Georgia gritted her teeth in frustration, trying to swallow her tears. Lexie had really got a hold over Emma and seemed determined to drive Georgia and her best friend apart!
Georgia spun up the driveway to Redgrove as quickly as she could to be greeted with a whicker of concern by Lily. Abandoning her bike on the yard, Georgia sprinted across the paddocks and flung her arms around the little palomino mare. Snuffling into her mane and sighing deeply, she felt instantly comforted. She decided to take Lily for a walk to clear her head. If nothing else, it would fill the time, but she was pretty sure it would make her feel better too. She didn’t want to go home just yet – not when her mum would only question her reddened eyes and pale face.
Clinging to Lily’s neck for support, with Pip bounding ahead, Georgia stumbled down the track towards the long meadow at the bottom of Redgrove. From there a meandering path took them along the edge of the woods bordering the Colemans’ land.
Georgia was so engrossed in her thoughts that she was startled when Lily suddenly stopped and gave a nervous snort. Pip stopped as well, several yards ahead, her hackles rising as she gave a low growl.
“Come on, Lily,” Georgia said, looking around. “There’s nothing there.”
Tugging on Lily’s lead rope, she moved them forwards over the brow of the hill. Lily danced from side to side, her eyes fixated on the activity in the bottom valley.
Georgia squinted into the fading evening light. She’d been wrong; there was something there – she could see six or seven men in the valley, all in suits and all wearing wellies that looked as though they’d never seen a speck of mud before.
Hiding herself as best as she could, Georgia strained to hear what was going on. It looked like they were measuring the field, walking in a line with some sort of tape. One of the men was holding an official-looking clipboard. But this was the Colemans’ land, Georgia was sure of it. What were they doing? She felt a growing sense of unease as one of the men glanced up in her direction. He shouted something that Georgia couldn’t quite hear, and then the men hurried back to a couple of waiting cars. She felt sure she’d seen one of the cars before and then she remembered the sleek black saloon parked across the Colemans’ farm drive.
Hurrying back to the yard as darkness enveloped them, she texted Dan with shaky hands, asking if he was at home.
“No, no one told me anything about it,” Mr Coleman said angrily. He was sitting at the kitchen table, the strain of recent events clearly evident on his face, the dark rings under his eyes proof that it was keeping him awake at night.
Dan was standing by the ancient Aga, mindlessly stirring something that smelled like it was burning. “It must have been those agents from the other day, measuring up,” he said. His dad scowled and began sifting through the piles of letters on the table, as though he was going to find a solution among the paperwork.
Dan took hold of Georgia’s arm and steered her towards the living room. Their collie, Hattie yawned and blinked as she uncurled herself from the sofa. “We’re in trouble, Georgia,” he said, his voice low. He paused, absentmindedly stroking Hattie. “We’ve had an anonymous complaint – someone saying Dad doesn’t look after his cows properly.” The words caught in his throat.
“What?!” Georgia was startled. “But that’s rubbish!”
“Of course it is.” Dan put a finger to his lips and gestured towards the door. “But they’ve got a pretty good campaign going, and mud sticks. They’re threatening to tell the papers. We think that’s the reason no one’s been coming to the shop. Reputation’s everything and what with sales falling and the opening of the new supermarket, we don’t stand a chance.”
Georgia’s heart sank. She couldn’t understand it. Mr Coleman loved his golden Jersey cows just like she loved Lily. It was as if someone was deliberately trying to sabotage the Colemans’ business. She couldn’t think who, or why, but something was definitely going on … she was sure of it…
The headline in the local newspaper the next day confirmed their worst fears.
“Local farm shop guilty of malpractice,” screamed the black letters above a picture of a forlorn looking black-and-white cow.
“Dad doesn’t even have black-and-white cows,” Dan said savagely, gathering up as many papers as he could and dropping them on the counter of the local newsagent. “Everyone knows ours are Jerseys.”
Mr Spencer, the owner, cleared his throat, looking sympathetic. “I can’t stop them putting out the papers, lad, I’m sorry,” he said in his gruff voice.
