Moonlight: Star of the Show

by Belinda Rapley

  She scooted back and they all huddled round to see the result. It wasn’t easy to see in the gloom of the stable and it was a bit blurry because Mia’s hand had been shaking. She’d taken it at an angle, and most of what was visible of the pony was covered in a huge, lightweight summer rug. Mia looked disappointed for a second, then saw, in among the muddle of human legs, a pony’s back leg. It was an off hind. And it was white. They all peered closely in turn at the photo of Moonlight stuck into Mia’s notebook from the ‘Missing’ advert. It showed that his near hind was black, from his stifle to his hoof. But the off hind, his right back leg which Mia had just caught on camera, was all white.

  “It’s him!” Charlie whispered urgently, peering at the phone. “It’s Moonlight!”

  “Shh!” Alice hissed. “They’re still talking!”

  They strained their ears again. Then the horsebox roared into life.

  “Good luck at the Fratton Show,” Harry shouted over the engine noise. “He better win after all this effort.”

  “Oh, there’s no question about him being placed first. This one’s a proven winner. There’ll be no disguising that bit once we get there! All this will be worth it then, as Mark here picks up the red rosette,” Mark’s dad replied. The horsebox rolled down the drive and rumbled away into the early evening.

  The girls sank back in the straw, exhausted and elated at the same time. But as Rosie did a victory shuffle she spooked Colossus. Unsettled already by their presence and all the activity on the yard, he began to pace his stable. They all rushed to get out of his path and squeezed against the back wall, breathing silently, as Harry returned to the main yard, rustling something in his hands.

  “Easy money, Growler, easy money. Come on, boy – I don’t know why you’ve decided to guard Colossus’s box tonight.” He stopped and called the dog again. Growler whined and scratched at the stable door.

  “What’s in there, Growler?”

  Alice stopped breathing.

  “Are there rats? Shall we open the door for you to get the rats? Shall we?”

  Alice froze. She stole a glance at the others; they all looked exactly how she felt – petrified and in a state of total panic.

  “Too late now, Growler old boy. The rats can live until tomorrow.”

  The girls let out a collective long, silent breath.

  But outside Growler still refused to shift. If he didn’t disappear they’d never be able to escape without his alerting Harry. Harry hovered nearby, trying to coax the reluctant Growler away, while Colossus circled his box again. As they huddled in the corner, Colossus let out a loud, body-shaking neigh, which pierced the girls’ ears as they stood just behind him. Harry stomped over. Already stiff and uncomfortable, the girls squeezed as tightly as they could into the shadows, desperate not to get caught and have to face the wrath of Harry. If he discovered them now, he’d know they’d just witnessed him selling a stolen pony to Mark Tickle. And if he was mad at them earlier just for sniffing around the yard, who could tell how furious he’d get for this? The girls clung together. Rosie closed her eyes and crossed her legs, suddenly feeling desperate for a wee.

  At that precise moment Colossus lifted his tail. A strong smell preceded the droppings that followed the tail lifting, but in his excitement they shot out further than normal. Much further. Charlie and Alice silently ducked either side of the long grey tail. Rosie, left crouching between them, still had her eyes tight shut. There wasn’t the usual bounce on straw as the droppings landed, because they didn’t land on straw. Rosie’s eyes popped open. Mia just got her hand over Rosie’s mouth in time, covering it fiercely as Rosie threatened to squeal.

  Harry patted Colossus’s big neck. “Calm down, old boy. Come on, Growler. Dinner time.”

  Finally the big lurcher turned and followed his master at the mention of dinner, his claws tippy-tapping across the yard. Charlie and Alice doubled over, collapsing into the straw in fits of silent giggles as Rosie at last removed Mia’s hand from her mouth.

  “This is not funny!” she hissed dramatically. She moaned quietly as she looked at the droppings that had dribbled down her.

  While Rosie attempted to use some straw to wipe her T-shirt, she glanced up at Charlie and Alice who were weak from trying to stifle their laughter. Rosie bit her lip, trying to keep up her look of disgust until she saw Mia wiping away a tear, her face crinkling as she tried to control herself. Suddenly Mia’s laugh escaped as a snort and she waved her hand around, cracking up again, and Rosie finally dissolved into giggles too.

