Kate was at the breakfast table ahead of him and his mother stood at the hob.
“You’re just in time for some bacon and eggs,” Mrs. Hardy said. “I’m not going to be making it for you every day, but I thought I’d give you a treat on the first morning of the holidays.”
“Thanks Mum.” Alex took the plate of food that she offered and sat down at the kitchen table.
“Right Kate, shall we be off?” Mrs. Hardy turned to her daughter.
“Where are you going?” Alex munched his way through a mouthful of food.
“The stables,” Kate answered him.
“I said I’d give Kate a lift on my way into Colcott,” Mrs. Hardy explained. “What are your plans for the day?”
“Oh, cricket and stuff,” Alex said vaguely.
Mrs. Hardy nodded. “Kate darling – I’ll just get my sunglasses from upstairs, then we’ll be off.”
“All right, Mum.” Kate stood waiting as her mother disappeared out of the room.
“You don’t fancy coming to the sale with me, do you?” Alex said.
“I can’t,” Kate groaned. “Nick said he’d give Feather and me some extra training. I thought you were OK about going on your own.”
“I am, I am. I just thought it would be nice to have some company,” Alex grumbled. “Forget it.”
“Shall we go?” Mrs. Hardy appeared in the kitchen and then she turned to her son. “Can you put the burglar alarm on if you go out?”
“Sure,” Alex answered.
“All right, we’re off.” Mrs. Hardy turned to her daughter.
Alex waited for a few minutes after he heard the car start up before he got to his feet. There was no point in hanging around inside. Grabbing a sweatshirt, he punched in the numbers on the alarm and slipped out of the front door. As he walked down the road to the bus stop, he patted the pocket of his jeans where he’d stashed his envelope full of cash. The bus to Ash Hill rumbled around the corner, and Alex felt a rush of adrenaline flood through him. Whistling to himself, he climbed aboard, scrabbling around in his pockets for some loose change. The bus set off, rattling around the winding roads, and Alex sat down. 9 o’clock – plenty of time to get to the sale and look round before it started at ten.
Alex was feeling pretty confident. Wait till Nick saw the pony that evening...wait till all the others saw it too. They’d be pretty impressed with him. Fleetingly Alex remembered he hadn’t actually mentioned his idea to Nick, but as he was giving them the use of a pony, what could be the problem? Anyway, it would be a nice surprise.
Soon they were rumbling through the countryside, passing woods and fields, until they neared the outskirts of Ash Hill. As they reached the corner of Warmouth Road, Alex rang the bell and the bus jolted to a halt. He jumped down and walked back down the road to the sale ground.
It was busy as he walked through the wrought iron gates. The courtyard was bursting with people, and horses were being led this way and that.
Alex looked at the catalogue. First things first – he’d check out the ponies Kate had marked – a dun, two browns and a grey. Flicking through the catalogue, he came to the first of them. “Lot number 43, registered working dun pony.” He read the words out loud. “Rising four, two white socks, 13 hands, without shoes, fully warranted.”
Alex walked into the building housing the horses and ponies. People were milling around as Alex made his way up and down each of the aisles in search of the dun pony. As he came to it, he cast a critical eye over its back. It looked all right, but nothing to get enthusiastic about. He gave it a tick and moved on. The two brown ponies weren’t far away, and once Alex had given them a cursory glance, he gave them a tick too. It was just the grey now. Alex battled his way through the crowds, trying to make his way to where she was tied. He could just about see the top of her head, but there were so many people around, there wasn’t time for much more. He really ought to see the four ponies led out in hand to check they were sound. Uncle Jack always did – but then Uncle Jack was a bit fussy like that.
Alex fanned himself with the catalogue – it was pretty hot and stuffy in here. As he walked out of the building and over to the ringside, he stopped by the refreshments van.
“Can of lemonade please.” He handed over the money and looked at his watch, feeling excited at the thought of bidding against everyone else. He really ought to go and register his name – the dun pony wouldn’t be in for a while yet, but the sale had already started. Alex squeezed his way through the jostling crowds to the registration kiosk.
