The next morning, as promised, I rang Rosie. “I’m so sorry about yesterday,” I said. “I hope I didn’t spoil it for everyone else.”
“You didn’t spoil it,” said Rosie. “We were worried about you, that’s all. How – er…” She hesitated.
“How am I?” I said, almost laughing. “You’re allowed to ask, you know! I’m OK. Much better.”
“That’s brilliant!” She sounded really relieved.
“Listen, I’m going to the stables this afternoon,” I said, “and I wondered if you’d mind coming too? I want to give back the riding hat Mrs McAllister lent me yonks ago. And…” Now it was my turn to hesitate, “…and I want to say goodbye to the ponies.”
“Say goodbye?” said Rosie, sounding concerned again. “But you can carry on seeing them, can’t you? Lyndz, you know how much you love Bramble and the others!”
I was not going to cry. I was not. I swallowed hard and said, “Yes, I know. But if I can’t ride, going there will just make me feel sad. The ponies have lots of other people to love them and take care of them. They won’t miss me.”
“I bet they will—” began Rosie. But then she stopped herself and said, “Of course we’ll go with you. All of us. I’ll ring the others. The Sleepover Club sticks together through thick and thin!”
I was glad Rosie had said yes. If she and the others were with me, I’d have to hold myself together.
They turned up straight after lunch, Frankie and Kenny in one car, and Rosie and Fliss in another.
“I’ve persuaded Mum and Dad that we should have a big slap-up tea when we get back,” I said, showing off the carrier bag full of mini-rolls, muffins and Battenburg cake (my favourite!) that Dad had just lugged back from the supermarket.
“Lip-smackin’ good!” said Kenny in her best cowgirl voice. “Can we have a little something for the road?”
“No, you can’t!” laughed Dad, snatching the bag from me in the nick of time. “I’ll see you later, gang. Now, shoo!”
We walked to the stables, which didn’t take long. As we turned the corner into the lane, I could see that Bramble was on her own in one of Mr Brocklehurst’s fields.
“Do you want me to run and ask Mrs McAllister for the padlock key?” asked Rosie. She knew that the gates to all the fields are kept firmly locked.
I shook my head. “It’s a combination lock, this one,” I said, “and I know the number off by heart.”
“Go on, then,” said Rosie softly. “We’ll wait for you in the yard.”
So, while my friends headed on towards the stable buildings, I trudged over to the gate, and a minute later I was in the field.
Bramble lifted her head and came trotting to meet me. I’d brought some pony nuts, so I fished them out of my pocket.
“Hey, Bramble,” I said, holding out my hand for her. When she’d finished eating, I laid my cheek against her neck, drinking in the familiar smell of her beautiful clean coat. I felt hot tears trickle down my nose. Bramble stood there patiently, as if she understood.
“It isn’t that I don’t love you – you know that, huh?” I whispered, stroking her over and over. “You’re the best pony in the world, Bramble. And I’ve loved riding you. I just… can’t do it any more.” I lifted my head to see the kind brown eyes looking at me softly. “Other people will love you now,” I said. I kissed her nose. “Goodbye.”
By the time I got to the gate I could hardly see a thing. But I sniffed hard and swallowed back my tears, rubbing my sleeve roughly across my cheeks.
I heard gales of laughter coming from the yard. Trojan was standing tethered outside his stall, all tacked up and ready for a riding lesson. Lisa Bentham was standing beside him, trying to teach Fliss how to feed him a piece of carrot.
“Aiiieee! It tickles!” Fliss squealed, turning her head away and jigging from foot to foot, while Kenny, Frankie and Rosie collapsed in fits of giggles.
“Keep still, will you!” laughed Lisa. “You’ll spook him!”
It made me smile, too. But when the others saw me, their laughter faded.
“Can you watch Trojan for a moment, Lyndsey?” asked Lisa. “I need to have a word with Miranda.”
“No problem,” I said.
“Poor Lyndz!” said Frankie, rushing over as soon as Lisa had gone.