  After being silent and still for so long, and with Harry safely out of the way, they all felt hysterical and for a minute none of them could move. After sitting cramped up for ages, and suddenly exhausted after the all the tension had drained from her, Alice stood up and slowly stretched her achy legs. She had to turn away from Rosie to keep herself under control as the others started to unfold themselves too. Finally, when they were all standing up, they crept to the front of the stable, patting Colossus. The big grey had calmed down and he breathed warmly over them, snuffling across Alice’s hair.

  “So, what do we do now?” she asked quietly. “About Moonlight, I mean?”

  “First things first,” Charlie said, looking over the stable door. “We need to get out of here. Coast’s clear. Someone give me a leg-up?”

  Mia and Alice cupped their hands together, and when Charlie put her knee in they hauled her up, then she leaped down the other side, landing as quietly as possible, and quickly pulled back the bolts. Alice locked them after they’d all silently slunk out. Then they scooted across the yard and up the hill, bending low, until they reached the hedge with the bikes in it. Hauling them out, they jumped on and pedalled manically back to Blackberry Farm.

  “Can you believe it was Mark Tickle?” Alice asked, desperately trying to distract herself from the back-breaking pedalling on her bike which only had one gear, and the overpowering smell of horse dung wafting up from Rosie’s clothes. “I mean, I knew he was competitive, but stealing the top pony to secure a win? That’s just madness.”

  “It’s more than madness,” Charlie replied. “It’s total craziness. He can’t possibly think that he can turn up to the Fratton Show and ride Moonlight in the Cup. Everyone would recognise the piebald immediately, especially Poppy – he’d be mobbed! His plan would backfire before he’d even had a chance to jump the first fence.”

  “Charlie has a serious point,” Rosie puffed.

  “So why, exactly, did he go to the lengths of stealing a pony he’d never get away with competing on in the Cup?” Mia asked.

  Everyone fell into a thoughtful silence. After being so close to solving the case, they now felt as if it was crumbling around them. It just didn’t make sense. Mia braked abruptly, resting Will’s bike against her leg. She pulled out and flipped open her notebook, reading it back to herself. Suddenly her face lit up.

  “It’s here!” she squealed, pointing at her neat scribbles from the overheard snippets of conversation in the stable. “Mark’s dad gave us the clue himself!”

  They all crowded round as she continued.

  “He said there’d be no disguising Moonlight’s talent. That can only mean one thing, can’t it?”

  “What exactly?” Rosie asked, not quite following.

  “Well, if he can’t disguise the talent, he’ll have to disguise the pony!” Mia cried.

  “How will he do that?” Alice asked, getting off the bike with Rosie and collapsing on the grass verge for a proper breather. The others joined her and they became lost in thought as the warm evening sky turned dusky pink.

  “Boot polish?” Charlie finally suggested. “Something like that maybe?”

  “Yuk! Poor Moonlight!” Rosie exclaimed. “So, what are we going to do about it?”

  “We need to come up with a plan to expose Mark at the show, right in front of all the crowds. And Poppy,” Mia said thoughtfully.

  “Only not this evening,” Rosie said with a huge yawn.

&nb
sp; Now they’d worked out the hard part of who had stolen Moonlight and why, the next step would have to wait until they’d all had a good night’s sleep. Wearily, but with a glow of triumph as warm as the sinking sun, they picked up the bikes and started to pedal the rest of the way back to Blackberry Farm.

  AS much as Alice enjoyed doing lots of detective work, she was secretly relieved the next morning that she was free to do her own thing for a bit. The Fratton Show was drawing ever closer and she still hadn’t schooled Scout. She’d got up extra early to go to Blackberry Farm. Charlie had said she’d do the same, only she overslept, and leaned out of her bedroom window to tell Alice she’d catch her up.

