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

by Amanda Wills

  Cloud turned the final corner and whickered. Poppy gasped. Standing in front of them, lit by the ghostly glow, was Merry, with Niamh sat astride her. The bay mare whickered and Cloud stepped forward and blew softly into her nostrils.

  Niamh jumped down from Merry and smiled.

  ‘We've been waiting for you, haven't we, Merry?’ she said.

  Poppy could feel tears welling behind her eyes. ‘We just kept hitting dead end after dead end.’

  ‘But you found us in the end.’

  Poppy nodded. She slid off Cloud's back and tried to peer around Niamh and Merry. ‘What's in the centre of the maze?’

  Niamh stepped forward, obscuring the source of the light. ‘The truth,’ she said simply.

  ‘I need to see it!’ cried Poppy. ‘I need answers!’

  ‘The answers are there, Poppy. You just need to know where to look.’

  As Poppy leant forward Niamh grabbed her shoulder and started shaking it. ‘No, Poppy, no!’

  ‘Get off!’ Poppy cried. But the shaking wouldn't stop. Poppy felt herself swim back to consciousness. She opened her eyes groggily. Scarlett was standing over her, shaking her shoulder.

  ‘Oh no, Poppy! No! We've slept through the alarm!’

  The image of the dream was still so powerful it took a moment for Poppy to register what Scarlett was saying.

  ‘Wake up, Poppy!’ Scarlett flung Poppy's jeans and sweatshirt at her. ‘We need to check on the horses!’

  Poppy sat up slowly. Scarlett was already dressed and had pulled the curtains. The bedroom was flooded with light. Poppy checked the time on her phone. Twenty five past six.

  ‘But I don't understand,’ she gabbled. ‘I set the alarm last night. I remember doing it.’

  ‘You set it for two o'clock this afternoon,’ said Scarlett, pointing. ‘Look.’

  Poppy scanned the screen. Scarlett was right. The alarm was due to go off at 1400 not 0400. She must have accidentally pressed one instead of nought. What an idiot. She grabbed her jeans and pulled them on, trying to ignore the knot of fear tightening in her stomach.

  ‘They'll be OK. It's all padlocked,’ she said, more to convince herself than Scarlett.

  They had reached the bottom of the stairs when Sam bowled in like a tornado. He skidded to a halt on Bella's oak floor when he saw them and looked at Poppy. His face was leached of all colour.

  Poppy knew then that something had happened to Cloud. It was her punishment for not setting the alarm properly. She felt light-headed with fear and grabbed hold of the newel post to steady herself.

  ‘What is it? What's happened to him?’ she whispered.

  Sam shot a desperate look at Scarlett, who put her arm around Poppy's trembling shoulders.

  ‘I'm so sorry, Poppy. He's gone.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Poppy's legs buckled under her and she sat down on the bottom stair with a thump.

  ‘Gone? What do you mean, gone?’

  ‘He was there when we checked at two o'clock. I woke up at six and thought I might as well check on them. Someone had cut through the chain around the gate and it was swinging open.’

  ‘Are any of the others missing?’ Scarlett asked, her face pale.

  Sam shook his head. ‘Cloud's stable door was the only one that was open. I've spent the last half an hour checking all the fields but I can't find him anywhere. I'm sorry Poppy. He's gone.’

  ‘This is all my fault!’ Poppy wailed.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Sam asked, frowning.

  ‘I set the wrong time on the alarm. We didn't do the four o'clock check. Oh Scarlett, what am I going to do?’

  Scarlett sat down beside Poppy. ‘It's alright. We'll find him, I promise.’

  ‘He lived wild on the moor for five years, Scar. I couldn't catch him last time. What makes you think this time'll be any different?’

  ‘We don't know he's on the moor,’ Scarlett reasoned.

  Poppy jumped to her feet. ‘You're right. I need to check the fields again.’ She marched over to the back door and pulled on her jodhpur boots, Scarlett and Sam trailing behind her.

  ‘Did you check behind the shelter in Treacle's field?’ she asked Sam.

  He shook his head.

  ‘Well then, that's where we'll start.’ Poppy set off at a jog towards Treacle's paddock. She scanned the fields for any sign of Cloud, but the only grey ponies in sight were Salt and Pepper, who lifted their heads and watched as she ran past.

