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Ride by Moonlight

Page 4

by Michelle Bates


  “Rubbish,” Izzy said straightaway, in a self-assured voice. “There must be something more to it. You can’t kill a horse by riding it. There must have been something wrong with her.”

  “I don’t know.” Charlie was unconvinced, in spite of Izzy’s efforts to reassure him. Slowly, he rubbed his forehead. “I just don’t know. The head lad at Elmwood seemed to think it was my fault...and Tom.”

  “Tom? You mean he knows about this?” Izzy looked surprised.

  “Yes, I told him two days ago,” Charlie said gloomily. “Tom was really shocked.”

  “But how can it have been your fault?” Izzy cried in exasperation. “Have you been back to the racing stables?”

  “Well no,” Charlie answered.

  “Then why don’t you go back and get some answers?” she asked, excitedly.

  “I’ve tried that. I couldn’t face going in.” Charlie blurted the words out, the passion clear in his voice. “I don’t want to go back there, and now I’m worried that Tom is going to tell Nick and Sarah.”

  “Hmm...” Izzy had an idea forming in her head.

  “What is it?” Charlie asked, seeing the expression on Izzy’s face.

  “Well,” she started slowly, “if you’re riding again, Nick and Sarah don’t ever need to know the truth about the accident, do they? They won’t need to know that the horse actually died. Come on, Charlie,” Izzy cried. “Why not try tomorrow when we’re all at the Colcott Show? Why don’t you take Napoleon out then – when there’s no one to watch you?”

  “Well.” Charlie looked unconvinced by Izzy’s plan. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said hesitantly. “Maybe I should have one last try. Maybe that would be the answer.

  “Of course it is,” Izzy said enthusiastically, seeming to have forgotten her own problems. “Be determined. Now, we need to talk more about this,” she said, leading him off to the tack room...

  7

  CATASTROPHE STRIKES

  The morning of the Colcott Show dawned bright and clear. Since 6 o’clock, everyone had been rushing around madly, grooming, plaiting manes and oiling hooves. Charlie and Izzy had spent some time yesterday afternoon concocting a plan. They’d decided that Charlie would offer to stay behind and man the yard for Sarah. That way, she could go to the show, and Charlie would have the chance to take out Napoleon. And it had worked, the plan had all been agreed.

  Now it was 8 o’clock and the yard was in chaos. Charlie was relieved to see that each of the horses and riders was nearly ready. It wouldn’t be long now. He’d managed to avoid Tom all morning, hoping that if he kept out of the way, it wouldn’t act as a prompt for Tom to tell Nick and Sarah.

  “Hey Charlie. Have you told Nick and Sarah about the accident yet?” Tom hissed as they loaded the last of the horses into the horsebox.

  “No,” Charlie answered firmly, walking off.

  “Well, you’re running out of time – Nick’s off on his training course tomorrow,” Tom called from the cab of the horsebox. “Look, I’ll catch you at the show. We’ll talk about this later.”

  “I’m not coming to the show,” Charlie answered.

  “What? What do you mean you’re not coming?” Tom said. “Don’t you care enough to at least come and watch?”

  Charlie shrugged his shoulders. “I’m staying behind to man the stables,” he answered, his jaw jutting out defiantly.

  “Well, please yourself, but if you’re not going to tell Nick and give him a chance to help you ride, then maybe you should let go of your place at the British Racing School,” Tom said crossly.

  Charlie tried to look nonchalant, but he felt sick at Tom’s throwaway lines. Give up his place at the British Racing School? Tom had hinted at it before, but he hadn’t actually said it. The thought made Charlie feel terrible, and he was glad to see everyone pile into the Land Rover. They’d be gone soon.

  “You will be all right won’t you, Charlie?” Izzy whispered to him in passing.

  “I’ll be just fine,” Charlie said, through gritted teeth.

  “Well good luck then,” she said. “Chin up. You can do it.”

  Charlie smiled weakly. “Good luck as well,” he answered. Their conversation came to a close as Sarah summoned Izzy into the back of the Land Rover.