  Scout was waiting for Alice as always by the paddock fence and whickered softly as she cycled into the yard. The other ponies wandered over to the gate, and Alice slipped on Scout’s and Wish’s headcollars and led them both in before heading back for Pirate and Dancer. After she’d put them in their stables she quickly mixed their small feeds while Dancer kicked her stable door demandingly, the deep whicker getting louder and louder as Rosie appeared sleepily from the farm door and carried over her feed bucket.

  After the ponies had finished eating, Rosie and Alice tied Dancer and Scout up outside their stables in the cool, early morning sun. While Rosie faffed about sorting through her grooming kit, Alice gave Scout a thorough brushing until his dappled grey coat shone. Scout nibbled and pulled at his haynet and every now and again he turned his head, watching Alice with his soft, friendly dark eyes. He stood solidly while she brushed all around his legs, and as she lightly pulled his feathers, he lifted each hoof in turn for her to pick out.

  Then she decided to tidy his mane, backcombing it and gently pulling out the longer strands until it was shorter and all the same length, making it easier to plait. Scout held his head low, so that she could reach all the way up to his ears, his eyes half closed and his lower lip drooping.

  Once she’d finished and was happy with his neatly hanging mane (apart from the bit by his ears, where she’d got carried away and it was sticking upright), Scout nudged her arm and she found a carrot for him in her pocket. He lifted one front hoof and waved it as she held the carrot out to him. His soft lips hoovered it up, and he crunched noisily and happily while she went to fetch his tack.

  Mia and Charlie had arrived at the yard by then, and they joined Alice and Rosie as they headed to the well-worn track in the small schooling paddock. After they had worked the ponies in, Alice turned Scout towards one of the pairs of faded wooden jump wings with the flaking cross poles that was set up in the middle of the paddock. Scout felt confident and strong in Alice’s hands going into the fence. She softened her reins as they got to it and he cleared it easily.

  While Mia walked Wish to one side (“I’ll judge your jumping,” she’d announced to the others before turning her face towards the sun and closing her eyes), the rest of them slid off their ponies and mapped out a course as they hauled their collection of rickety poles and barrels about the field, building an upright, spread and double before taking it in turns to jump round. Pirate went first and flew each fence, rattling them but somehow leaving them all standing.

  Next up was Dancer, who approached each fence at a snail’s pace, eyeing them suspiciously even though she’d seen them a hundred times before. Nothing Rosie did could make her go any faster. She slowed on the way to the first fence, then launched herself over. Rosie collapsed on her neck, giggling and heading vaguely for the next jump.

  Despite Charlie and Alice yelling “Legs!” at the top of their voices, Rosie was still giggling too much to use them effectively. Dancer cat-leaped the next fence then ground to a halt in front of the third. Rosie sank in the saddle dramatically. While Alice and Charlie groaned, Rosie just shook her head.

  “It’s not my fault – Dancer just isn’t built to jump.” She shrugged good-humouredly, joining Mia and letting her reins go to the buckle end. Dancer dropped her head immediately with a snort before ravenously starting to crop the patchy grass in the dusty field.

  As Mia rolled up her short sleeves to get a better tan, Alice set off around the course. Scout bounded into canter from walk and bounced forward over the dry summer grass, picking up neatly at each fence and jumping carefully, his ears pricked as he kept looking for the next one. Maybe all their hacking had freshened him up, Alice thought happily as they soared clean over the small triple bar.

  “And the winner of the Blackberry Farm Cup is Alice Hathaway riding Scout!” Rosie joked through coned hands.

  Alice laughed as Scout put in a series of high-spirited bucks. If only, she wished for the hundredth time, she could feel as relaxed in the show ring as she did in the field.

  “Then, Scout,” she whispered as her pony’s grey ear flickered back and forward at the sound of her voice, “we might have a chance in the real thing, I’m sure of it!”

