The Riverdale Pony Stories Box Set (Books 1-6)

by Amanda Wills

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Inspector Bill Pearson dunked a digestive biscuit into his mug of tea as he studied a map of Dartmoor, which had been hastily blue-tacked to the wall directly opposite him. Usually the room, on the top floor of the police station, was where officers kept their kit in lockers and spent their breaks microwaving meals and watching sport on a flat screen in the corner. Today the television was silent. The room had been set up as an incident room, a nerve centre where the police were co-ordinating the search for the two missing children.

  The 999 call to say the brother and sister had disappeared from their home near Waterby had come in to the force control room at just before eleven o’clock that morning.

  The children had now been missing for two hours and, with the weather on the moor deteriorating by the minute, the search for them was being treated as a critical incident.

  Inspector Pearson had been put in charge of the search by his chief inspector and was expecting a long shift. He was due to go home at four o’clock but with two children missing on the moor in weather like this he knew the odds of finishing on time were long, to say the least.

  Ignoring the buttons straining across his large stomach he reached for another biscuit.

  ‘How many have we got on the moor now, Woody?’ he asked the man sitting next to him.

  Sergeant Wood was as thin as Inspector Pearson was round. He looked disapprovingly at his superior as the inspector took a large bite of the soggy digestive.

  ‘Well, boss. We have all our available late shift officers and three Dartmoor search and rescue teams on the moor, two of them with dogs. They’re searching a three mile radius of the house, although they’re looking to extend that if we haven’t found the children before it gets dark.’

  ‘What about the chopper? Surely the thermal imaging camera’s going to be our best bet?’ asked the inspector.

  ‘The helicopter’s grounded because of the fog, boss. The search is going to have to be done on foot.’

  ‘That’s going to make things tough. What do we know about the two children?’

  ‘They were being looked after by a friend of the family who has been staying with them while their mother’s in hospital. Mrs McKeever broke her wrist yesterday, by all accounts, but is due home this afternoon.’

  ‘They’re not having a very good week, are they?’ remarked Inspector Pearson.

  ‘The boy, Charlie, left the house some time before ten this morning. He’s six. According to the family friend his sister Poppy, who’s eleven, discovered her brother had gone walkabout and went looking for him on her own. We think she’s been missing since about half past ten.’

  Inspector Pearson looked at the clock. One o’clock. The rain was still drumming against the window. Dartmoor was no place for children on a day like this.

  ‘What about a media appeal?’

  ‘We’re working on that, guv. The on call press officer has been briefed. We’re just waiting for the go-ahead from the mother. Then we’ll get someone down to the house to pick up some recent photos of the kids.’

  ‘Do we have someone at hospital with the mother?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, boss. PC Bodiam has been there since about half past eleven.’

  Inspector Pearson looked at the map again. By Dartmoor standards Riverdale wasn’t particularly remote, but it edged on to an isolated part of the moor where the terrain could be dangerous. Add to that the worsening weather. The temperatures plummeted at night at this time of year. If the children weren’t found before nightfall they didn’t stand a chance, he thought grimly.

  The next couple of hours passed quickly in the makeshift incident room. Every half an hour briefings were given and the inspector updated on the progress of the search. More cups of tea were made and more digestive biscuits were dunked. North east of Riverdale police officers and volunteers from the Dartmoor Rescue Group, in their trademark red jackets, scoured the landscape for any trace of the two children. At just after three o’clock hopes were raised when one of the trained search dogs found a small digital camera. The information was radioed to PC Claire Bodiam at Tavistock Hospital who asked Caroline McKeever if either of the children had a camera, and if so, what make and model.

  ‘Yes,’ Caroline replied quietly. ‘I bought Charlie his own digital camera for Christmas last year so he could take his wildlife pictures on it. It’s a Canon, although I have no idea what model it is. But it’s silver, if that’s any help.’

  PC Bodiam nodded and relayed the message back to the incident room. She smiled reassuringly at Caroline, who was white with worry.

