Rosie’s mum, dressed in paint-spattered overalls, her messy blonde hair tied back with a long, dangling rainbow-coloured scarf, wandered in and poured them some lemonade.
“Home made,” she announced proudly as she poured it, not noticing the girls grimacing as they took great gulps.
“Mum!” Rosie groaned. “I think you forgot to put any sugar in!”
Mrs Honeycott scratched her head with the small paintbrush she’d had tucked behind her ear.
“Did I?” she asked vaguely. “I must have been distracted.”
“I think you’re permanently distracted,” Rosie muttered as the other girls giggled between mouthfuls of bread.
“What was that, sweetheart?” Mrs Honeycott asked as she piled salad onto plates and placed them on the table.
“Nothing,” Rosie replied sweetly, before clocking the plates and frowning. “Er, haven’t you forgotten something else, Mum?”
Rosie started to sniff the air, then they all noticed smoke drifting from the ancient aga. Mr Honeycott appeared at the back door at the same moment and pulled off his wellies, shaking his head.
“You go and finish your painting,” he said, smiling broadly. “She’s always like this when she’s in the middle of a big project – you get used to it! I’ll dish up.”
Mrs Honeycott drifted off in the direction of her studio and Mr Honeycott rescued from the Aga the slightly burnt home-made pizza, piled high with fresh roasted vegetables that he’d grown. As he cut it into slices Beanie’s beady eyes watched his every move, hoping for a scrap to fall. Beanie positioned himself by Rosie, head on one side, as she and the others tucked in, talking through mouthfuls about the show. Will, Rosie’s older brother, rushed in, grabbed a slice of pizza then sat with Mr Honeycott discussing a problem with one of their tractors.
As soon as they’d finished the girls rushed up to Rosie’s bedroom and plumped down on the air beds that Rosie had blown up and piled with sleeping bags and pillows. The walls were covered with sketches and paintings that Mrs Honeycott had made of Dancer, and every available surface was covered with framed photos of Rosie’s strawberry roan mare. Rosie stroked the one by her bed, a close-up of Dancer’s broad, honest cobby chestnut face with its white blaze, before collapsing on her bed. She pulled out a tin from under it, filled with all sorts of sweets.
“I got them for our midnight feast,” she explained, chomping on some marshmallows and handing the tin round, “but there’s no way I’m going to be able to stay awake till then so we might as well eat them now.”
“You eat louder than Dancer!” Charlie joked before Rosie swung her pillow, laughing as it missed Charlie and clocked Alice on the side of her head. Charlie and Alice both started to retaliate before Mia coughed pointedly, calling them to order, just as the bedroom door was butted open and Pumpkin the ginger cat strolled in.
“Right,” Mia began, opening her notebook as the others stopped giggling and started to concentrate. They all studied the new clues:
Clue 9
Mystery person turns up at Harry Franklin’s to collect mystery pony (Moonlight).
Clue 10
Harry Franklin and the buyer discuss underhand goings-on.
Clue 11
Mystery person turns out to be Mark Tickle!!
Clue 12
Photo of white near hind. Matches Moonlight’s near hind!!
Clue 13
Mark has got this pony (Moonlight) to make sure he’ll win at the Fratton Show!!!
Clue 14
Mark’s dad says the pony in question is a proven winner.
Clue 15 – KEY CLUE
Mark’s dad mentions that he won’t be able to disguise the pony being a winner. Meaning? That he will be able to disguise the pony itself!!
Impressive, even if Mia had to say it herself. She hadn’t missed one single tiny detail as she’d scribbled away in Colossus’s gloomy stable.
“So,” Alice asked, wishing for the hundredth time that she could be just a teeny bit more like Mia, “what should we do at the show tomorrow?”
“Let’s just tell Mark as soon as he gets there that we know all about his plan and that it would be better for him to hand Moonlight over without any fuss,” Charlie suggested. “That’ll save lots of messing about.”
“But if we do that he might just keep Moonlight hidden in the lorry and drive straight off,” Mia said. “Then we won’t have the chance to catch him out.”