“Name and address?” the woman behind the counter asked.
“Alex Hardy. The Old Mill, Priory Lane, Colcott,” he said confidently, grabbing the numbered card that was pushed towards him. He was glad he was so tall – she hadn’t even queried his age. Registration number 64. Alex looked down at the card as he made his way to the building housing the ring where the horses would be sold. He squeezed through the rows of people and found a spot on the right just as a bay mare was being led into the ring.
“Lot number 22...what will you give me for this horse here? Who’ll start me at £150?” The auctioneer’s voice sounded muffled over the loudspeaker. A man on the right of the ring raised his hand and the auctioneer nodded. “150, I’m bid. 200?”
Alex watched another man raise his hand in the air and again the auctioneer acknowledged it, and now the bidding was speeding up.
“250, 300, 400...” The auctioneer was going so fast that Alex could hardly hear what was going on. At £500, the auctioneer brought his hammer down on the desk in front of him with a loud bang. The mare had been sold and was being led out of the ring.
Alex watched another ten horses led in and out of the ring. It wasn’t long before the working dun pony was brought in. The pony looked on his toes and danced eagerly at the end of his lead rope. Alex waited for the bidding to start. £200...£300...Alex cast his eyes this way and that, itching to put in a bid. But before he knew it, the price was already up to £450. In the blink of an eye, the pony was sold for £600. Alex hadn’t even had the chance to raise his hand. Oh well, that pony had been out of his price range anyway. He felt a little twinge of doubt that it wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought.
“Are you here to buy something?” The lady standing next to him tapped him on the shoulder.
“Yes, yes I am,” Alex answered.
“Well, you have to be pretty quick off the mark if you’re going to bid,” she said kindly.
“Oh I know,” Alex said, feeling faintly irritated that he must have looked as though he didn’t know what he was doing.
“Well, good luck,” the lady smiled as she walked away.
Alex settled back down to watch another twenty or so lots led in and out of the ring. When the first of the brown ponies was brought in, Alex was ready to hit the bidding. As the price reached £400, he raised his hand.
“400, I’m bid,” the auctioneer called, and Alex felt pleased with himself. But the feeling was only momentary. Soon the bidding had jumped to £450 and then £500 and he was out of the running again.
“Sold...sold for £700,” the words of the auctioneer finally rang out.
Head down, Alex flicked through the catalogue. There were another fifty or so lots till the next brown pony. Alex decided he’d go and get some fresh air. Slowly he ambled outside and over to the refreshments van.
“Cheese roll please.” Alex fumbled around in his pocket for the money.
The man handed it over and Alex unwrapped the roll, looking around him. People were drifting around as the loudspeaker relayed the ponies’ prices. Alex threw the wrapper into a bin and made his way back to the ringside. It wasn’t long now until the next brown pony. Alex looked down at his catalogue. The estimate was £450, so it was already at the top end of what he had to spend.
Two more horses were sold, and then the brown pony was led in. The bidding quickly rose to £200, and Alex joined in. In no time at all it went to £300...then £400 and soon it was way past £500.
Not again. Alex felt frustrated – yet another pony had gone for more money than he’d expected.
Alex gritted his teeth. The grey was only a few lots away now. One horse...two horses...three horses...sold.
Impatiently he waited until the grey pony was led into the ring. Was it his imagination, or was the pony limping? This was crazy. As the pony was led around, the bidding got faster and faster until Alex’s head was reeling.
£200...£300...£400. What if the pony wasn’t sound? He was too scared to bid in case it wasn’t. And then the hammer had come crashing down again – this time at £500 – and yet another pony was led out of the ring. Alex took a deep breath. He just had to get a pony that day.
“Lot number 145. £200...who’ll give me £200 for this pony?” The words of the auctioneer rang out into the crowd. Alex craned his neck around the people in front of him to look into the ring. There were so many people in front of him that he couldn’t get a clear view of the pony. Still, what he could see looked OK – as good as any of the others. Why not put in a bid?