  ‘It looks as if it is Charlie’s camera they’ve found,’ she confirmed. Seeing the fear on Caroline’s face PC Bodiam tried to set her mind at rest. ‘It’s good news, Mrs McKeever. It means the search teams are definitely in the right area. I’m sure it won’t be long before we find Poppy and Charlie.’

  But another hour passed and there was still no sign of the children. Back in the incident room Inspector Pearson was about to incur the wrath of his wife by texting her to say he would be late home. Just as he started tapping out the message his radio crackled. He held it to his ear. Over the airwaves a voice shouted, ‘We’ve found them, guv!’ He deleted the text message with relief. ‘Are they alright?’ he asked.

  ‘The lad is showing early signs of hypothermia and will need to go to hospital. We’ve just radioed for an ambulance. The girl is fine,’ replied the police officer who had been leading the search teams up on the moor.

  ‘Good job. Has anyone let the mother know?’

  ‘PC Bodiam is next on my list to call, guv.’

  Inspector Pearson was puzzled. ‘What on earth possessed the children to do a disappearing act on the moor in this weather?’ he asked.

  ‘They’d gone looking for big cats apparently, guv,’ the radio crackled.

  The inspector raised his eyebrows. ‘I might have known. Sniffer Smith was on to the press office a couple of days ago asking for a police comment on a sighting of the so-called Beast of Dartmoor. For something that doesn’t even exist, that damn creature has a lot to answer for.’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Poppy couldn’t stop shivering. Tory sat her down in front of the fire in the lounge and wrapped her in her duvet to warm her up, but her body refused to stop trembling. Charlie, who was bundled up in his Thomas the Tank Engine duvet next to her, was trying to sip a mug of hot chocolate through chattering teeth. Tory, watching them anxiously, said, ‘It’s probably the shock. You’ll both be as right as rain after a good night’s sleep.’

  Henry Blossom stood by the window, keeping an eye out for the lights of the ambulance. Poppy could hear the quiet murmur of chat coming from the kitchen, where the two remaining members of the police search team were making cups of tea. She’d been surprised to see Henry when they’d finally arrived back at Riverdale, exhausted and chilled to the bone. ‘He was the first person I called when I realised you and Charlie had gone. I didn’t want to phone the police straight away in case you were both tucked up in one of the outbuildings, or had gone up to the farm together. Henry searched the grounds for me while I went over the house. That’s when I found Charlie’s note, realised what must have happened and called the police,’ Tory had explained.

  Her grey hair was mussed up as though she’d spent all day running her hands through it in worry. But her brown eyes were as kind as ever.

  ‘I’m truly sorry for disappearing without telling you and causing everyone such trouble,’ Poppy said for about the tenth time that afternoon.

  ‘It’s alright, pet. I know you were worried about Charlie. At least you’re both safe. All’s well that ends well. That’s what my old mum used to say.’

  ‘My mum had another saying,’ smiled Henry from his post by the window. ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Oh look, here’s the ambulance at last.’

  Charlie was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open but rallied when he heard that it had finally arriv
ed.

  ‘Cool! My first ride in an ambulance! Though I’ve been to the hospital near our old house loads of times,’ he informed Henry proudly. ‘Do you think they’ll use the lights and sirens?’

  ‘They only use blues and twos for emergencies I’m afraid, Charlie,’ Henry replied, glad to see the six-year-old smiling again. Both children had been subdued since they’d been home and looked lost without Caroline. He was glad they’d soon be reunited with her at the hospital in Tavistock.

  Tory was allowed to ride with them in the back of the ambulance and Charlie spent the half hour journey in heaven being shown defibrillators, spine boards, inflatable splints and the burns kit. Poppy chatted quietly to Tory, describing how Cloud had found her in the fog and led her to Charlie.

  ‘I probably could have caught Cloud but I was so worried about Charlie – I had to put him first,’ said Poppy, her eyes downcast.

  ‘You did the right thing, pet,’ said Tory, patting her gently on the knee. ‘Cloud has run wild on the moor for years, he can look after himself. Look how clever he was today, leading you to Charlie. He’ll be fine, I know he will.’ Poppy attempted a smile and tried to believe her.