“Well, we all heard Mark’s dad as good as admitting when he was at Harry Franklin’s yard that he was planning to disguise Moonlight,” Alice replied. “If Mark’s going to use some kind of boot polish or dye to cover up the white bits, we need to figure out how we can get close enough to rub some of it off and prove in front of everyone that he’s a thief.”
“I’ve got it!” Charlie shouted as she jumped up, almost dislodging Pumpkin, who was curled at the end of Rosie’s bed. “We throw a bucket of soapy water over Moonlight as soon as Mark leads him out of the horsebox!”
“That sounds way too messy…” Mia began, making a face, “although… maybe, just maybe that could work.”
“Bagsy I throw the water!” Rosie squealed, shooting her hand up in the air.
“Ok,” Alice said, checking she’d got it right. “We confront Mark about Moonlight, and if he doesn’t confess but denies it then Rosie throws water – gently – over Moonlight…”
“… and all is revealed!” Rosie beamed, stroking Pumpkin as his contented purrs rumbled all round the room. “Well, maybe all will be revealed with water followed by a bit of scrubbing, anyway.”
“Right,” Mia agreed, “and I’m sure Poppy will still come to the show, even without Moonlight. She’ll want to see everyone and maybe ask around to see if anyone’s got any news of him. So I think we should do this: one person collects Poppy and comes up with a reason for her to come over to Mark’s horsebox. One person holds the ponies and acts as look-out…”
“Me! If I can’t throw the water, I want to be lookout!” Charlie interrupted.
Mia made a note before carrying on: “… One person confronts Mark, and Rosie throws the water.”
“What happens if he confesses before we throw the water?” Alice asked, even though that seemed highly unlikely. “We won’t have to throw it if he does that.”
“How will I know, though?” Rosie asked, sounding disappointed. “Maybe I should throw it anyway, just to be sure.”
“No, Alice is right,” Mia said, chewing her pencil. “We need a code word. Rosie, you can hide around the other side of Mark’s horsebox. I’ll confront him and if he confesses everything, forget the bucket. But if he isn’t playing along, and you hear me shout ‘CHEAT’, that’s your cue to throw it.”
“So if Charlie’s the lookout, Rosie is throwing the water and you’re talking to Mark, I guess that leaves me with the job of collecting Poppy,” Alice said, slightly grumpily. After all, it was the least glamorous job of the four. But then again, Alice didn’t particularly fancy confronting Mark either, so all in all it wasn’t too bad. “What about timing?”
“Charlie’s class – the thirteen-two-and-under showjumping – is first,” Mia said, studying the show programme. “My showing class follows that, and the Fratton Cup for Alice, Rosie and Mark is last. If he’s intent on winning the Cup, he’ll probably get to the show and start warming up just after my Ridden Show Pony class starts. He won’t want to be hanging around for ages with a stolen pony, so I bet he’ll leave it all to the last minute. So, we’ll have to act after mine and Charlie’s classes have finished and before the Cup starts.”
Mia yawned as she finished speaking.
“That’s settled, then,” Charlie said, fighting back a yawn herself. “I doubt he’ll get Moonlight out early – that way as few people as possible will spot him before he jumps. It won’t give us much time to catch him.”
“Let’s just hope we have enough,” Rosie said, opening her window wider and looking out into the still darkness to where
the ponies were quietly dozing by the big tree. “It might be our only chance to reunite Poppy with her pony.”
Rosie called Beanie, who scuttled up the stairs and snuffled around each of the girls’ beds before settling down by Rosie’s feet, with Pumpkin taking up position by her pillow. Charlie reached over to turn out the side light and the girls carried on talking for a while. Then Charlie and Alice whispered for a bit longer as Rosie, Mia and Beanie started to snore lightly. Gradually the room fell silent. The only sound inside Alice’s head was her heart racing as she lay in the dark and started to panic in earnest about the Cup the next day.
THE cockerels woke Alice up after what felt like only five minutes of sleep. Once one started, a whole chorus followed, making further sleep impossible.
