Or putting the selenium into Blaze’s feed?”
Francoise shook her head. “I am so sorry. When I heard of these things that have happened, I realise now that I should have said something sooner. Perhaps I could have saved poor Annabel…” She looked down at the table as she spoke, “Isadora, I told you that I was at the pony club that night. But I was never in the tack room. I was coming back across the paddock when I saw you in the doorway. There was a woman with black hair, she knocked you down. I saw that you were not hurt so I ran after her, but she was gone too quickly and then I realised that you had seen me, so I ran too and jumped over the fence and drove away.”
Issie looked at Francoise. Could it be true? Was there another woman at the pony club that night?
“Isadora,” Francoise smiled, “please trust me. I have no reason to lie. I know nothing of the stirrup leather. I did not touch the horse feed. I would never hurt Blaze or any other horse.”
Issie nodded quietly. “I know, Francoise,” she said. “I do believe you. It wasn’t you in the tack room that night, and it wasn’t you who poisoned Blaze’s feed. In fact, I think I know who did it. Now I just have to prove it.”
Chapter 14
Natasha Tucker straightened her tie and admired her reflection in the wing mirror of the Mercedes. Today’s pony-club rally was the final team training session before the Interclub Gold Shield and all the riders were in full uniform so that Avery could check their turnout.
“Mum,” Natasha scowled as she cast her eye over her palomino mare, “I asked for Goldrush to have an odd number of plaits and you’ve gone and done evens again!”
Mrs Tucker stuck her head out of the door of the Mercedes and rolled her eyes at Natasha. “Maybe you’d like to try getting up at six in the morning to groom Goldrush yourself?” she responded.
“Uggh. No thanks,” Natasha groaned. She looked across at the group of riders saddling up under the spread of a large plane tree. One of them was laughing and chattering away as she brushed out the long flaxen tail of her pony. Natasha took a second look at the girl and the horse. “I don’t believe it!” she said.
“What now?” her mother asked with an air of resignation in her voice.
“Isadora is here and she’s got her horse back!” Natasha said.
The news of Blaze’s return spread like wildfire through the pony club that day. Issie knew it would. She also knew, after her conversation last night with Francoise, that not everyone would be pleased to see Blaze was back. If Francoise was not responsible for Annabel’s accident or for Blaze’s poisoned horse feed, then the real culprit was still here at the club.
When Francoise told Issie that there was another woman in the tack room that night, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly fell into place. “I think I know the reason that Annabel’s stirrup leather was cut,” Issie told Stella and Kate. “I think I know why they did it.
And I also know who did it—it was the same person who poisoned Blaze’s horse feed.”
“Well?” Kate said. “Come on. Who was it then?”
“I can’t say yet. I want to be sure that I’m right before I start accusing anyone,” Issie said. She looked serious. “You must promise me that you’ll both be careful and make sure to check your gear today before you ride. Whoever caused those accidents is still out there. I can’t explain it yet, but I’m pretty sure that now Blaze is back we may all be in danger.”
“Shall we tell Dan and Ben?” Stella asked.
Issie nodded. “They need to keep a close eye on their horses.”
“What about Natasha and Morgan?” Kate said.
“No,” Issie said firmly. “Don’t tell them.”
“But they might be in danger too!” Stella squeaked.
But Issie shook her head. “No, I don’t think so,” she replied quietly.
When the girls lined up with the rest of the squad for the training session all eyes were on Issie and Blaze.
“Excellent!” Tom Avery said as he addressed the team. “Now, as you can all see, Isadora has Blaze back.”
He turned to Issie and gave Blaze a cheerful slappy pat on her neck. “How is she feeling, Issie?”
“Great, Tom!” Issie smiled. “She’s fine—I think she’s just happy to be home again.”
“Excellent,” Avery said. He turned to the lineup of riders now and gave his right boot a resounding whack with his riding crop to get their attention. “Right. With Isadora and Blaze back in the team we’re going to have to do some reshuffling,” Avery said blithely. “Morgan, you will be team reserve again.”
Issie looked across at Morgan. She glared back at Issie, her eyes blazing with anger and then looked away.