  Before long they drew up outside the hospital and the two paramedics helped them down the ambulance steps and into the minor injury unit where Caroline was waiting for them, her arms outstretched, a look of pure relief on her face. Charlie was usually quick to rush into his mother’s arms but this time Poppy beat him to it.

  ‘Thank God,’ Caroline murmured into Poppy’s hair as Charlie joined in the hug, Caroline gingerly holding her broken wrist above his head. ‘I’ve been so worried about you both. You two mean the world to me, you do know that, don’t you?’

  Poppy looked into her stepmother’s blue eyes and nodded. ‘Yes, I do. And I’m sorry - for everything.’

  ‘What do you mean? If you hadn’t gone after Charlie God knows what would have happened to him up on the moor on a day like today. You saved his life, Poppy.’

  ‘I didn’t mean for today. I’m sorry for the last six years. For everything.’

  ‘Shhh. It’s all forgotten. I think today is the perfect day to start all over again, don’t you?’

  Poppy nodded gratefully and smiled at her stepmother, who hugged her again.

  Charlie broke the silence. ‘Is Dad coming home?’

  ‘He’s tried to get permission from his newsdesk to come home early and they’ve said they’ll do all they can but we don’t know when he’ll be back I’m afraid, sweetheart. I’ve managed to get a message to him that you’re both OK and he sends his love,’ Caroline replied, and, realising a doctor was hovering in the background, let the children go.

  Once they’d been checked over and declared fit to return home Tory called Henry Blossom, who had volunteered to drive the four of them back to Riverdale.

  ‘I’ve got an idea,’ Caroline said, with a twinkle in her eye. ‘Shall we stop off on the way and treat ourselves to a fish and chip supper?’

  ‘Oh, yes please!’ shouted Charlie. ‘This has been the best day ever! I get to meet loads of real live police, stroke two proper search dogs, ride in an ambulance and have fish and chips for tea. It’s been awesome!’

  The three adults and Poppy exchanged looks before bursting out laughing. Charlie scratched his head and looked at them. ‘Did I say something funny?’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  They were just finishing their fish and chip supper when there was a thump on the back door.

  ‘It’s only me!’ yelled Scarlett. ‘I’m back from gran’s and wanted to talk to Poppy about school.’

  Scarlett stood stock still as she took in the presence of Tory and Henry Blossom and noticed Caroline’s broken wrist.

  ‘Well, you’ve obviously had a much more exciting week than me,’ she commented. ‘Gran’s was sooo boring. She thinks cross stitch is an exciting hobby and her television stopped working when they went over to digital. We spent most of the time visiting ancient aunties and looking around stately homes. It’s been gruesome. I’m so glad to be home, even if we do start Year Seven tomorrow.’

  Poppy swallowed. She’d pushed all thoughts of secondary school to the back of her mind but now it was just hours away. She looked at Caroline. ‘Is it OK if we chill out in my room for a bit so I can fill Scarlett in on all the dramas?’

  ‘Of course, sweetheart. I’m going to get Charlie to bed and then crash in front of the television. Henry’s taking Tory home.’

  The two girls dashed upstairs to Poppy’s room. Caroline had already pulled the curtains, laid out clean pyjamas and switched on the fairy lights, which twinkled merrily over Poppy’s bed. Scarlett sat on the wicker chair by the window. ‘Right. I want to hear everything,’ she said.

  Twenty minutes later Poppy had brought her friend up to speed. ‘I wish I’d been here to help,’ Scarlett said fervently.

  ‘So do I,’ said Poppy. ‘I was terrified something had happened to Charlie. And I feel so guilty about leaving Cloud. If it wasn’t for him we’d probably still be on the moor. I can’t stop thinking about it.’

  ‘The drift is two weeks away. There’s still time to catch him,’ Scarlett pointed out. ‘Anyway, I’d better make a move. Mum only let me come if I promised I wouldn’t be longer than half an hour. Are you all ready for the morning?’

  ‘Yes, my uniform, PE kit and new shoes are in the wardrobe. I just need to sort out my rucksack.’ Poppy went quiet. She knew Scarlett wouldn’t judge her. ‘Actually, I’m dreading it,’ she admitted.