“It’s all right, Mr Spencer.” Dan was still adding newspapers to the growing pile on the counter. “I’ll buy all of these, if that’s OK.”
Mr Spencer began counting them. “Burn them, I would,” he said, in a fierce voice. “You know we all support your dad, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Dan said wearily, his shoulders slumping. “Tell that to all the other customers, though. It’s only the village buying from us now, and that’s not enough!”
Georgia thumbed through the pages. There was a big advert for the new supermarket in town and some sort of promotional bit about some development company Georgia didn’t really understand. The picture showed a suited man shaking hands with the supermarket manager, and his sneery smile and slicked-back hair were instantly familiar. It was one of the agents who had visited the farm the other evening!
She showed the photo to Dan as he scrabbled in his pockets for money. He studied it too, making a face when he realised who it was. “Delta Developments,” he said, frowning as he read the caption under the picture. “Well, I hope they never dare come back to our farm!”
Rain lashed down the sides of the horsebox as Melanie slowly manoeuvred her way through the narrow lanes. They were on there way to Janey’s yard on Saturday morning for the Team Challenge training session. Georgia stared gloomily out of the window ahead, her knees tucked up to her chest. The wipers were on full power, squeaking noisily as they struggled to keep up with the deluge. It was not a good day for jumping. Thank goodness for Janey’s indoor school and Mel’s warm stables. Lily had been cosy in her stable with a brand new woollen rug and a full hay net when they had left.
Harry’s horsebox was parked up by the school as they pulled into Janey’s yard. His mum, head to toe in oilskins, rain dripping from her wide-brimmed hat, was scurrying around the lorry, getting Hector’s tack together. Georgia caught sight of Harry sitting in the cab, feet on the dashboard, computer game on his lap, and a Jack Russell puppy curled up beside him.
“Yuck,” Georgia said out loud as he smirked at her. He was just so spoilt!
A few minutes later, Georgia was warming up Wilson in the outdoor school, her long riding mac already drenched and heavy. She was concentrating so hard on getting the bay pony to go forwards against the driving wind that she nearly didn’t notice the figure trotting a wobbly figure-of-eight next to her. The two horses almost collided as they changed rein. It was River.
“Watch out, Lexie!” Georgia cried.
Wilson came to an abrupt halt as the appaloosa pony spooked slightly to the side. The rider pulled back her hood. It was Emma.
“Em!” Georgia cried. “What are you doing here?”
Emma brought River to a standstill. She looked defensive, but scared, sitting rigidly in the saddle, her hands clenched tightly on the reins.
“Emma?” Georgia asked curiously. “Are you all right? What’s going on?”
“Lexie’s ill,” Emma said, her voice barely carrying above the wind and rain. “She’s in the horsebox, feeling sick. I said I’d warm River up.”
Georgia opened her mouth and then closed it again. Don’t get involved, she told herself firmly. It seemed like a crazy plan to her, but she’d learned by now that Emma was super-defensive when it came to her new friend.
Training didn’t go well that morning. Georgia couldn’t concentrate on riding at all. She was worried about Dan’s farm and Emma’s inept experience on River had had a knock-on effect on her. Wilson was s
uch a kind-hearted pony, but even he couldn’t disguise Georgia’s fumbling mistakes. She could barely bring herself to look at Melanie when they rode to the side.
She must be so disappointed, Georgia thought. Sophie would never ride like this. I’m letting Wilson down.
As Georgia knocked down yet another grid pole, Janey took her aside. “I don’t think it’s your day, Georgia,” she said, her voice firm. “Why don’t you get some more practice in at home first.”
Georgia looked at Melanie, who nodded, her face slightly downcast. Georgia wanted to cry. Even worse, Emma only gave her a half-smile as she took River back to the horsebox with Lexie, who had finally appeared but not said a word all session.
“It’s only you that’s right in my life now,” Georgia said morosely as she rugged Lily up for the evening. They had just enjoyed a walk down to the bottom meadow where Georgia had sat on an upturned tree stump for what seemed like hours and told the little pony her worries.