  “Just take down a phone number with any bookings and say we’ll confirm when we get back,” Sarah called across to Charlie.

  “OK,” Charlie answered.

  “It shouldn’t be too busy. I think most people know we’re at the show today,” Sarah went on.

  “Fine,” Charlie replied.

  At last everyone was ready. Doors were slammed shut and the horse box drove out of the yard. They were off.

  “Bye.” Charlie waved. But his words were drowned out by the sound of the engine. The last thing he saw was Izzy’s face peering from the window as they drove out of the yard. Walking across to Napoleon’s stable, Charlie thought about what Tom had said. More than anything he wanted to take up his place at the British Racing School. Charlie hated the way he felt, loathed the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Izzy was right. He had to do it. He had to get riding again.

  As he crossed the yard, he stopped for a moment to fill up a haynet. He collected Napoleon’s saddle and bridle and dumped them outside the stable, then he looked around him. Maybe he should tidy up a little. But, as Charlie turned and surveyed the yard, he knew that he was just prolonging the agony.

  “Come on, you’re being pathetic,” he said to himself. Taking a deep breath, he approached Napoleon’s stable.

  “OK boy?” he said, looking inside. Napoleon ignored him.

  “I’m sorry you’re missing the show. It’s all my fault, but I’m going to take you out for a ride now.”

  Somehow, saying things aloud helped Charlie get them off his chest and, if nothing else, he was starting to feel a little calmer.

  Quickly he groomed Napoleon. Then, just as he was about to turn and pick up the bridle, he heard the sound of a Land Rover roll into the yard. Sarah was back! She must have forgotten something.

  Charlie froze to the spot, not daring to look out over the box. He racked his brains to come up with something to say, the panic seizing hold of him. And then he heard a voice call out, and he breathed a sigh of relief. False alarm. It wasn’t Sarah at all.

  “Yoo hoo. Is anyone around?” A woman’s voice echoed around the yard.

  Charlie stepped forward and sneaked a look out of the corner of the box. A woman stood in the middle of the yard, a small girl by her side.

  “Isn’t this a lovely stables, Julia?” She turned to the small girl.

  “Oh, it looks brilliant, Mummy,” the girl answered.

  “Now, where is everyone?” her mother started again, looking anxiously around her. “There must be someone here we can talk to.”

  Suddenly, Charlie felt very guilty that he had been planning to stay hidden as he stood inside the box. He’d heard the enthusiasm in their voices. He couldn’t just leave them standing there. He took a deep breath, and backed out of the box.

  “Can I help?” he asked.

  “Oh good, there is someone about,” the mother said, smiling. “We just wanted to book some lessons for Julia.”

  “Well, I’m afraid that the owners aren’t here at the moment,” Charlie answered. “They’re at the Colcott Show today, but I can take a provisional booking and get them to confirm when they come back.”

  “That sounds fine,” the mother answered. “So, tell me, is it as nice here as it looks?” she said brightly. “I used to be part of a similar sort of set-up when I was a girl, and I couldn’t bear to go home at the end of each day,” she laughed.

  “Well, it’s a great stables,” Charlie started. “And Nick Brooks who runs it, is a brilliant instructor. He used to be a National Hunt jockey before he set up Sandy Lane.”

  “Really? And the standard of riding’s good?” The mother looked interested.

  “Yes...yes it is,” Charlie said, feeling a complete fra
ud as the words spilled out. How could he enthuse about it all, when he wasn’t even riding himself? He felt mean as he found himself wishing they would just go. They were doing a tour of the stables now. Shifting uneasily from one foot to the other, Charlie waited impatiently.

  “Bye then. See you next Thursday,” he called as they eventually got into their car again.

  “Yes, bye,” the little girl waved.

  Charlie took a deep breath as they drove out of the yard, and quickly he walked across the gravel.

  “We’re still going out for that ride, Napoleon.” He gritted his teeth determinedly. “You’re not going to be let off the hook that easily.” But Charlie sounded more confident than he felt.

  “It’s OK. It’ll be OK,” he said to himself.

