by Amanda Wills
Poppy took the scrap of paper and gave the woman a grateful smile. ‘Thank-you.’
‘That's alright.’ She laid a hand on Poppy's arm, leaving a faint floury imprint. ‘Don't worry. I expect they'll send the air ambulance. Everything will be OK.’
Poppy nodded. But inside her heart she knew the woman was wrong. Everything was not going to be OK.
The day had started so well. When Poppy's battered Mickey Mouse alarm clock pulled her out of a deep slumber with a persistent ringing that had bordered on impolite, she groaned, pulled the duvet over her head and almost went back to sleep. Until she remembered with a delicious jolt that it was the first day of the summer holidays. No school, no homework, no interminable talk of coursework and options for a whole six glorious weeks. And as if that wasn't exciting enough, the day she and Scarlett had been looking forward to for weeks had finally arrived.
Poppy jumped out of bed and crossed her room in a couple of strides, picking up a pair of jodhpurs from the end of her bed on the way. She flung open her bedroom window and whistled. Cloud looked up from where he was grazing in the paddock and whinnied. Chester gave an echoing heehaw. Poppy narrowed her eyes and scrutinised her pony. The Connemara had a grass stain on his dappled grey rump, a patch of mud running down his shoulder and a tangled mane. She glanced at the alarm clock. Seven o'clock. Two hours before Scarlett's dad Bill was due to arrive with the trailer to take Cloud and Scarlett's Dartmoor pony Blaze to Redhall Manor Equestrian Centre. Two hours to transform the muddy vision in front of her into a beautifully turned out pony. She knew she was lucky to be invited to Redhall for the week. The least she could do was to meet the exacting standards of Bella Thompson, Redhall's owner.
A bucket of warm water in one hand and a carrot in the other, Poppy headed out of the back door. Wisps of mist that had settled in dips and hollows the night before were already evaporating under the strong midsummer sun. Cloud and Chester stood at the gate flicking flies away with their tails. Poppy measured out their breakfasts and let them into the small area of crumbling concrete in front of the stables and barn that she ambitiously called the yard. While they ate she squirted horse shampoo into the bucket and set to work on Cloud, using a sponge to rub the shampoo into his coat and her fingers to work suds into his mane and tail. She gently hosed him down and used a sweat scraper to squeeze out the excess water. Chester nudged her, as if to remind her it was his turn. Poppy kissed his nose.
‘I'm sorry, Chester. You're staying at home with Caroline and Dad.’
At five past nine Bill's Land Rover bounced up the Riverdale drive, the trailer swaying gently behind it. Scarlett leapt out and slammed the door.
‘Poppy! We're here!’
‘I heard you,’ grinned Poppy, emerging from the tack room with Cloud's saddle on one arm and his grooming kit in the other.
‘I'll take that. You load Cloud. I've done a haynet for him.’ Scarlett opened the door of the Land Rover, propped the saddle alongside her own and squeezed the grooming kit into a space between a sack of sheep pellets and a metal feeding trough. ‘I'll get your bridle. Where's your bag?’
‘Here,’ said Caroline, appearing from the house with Poppy's battered holdall. ‘The place is going to feel a bit empty with you off for the week and Charlie at Cub camp.’
‘Least Dad's at home,’ said Poppy.
Caroline nodded. ‘I've got a list of jobs for him, starting with clearing the guttering. He's going to wish he was at work.’
Cloud safely loaded, they said goodbye and Bill nosed the Land Rover back down the drive. Soon they were on the Okehampton road heading towards Redhall Manor.
‘So you're going to be guinea pigs for the week?’ said Bill.
‘That's right. Bella wants to start offering pony camps in the holidays. She's put together an itinerary but wanted to have a trial run before she starts,’ said Poppy.
‘So we're getting a whole week at Redhall absolutely free.’ Scarlett jiggled in her seat. ‘I can't wait.’
Once they'd pulled into Redhall's immaculately-swept yard Poppy and Scarlett unclipped their seatbelts and went in search of Bella. They found her in the office, staring in exasperation at Harvey Smith, the tabby stable cat named after the famous showjumper, who was stretched across the keyboard of her laptop purring loudly.
‘Damn cat. How am I supposed to finish the accounts?’ Bella tutted. ‘Let's get these ponies settled and I'll tell you my plans.’