It made Georgia feel better looking around her. It was the first place she and Lily had ridden together, before they knew the mare was in foal. She couldn’t decide what she most looking forward to, riding Lily again or meeting Lily’s newborn. She hoped the foal was palomino, just like her dam.
Leaning her cheek against Lily’s neck, breathing in the unmistakable smell, Georgia felt tears pricking her eyes. Not only was she losing Emma’s friendship, or at least that’s what it felt like, but she had the upset of seeing Dan growing more and more withdrawn as the rumours continued to circulate about the farm. And just to put the icing on the cake, she couldn’t ride properly and was letting Sophie and Wilson down. It was probably only going to be a matter of time before Janey replaced her. Georgia sighed.
“Oh, Lily,” she said. “Whatever am I going to do?”
But Lily didn’t have an answer for her. All she could do was gently nudge her owner as Georgia kissed her good night and then reluctantly let herself out of the palomino’s stable.
The Colemans’ collie was still whining piteously when Georgia reached the farm early the next morning, following a panicked phone call from Dan. The urgency and horror in his voice had frightened Georgia, so she had begged her mum for a lift to get there faster. Georgia’s mum had taken one look at her daughter’s pale freckled face, and agreed immediately.
“What’s happened?” Georgia cried urgently as she jumped out of the car.
“First of all, poor Hattie cut herself on a barbed-wire fence early this morning,” said Dan, pointing at the bandage on the collie’s front right paw. He crouched in the entrance to the farm shop, hunched over his dog. “And that’s not the half of it.” His eyes were glassy with tears and he listlessly stroked Hattie who shivered and shivered beneath his hand.
“What else has happened?” Georgia said anxiously, looking in through the door to the farm shop. There was debris everywhere, shelves overturned, stock all over the place. Milk pooled on the floor. Mr Coleman was picking his way through the mess, flanked by Ben, who was shaking his head incredulously.
“We just found it like this,” said Dan. “Someone must have broken in.” He got to his feet and placed a comforting hand on his dad’s shoulder. “It’s so horrible, but it’s going to be OK, Dad. That’s what insurance is for.”
Mr Coleman looked up as he tried to right the till, which had been thrown to the ground. The despair in his face was all too plain to see. He ran a hand through his curly hair. “But it’s not going to be OK, Dan.” His voice broke with emotion.
Dan lifted his head at the tone in his dad’s voice. Mr Coleman sat down on one of the upturned milk churns that used to decorate the shop so cheerfully. “When the number of customers dropped and sales plummeted, the money stopped coming in but we still had costs to pay, overheads to meet, vet bills and the rest…” His voice trailed off. “I had to save money somewhere.”
Dan looked sick. “You stopped paying the insurance?”
“Yes,” said Mr Coleman, his head in his hands. “Don’t you see?” he said, his voice cracking. “We’re finished!”
“So what will happen, Mum?” Georgia had been silent most of the way home until they had turned into the drive. They had helped the Colemans as best as they could, leaving them in the kitchen with mugs of tea once they had attempted to salvage as much of the farm-shop stock as possible.
Ben had been on the phone begging the insurance company to consider their previous payments and help them out, but they wouldn’t budge.
Georgia had given Dan a big hug before she had left.
“I’ll come and see Lily soon,” he’d said, his voice quiet and sad. “I need a break from all this.”
Georgia’s mum switched off the ignition and turned to face her daughter. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” she said sadly. “When bad things happen to good people, it’s just not right.” She reached over and hugged Georgia, who clung to her for just a second. “Please come up to Redgrove with me, Mum,” she said in a muffled voice.
“Of course.” Mrs Black smiled. “I’m well overdue a visit to the expectant mother.”
“So they’ve put a bid in.” Dan was plaiting Lily’s mane as he spoke. It was after school one evening a few days later. He had barely said anything all day, which made his words all the more significant.
Georgia looked up from where she was brushing out Lily’s tail. “Who?” she asked, her heart sinking, knowing the answer. “Who’s put in a bid?”