  The calm that Charlie had felt earlier had completely evaporated. As he reached up to put on the bridle, his fingers were all thumbs. He knew that he was being clumsy as he did up the throat lash. Now for the saddle.

  Napoleon looked disgruntled as Charlie put the saddle down on his back. It was as though the horse could sense Charlie’s unease. Charlie grimaced, hoping his reluctance to ride wasn’t too obvious – animals were able to smell fear on humans.

  “Come on boy...settle down,” he said as Napoleon sidestepped around the stable.

  Swiftly, Charlie led Napoleon out of his loose box and through the gate at the back of the yard. He was determined to take Napoleon as far away from the stables as was possible so there would be little chance of anyone surprising them. But the further Charlie walked, the harder it became to find a suitable place to stop and mount. The trees rustled in the breeze. Charlie fixed his gaze into the distance. They were nearly at the furrowed fields now, and Napoleon was jogging by Charlie’s side, getting more and more restless, until he was jumping at imaginary creatures in the hedgerow.

  “Settle down,” Charlie cried as Napoleon started to break into a raking trot, and Charlie found himself being pulled along. Quickly he managed to calm the horse back down to a walk. “We’ll just go to the other end of this field, and then I’ll get on,” he said soothingly.

  Charlie’s stomach was tying itself in knots. His arms felt as though they were being yanked out of their sockets. Napoleon was sweating up with excitement, his eyes rolling as he jumped skittishly from side to side. Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea after all. And then a low-flying military jet shot across the sky. Jets were commonplace around Colcott, but this one was followed by another and another. Napoleon flung his head high into the air, jerking the reins out of Charlie’s hands.

  Before Charlie knew it, the horse was off, swerving this way and that, galloping madly across the fields, as if his life depended on it.

  “Napoleon, Napoleon,” Charlie called, desperately chasing after him. Surely he’d slow down in a moment. But Napoleon wasn’t stopping for anyone and, as the horse soared over the fence and galloped off in the direction of Larkfield Copse, Charlie realized with a sinking heart that he’d never catch him. Slowly, Charlie drew to a halt and bent over, desperately trying to get his breath back. He didn’t know what to do. There wasn’t anyone back at the yard to help him look for Napoleon either. One thing was for sure – he had to find that horse before everyone got back from the show. Nick would never forgive him if Napoleon came to any harm, and then that really would be the end of things for him at Sandy Lane.

  8

  CONFESSIONS

  Without a horse to ride, it was a long walk back to the yard for Charlie. He collected his mountain bike, and then spent the next two hours cycling through field after field. He even combed Larkfield Copse, but no luck there. It was hot and muggy and Charlie felt irritable.

  Desperately trying to think clearly, he made his way back to the stables. What should he do? He couldn’t leave the yard unmanned any longer. He’d have to ring the police and report Napoleon missing and that meant facing up to the fact that the horse was truly lost.

  Slowly, Charlie made his way into the tack room, dragging his feet as he flicked open the appointments book to get to the telephone section at the back. The number of the local police station was clearly written there in Nick’s hand.

  Charlie gripped the receiver tightly as he dialled the number and listened to what the police officer had to say. It seemed that all he could do was sit and wait. So that was exactly what Charlie did. He spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in the tack room, just willing the phone to ring.

  And now it was 5 o’clock. Nick and the others were still at Colcott, oblivious to what he’d done. They’d be back soon. Time was running out.

  Charlie didn’t know what to think. He half wanted them to get back so he had someone to share the burden of it all, and yet the thought of telling Nick what had happened filled him with horror. Charlie sat staring into space.

  Rrrring...rrrring. Charlie almost jumped out of his skin as the sound of the telephone echoed around the tack room and he lunged across the desk to grab the receiver.

  “Yes, yes this is Sandy Lane,” he answered, breathlessly. “Oh right.” His heart sank. It was only someone calling to book a lesson. “Yes, no, I’m sorry...I mean, I thought you were going to be someone else. Yes, the 10 o’clock hack on Saturday’s fine,” he said, taking the details and putting down the phone.

