Strangers at the Stables

by Michelle Bates

  “Something about this?” Tom held up the diary. “Today’s page is missing. It’s been torn out.”

  “Maybe someone tore it out by mistake,” she said, looking away rather too quickly.

  “Well, we need to try and work out the bookings pretty fast,” Rosie said frostily, “or we won’t be ready for the day.”

  “Let me see then,” said Vanessa. “I might be able to remember. Give me ten minutes. I’ll sit down and try to put a list together. Yes, I think I’ll be able to do it.”

  “Great,” said Tom. “And that must be the vet now,” he said as a car pulled up in the yard.

  “The vet? What’s going on?” Vanessa asked.

  “Don’t you know Whisp is ill?” Rosie bridled, angrily striding off to meet the vet before Vanessa had a chance to answer. Tom hurried over to join her.

  “Where’s the patient then?” the vet asked in a friendly voice.

  “In here,” said Tom, drawing back the bolt to Whisp’s box.

  The two friends poked their heads anxiously over the stable door as the vet looked at Whisp’s leg.

  “Poor old lady. She’s taken a bit of a knock. There’s a small cut above the fetlock. It’s nothing serious, but she must rest.” He patted her neck. “I’ll bandage it up,” he said, setting to work. “And I’ll leave you some gamgee bandages to keep it clean. Make sure she isn’t ridden,” he said. And, as quickly as he had arrived, the vet put his car into reverse and backed out of the drive.

  “Here we are,” said Vanessa stepping out of the tack room and waving a piece of paper. “All sorted out?”

  “As sorted out as it can be for the moment anyway. Whisp is lame and she can’t be ridden – another cost the stable could have done without,” Rosie muttered. “But apart from that, things are just fine,” she said sarcastically.

  Vanessa smiled, seemingly ignoring Rosie’s words. “Well, I’ve put a list together,” she went on. “It’s all hacks today and no lessons, so you should be all right.”

  “We should be all right?” Tom asked questioningly.

  “Didn’t Sam tell you he was away today? He’s got things to sort out. And I’m off shopping,” said Vanessa. “I can trust you two to look after the yard though, can’t I?”

  “Sure,” Tom sighed, giving the list a cursory glance before handing it on to Rosie. Rosie glanced down the names. It was a lot of work. She shrugged her shoulders. Storm Cloud, Feather, Napoleon and Minstrel had to be ready in a quarter of an hour for the ten o’clock hack for experienced riders.

  “Are you listening everyone?” Rosie called as Vanessa drove out of the yard. “We haven’t got much time – fifteen minutes to get four horses ready – so let’s make it snappy.”

  By two minutes to ten, the four horses were tacked up and waiting, eager and ready for the hack.

  Ten o’clock came and no one arrived. They waited and waited. After all, people were sometimes late. But by ten thirty there was still no sign of anyone. Rosie was fuming.

  At eleven o’clock the riders eventually turned up for their hack. Rosie’s heart sank when she saw them. They were all novices, and none of the ponies waiting were novice mounts.

  “Is Blackjack ready?” Mrs. Taylor asked, surprised to see Jess lead Storm Cloud out from her stable for David to ride.

  “Er, I’m afraid we’re a little behind this morning,” said Rosie, playing for time. “We had a bit of an accident. Whisp’s lame and there seems to be a bit of a mix-up with mounts.”

  “Not another double booking!” Mrs. Taylor groaned. “This is getting ridiculous. Where’s Sam this morning? Does he know how often this keeps on happening?”

  “I should think so, he is to blame for it,’ Rosie muttered through gritted teeth. She turned back to Mrs. Taylor.

  “If you could give us another five minutes,” she said, smiling sweetly. “We’re almost there.”

  The regulars converged in the tack room and quickly decided what to do. Breathlessly, Jess led the unwanted ponies back to their stables while the others hurried to get the novice mounts ready.

  Rosie hurried off to Blackjack’s stable. There wasn’t enough time to give him a thorough grooming, a quick going-over would have to do. Dashing to collect his saddle, she was puzzled to find it wasn’t in its correct place.

  “Tom, have you seen Blackjack’s saddle?” she called across the yard.