“The agents from that company, Delta Developments,” Dan said bitterly. “They’re like vultures, moving in for the kill.” He patted Lily’s neck. “There’s no way Dad can refuse any offer now – the debts are too big, and the bank’s hounding him to accept.” He brushed away a tear as he spoke.
“But there must be something we can do,” said Georgia, but she knew they were just easy words.
Dan shook his head. “I love that farm, Georgia. Mum loved it. Gramps loved it. Dad loves it. Ben was going to take it over and I was going to help him.”
“Oh, Dan.” Georgia’s heart was breaking for him. But what exactly could she do or say to make it any better?
“Emma?” Georgia hadn’t spoken to her best friend properly for days now, other than small talk at school. They had both pretended nothing was wrong, but the atmosphere between them was really strained. It was the longest they had gone without hanging out, and Georgia had felt nervous as she cycled to the neat cul-de-sac in the smart end of the village, where two shiny sports cars sat in the drive.
“Hey, Georgia.” Emma was dressed for riding. “Dad’s just about to drop me over to Lexie’s.” She hesitated, and then added, “I’m sorry about Dan. I heard what happened.”
Georgia twisted her scarf in her fingers. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” she admitted. Then, trying to be cheerful, she asked, “Are you still enjoying riding at Seven Birches?”
Emma looked up. She seemed a little surprised by the question. “Yes, yes, I guess,” she said. Her voice wavered only slightly, but Georgia picked up on it immediately.
“Emma?”
“Don’t,” Emma said crossly. “I know you want me to come back to Redgrove but I wouldn’t have a pony like Herbie or River to ride there. OK, so sometimes it’s tough but…” She glanced behind her. “Anyway, that’s where Dad says I have to stay.”
“Your dad?” said Georgia. “But why?”
But Emma didn’t have a chance to answer as, at that moment, her father appeared, dressed as always in his grey pinstripe suit. He was talking into his mobile, in a hushed, lowered tone. “Listen,” he was saying, his voice quiet but angry. “This wasn’t what I advised…” Seeing the girls’ faces, he snapped the phone shut, smiling brightly. “Hello, Georgia,” he said, before turning to his daughter. “Ready to go riding, Emma?” he asked, sounding falsely cheerful.
“Sure am, Dad,” said Emma. “Are you staying to see Joe at the yard after dropping me?”
Her dad’s face clouded. “No,” he said. “Not this time. I’ve got some other bu
siness to attend to.”
Shrugging at Georgia, Emma climbed into the car. “See you at the Champs,” she said.
“But I—” Georgia opened her mouth to speak but Emma had already shut the passenger door. She stared after the car as it pulled away. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to her friend properly about any of the things going on at the moment. Every time she tried to, something else seemed to get in the way. Letting out a heavy sigh, Georgia wheeled her bike back down the road.
“So how about this trip to Wales, then?” Melanie asked.
The mood around the kitchen table at Redgrove Farm was sombre as Georgia sat down that evening. Sophie was back for the weekend and was sitting on the scrubbed wooden table, her hair a riot of blue and pink streaks. Her feet were clad in trendy sheepskin boots, kicking the air as she listened to the latest dramas in the village.
“Come on, Georgia,” said Sophie. “Let’s go and see Wilson before it gets dark.”
“Sure thing.” Georgia had felt slightly shy when she first saw Sophie but the older girl grabbed her hand now and they raced down to the stables.
“Wilson! Wilson!” Sophie cried, flinging her arms around her horse and burying her nose into his mane. The bay pony whickered in delight at seeing his young mistress. “He looks really well, Georgia.” She grinned. “And how are the Team Challenge practices going for the Autumn Champs?”
Georgia made a face. “Not great,” she said truthfully. “I’m letting Wilson down with my riding.”
“What are you talking about?” Sophie said, nudging her shoulder. “You’re the best rider I know!”
“That’s not exactly true,” Georgia said, but she blushed in pleasure at the compliment. Sophie tucked her arm in hers as Georgia told her about the last team practice and they wandered round to the next stable to greet Lily, who bustled over with Callie by her side.
The Palomino Pony Rides Out Page 5