It was light and sunny outside, with the slight chill of early morning, when Alice rolled out of bed and walked over to the open window to see Scout in the paddock. Charlie was already up and dressed, jumping about excitedly. Mia sat up without a hair out of place, looking as perfect as she did when she’d got into bed. Rosie snorted and turned to face the wall, muttering something about Cups and refusals and just five more minutes.
Although Alice felt exhausted, she couldn’t have gone back to sleep because her stomach had started churning. Once Rosie had finally been dragged out of bed, she and the others ate a full cooked breakfast served up by a sleepy Mrs Honeycott, but Alice only just managed to force down a glass of orange juice and half a slice of toast with home-made bramble jelly.
They dressed quickly in their old gear to get the ponies ready, and rushed out of the back door into the yard. They waved to Mr Honeycott and Will, who were already out in the fields looking at some of their free-range calves.
The sky was a perfect, cloudless blue – it was going to be a sweltering day. The ponies whickered noisily when the girls walked towards their paddock. Dancer was resting one front hoof on the bottom rung of the gate, excited about her breakfast.
As they slipped the ponies’ headcollars on, Charlie suddenly cried out. Pirate had managed to rub his tail bandage off so that it was trailing round behind him, and the top of his tail hair was sticking out like a toilet brush. Alice was so nervous that she laughed far too loudly and earned herself a black look from Charlie.
Alice knew it was pretty hard to get a grey pony to shine like a chestnut or a bay, but Scout was ultra clean and his dapples stood out beautifully after she’d finished grooming him. Then she began to plait Scout’s mane, and he dropped his head for her, shifting his weight and resting his off hind so that his hips were really angled. Alice wasn’t very good at it and each plait got fatter and looser. It wasn’t until right at the end that she remembered there was supposed to be an odd number of plaits up the neck, with one last one in the forelock making it even. Alice had ten by the time she reached Scout’s ears, so she had to undo the last plait and hastily divide it into two weedy ones.
Once they were all finished grooming, they rushed back to the cottage to get changed into their show gear. Mia looked immaculate in her cream jods, her sparkling jodhpur boots, brown gloves and smart fitted black jacket. Her bright pink tie with silver spots was striking against her olive skin, her silky black hair tied back with a bright pink ribbon under her black velvet hat. She made the rest of them seem even shabbier than usual in their older, inexpensive jackets and slightly off-colour jods.
Back in the yard they fetched their tack, and Alice worried again about how slippery her polished saddle would be. Her fingers were shaking so much that she could hardly buckle the straps on the bridle or the girth. But finally, they were ready. When Mia pulled Wish out of the stable, the others gasped. The palomino mare, with her creamy mane and tail plaited, her dark eyes framed by her long fluttery eyelashes in her delicately curved dished head, looked even more incredible than usual. It would take a sensational pony to beat her into second place.
Charlie had battled heroically with Pirate’s tail, but it still looked like a curled-up hedgehog, and Dancer had even fatter plaits than Scout.
“Ready?” Mia asked as they all mounted. Rosie had an empty bucket and a bottle of Mia’s pony shampoo ready for their plan proudly swinging over her arm.
Alice sat there for half a second before rapidly dismounting again. “Oooh, hang on a sec, I need the loo!”
As she dashed off, Rosie muttered. “Not again!”
Alice hurried back, trying to calm herself, but her legs had turned to jelly and she put the wrong foot into the stirrup before managing to get up, and they finally set off.
It only took fifteen minutes to hack along the lanes to the show, but if Alice thought the ride would calm her down she was wrong; her nerves were getting worse with every stride. They dismounted, loosened off their girths and headed straight for the secretary’s tent to pick up their numbers as soon as they arrived.
“Mia, look,” Rosie said as she found her name on the list and scanned down the rest. “Mark’s name isn’t on the list for the Fratton Cup!”
“Hmm, he must be planning to do a late entry,” Mia mused, running her finger down the list to double-check. “That way he’ll keep a low profile until the last second.”
They didn’t have much time to think about it though because it was nearly time for Charlie’s class, the 13.2hh-and-under showjumping, and Charlie was one of the first to go. She rode over to the warm-up ring and started to walk, trot and canter an over-excited Pirate. He whizzed round the outside of the ring, terrorising any other pony that got too close, and flew over the practice jumps a few times before Charlie was called into the main ring for her round.