  “No,” said Tom, swooping into the tack room and picking up Horace’s tack.

  “Jess, am I being stupid or something?” Rosie said turning to her friend. “I can’t find Blackjack’s saddle anywhere. It’s not on his peg.”

  The two friends hunted high and low, but it was nowhere to be found.

  “What are we going to do?” said Rosie. “We can’t put Blackjack in another saddle. It’ll rub him raw with his hollow back. That saddle was made especially for him. It cost a fortune. Nick will go spare if it’s lost.”

  “It’s got to be here somewhere,” said Jess. “A saddle can’t get mislaid!”

  “Come on you two. What are you up to?” Tom called into the tack room.

  “Blackjack’s saddle has disappeared,” Jess cried.

  “It can’t have done,” Tom said. “It was there yesterday. It can’t have vanished.”

  “Well it has,” said Rosie. “David will have to ride Horace. Who’s going to be the one to break the news to his mother?”

  “I will,” Tom groaned, when no one answered.

  Swiftly crossing the yard, he tried to explain things.

  “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Taylor, but I’m afraid that Blackjack’s saddle has gone missing. If David wouldn’t mind riding Horace.”

  “Where’s Blackjack?” the little boy wailed. “I always ride Blackjack. Where is he?” he cried. “I want to ride Blackjack!”

  “I’m sorry,” the mother apologized. “But David only has one riding lesson a week and he looks forward to it so much. He adores that pony.”

  “I do understand,” said Tom sympathetically, as Mrs. Taylor led David to the car. Tom was glad when they were gone. David’s mother had been very understanding, but Tom knew it was terribly unprofessional. She had every right to complain.

  Things got no better as the day progressed. Vanessa’s list turned out to be worse than no list at all. There were mix-ups everywhere. Pupils booked in for private lessons were down for hacks, horses had been double-booked, rides had been mysteriously cancelled. The day ended up a catalogue of disasters. As the last hack drew to a close and the horses were bolted into their stables with their evening feeds, Rosie breathed a sigh of relief. She hoped she would never have another day like it.

  Despondently, the Sandy Lane friends met in the tack room. They still hadn’t found Blackjack’s saddle. If it didn’t turn up by the morning, they’d have to order another one. They couldn’t have him missing lessons.

  They counted their takings, which were lower than usual for the third day in a row. Rosie didn’t like to voice her doubts but the sooner Nick and Sarah got back the better, as far as she was concerned.

  Three days had passed since the dreadful ride over the cross-country before Rosie finally plucked up courage to call the Tentenden office. She wanted to find out which riders Sam had actually entered on the team. He couldn’t drop her now, could he? Phoning from the tack room, she felt strangely nervous.

  “Hello...yes...er...I wonder if you can help me,” she said nervously, as she slotted her money into the pay phone.

  “I hope so,” a voice answered.

  Rosie swallowed hard. “I just wanted to check the names on the entry form for Sandy Lane Stables.”

  “Sure, hang on a minute,” the voice at the other end answered.

  Rosie waited patiently, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. The phone was eating her change. It seemed ages before the voice returned.

  “What was the name again?” asked the voice.

  “Sandy Lane.” Rosie took a deep breath.

  “I’m afraid I don’t
seem to have an entry for that name.”

  “What?” Rosie gulped. “Are you quite sure?”

  “Positive,” the voice answered quickly. “There’s nothing here under Sandy Lane. I’ve gone through them all.”

  “But the form was posted three days ago. It should be with you by now.”

  “Well I don’t have it.”

  “But what can we do?” Rosie said quietly.

  “There’s not a lot you can do,” the voice answered sympathetically. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid it’s too late to send in another one. You’ll just have to apply earlier next year.”

  As Rosie put the phone down, her head was swimming. She had to sit down for a few moments for it all to sink in. What had happened? Was it lost in the post? Or...a dreadful thought dawned on Rosie. Maybe Sam hadn’t posted it after all.

  Disappointment turned to rage. What had he done with it? No Tentenden Team Chase for any of them this year! Well, Sam couldn’t wriggle out of this one that easily.

  Rushing out of the tack room, she called all of her friends over.