No one had bid anything yet, so maybe he was in with a chance. At £200, Alex raised his hand. His eyes flashed around the ring, daring anyone to outbid him. A burly-looking man across the wayside raised his hand at £300, and Alex nodded at £400. Things were hotting up now and Alex was in the thick of it. He couldn’t go much higher. There – £500 – that was his limit.
Alex’s face flushed as he realized all eyes were upon him. He was just about to leave when he noticed that the crowd had hushed. He looked over to the opposite side of the ring to where the other man had been bidding, but he was turning away now to talk to his friend.
“Go-in-g...go-in-g...go-ne.” The hammer dropped and Alex panicked. What had he done? He hadn’t even looked at the pony properly. The man next to him nudged his elbow, and Alex realized they were waiting for his registration number. Shakily, Alex raised the numbered card in the air, just as the pony was being led out of the ring.
Try to keep calm, Alex said to himself. It’ll be all right. Quickly, he turned to the catalogue and scrabbled through it.
“Lot number 145...number 145,” he muttered under his breath as he ran his finger down the typewritten pages until he came to the entry.
“Chestnut mare: Puzzle, 14 hands.” He read the words aloud, hardly conscious of the people around him. “Much-loved. Competed locally at shows. Sadly outgrown.”
There was no warranty, but the pony sounded all right. There...Alex breathed a sigh of relief. That sounded OK. He’d go and pay for the pony and get everything sorted out. Patting his breast pocket to check the money was still there, he made his way over to the kiosk.
“Yes?” a woman’s voice came from behind the counter as Alex hit the head of the queue.
“Yes, I’ve just bought a pony and I’d like to pay for it.”
“Which lot?” the woman said.
“Lot number 145,” Alex started, fumbling around in his pockets for the envelope of cash.
“Come on,” an impatient voice came from behind him.
“Just one moment,” Alex said, handing over a bundle of ten pound notes.
“Do you want to have the pony delivered somewhere?” the woman asked.
“Yes, er, that’ll be great. It needs to go to the other side of Colcott,” Alex answered.
“That’ll be £15.”
“Well, um.” Alex stumbled over the words, knowing full well that he’d only got £5 left. “Actually, I don’t really need a box.”
“Show your receipt to the man over there and you’ll be free to take her,” the woman answered.
Alex looked down at his receipt. The woman behind the counter was already onto the next customer as he made his way across the courtyard. Hurriedly, he handed over the slip of paper to the man waiting, and then Alex was shown down rows and rows of ponies, until finally he arrived at the back of the chestnut pony.
“Here you are – this one’s yours.” The man pointed and disappeared off down the aisle, leaving Alex at the pony’s backside. The pony was roped into a sort of pen and facing the wall, so Alex couldn’t really see her at first. He slipped under the rope, careful to avoid her hindquarters, and stepped alongside her shoulder.
“Hello there,” Alex muttered, taking a good look at what he’d bought. Alex patted her neck, but he didn’t get much of a response. He cast a critical eye over her and a wave of disgust flooded through him. She was filthy. Deep patches of mud clung in whorls on her shaggy chestnut coat and her red-brown mane, knotted and tangled, hung over her eyes. As Alex looked a bit closer he realized the pony was so thin you could almost see the ribs through her coat. Still, she’d be all right once she was cleaned up and had a good feed.
Alex untied the pony’s rope, thinking back to the words used to describe her in the catalogue. ‘Much-loved, sadly outgrown’ – what a joke!
As Alex led her out across the dirty floor he wasn’t really sure what he should do. He hadn’t got enough money to get her boxed anywhere. Alex thought hard. Kate would still be at Sandy Lane now. He’d give her a call.
Slowly he led the pony out of the building. No one even batted an eyelid as he crossed the courtyard and made his way to the exit. Alex tied the pony up to some railings and hurried over to the public phone box. He slotted in a coin and dialled the number for Sandy Lane, twisting the phone cord in his hands while he waited for someone to answer.
“Come on, come on,” he muttered as the phone rang at the other end.