“No, I’m OK,” I insisted, shrugging her off. “Really. Thanks, Frankie.” The sight of my friends’ faces had made me realise what a downer I was putting on all our lives these days. “You know what, guys?” I said, giving Trojan a brisk pat and smiling round at them. “No more misery-guts Lyndz! I’m fed up with being gloomy and I’m pretty sure you must be, too. You don’t need to tiptoe round me any more. We’re the Sleepover Club! We should be having fun!”
“Too right!” said Frankie. “Yee-hah!”
“Now – I’ll just go and find Mrs McAllister and give her this,” I said, waving my riding hat. “And then it’s back to mine for a nosh-up!”
Rosie and Frankie cheered. Fliss was still wiping Trojan’s dribble off her hand. Kenny, meanwhile, was staring at something in the distance. “Hey,” she said, pointing towards Mr Brocklehurst’s field. “Is that pony allowed out?”
I turned my head. And stared. The gate of Bramble’s field was standing open. And there was Bramble, tail held high in excitement, trotting off down the lane that led out of the stables towards the road.
“But how—” I began. I was sure I’d fastened the gate as I left the field.
The next moment, an image flashed into my mind of Bramble trotting down the middle of the main road, while just round the bend, a car speeds towards her at sixty miles an hour, unable to see her, too late to brake…
“Noooo!” I screamed, setting off after her as fast as I could. “Bramble! Come back!”
But after a few steps I stopped. There was no way I could catch her. Desperate, I raced back to the yard. I thought of running to the office to tell Mrs McAllister, but every minute wasted was a minute longer that Bramble would be on the road, and in danger.
In that instant, I made a decision.
“Fliss! Untie Trojan’s reins!” I commanded. “Quick!”
Fumbling frantically, Fliss did as she was told. I jammed the riding hat I was still carrying on to my head and fastened the strap. Then I grabbed Trojan’s reins and put my hands on his back.
“Frankie, can you give me a leg-up?”
“Sure thing…”
A moment later I was in the saddle.
“Has she reached the end of the lane yet?” I said to the others. “Can you see which way she’s turning?”
“Uh, I can’t – oh, yes – she’s turning right,” said Rosie, who’d climbed on to the gate at the yard entrance to get a better view.
“OK,” I said, thinking quickly. “If I head across the fields I can try to cut her off at the bend in the road by the next village.” I squeezed my legs and directed Trojan towards the open gate. “Tell Mrs McAllister!” I yelled over my shoulder, as I pushed Trojan into a gallop.
I was vaguely aware of Frankie, Kenny and Fliss in a huddle in the yard, clutching one another in anxiety.
“Good luck, Lyndz!” I heard Kenny yell behind me.
And then I had to turn every ounce of my attention to Trojan. We were going to have to ride like the wind across Mr Brocklehurst’s farm. There were several fences between us and the far road, and with no time to lose there was only one thing we could do: jump them.
Later – much later – Rosie told me that Mrs McAllister had been furious when she’d found out what had happened.
“She was like a whole box of fireworks going off at once!” she said, her eyes wide at the memory. “She was tearing around, grabbing the collar and rope and her car keys, and all the time she kept shouting about who on earth could be stupid enough not to shut a gate, and about what she’d do when she got her hands on them. We were really scared she was going to beat you up or something!”
I was kind of glad I hadn’t been there at the time.
Where I was, I had no chance to bother about Mrs McAllister or anyone else.
Trojan was going at a cracking pace, faster than I’d ever ridden before in my life. He seemed to know it was an emergency, and that we were going to have to do some crazy things.
We got to the far side of Bramble’s field in no time. But here the fence was just too high and I had to rein Trojan in. Growling with frustration I turned him, and we headed off along the fence, looking for a way round or through.
At the north end of the field, the fence gave way to a hedge. It was fairly high, and I didn’t fancy trying it, but I couldn’t see any option.
“Come on, Trojan, we can do this,” I said, urging him on, letting him know that I was determined to jump, that I was confident.