  Over the next couple of days they concentrated on getting ready for the show. Mia spent hours on Wish’s appearance and practising her show-ring routine. Wish walked, trotted and cantered neatly in figures of eight with her neck arched gracefully. Her extended trot was a show-stopper and Mia practised that most of all, although she knew that Wish saved her best for when she had an audience. The sound of the crowd ‘ooh’-ing in awe as the palomino mare flashed across the centre of the ring with a combination of power and elegance, her hoofs flicking out magnificently, elevated her to another level. Mia leaned down and hugged Wish. She’d worked hard to get her spot on, but she knew how lucky she was to have found a pony as talented as Wish, one that loved showing off to the crowd and the judge as much as she did. Charlie did nothing different from normal, just sat quietly and effortlessly as Pirate spun and bucked and charged about the schooling ring, while Rosie tried and failed to persuade Dancer to leave the ground from any pace other than a virtual standstill.

  Alice schooled Scout on the flat and over some show jumps, and he was accurate, fast and responsive. Alice felt completely in tune with him and she was enjoying every second. She knew that jumping was his favourite thing, and since she’d got him it had become hers too.

  “It’s just your nerves that stop you, Alice,” Charlie announced after they’d turned out their ponies in the warm, late afternoon sun, “I reckon it must be all those millions of eyes on you once you get in the ring that does it.”

  “Thanks for the reminder,” Alice groaned.

  As they wandered back to the yard they talked half about the classes they were entering and half about Moonlight. There was only one more day before the show, which was being held on the Sunday, and they still hadn’t come up with a plan of action over how to confront Mark. Panic was starting to set in.

  “We’ve got so much preparation to get through tomorrow with the ponies and the tack that we’re not going to have a spare second!” Rosie whined, at the idea of all the work she needed to do the next day as much as anything else.

  “But we can’t just leave it to chance on Sunday morning once we get to the show,” Charlie said.

  “No way,” Alice added, trying hard not to think about how ill she’d be feeling on the day. “I’ll be such a bag of nerves by then I won’t be able to think straight so we’ll have to get it sorted out before then.”

  “There’s only one thing for it,” Mia announced. “Rosie, if you agree, we’ll have to have a sleepover tomorrow night.”

  MIA, Charlie and Alice arrived at Blackberry Farm the next morning with their overnight bags and show kits, bubbling over with excitement about spending the night there. Rosie’s bedroom looked out across the paddocks, so they would be able to check on the ponies by the luminous light of the moon and the stars as they made their plans.

  After they’d bundled their bags in the cottage and hung up their clothes, they raced back to the stables and concentrated on getting ready for the following day. The yard was soon awash with suds as the girls tied their ponies outside their stables and shampooed them, getting drenched as the ponies whirled their tails roun
d after they’d been rinsed. They used a sweat scraper to squeakily squeeze off all the excess water from their ponies’ coats.

  After washing Pirate’s tail, Charlie put a tail bandage on to try to make the hairs at the top lie flat, rather than spiking out like a huge hedgehog. Then the girls led their ponies to a patch of grass to crop while they dried off in the sun, with Dancer getting behind Rosie and nudging her along each step so that they could get there faster. Every now and again Scout stopped eating, and while Alice stroked his velveteen muzzle, prickly with whiskers, he rested his chin lightly on her shoulder, blinking his eyes.

  Once Scout was turned out wearing his light summer sheet to keep him as clean as possible, Alice headed into the depths of the gloomy tack room, filled with its familiar strong smell of leather and saddle soap. Finding a sponge, she started cleaning her tack, scrubbing Scout’s bit and all the metal buckles. She polished the leather on her saddle until it shone.

  “Alice, you do realise that if you carry on like that you’ll make the seat so slippery”, Charlie pointed out, “that you’ll slide off it after just one jump!”

  This sent Alice into another spasm of nerves, but although they all offered various opinions, no one actually knew how to scuff up the leather once it had been polished so Alice just added it to the list of things to worry about the next day.

  After they’d finished tack-cleaning and had given the ponies their small evening feed Alice gave Scout strict instructions not to get any grass stains on his beautifully clean and sparkling grey coat.

  They yanked off their jodhpur boots, leaving piles of straw that fell out of them by the mat before running through the open back door of the farmhouse, into the large, cluttered kitchen. The smell of warm, fresh bread filled their noses. They scraped out the chairs and flopped at the big, scarred wooden kitchen table moaning about their aching arms after all that tack-cleaning as they cut huge chunks of the bread and buttered it haphazardly.