“Hold on a moment, Tom!” a voice called out from the clubroom steps. Araminta Chatswood-Smith came striding across to where Avery stood addressing his team. “Are you telling me that you’re dropping Morgan from the team just because your star rider is back again? That doesn’t seem very fair, does it?” Araminta’s voice was steely and cold.
“I agree, Minty,” Avery said. “It’s rough on Morgan, but I can’t leave Isadora out either. She was originally selected to ride and now that she can ride, I have to put her back in the team.”
“All the same,” Araminta fumed, “my daughter has trained hard for this team. Riding in the Interclub Shield is very important to me.”
“Important to me?” Avery repeated her phrase. “You mean important to Morgan, don’t you? Who exactly are you talking about here, Minty, because it strikes me that you might be confusing your own ambitions with Morgan’s wishes.”
“I’m doing nothing of the sort,” Araminta harrumphed. “Morgan is desperate to ride in the Interclub Shield. I think you need to reconsider your decision.”
“And I think you need to leave the team selection up to me,” Avery said. “Listen, Minty, I’m sure she’ll get the chance to ride in the Interclub. Next year…”
But Araminta wasn’t listening. “Come on, Morgan, training is over!” she snapped at her daughter, and she stormed off in disgust.
Morgan looked a bit bewildered. She watched her mother stomping off towards the horse truck, and then shrugged her shoulders, gathered up her reins and clucked Jack on, trotting off after her mother.
“Tom, maybe I shouldn’t be in the team…” Issie began.
“Nonsense, Isadora. You’re in the team and that’s final,” Avery said calmly. “There’ll be no further discussion on the matter.”
“Now, everyone, we’re doing rider on the flat training today. The winner of this event gets three big points for the team, so everyone spread yourselves out around the arena and walk on with a loose rein to get them warmed up. Let’s start thinking about our position in the saddle, shall we?”
At the end of the day as Issie unsaddled Blaze she thought about the past few weeks and everything she had been through. She had lost her horse and now she had her back. After that, a little thing like the Interclub Shield shouldn’t really matter much to her at all. Yet she still found herself thrilled with the idea of being in the team and she felt butterflies in her tummy even thinking about the competition. The Interclub was this weekend. They had just a few more days to prepare. She slid the stirrup leathers up on her saddle and undid the girth, then moved around to the other side of her horse and slid the saddle off.
As she slipped the bridle over Blaze’s ears she spoke softly to h
er. “Now that you’re back we have a competition to win,” she told her. “Are you ready, girl?”
Blaze nickered in reply and Issie laughed. “Yeah, me too!” she said.
With the bridle hanging down from her shoulder and the saddle slung over her right arm she walked over to the tack room. The team would all be leaving their horses and gear here until the day of the Interclub rally so that they could fit in one more training session before the event.
In the tack room, Issie slid her saddle on to the wooden saddle horse. She thought about the training session today and how furious Araminta had been when her daughter hadn’t made the team after all. Araminta’s fury had only confirmed Issie’s suspicions.
It was more than a coincidence, Issie thought, that all these accidents had started happening after Araminta arrived at the pony club. Issie had seen some pushy pony-club mums before but this was extreme. It was scary how much Araminta wanted Morgan to ride in the Interclub. Was she really so determined that she would go to any lengths to get rid of anything that stood in her way? Did that include sabotaging other riders who were chosen ahead of her own daughter? Issie remembered Francoise describing the stranger in the tack room that night as “a woman with dark hair”. It all made sense. It had to be Araminta.
Issie looked around the tack room. If Araminta was causing the accidents would she give up now? No. Araminta wasn’t the sort to give up. She would make one last effort to get rid of the competition and get her daughter in the team. Only this time, Issie would be ready for her.
That evening, after her mum had gone to bed, Issie snuck down to the kitchen and packed her backpack with everything she would need. She had a silver Thermos filled with the leftover soup from dinner in case she got hungry. Her mum had bought her a new torch for school camp, and she put that in too, checking the batteries to make sure they still worked. She also borrowed her mum’s mobile phone just in case, and put in the throw rug off the sofa to snuggle under if it got cold. Then she strapped her backpack on to her back, grabbed her bike out of the garage and set off.