The others made their way to the edge of the rope marking off the ring. They watched as Pirate careered round, charging at each fence like a maniac. He even managed to take a stride out between the two fences in the double. Charlie sat quietly, anticipating Pirate’s every stride, but the bay clonked the back pole and after that he knocked every fence, sending three more flying.
“Sixteen jumping faults for Charlie Hall riding her own Pirate,” the judge announced over a crackly loudspeaker as Charlie rode out, smiling, to a smattering of claps.
“Not our lucky day.” She shrugged, patting Pirate as she dismounted and gave him a handful of pony nuts from her pocket. She loosened her tie thankfully as the sun beat down, and Alice felt a twist in her stomach, wondering whether Charlie’s bad start was going to set the tone for the rest of them. And for Poppy.
She didn’t have long to wonder about fate, because as Charlie dismounted Mia said that it was time for her to start working in Wish for her showing class.
“Hang on a sec, is that who I think it is?” Charlie said, leaning over Pirate’s saddle after loosening his girth, and squinting in the direction of the showground entrance. The others followed her gaze. Alice suddenly squeaked.
“It’s Mark!” she said breathlessly, pointing to the far edge of the field. Mark’s sleek, expensive horsebox was hard to miss, rolling in and bumping gently to a standstill among the other smaller, battered trailers.
“He’s seriously early,” Mia frowned, checking her watch. “The Fratton Cup doesn’t start for at least an hour, and if Mark hasn’t registered yet for the class he’ll be one of the last to ride, after Alice.”
Suddenly Mia wasn’t sure what to do – she didn’t want to miss her warm-up on Wish, but she couldn’t miss seeing Mark bring Moonlight out of his horsebox either.
“I bet he keeps Moonlight in the box for ages, though,” Rosie said. “I mean, he can’t parade him round for too long before the class starts in case he gets recognised, even with a disguise. I reckon you’ll have time to do your class first, Mia.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Charlie said suddenly. “Look, he’s getting ready to open the ramp!”
“Quick!” Mia said urgently, feeling a rush of excitement and nerves over what they were about to do. “Time to get our plan under way. First things first – we need to find Poppy!”
The four of them looked round
frantically, thrown by Mark’s unexpectedly early appearance. For a moment Alice was convinced they’d never find Poppy in time and they’d miss their moment to reveal Moonlight. She had visions of Mark carrying the Cup away unchallenged. Then her legs wobbled at the thought of the Cup.
“There she is!” Charlie cried. She’d leaped back onto Pirate and was standing up in her stirrups, pointing over to the tea and lemonade tent.
“Right, Charlie, you take the ponies and I’ll keep an eye on Mark. Rosie, fill your bucket and take up your position,” Mia instructed. “Alice, you go and collect Poppy.”
“Erm. Okay,” Alice replied hesitantly.
“What now?” Mia asked testily.
“Um, can someone just keep an eye on Poppy for me for one sec?” Alice asked, dancing slightly on the spot.
“Where are you off to?” Mia hissed. “You can’t disappear now!”
“Got to!” Alice replied, dashing towards the Portaloos for the fifth time.
When she got back Mia was gesturing at her wildly. Mark had lowered his ramp and was heading up it, disappearing inside the horsebox.
“Right, everyone – to your positions,” Mia said, sounding very grand.
Alice scooted off towards Poppy, but when it came to approaching her, Alice suddenly realised that she hadn’t even thought about what she was going to say. ‘Hello Poppy, we’ve found Moonlight for you. Step this way’? Or how about, ‘Poppy, Special Agent Alice Hathaway here. We’ve located your missing pony’? In the end she kept it simple.
“Poppy?” she said.
Poppy turned round. Her eyes looked haunted, and Alice could tell at once that losing Moonlight hadn’t got any easier. Her face was pale and, although she smiled faintly, it was obviously difficult for her being surrounded by so many ponies when her own wasn’t there. But not for long, Alice told herself.
Moonlight: Star of the Show Page 7