Half an hour later Cloud and Blaze were happily munching hay in their borrowed stables and Poppy and Scarlett had joined their fellow guinea pigs around Bella's large kitchen table.
‘I think you all know each other,’ Bella said, looking at the five expectant faces before her.
The children nodded. Joining Poppy and Scarlett for the week were Bella's grandson, Sam, and two girls from Poppy and Scarlett's school, who also had weekly lessons at Redhall Manor. Tia had brought along her own pony, a chestnut gelding with a white blaze called Rufus, and Niamh would be riding one of the Redhall ponies, a bay mare called Merry. Sam would ride his black Connemara mare Star.
‘As you know, some of the children on the pony camps we'll be running will be bringing their own ponies and some will be using ours, so it's a good mix. We'll be hacking out on the moor every morning and having group lessons in the afternoons, tackling a different theme each day, from pole work and jumping to dressage. I'll also be giving lessons on stable management in the evenings. With me so far?’
The children nodded. Bella looked at her watch.
‘Today's hack is a six mile circular ride around the base of Barrow Tor. We'll leave at half past ten.’
A warm westerly breeze ruffled the ponies' manes and tails as they clip-clopped out of the yard, crossed the road and set off down a rutted track onto the moor. Bella led the way on her liver chestnut Welsh cob Floyd. Tia and Niamh rode two abreast behind her and Poppy, Scarlett and Sam brought up the rear. Cloud jogged down the track, his neck arched and his tail high.
‘He's full of beans,’ said Bella, looking back. ‘A blast on the moor will do him good.’
Poppy nodded. She could feel excitement zipping through her pony like an electric current. She relaxed into the saddle and kept the lightest touch on his reins until he took her cue and broke into a walk. Bella nodded approvingly.
They followed the track as it climbed steadily, Dartmoor ponies and black-faced sheep watching as they passed. Falling into single file they crossed through a gate onto a rough lane which led past a remote farmhouse, waving to a woman picking runner beans in the garden. Eventually they came to a wide grassy ribbon of a track. Bella pulled Floyd up.
‘All OK for a canter?’
‘You bet,’ said Scarlett. Cloud danced on the spot and Poppy tightened her reins.
Bella kicked Floyd on and the cob broke into a canter. Tia and Niamh followed.
‘You two go next. I'll bring up the rear,’ said Sam. Poppy squeezed her legs and Cloud sprang forwards into an easy canter, Blaze following close behind.
‘Yee-hah!’ shouted Scarlett, waving an imaginary lasso. She was getting so tall she joked that she would soon need roller skates to ride Blaze. This would probably be her last summer riding the big-hearted Dartmoor pony that she'd had since she was five and she was planning to make the most of it. Poppy felt giddy with exhilaration as they sped on.
‘Pony camp rocks!’ she cried, pushing Cloud faster. She was so focused on Cloud's grey pricked ears that she didn't see the rabbit hole ahead. Neither did Merry. The bay pony's near hind leg shot down the hole and she pitched forwards. There was a gut-wrenching crack and Merry span into a somersault, throwing Niamh into the path of Tia's pony Rufus. Poppy watched with horror as Tia yanked the reins to the right. But it was too late. There was nothing the chestnut gelding could do to avoid Niamh and his hoof landed squarely on the small of her back as she lay face down in the grass.
In the seconds before Scarlett screamed Poppy heard the plaintiff cry of a curlew echo acro
ss the moor. Coor-lee, coor-lee, coor-lee. And then there was silence.
Chapter Two
Poppy, Scarlett and Sam sat on upturned bales of straw outside the tack room listening to Bella's one-sided phone call with growing horror.
‘Injured her spine? Are they sure?’
A pause.
‘And there's nothing they can do? She could be in a wheelchair for life?’
Scarlett clutched Poppy's hand. They could hear an angry buzz from the other end of the phone.
‘Yes, I understand that. But it was an accident. The pony fell down a rabbit hole. There was nothing anyone could have done.’
More enraged buzzing, like a mosquito was trapped in the handset.
‘I'm so very sorry.’ Poppy was sure she could detect a catch in Bella's voice. She gripped Scarlett's hand back.
