by Jean Ure
‘Oh, yeah! I remember. She’s out on a hack.’
Cold hands clawed at my heart.
‘Out on a hack?’
‘Yeah. Why?’
‘She’s not supposed to be used like that! She’s got damaged lungs.’
‘Yeah?’
‘She was in a fire! She’s only fit for beginner rides.’
‘Who says?’
‘It’s true! Honestly!’
Natalie turned and looked me up and down. ‘What are you? Some kind of expert?’
I felt like telling her I was an official Animal Samaritan, but I guessed she would only sneer.
‘My dad’s been around horses all his life,’ she said. ‘He knows what he’s doing.’
I swallowed. ‘Why does he keep them all tied up?’
‘Makes it easier to muck out.’
‘But don’t they get bored? They’ve got nothing to look at! And they can’t talk to each other.’
‘They get enough to do,’ said Natalie.
She was one of those people it is impossible to have a proper conversation with. I grew more and more worried about poor Rosie. I fell back and waited for Katy, who couldn’t make Solo move any faster than a slow walk.
‘This is horrible,’ said Katy. ‘I feel mean just sitting on him!’
I felt exactly the same. You can always tell when a horse is well fed and well looked after; they are always eager to go. When I rode Jet, it was almost impossible to hold him back. Give him his head and he would have gone the whole ride at a gallop! Dusty had been reluctant even to break into a trot.
With a heavy heart I said it looked as if the Mouth had been right. ‘These stables are vile!’
‘Did you ask about Rosie?’
I said, ‘Yes. She’s out on a hack.’
‘On a hack?’
I nodded, and my hat almost fell off. All the hats at Farley Down seemed to be either too big or too small. Bethany wouldn’t have let us go out wearing hats that didn’t fit, but at Farley Down they obviously didn’t care. Didn’t care about the hats, didn’t care about the horses. They were rubbish! Worse than rubbish. They were that thing that politicians are always on about: not fit for purpose. If there was any justice in the world, they would be closed down. But there isn’t, of course; there isn’t any justice. Not for animals. They are skinned for their fur and shot for their tusks and poisoned in laboratories and sometimes it all gets too much and I just can’t bear it.
‘What are we going to do?’ whispered Katy.
I wiped my nose on the back of my hand and said that I didn’t know, except that we had to do something. We were Animal Samaritans; we couldn’t just sit back and pretend nothing was happening.
The nightmare ride came to an end at last. We clopped back into the filthy stable yard and Natalie took the ponies and led them away, back to captivity in their tiny cramped stalls. We were about to go to the office and pay when there was a clattering of hooves and we saw the hack returning. They were cantering, flat out, down the lane. Amongst them was Rosie.
Our poor sweet darling Rosie! A huge great red-faced man was sitting on her. He looked like a heavyweight wrestler. All the other horses snorted and tossed their heads as they pulled up in the yard, but not Rosie. I have never seen a poor horse look so dejected. She stood there, drooping, the picture of horsey misery. Her head was down, her flanks were heaving. She was covered in sweat.
Before I even had time to stop and think about it, I had gone rushing forward.
‘That horse has damaged lungs!’ I shouted. ‘She shouldn’t be ridden like that!’
A silence fell over the yard. Everyone was looking at me. The huge great brute of a man slowly dismounted, and, oh, I was so relieved. At least it meant poor Rosie could breathe a bit easier.
I stroked her neck, all flecked with white foam, while the other riders just sat there gaping. That sweet girl was trembling, her ears pulled right back. A sure sign of horsey distress.
The big brutish man said, ‘We’ll see about this,’ and went stamping off across the yard.
‘Oh, Rosie!’ I whispered. I kissed her soft velvety nose and she did her best to nuzzle me. Then I put my finger in her mouth and wobbled her lower lip for her, the way she liked, but she didn’t push her head against me or flicker her ears as she used to. She was too tired, and too unhappy.