  “You’re never going to believe this,” she spluttered. “Who do you think I’ve just phoned?”

  Everyone looked blankly at her.

  “The Tentenden Office, that’s who. And they’ve no record of our entry,” Rosie shouted. “They say they’ve never received it,” she said triumphantly. “And now we can’t enter. It’s too late.”

  “What?” Tom jumped to his feet. “There must be some kind of mistake.”

  “The only mistake was letting Sam post the entry form for us!” Rosie snapped.

  “I think we’d better go and find Sam,” Tom said getting up quietly. “See what he has to say. Come on everyone.”

  The team trooped out of the tack room and hurried over to the cottage. Four faces waited for Sam to appear as Tom knocked on the back door.

  “Hello, well it’s the whole team,” Sam said, smiling as he came to the door. “What do you want?”

  Rosie stepped to the front of her friends and, before Tom could stop her, the words had spilled out in full torrent.

  “You never sent it did you?” she shouted angrily. “The Tentenden form...they’ve never received it. All you had to do was post it. I’m going to phone Nick,” she yelled, her voice getting louder and louder.

  “Now, hold on a minute, Rosie,” said Sam. “What are you talking about? Of course I posted the form,” he said smoothly. “Do you mean to say they haven’t received it? Look I’ll give them a ring now and clear things up,” he said in a charming voice. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  “Rosie, what do you think you’re playing at?” Tom said angrily, as Sam walked back into the cottage. “You can’t go round making accusations till we find out more. You must calm down.”

  Rosie didn’t answer him.

  Impatiently, everyone stood around waiting until, moments later, Sam appeared.

  “It seems Rosie’s right,” he said. “They never received the form. It must have got lost in the post. I explained the situation and said how hard we’d all been working, but they’ve already sorted out starting times. They just wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry. I thought I’d be able to pull a few strings.”

  Rosie’s face was black as thunder as she listened to Sam’s words. Before he had a chance to finish, she had turned on her heels and was striding off towards Pepper’s stable. Tom hurried to catch her up.

  “Lost in the post – what rubbish,” she muttered, angrily. “All he had to do was put it in a post box and he couldn’t even manage that.”

  “Look Rosie, we’re all disappointed,” Tom said, grabbing her arm. “But I’m sure Sam wouldn’t say he’d posted the form if he hadn’t.”

  “Why not?” Rosie shrugged Tom off angrily. “How do we know what lies he’s been telling to cover his mistakes. They’re useless...so inefficient. We’ve got to phone Nick and Sarah and tell them what a mess things are in here. School starts on Monday – Sam and Vanessa won’t even have us to help them then. Nick and Sarah might not even have a Sandy Lane to come back to if we leave it any longer!”

  “Oh come on,” said Tom, trying to get her to listen to him as she stomped across the gravel. “Aren’t you just being a little over-dramatic?”

  “No,” said Rosie determinedly. “I don’t care what you say. My mind’s made up. I’m phoning them. You may not care, but I’d set my heart on Tentenden.”

  “We’d all set our hearts on Tentenden, Rosie, but if we’re not entered, there’s nothing we can do about it,” Tom snapped. “I’m going to be setting off for home in a minute. Have you nearly finished here?”

  “Yes,” Rosie said, her jaw jutting out defiantly. “I’ll just go round the yard once more and then I’ll be off too. See you tomorrow Tom.”

  “See you tomorrow,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders as he walked over to his bike.

  All was quiet as Tom cycled out of the yard. Rosie felt a shiver run down her spine. It was creepy at the stables when there was no one else about. Shadows lurked everywhere. She must get Nick and Sarah’s phone number from the notice board before she went home. Groping along the wall in the inky blackness of the tack room, she fumbled for the light switch.

  It was very dark. Something brushed against her legs. She screamed as she flicked on the light switch to find Ebony looking up at her reproachfully.

  “Silly dog,” she said breathing a sigh of relief. “I thought you were someone else.”