  Charlie looked at his watch. He was feeling desperate now. And then his heart skipped a beat as he heard a familiar engine in the distance. He felt sick as he looked out of the tack room window to see the horsebox roll into the yard. The others were back.

  Silently he watched as his friends poured out of the various vehicles, laughing and shouting. The yard was immediately alight with activity. Ramps were lowered, rosette-laden horses were unloaded, and each of the riders set about their tasks. Slowly, Charlie got down from the stool and left the tack room, almost colliding with Tom on the way.

  “Watch where you’re going,” Tom said, good-naturedly. “Hey, aren’t you going to ask how Chancey and I did?”

  But Charlie was already running across the yard, dodging this way and that through the various horses and riders. Tom’s voice faded as Charlie headed into the cottage. He had to get to Nick before anyone noticed that Napoleon was missing. He poked his head around the kitchen door.

  “Nick, Nick,” he called, urgently.

  “Yes, I’m just coming.” Nick’s voice answered him, and then he appeared.

  “How did things go here?” he asked. “All right?” And then he noted Charlie’s red face. “There isn’t a problem is there?”

  Charlie took a deep breath. “Well, actually there is, I’m afraid, um, it’s Napoleon – you see, he’s not in his stable any more.”

  “What do you mean he’s not in his stable?” Nick looked puzzled. “Have you checked the fields at the back? Has someone put him out to graze? I’m sure I saw him earlier. Sarah...Sarah, have you seen Napoleon?” he called.

  “No Nick...I mean...I’m not explaining things clearly,” Charlie started again. “I’ve accidentally let him go.”

  “You’ve let him go!” Nick looked startled. “When? Where?”

  “Well, about three hours ago.”

  “Three hours ago!” Nick bellowed. “You mean to tell me he’s been missing for three hours! What were you doing?”

  “Well, I took him out for a ride, only I didn’t get on straight away, and then there were some jets. They startled him. He tugged the reins right out of my hands and then he shot off.”

  “I haven’t got time to listen to this now,” Nick said. “We’ve got to find him. If he gets out onto the road there could be a serious accident, anything could happen. How could you have been so STUPID?”

  Charlie stood rooted to the spot. He didn’t know what to say.

  “What’s this?” Sarah had heard the shouting, and now she appeared in the doorway.

  “Napoleon’s gone,” Nick said breathlessly.

  “Gone?”

  “Yes gone – escaped. He bolted with Charlie. We’ve got to let the pol
ice know.”

  “I’ve already done that,” Charlie said, sounding calmer than he felt.

  “Well, I’ll just have to go and look for him myself then. Where was he heading?”

  “Larkfield Copse,” Charlie answered.

  “I’ll take the Land Rover over there,” Nick said quickly.

  “Shall I come with you?” Charlie asked.

  “No.” Nick looked furious. “You just stay here in case anyone phones.” He grabbed his car keys and ran out of the back door.

  The kitchen door slammed shut before Charlie had a chance to say anything more. He turned round to see Sarah standing behind him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Sarah looked at him sympathetically. “I know Nick sounds harsh, but you’ve got to understand where he’s coming from. You should never have taken a horse out on your own – you could have been hurt. We are responsible for you while your mother’s away, you know. And what about Napoleon? Until he’s back in one piece, none of us will be able to rest.”

  “I know, I know,” Charlie answered. “I know that what I did was silly. I only thought that...if...well–”

  What could he say? As far as Sarah was concerned, he’d been riding for the last week anyway. How could he tell her that it wasn’t true? Charlie was wandering around the room now, restlessly dragging his hands through his hair.

  “Charlie, just sit down,” Sarah said. “You’re making me feel nervous.”

  “I’m so sorry. I think I’d better go outside and get some air.”

  “That might be a good idea,” Sarah said, calmly.

  Charlie stepped out of the door and, as he looked up from the ground, a sea of faces rose to greet him. It was the last thing he needed. Suddenly, he was bombarded by question after question from all sides as his friends stood, waiting for explanations as to what was going on.

  “What’s happened?” Rosie asked.

 

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