Natalie had appeared. She yanked Rosie’s bridle away from me. Then she gave me this absolutely filthy look and said, ‘You’d do better to mind your own business.’
‘But look at her!’ I cried. ‘She shouldn’t be ridden like that!’
‘What’s it to you?’ said Natalie. ‘What do you know about anything?’
I opened my mouth to say that I was an Animal Samaritan and had sworn an oath to fight for animals, but before I could get any further than ‘I’m an An—’ there was the sound of shouting and old Chisel came roaring into the yard. He had a rake in his hand and he was making straight for me.
‘What the devil is going on?’ he bawled. ‘Who the hell do you think you are, poxy well coming here, laying down the law?’
Katy said later that she was sorry she waited so long to say anything. ‘But you were doing so well! And I did come and stand next to you.’ She added that ‘The man is obviously a complete lunatic,’ and that she thought I had been really brave.
I have to say that I didn’t feel very brave. It was actually rather scary the way old Chislett was waving that rake around. His eyes had gone all bulgy, as if they were about to come bursting out of their sockets, and I could see a vein in his neck leaping about like a big worm under his skin. I suppose if I am honest I would have to admit that what I really felt like doing was jumping on my bike and cycling away just as fast as I could. It was only the sight of poor exhausted Rosie, standing there with her head hanging down, that gave me courage.
‘Look at her!’ I pleaded. ‘She’s not well!’
All the other people had got off their horses and were looking the other way, obviously not wanting to be a part of it. Old Chisel turned and glared, as if daring them to say anything. Then he turned and jabbed the rake at Natalie.
‘Get that poxy horse back in its box! And you –’ he prodded at me – ‘get out of my yard! If you ever come here again, spreading lies about my horses, I’ll have your guts for garters! I’ll have you up for slander!’
The big red-faced man was hovering, trying to get a word in. ‘Jeff, Jeff!’
‘What’s your problem?’ snarled Chisel.
‘It’s not true, is it? About the horse?’
‘Of course it’s not poxy well true! What do you think? I send my customers out on poxy knackered horses? You take her poxy word before mine?’
‘No. No!’ Red Face backed away. ‘I just wanted to make sure.’
‘Well! Now you have.’
‘Yes.’ Red Face flapped a hand. ‘I’ll – ah – see you next week.’
Red Face disappeared. All the other riders had disappeared. Me and Katy were the only ones left.
‘She really has got damaged lungs,’ I whispered.
‘So? What do you want me to do about it? Send her for horsemeat?’
‘Just treat her gently,’ I begged.
‘Listen, you poxy little pipsqueak!’ He pointed at me with the rake. ‘These are animals. They are here to be ridden. And as long as they are capable of being ridden, they will be ridden. End of story. Right? You got that? Do I make myself clear? Now, hoppit!’
‘Please,’ I said.
He swung round. ‘Are you thick or something? Didn’t you just hear what I said?’
Katy clutched at my arm. I shook her off. ‘We’re Animal Samaritans!’ I cried. ‘We’ve sworn to protect animals! We can’t just walk away and do nothing!’
‘No?’ He stuck his face close to mine. ‘So what are you planning?’
I could have said we were going to report him to the RSPCA, but somehow I didn’t think it would bother him too much. He looked like the sort of man who
was always being reported and always got away with it.
‘If we found a s-sanctuary,’ I stammered, ‘would you let her g-go?’
‘Well, now! That would all depend.’
‘On wh-what?’ I said. I didn’t like the expression that had come slithering into his eyes. All mean and grasping. It made him seem even nastier than when he was shouting four-letter words.
‘On how much you’d be prepared to give me.’
‘G-give you?’ I said.
‘Well, you didn’t think I’d let her go for nothing, did you? I paid good money for that horse!’
‘How much?’ said Katy, suddenly springing into action.
‘Well … let’s see. He rubbed a hand over his sandpapery chin. ‘I reckon she’s still got a few weeks’ work left in her. So it’s not just a question of how much I paid, but how much I could make.’