At last someone picked up the receiver. It was a voice he didn’t recognize.
“Oh hello, is Kate Hardy around? It’s Alex.. yes, her brother.”
Alex waited and then Kate’s breathless voice sounded at the other end.
“Alex...what’s the matter?” she asked.
“Kate, can you come to Ash Hill? Yes, now. Please. Don’t ask any questions...just come. Meet me at the left of the front entrance, and bring a grooming kit. It’s really important.”
Alex put down the phone and walked to where he’d tied up the pony. Sandy Lane wasn’t far from Ash Hill so it shouldn’t take Kate long on the bus. He took another glance at the pony – she really wasn’t much to look at. Still, a pony didn’t have to be pretty to be useful. The sooner he got her settled at Sandy Lane, the sooner his plan would be in motion.
4
A DEAL IS STRUCK
Alex stood up from where he was sitting and stretched his legs. An hour had passed since he’d phoned Kate. Where had she got to? He was tired of waiting. Alex waved a hand in front of the pony’s eyes, but she didn’t so much as flicker an eyelid.
“Come on, you rotten thing. You could at least acknowledge I’m here,” Alex said crossly.
“Alex...Alex...”
Alex looked up to see Kate sprinting down the road towards him.
“Did you buy a pony? Where is it? Why the terrible hurry?” Her words came out in short staccato sentences, her eyes darting this way and that. She didn’t even register the little pony and with a sinking heart, Alex realized that Kate was obviously expecting him to get a bit more for his money.
“It’s over there?” Alex grunted and pointed to where the pony was standing.
“There?” And, as Kate realized that he was pointing at the little chestnut pony in front of her, she turned and stared at him in disbelief.
“What? This New Forest pony here? You mean...you’ve bought this pony?”
Alex nodded.
“But she’s...I mean, she’s...” Kate looked bewildered. “Well, she’s so thin. She looks ill. Oh you poor little thing.” She stroked the pony’s nose. “But I didn’t pick a chestnut from the catalogue, Alex.”
“No,” Alex frowned. “No you didn’t, but the ones you picked all went for too much money. I thought she’d be all right. I mean, she’s not so bad, is she?”
“Bad?” Kate exclaimed. “Oh Alex, she’s a mess. She’s so thin, and look at the sores on her back!”
“Oh, come on Kate. She’ll be
all right.” Alex felt embarrassed as everyone seemed to be looking at them.
“How much did she cost?” Kate asked in bewilderment, moving closer to the pony.
“£500,” Alex answered.
“£500? Oh Alex, that was all of your money and she’s in such a state.” Kate just stood there, taking it all in. “She’s...she’s so filthy and...and...”
Alex saw tears of pity well up in Kate’s eyes and for the first time that day he realized the situation was actually pretty bad.
“She’s not even registering me,” Kate said, cradling the pony’s head in her arms. “It’s as though she’s given up on life.”
“Look,” Alex interrupted her firmly. “We can’t sit here all day and talk about how bad she looks. We need to move on from here.”
“Yes, I guess you’re right,” Kate said. “Although Nick’s not going to be very happy. He’s expecting a fit, healthy horse.”
“I suppose,” Alex faltered and turned away.
“Alex?” Kate grabbed her brother’s arm and tried to twist him back. “You have spoken to Nick, haven’t you?”
Alex didn’t say anything and, as Kate watched him, a look of disbelief crossed her face. “Uh oh, you haven’t spoken to him, have you? You never told him you were going to buy Sandy Lane a pony.”
“Well, there wasn’t really time and anyway, I’m sort of doing him a favour, aren’t I? He’s bound to be pleased.”
Kate looked shocked. “You should still have asked his permission. What if he said he didn’t want another pony? I can’t believe it – there I was thinking Nick didn’t mention it this afternoon because he was too busy. Well, I hope Nick’s in a good mood.”
“Look Kate.” Alex was short. “You’re just worrying unnecessarily. Everything will be all right when we get there. She just needs feeding up and grooming, doesn’t she?”
The Perfect Pony Page 2