It’s too high – it’s got to be too high, I thought as we drew nearer to the hedge. But we had to get to Bramble. I kept picturing her and that speeding car…Already we could be too late.
The next moment Trojan pushed off, his powerful hind legs underneath him. I leant forward, back straight, keeping my hands as light on the reins as I could manage.
Trojan powered through the air, his neck stretched forward. Then his forelegs uncurled to touch the ground. We’d done it – we had reached the other side!
I almost laughed with relief. But we weren’t done yet. We had to jump three more fences before we reached the village. Luckily, none of them were as high as the first hedge, and Trojan sailed over them like an old pro.
The village, Milton Hamlet, is like something on a holiday postcard, with rows of cottages and neat little gardens. What I must’ve looked like, clattering up the high street all flushed and anxious on a sweating pony, I’ve no idea – I probably spoiled the view!
I passed the church and the village shop, and caught sight of a woman in a blue body-warmer whom I’d seen at the stables once or twice, though I didn’t know her name. And there, not far from her, stood Bramble, snorting and frightened, but unscathed.
“Have you come looking for this one?” asked the woman. “She seems to know you.”
It was true. Bramble had stopped pacing and was staring at Trojan and me.
“She escaped from McAllister’s stables,” I said.
“Let’s get her off the road,” said the woman. “My front garden will do as a pen.” She pointed to a nearby cottage.
Hastily, I dismounted, and led Trojan towards Bramble. Then, using Trojan and me as a kind of ‘guide fence’ to stop Bramble from bolting back along the road, the woman managed to herd her into the little garden.
“Phew! Talk about a relief!” said the woman. “How on earth did she get out?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I was sure I’d shut the gate, but…”
My voice trailed off when I saw the severe look on the woman’s face. Then her expression softened and she said, “You won’t make that mistake again, I expect. I take it you knew what danger she was in?”
“Too right,” I said. I could hardly bear to think about it.
At that moment Mrs McAllister’s Land Rover roared into view. Seeing us, she pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the engine. I saw her sit for a minute staring at Bramble. It wasn’t until then that I realised how funny Bramble looked – standing with her head poking out over the garden gate, framed by a beautiful arch of creepers, as if she was just watching the world go by.
Mrs McAllister was still gripping the steering wheel. I saw her rest her forehead on her hands for a moment. Then she collected herself and got out, striding across to the woman in the blue body-warmer.
“Sandra,” said Mrs McAllister, “I really can’t thank you enough. I don’t know how this happened…”
“Thank goodness I spotted her,” said Sandra, giving Bramble’s neck an affectionate pat.
“And Lyndsey…” Mrs McAllister turned to me. “I must congratulate you on your quick thinking. And on your riding skills, young lady!”
Do you know what? I looked at Mrs McAllister… I looked at Trojan. And it was only then that it hit me what I’d done. I’d been sitting in that saddle. I’d got all the way from the stables to Milton Hamlet on a pony, and I’d even had to jump fences to do it!
“You’ve found your confidence again, I suspect?” said Mrs McAllister with a smile.
I grinned back. “Bramble found it for me.”
We both looked at my favourite pony. “We should get you home,” said Mrs McA, stroking Bramble’s nose.
Mrs McAllister went to the Land Rover and got out a headcollar and a lead rope. With Sandra’s help, she fastened the collar in place and attached the lead rope’s clip.
“Now, Lyndsey,” she said, turning to me. “Do you think you might be able to ride Trojan back to the stables, leading Bramble? If you’re at all unsure, I could drive back and fetch Lisa.”
“No, I’ll be fine,” I said firmly.
Riding on a road and leading another pony is not the easiest thing in the world but luckily I didn’t meet many cars – and those that did come along slowed right down as they passed. Bramble was as good as gold, and Trojan was on his best behaviour too.
When we turned into the lane that leads to the stables, a massive whoop went up, and I saw Rosie, Kenny, Frankie and Fliss bouncing up and down and waving frantically.
“You did it!” they squealed when I reached the yard.