‘How much?’ That was Katy again. She had really come to life!
‘Say … three hundred?’
I gulped. ‘P-pounds?’ Three hundred pounds?’
Our dismay must have shown in our faces.
‘Take it or leave it. But don’t set foot in my stable again spreading vicious lies amongst my customers or you’ll be in trouble. Dead trouble. I mean it!’
Katy and I went out, reeling. I felt like I had just been punched in the stomach.
‘Three hundred pounds!’
We could never hope to find so much money. I had never even seen so much money!
‘We could get a bit of it,’ said Katy.
‘A bit’s not enough,’ I wailed. ‘He said three hundred.’
‘Maybe we could pay by instalments.’
‘Oh!’ I hadn’t thought of that. Katy is just so brilliant when it comes to money matters. She even understands stuff such as rates of interest and returns on investment, which to me is just like – well! Gobbledygook. ‘D’you think he’d let us?’
‘Only one way to find out,’ said Katy.
‘You mean—’
‘Go back and ask him.’
‘What, m-me?’ I said.
‘Well … one of us.’
There was a pause.
‘I’ll do it,’ said Katy. She pushed her bike at me. ‘Hold that!’
‘Be careful,’ I begged. ‘He might hurt you!’
By way of reply Katy just tossed her head and made a gesture that some of the boys in our class make when they want to shock you. Not that they shock me! I am unshockable. But I was quite surprised at Katy. Being an Animal Samaritan had made her quite ferocious. When we first became friends she was ever so timid. I was the one that always went rushing in. Katy was the one that did all the thinking and came up with all the good arguments. These days she goes rushing in just as bold as can be.
I stood there holding our bikes and wondering what I would do if I heard the sound of screaming. Should I go to her rescue or jump on my bike and madly pedal off to get help? Our mums would be furious! They tell us over and over ‘not to interfere in things that are no concern of yours’. But animals were our concern! Rosie in particular.
I jiggled about from one foot to the other, wishing that Katy would come back.
From where I was I could see across the horrible littered yard to the box where Rosie had been taken. I could see Natalie in there with her. She seemed to be rubbing her down, and I was relieved about that. I could remember Bethany telling us that it was bad to let a horse stay covered in sweat. But I still hated the thought of having to go away and leave that poor suffering horse in the hands of such loathsome people. She must be so confused and frightened!
Katy still hadn’t come back. I was just beginning to think that I would have to pluck up the courage to go after her, when, thank goodness, she reappeared. She didn’t look as if she had been attacked. At any rate she wasn’t covered in blood.
‘Are you all right?’ I whispered.
‘Yes!’ She grabbed her bike and threw herself on to it. ‘He said if we managed to find the first two hundred, he’d let us have her and we could pay off the rest on hire purchase … a bit every week.’
‘Oh! That’s wonderful,’ I said.
‘He wanted to charge us ten per cent interest but I beat him down to five, which is bad enough but at least it’s better than ten.’
‘No, no, it’s brilliant!’ I said. I stared at her admiringly. ‘I would never have thought of that!’’
Now all we had to do was find a couple of hundred pounds … urgently. We couldn’t bear the thought of our poor frightened girl having to stay in that horsey hell a minute longer than necessary.
We discussed all the ways we could think of for making money.
Katy said that she would ask her dad. ‘He might give us some. And my mum, perhaps.’ She sounded a bit more doubtful about her mum. Mrs Cooper is not at all an animal person. Not that she would ever be cruel to them; she just doesn’t think they’re as important as human beings.
I said sadly that there wasn’t much point in me asking my mum as I knew she didn’t have any.
‘I have some money in some bond things,’ said Katy. ‘But they won’t let me get at it until I’m twenty-one.’
‘I don’t have anything at all,’ I said. I didn’t even know what bond things were.
‘Maybe …’ Katy wrinkled her brow. ‘Maybe we could use our riding money? Like, save it each week instead of going riding?’