  Leaning across to the notice board, she scrabbled around for the scrap of paper...taxi cards, old farriers bills, a raffle ticket. It must be here somewhere. She’d seen it only yesterday. Pulling aside each of the pieces of paper, she started to panic. Where was it? She checked the floor, the desk, the appointments book. Her heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t there. It had gone. There was no doubting it, Nick and Sarah’s number had disappeared. It had vanished into thin air!

  8

  STARTLING NEWS

  Rosie’s head was still reeling from shock when she got home that evening. Someone must have removed that piece of paper. Someone who didn’t want her phoning Nick and Sarah and telling them about all the mishaps at Sandy Lane. And Rosie could only think of one person who that might be...Sam!

  She wanted to phone Tom immediately and tell him about the missing number but she couldn’t bring herself to pick up the receiver – not when he already thought she was overreacting anyway. What could she do? Rosie thought carefully. There was only one other person who might know the number...Beth. After all, Beth had phoned Nick and Sarah after her accident.

  Rosie made a mental note to ring her for the number in the morning. Rosie started to feel a whole lot better once she had made up her mind what to do. All right, so they had decided not to bother Nick and Sarah. But this was different. Sandy Lane was going downhill, and if she didn’t do something about it, no one else would. It was only as Rosie undressed for bed that she realized how tired she was. She had been working so hard at the stables, that she had no difficulty in falling asleep that night.

  When she awoke the next morning and looked at her bedside clock, she realized she had been asleep for ages. It was half past eight. Half past eight. She’d slept for ten solid hours. All thoughts of phoning Beth flew out of her mind as she hurried to get to the stables.

  “Mum, Mum,” she cried. “I’m late. Could you give me a lift to the stables? Please? Just this once?”

  “I gave you a lift last week, Rosie,” Mrs. Edwards groaned. “I don’t want to make a habit of it...OK then,” she sighed, seeing Rosie’s despondent face. “Grab your things. I’ve got to go into Colcott anyway. I’ll drop you there on the way.”

  Rosie waited patiently by the door, willing her mother to hurry up. At last Mrs. Edwards was ready. Rosie felt subdued as she did up her seat belt and gazed out of the window at the passing traffic. Her mother seemed to realize she didn’t want to talk, and the journey passed silently.

  “Thanks Mum.” Rosie smiled weakly as
she jumped out of the car at the bottom of Sandy Lane and walked up the drive. As she reached the corner of the yard, she was surprised to see everyone gathered in a group around Sam who was reading aloud from a piece of paper. Rosie just caught the end of what he was saying and the words froze her to the spot.

  “...so please go ahead and sell Pepper for me.”

  Rosie approached the group.

  “What’s going on?” she said frostily, her heart beating faster as she saw Kate’s tear-stained face.

  “Rosie. It’s too awful for words,” Kate burst out.

  “Nick’s selling Pepper. Sam got the letter this morning. Sandy Lane desperately needs the money and someone’s offered a good price for him,” Kate wailed.

  “What!” Rosie cried. She felt the words screaming in her head – But he can’t, he wouldn’t, not Pepper. Instead, she found herself answering in a calm and reasonable manner.

  “That can’t be right. Nick would never sell Pepper,” she said. “He was one of their first ponies.”

  “It’s true, Rosie,” said Tom. “They have to. Nick and Sarah need the money. I can’t quite believe it myself but...”

  “But Nick doesn’t care about money,” Rosie interrupted coldly.

  “No,” said Tom softly, handing her the letter. “Not normally, but Sandy Lane hasn’t been doing too well lately and there are vet’s bills and fodder bills to pay and then there’s all the extra expenses like the flight tickets. Not forgetting that Blackjack’s saddle alone is going to cost two weeks’ earnings. It’s all there in the letter.”

  “When’s he going then?” Rosie asked woodenly.

  “Next Friday,” Sam interrupted.

  “Next Friday.” Rosie repeated the words quietly. “But that’s so soon.”

  Rosie turned away clutching the letter. She felt a lump rising in her throat, almost choking her. Nick had tried to justify his reasons, explained about the endless bills, the reduced takings, Blackjack’s saddle. The list went on and on. It was all very fair, but as Rosie read it over and over, the words seemed to get fainter and fainter. It all seemed so unreal.

  “Well, work as usual,” Tom said. “Try not to think about it everyone.”