  Poppy paused at the open gate to Treacle's paddock. Her heart was thudding painfully in her chest. She puffed out her cheeks and blew. Her mouth was so dry it took three attempts before she could muster a half-decent whistle. Poppy held her breath. Normally there would be an answering whinny and Cloud would appear in search of a titbit and a welcome scratch behind his ear. But today all she could hear was the blood pounding in her head.

  She raced across the field to the shelter, trying not to think about poor Treacle's shredded skin. She crossed her fingers and peered around the back wall. But the only thing there was a green wheelbarrow.

  She became aware of Scarlett and Sam behind her and spun around.

  ‘I'm going to double-check the other fields too,’ she panted. She knew she sounded slightly hysterical but she didn't care. If Cloud felt even a fraction of the love for Poppy that she felt for him he wouldn't have run away, would he?

  She spent the next half an hour checking and re-checking the paddocks, running to and fro like a kid with a sugar rush. Eventually Sam grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop.

  ‘He's not here, Poppy,’ he said.

  Poppy knew in her heart that he was right. She looked at him, her face streaked with tears.

  ‘Come on,’ said Scarlett gently. ‘Let's go back to the house.’

  Scott was by the gate inspecting the chain when they tramped back. He beckoned them over.

  ‘Whoever did this must have had a really heavy duty set of bolt croppers,’ he said, showing them where the metal had been cut cleanly through.

  ‘But why was Cloud's the only stable he opened?’ wailed Poppy.

  ‘It's the closest one to the drive. Perhaps he was intending to let all the horses out but got spooked and legged it,’ said Sam.

  Poppy knew he was probably right but it didn't make it any easier to bear. If only she'd put Cloud in Merry's stable. If only she'd set her alarm properly. If only they hadn't come to Redhall in the first place none of this would have happened. Cloud would be safely tucked up in his stable with Chester, waiting for his breakfast. As it was, he could be miles away, frightened and alone.

  Scarlett guessed what she was thinking. ‘Remember what you told Tia, Poppy. You've got to forget the what ifs. What we need to do is decide what we're going to do next.’

  ‘I'll do morning stables so you three can look for Cloud,’ said Scott.

  Poppy ran her hands through her hair. ‘But where do we start?’

  ‘We'll phone the police and all the local vets and animal sanctuaries,’ said Sam. ‘Have you got a photo of Cloud we can send them?’

  Poppy thought of her phone, lying on her bedside table. ‘Hundreds,’ she said.

  ‘Good. Mum can start phoning around while we go up onto the moor.’

  One of the things Poppy loved most about Dartmoor was the vastness of it. She loved the sense of freedom and adventure the huge landscapes and sweeping panoramas promised. But this morning, as she trudged down the Redhall drive with Cloud's headcollar on her shoulder and a bucket of pony nuts in her hand, the sheer size of the moor only served to remind her of the enormity of the task ahead. Sometimes, when they hacked out alone on the moor, Cloud would stand stock still, lift his head, sniff the air and Poppy would feel him quivering with excitement. She often wondered if he pined for the freedom he'd once taken for granted. Poppy knew that by bringing him home to Riverdale she'd taken his freedom away and replaced it with a life of captivity and routine, dependence and predictability. What if he hated her for it and longed
to be free?

  Where would he go? Would he head for Riverdale, pulled by an unconscious force back to the safety of home, the companionship of his stablemate Chester and the promise of a bucketful of breakfast? Or would his flight instinct take over, send him galloping for the horizon, the lure of rediscovered freedom erasing Poppy and Riverdale from his memory?

  ‘We'll check the routes we've ridden on first,’ said Sam, interrupting Poppy's spiralling thoughts.

  She automatically glanced left and right as they reached the road. An image of mangled metal and Cloud's lifeless body pushed its way into her mind's eye like a mirage.

  ‘What if he's been hit by a car?’ she cried. Her mum Isobel was killed in a car crash when Poppy was four. Surely fate wouldn't be so cruel?

  Scarlett shook her head. ‘He'll be fine, Poppy. I know he will.’

  They set off down the rutted track onto the moor, their shoulders hunched and their heads bowed as the track climbed steadily. Soon they were passing the farmhouse where Poppy had called for help. The woman in the red-checked shirt was pegging out a line of washing. She waved when she saw them.