I handed Bramble’s lead rope to Miranda, then dismounted and gave Lisa Trojan’s reins. “I’m sorry I borrowed him,” I said.
“That’s quite all right,” Lisa grinned. “I’m glad he made himself useful!”
Then my friends fell on me for a major group hug.
“Hey – Bramble had to resort to pretty desperate measures to get you riding again, didn’t she?” said Frankie.
“It’s a total mystery how it happened,” said Rosie. “I definitely saw you put the latch down as you came out of the field – I remember it really clearly, because I was worried about how upset you were.”
There’s a metal latch on the field gate that raises and lowers. Intelligent ponies like Bramble soon learn how to nudge it up with their noses, though. That’s why you need a padlock too.
“I must’ve forgotten to put the padlock on,” I said. “How stupid!”
“So it was you!”
I spun round. I hadn’t realised Mrs McAllister had got out of her Land Rover and was standing just behind me.
“Stupid is just the start of it,” she snapped, slamming the door shut. “How about reckless, irresponsible…” Suddenly she stopped, and let out a big sigh. “You know what could’ve happened. You must’ve been just as worried as me, Lyndsey, or you wouldn’t have shot off on Trojan like that. And I expect whatever you went through was punishment enough, eh?”
I nodded, biting my lip.
“Remind me, though,” said Mrs McAllister, “I must have a word with Mr Brocklehurst. He’ll need to be assured my pupils aren’t going to make a habit of careering across his fields with no warning.”
I undid the strap on my riding hat and pulled it off. “I’d come today to return this,” I said to Mrs McAllister, “and to tell you that I was giving up riding.”
“Oh, Lyndsey—”
“Don’t worry,” I broke in quickly. “I reckon I may have changed my mind.”
“Well, I won’t say it was all worthwhile, because putting Bramble’s life in danger was unforgivable,” said Mrs McA. “But at least something good has come out of it, hey?” She tapped my hat. “You’d like to hang on to this for a bit longer, I hope?”
“If that’s OK,” I said, and grinned.
When Mrs McAllister had gone back into her office, Rosie, Kenny, Frankie and Fliss clustered round me again.
“How did it feel?” asked Rosie. “I couldn’t believe it when you just jumped on Trojan right there and then and whizzed off. It was like something in a film!”
“You know what? It felt like the most natural thing in the world.” I shook my head, still hardly able to believe it. “Whatev
er the problem was before, it seems to have broken the jinx. I think everything’s going to be OK from here on.”
“As long as you remember to shut the gate!” laughed Kenny.
Can you imagine how much I’ve been teased about that since? I’ll never live it down, I reckon! It’s great to be able to laugh about something so scary, though – I think it stops me having nightmares about it.
Oh, blimey, look at us – still sitting here yakking, when Rosie’s brother must’ve finished his riding lesson ages ago. See – there’s Rosie’s mum’s car turning into the yard now. She’s come to pick him up.
“Rosie! Tell your mum we don’t need a lift! We can walk!”
Did she hear me, d’you reckon? Oh yes, she’s waving. There’s a sleepover tonight, you see – hosted by yours truly. That’s why we’ve all been hanging out at the stables this afternoon. We’re heading back to mine in a minute – Dad’s done one of his major cake raids on the supermarket again (sometimes he is way cool!). So I’d better dash or my brothers’ll scoff the lot before we get there. Catch you later!
Have you been invited to all these sleepovers?
The Sleepover Club Best Friends
The Sleepover Club TV Stars
The Sleepover Club Dance-off!
The Sleepover Club Hit the Beach!
The Sleepover Club Pet Detectives
The Sleepover Club Hey Baby!
The Sleepover Club Pony Passion
The Sleepover Club Trick or Treat
Coming soon…
The Sleepover Club Be My Valentine
The Sleepover Club Star Girls
The Sleepover Kit List
Sleeping bag
Pillow
Pyjamas or a nightdress
Slippers
Toothbrush, toothpaste, soap etc
Towel
Teddy
Your favourite pony magazine or story
Pony Passion Page 7