‘If there's anything I can do please let me -’ Before Bella could finish there was a click. Conversation over, she tramped out of the office, her normally ramrod-straight shoulders stooped, muttering about it being the final straw.
When she saw the three children she cocked her head towards the office. ‘I expect you heard all that.’
They nodded.
‘Who was it, Gran?’ Sam asked.
‘Gordon Cooper.’
They looked at her blankly.
‘Niamh's dad,’ Bella said. ‘He's threatening to sue. Says it should never have happened. I tried to explain it was an accident but he wasn't having any of it. Apparently I should have inspected the route and carried out a risk assessment.’
‘That's ridiculous!’ exploded Scarlett. ‘Perhaps he'd like to sue the rabbit, too.’
‘Poor Niamh,’ said Poppy. ‘Will she be in hospital for long?’
‘A few weeks. And then she'll be transferred to a specialist spinal unit, according to her father. Rufus's hoof damaged her spinal cord. It's unlikely she'll ever walk again.’
Scarlett stifled a sob and Poppy put her arm around her shoulders. ‘We should keep busy. Keep our minds off it. We'll do evening stables tonight, Bella.’
Bella rubbed a hand across her face. ‘That would be a real help, Poppy. There's a million and one things I need to do. Sam'll show you where everything is.’
‘Do you think your gran'll be alright?’ Poppy asked Sam, trying not to look at Merry's empty stable. The police had radioed for a vet once the air ambulance had taken off, its whirring propellers flattening the wiry moorland grasses. The vet slammed the door of his 4x4, strode over to Merry, took one look at her broken leg and shook his head.
‘There's nothing I can do. I'm sorry,’ he told Bella.
She nodded. ‘Just make it as comfortable for her as possible.’
Poppy couldn't bear to watch as the vet sedated the pony.
‘Take the horses to the farm. It'll only upset them. I'll come as soon as we're done,’ Bella said.
Sam took Floyd's reins from his grandmother and they started walking. Poppy glanced back to see Bella rubbing the bay mare's ears, talking to her in a low murmur as the vet reached inside his bag. They were half a mile away when a single gunshot rang out over the moor. Poppy gasped and clung to Cloud's neck. She could hear Scarlett sobbing. Sam's face was like granite.
‘She'll be OK. She's as tough as they come,’ he said now, handing Poppy a pitchfork.
‘What did she mean about it being the final straw?’
‘A new livery yard opened at Claydon Manor a couple of months ago. State-of-the-art facilities. The horses are stabled in luxury loose boxes and they've got indoor and outdoor schools, a cross country course and a horse walker. They've even got a horse solarium. Gran's already lost two of her best liveries to Claydon and she's worried they won't be the last. That's why she wanted to start the pony camps. She needed the extra income.’
‘Did you say Claydon Manor?’ said Scarlett, poking her head over Floyd's stable door.
Sam nodded.
‘But that's -’
‘Georgia Canning's home,’ he said. ‘According to Gran, they've spent their way through their lottery win and are now having to make the place pay. Georgia's trainer has been promoted to livery yard manager and Georgia's had to sell most of her jumping string to make way for liveries.’
‘Ouch. I don't suppose that went down too well,’ said Poppy, remembering Georgia's supercilious smile as she'd beaten Sam and Star in the open class at Redhall's affiliated show the previous autumn.
‘And Angela Snell seems intent on poaching Gran's liveries.’ Sam kicked the bale of hay outside Floyd's stable.
‘Who's Angela Snell?’ asked Poppy.
‘Georgia's trainer. She's a nasty piece of work. She knows she'll be out of a job if the yard isn't a success. And knowing Angela she won't let anything or anybody stand in her way.’
That evening, as Poppy cleared the kitchen table and Scarlett began attacking their dirty plates with a soapy washing up brush, Bella asked them if they wanted to leave.
‘I've decided to postpone the launch of the pony camps in light of Niamh's accident,’ she said heavily. ‘Tia's gone home. I quite understand if you want to go too.’
‘Are you kidding? We've been looking forward to our week at Redhall for ages,’ said Scarlett.
‘We don't mind that the camp is cancelled. But we'd like to stay and help. That's if you want us to,’ said Poppy shyly.
Bella looked at Sam, who was flicking through a tattered copy of Horse and Hound.