  Scarlett waved back. ‘You haven't seen a grey pony, have you?’ she called.

  The woman dropped her bag of pegs into the basket of wet washing and walked over.

  ‘A Dartmoor pony?’

  ‘No, he's a dappled grey Connemara, about so high,’ Scarlett said, holding her hand above her shoulder. ‘He escaped from Redhall last night.’

  The woman shook her head. ‘Sorry, I haven't.’ She noticed Poppy, who was standing behind Scarlett. ‘You're the girl who asked to use the phone after the riding accident the other day.’

  Poppy nodded.

  ‘How is your friend? I've been thinking about her.’

  ‘Not good. And her pony had to be put to sleep,’ said Scarlett.

  ‘I did wonder when I saw the vet's Land Rover. What an awful thing to have happened. And now you've lost a pony, too.’ She turned to Poppy. ‘Is it the one you were riding when you came for help?’

  ‘Yes.’ Poppy swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘If you see him, please will you phone me?’

  ‘Of course. I'll get a pen and paper and you can write your number down. I'll tell my husband to keep a look out while he's checking on the sheep. And I can pass the word to our neighbours, too, if you like.’

  ‘Thank you, that's really kind,’ Poppy said, smiling feebly.

  They asked everyone they passed that morning but no-one had seen Cloud. Poppy's hopes were raised when a couple walking their chocolate Labrador said they'd seen a grey pony drinking from a nearby stream. She raced over, her heart in her mouth, only to find the pony was an iron grey Dartmoor mare with a bay filly foal at foot. She could have wept.

  At one o'clock, when there was still no sign of the Connemara, Sam suggested they went back to Redhall.

  ‘We can ride out this afternoon. We'll be able to cover much more ground than we can on foot. We'll head over to Claydon Manor to see if he went that way,’ he said.

  ‘OK,’ said Poppy dully, though she knew it was a waste of time. Cloud was gone. And he was never coming back.

  Sarah was waiting by the back door and ushered them in.

  ‘I've phoned the three nearest vets, two local animal sanctuaries and the police. There haven't been any accidents and no injured ponies have been brought in. So that's good, isn't it?’ she said brightly.

  ‘But no-one's seen him,’ Poppy said flatly.

  The smile slipped from Sarah's face. ‘No, they haven't. But I've left our number with everyone. He's bound to show up sooner or later.’

  Poppy's nerves, already stretched to breaking point, suddenly snapped. ‘Horses aren't like homing pigeons, Sarah. He's not going to suddenly turn up on the doorstep.’

  Sarah flushed. ‘I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.’

  Poppy hadn't thought it possible she could feel any worse. But when she saw the hurt on Sarah's face she knew she was wrong.

  ‘No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. It's not your fault. And I do appreciate your help, I really do.’

  Scarlett banged her forehead with the heel of her hand. ‘Talk about homing pigeons, you have phoned Caroline to check he hasn't gone home, haven't you?’

  Poppy shook her head numbly. In all the panic she had completely forgotten. How stupid. If Cloud was going to go anywhere, surely it would be Riverdale?

  Sam passed her the phone and as Poppy dialled she felt a tiny glimmer of hope flare in her heart. Caroline answered on the fourth ring.

  ‘It's me,’ Poppy gabbled. ‘Is Cloud with you?’

  The glimmer of hope was snuffed out like a candle the second she heard Caroline's sharp intake of breath.

  ‘What do you mean is Cloud here? He's with you, isn't he? What's happened, Poppy?’

  Poppy looked at Scarlett, Sam and Sarah's expectant faces and shook her head. She held the phone close to her ear.

  ‘It's a long story.’

  They set off after lunch, Poppy on Rosie, Scarlett riding Blaze and Sam on Star. Poppy rode ahead, her eyes swivelling left and right as she scanned the horizon for Cloud. Rosie, who was infamous at Redhall for being highly temperamental, had picked up on her mood and she walked meekly as they rode up the dusty track, through the farmyard and into the field of barley.

  Poppy's thoughts slipped back to the day Cloud had arrived at Riverdale in Bella's horsebox, his coat matted with blood and his ribs standing out like the wooden bars of a xylophone. She had promised him then that she would always look out for him. And she had broken that promise. It was unforgivable.