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ll stick together and I’ll introduce you to the girls from my primary school. A few of them are lame but most of them are really nice. You’ll be fine. Don’t forget, the bus goes from the bottom of the lane at ten to eight. So let’s meet at the postbox at twenty to and we’ll walk down together. Mum’s told Alex he’s got to look after us. He’s over the moon, as you can imagine,’ Scarlett giggled.

  When Scarlett had gone Poppy lay on her bed staring at the ceiling and wishing she was as sociable and outgoing as her friend. Caroline stuck her head around the bedroom door.

  ‘Pat’s just phoned to say she’ll take Charlie to and from school for me until I can drive again. Isn’t that kind of her?’

  Poppy nodded. ‘And Scarlett and I are going to walk to the bus stop together in the morning.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. Why don’t you come down and say goodbye to Tory and Henry and I’ll run you a nice hot bath. You mustn’t be too late to bed tonight.’

  Poppy felt as though she’d been asleep for a nano second when her Mickey Mouse alarm clock woke her with a shrill ring the next morning. She threw off the duvet, jumped out of bed and looked out of the window. The day before the tor had been completely concealed by fog. This morning it was bathed in mellow autumn sunshine.

  Downstairs in the kitchen Caroline was singing. She broke off when Poppy walked in. ‘How are you feeling, sweetheart?’ she asked, her blue eyes full of concern.

  ‘Much better, thanks. I finally feel warm again,’ Poppy said, reaching for a box of cereal.

  ‘Good. Charlie’s still in bed. I thought I’d let him lie in.’

  Poppy raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you sure? That’s what I thought yesterday and he turned out to be your dressing gown.’

  ‘No, he definitely is. I heard him snoring. Unless he’s invented a snoring sound effect and is now halfway across Dartmoor looking for his wretched panther.’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it past him,’ said Poppy. She caught Caroline’s eye and they started giggling. The giggles bubbled into laughter and soon they were both laughing hysterically at the thought of Charlie rigging up a snoring soundtrack before creeping, SAS style, back onto the moor.

  ‘As your dad’s not here perhaps he had to make do with recording Magpie snoring,’ snorted Caroline, wiping tears from her eyes.

  Poppy clutched her stomach and dissolved into giggles again. Her dad could snore for England. She tried taking deep breaths but eve
ry time she looked at Caroline they broke into peels of laughter. Poppy remembered the day Scarlett had made Caroline chuckle with stories of school and how jealous she’d been, watching from the sidelines. It felt so good to laugh with her stepmother. She realised that the only person leaving her out of everything had been herself.

  Before she knew it she was walking reluctantly down the Riverdale drive in her new school uniform. The navy blazer felt scratchy around her neck and her new shoes rubbed her ankles uncomfortably. Poppy had worn polo shirts at primary school and after their fit of the giggles Caroline had shown her how to knot her new navy and gold striped tie.

  ‘If you can do a quick release knot you’ll soon get the hang of this. You look so grown up, Poppy. Let me take a photo so I can email it to your dad. He’ll be so sad he’s missed your first day at secondary school.’

  The bus ride into Tavistock was nerve-wracking and even Scarlett seemed intimidated by the too-cool-for-school sixth-formers, even though she could vaguely remember some of them from her primary school. In a whisper Scarlett filled Poppy in on everyone’s family histories so that by the time the bus pulled into the layby outside their new school she knew whose great aunt had married her first cousin and whose dad had been arrested for sheep rustling.

  In fact the day Poppy had been dreading for weeks whizzed by. The two girls were delighted to discover they were in the same form but horrified when they were given their fortnightly timetables, which contained tortures like double science and maths. Their form teacher was a tall, thin, anxious-looking man called Mr Herbert. Some of the boys had already nicknamed him Filthy. Scarlett introduced Poppy to her friends from primary school and the girls trailed around endless corridors searching for the right classrooms whenever the bell went. There was a certain camaraderie among the new Year Sevens. They’d spent the last year strutting around their primary schools with all the confidence of very big fish in very small ponds. Suddenly everyone, even the most self-assured among them, felt as insignificant as sprats, back at the bottom of the pecking order.