‘It's fine by me. What do you think, Sam?’
He looked up from the magazine and glanced at Poppy. She found her cheeks growing hot.
‘Makes sense, now they're here,’ he said. ‘We could probably use the help.’
‘That's settled then.’ Bella smiled briefly. ‘You ought to be making a move, Sam. Otherwise your mum'll be moaning about child labour again.’
Sam nodded, plucked his cycling helmet from the detritus on the Welsh dresser and headed out of the back door with a casual ‘See you in the morning’. Poppy picked up a tea towel and started drying up, trying to ignore the knowing smile on Scarlett's face.
The phone rang.
‘That'll be my insurance broker. I've been trying to reach him all afternoon.’ Bella picked up the phone, listened for a moment and replaced the handset.
‘No luck?’ said Poppy.
Bella shook her head. ‘Wrong number. It's the second one this evening. Leave the rest of the washing up. I'll show you where you're sleeping.’
Bella led the two girls to a double bedroom at the front of the house, overlooking the drive. The walls were painted the colour of ripe corn and a reproduction Munnings had been given pride of place above the fireplace. The room was simply furnished - two single beds, a large pine chest of drawers and an old pine door in the wall, which Poppy presumed led to a built-in cupboard - but Bella had added brightly coloured patchwork quilts, scatter cushions and a pile of pony magazines on the chest of drawers.
‘What a lovely room,’ Poppy said.
‘The other bedroom is along the landing. I've painted that moss green and there's a Stubbs over the fireplace. That's where Tia and Niamh should have been staying.’ A look of anguish crossed Bella's face and she sat down on one of the beds. ‘I can't stop thinking about poor Niamh. If only we'd gone a different way.’
Poppy looked at Scarlett helplessly. Bella was usually so indomitable, although Poppy knew her brusque exterior was misleading. She cared deeply about her ponies and riders.
‘You mustn't blame yourself. It was an accident,’ she said. ‘Niamh's dad'll realise that once he's had a chance to think.’
Bella shook her head. ‘You didn't hear him, Poppy. He was incandescent. And he holds me wholly responsible.’ She cocked her ear. ‘And the blasted phone is ringing again. I suppose I'd better get it.’
Once Poppy and Scarlett had unpacked they went down to find Bella. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands.
‘What's the matter?’ said Scarlett.
; Bella exhaled slowly. ‘And there I was thinking that today couldn't get any worse. My Auntie Margaret's had a fall and broken her hip. I need to go and see her.’
‘That's alright,’ said Poppy. ‘You can go in the morning. We'll look after everything here, won't we Scar? Sam can help us.’
Scarlett nodded. ‘Where's she in hospital? Plymouth?’
Bella shook her head. ‘Inverness.’
Poppy and Scarlett were watching an old episode of Friends when Bella found them half an hour later.
‘It's all sorted,’ she said. ‘My godson Scott is going to come and stay for a few days. He's a working pupil at a showjumping yard in Exeter. He used to have a Saturday job here when he was younger and knows the place inside out. I'd cancelled all lessons anyway because of the pony camp, so it's just a matter of looking after the liveries and the riding school ponies. My daughter Sarah - Sam's mum - is also going to move in until I'm back. She's hopeless with horses but she's a wonderful cook and she'll look after you all.’ Bella paused. ‘Do you think you'll be able to cope?’
The two friends nodded.
Bella smiled. ‘Thank you, girls. I know Redhall will be in good hands.’
The next morning Bella lifted her suitcase into the boot of her car, slammed it shut and turned to face Poppy, Scarlett and Sam.
‘I've phoned around the liveries and told them what's happening. A couple of them weren't too happy but there's not much I can do about that. The only one I couldn't get hold of is Vivienne. She'll probably be up this afternoon anyway. You'll have to tell her then. Sarah's on her way and Scott said he'd be here by eleven. You've got my number, haven't you Sam?’
He patted the mobile phone in his pocket.
They watched Bella's car disappear down the drive. Poppy was puzzled. Sam had gone quiet the minute Bella had mentioned her godson.
‘What's Scott like,’ she asked.
‘He's OK. If you like that sort of thing,’ he muttered, sweeping his blond fringe out of his eyes.