  The tight ball of fear in Poppy's stomach was morphing into a knot of anger, directed solely at the shadowy figure who'd let her beloved pony out of his stable and in doing so had broken her heart. Life without Cloud didn't bear thinking about. She kicked Rosie into a canter without even telling the others and soon she was crouched over the roan mare's neck as they thundered through the barley.

  By the time Scarlett and Sam caught up with her at the top of the hill Poppy had made up her mind.

  ‘I'm going to go and have it out with Angela Snell,’ she said.

  Sam looked at her in consternation. ‘We don't know she's behind all this.’

  Scarlett gave him a scathing look. ‘She has the motive, the means and the know-how. And anyway, who else could it be?’

  ‘She knew about the strangles,’ Poppy reminded Sam.

  ‘I know, but -’

  But Poppy didn't hear any more. She had already turned Rosie towards Claydon Manor.

  Angela Snell was strapping a big chestnut thoroughbred when they clattered into the yard. She greeted them with a steely gaze.

  ‘I hope for all your sakes that Georgia was right when she said there's no strangles at Redhall. Otherwise you'll be hearing from our solicitors.’

  Poppy jumped off Rosie and marched over to Angela. ‘Our horses are perfectly healthy. Who told you the yard was on shutdown?’

  Angela frowned. ‘I had an email.’

  ‘I need you to show me,’ Poppy said, handing Rosie's reins to Scarlett. She eyed Angela defiantly, challenging her to refuse. Angela nodded slightly.

  ‘Follow me.’

  She beckoned Poppy inside the airy office next to the tack room, flipped open an expensive-looking laptop and opened her email account.

  ‘It was sent the day before yesterday,’ Angela said, pointing to the screen. ‘There's no name on it.’

  Poppy read the brief email over her shoulder:

  ‘WARNING: A case of highly-infectious strangles has been diagnosed at Redhall Manor Equestrian Centre. Please help everyone keep their horses safe and spread the word. Redhall is a no-go area.'

  Poppy checked the sender's address. It was a Hotmail account she didn't recognise.

  ‘Probably the same account used to email the Herald.’ She glared at Angela Snell. ‘And you didn't bother checking this was true before you started telling people Redhall was on shutdo
wn? What if someone was spreading lies about Claydon Manor? How would you feel?’

  ‘Alright, you've made your point. Anyway, I only mentioned it to Georgia. I've been down in Cornwall with my parents. I didn't get back until nine.’

  ‘Nine last night?’ Poppy said sharply, thinking of Cloud.

  Angela gave her a black look. ‘No, nine this morning. I decided to stay the night. Why?’

  Poppy felt her throat constrict. ‘Someone let my pony out of his stable at Redhall last night. He escaped onto the moor. We've been looking for him all day.’

  Angela studied Poppy's face. ‘That's tough, and I'm very sorry. But if you think I'd stoop so low you are very wrong. Redhall might be in competition with Claydon but I never play dirty. It's not my style.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Poppy lay in bed staring at the ceiling. In the bed beside her Scarlett's breathing grew slow and regular. Once she knew her best friend was definitely asleep she flung back the duvet, pulled on thick socks, jeans and a fleece and slipped out of the room. After less than a week at Redhall she was already familiar with the creaky floorboards and she stepped over them lightly and headed down the stairs, her hand trailing down the polished mahogany banister. In the kitchen she made herself a cup of tea and carried it carefully out into the yard. The moon was full and heavy and it gleamed in the sky like an illustration in a children's storybook. Blaze's chestnut head appeared over her stable door and she whinnied when she saw Poppy.

  ‘Shush, you'll wake the others,’ Poppy said. She found a couple of pony nuts in the pocket of her jeans and held out her palm. Blaze whickered her thanks and Poppy laid her head against the mare's soft head. ‘Oh Blaze, do you think he'll be OK?’

  Blaze regarded Poppy with limpid eyes. Poppy gave her one last stroke and headed for Cloud's empty stable. She leant on the door, her chin resting on her folded arms. Scott had mucked out while they'd been on the moor. He'd even filled the hayrack and water buckets. She slid the bolt across and tugged the door open. Moonlight flooded into the empty stable. Poppy left the door open wide and sat down in the straw, her hands clasped around her mug of tea. She wondered where Cloud was, what he was doing. Closing her eyes, she pictured his face, as familiar to her as her own. She literally could not bear the thought that she would never see him again.