‘Without telling our mums?’
‘Well …’ Katy pulled a face. She obviously didn’t feel comfortable about it. I didn’t, either; I hated the thought of deceiving Mum. She had been so happy when she’d told me that at long last I could have my riding lessons! Riding lessons for me, new football kit for Benjy. Almost nothing for herself. She hadn’t even had her hair done, which was something she’d been talking about for simply ages.
‘Oh, what does it matter?’ she’d said. ‘It’s only vanity!’
But I reckoned that Mum deserved to be a bit vain once in a while.
‘I really hate the idea of giving money to that loathsome man,’ I said.
‘So do I,’ said Katy.
We both sighed. There are times when you just have to grit your teeth. Even if it did mean deceiving our mums. After all, it was to save a horse’s life. A poor, innocent, ill-used horse who had never hurt anyone but just done her best to please.
I reminded Katy of this and she said that I was quite right; we were Animal Samaritans and the animals must come first. We had to think of Rosie, not worry about where we were getting the money from.
‘Just so long as we get it. That’s all that matters.’
There was a bit of a silence before I said, ‘So where is it going to come from?’
‘Well, if we use next week’s riding money, that’s forty pounds before we even start! Then there’s our pocket money, five for you, six for me, that’s another eleven pounds, which makes fifty-one. Then if our mums would let us have a week’s pocket money in advance, that would make sixty-two … that would only leave …’ I could see her doing quick calculations in her head. ‘That would only leave a hundred and thirty-eight!’
‘Only?’ I said.
‘Well, it’s a start,’ said Katy. ‘And that’s without even trying!’
‘So where do we get the rest?’ My voice came out in a plaintive wail. Katy rolled her eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘it’s just that I’ve never even had a hundred and thirty-eight pounds!’
‘Me neither,’ said Katy. ‘Except in these silly bond things that I’m not allowed to touch. But it can’t be that difficult!’
We pedalled furiously up the lane.
‘Maybe,’ I said, ‘we could sell things?’
‘Yesss!’ Katy, triumphant, raised a clenched fist. ‘That’s a brilliant idea!’
‘Let’s go home and find something!’
We cycled home as fast as our pedals would take us.
‘Meet you in half an hour,’ I said.
The minute I got in I was ambushed by Benjy wanting t
o show me another drawing that he’d done. I gave it a brief glance and said, ‘Yes, lovely! What is it?’
Benjy said it was ‘an aminal’.
I didn’t wait to find out what kind of an aminal. I didn’t even correct him to ‘animal’. I said, ‘Sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush,’ and set off up the stairs. Almost immediately Mum’s voice called after me: ‘HannAH!’
Bother. Now what?
‘Mum, I’ve got things to do!’ I yelled.
‘Could you just stop for a moment, please?’
I ground my teeth. Sometimes a person just cannot call their life their own.
‘What is it?’
‘Don’t you take that tone of voice with me!’ said Mum. ‘I thought we’d made a bargain? In return for your pocket money … what was it you were going to do?’
‘Make-sure-I-dusted-and-vacuumed-my-room-and-put-my-things-away, which I promise I’m going to do just as soon as I’ve done something else, which is really, really urgent! Oh, and, Mum …’ I turned at the top of the stairs, putting on my sweetest smile. ‘Do you think you could let me have two weeks’ pocket money in advance?’
‘No,’ said Mum. ‘I don’t think you deserve it. What do you want it for, anyway?’
‘Well … I, um … I need it,’ I said. I didn’t want to tell her that it was part of the ransom money we had to pay to that hideous horrible man. She would only get in a fuss and start worrying in case we got into trouble.
‘What do you need it for?’ said Mum.
‘Just things.’
‘What things?’
I groaned inside my head. ‘I just want to buy something,’ I said. ‘A horsey thing.’ Well, it was sort of true. I mean, if a horse isn’t a horsey thing, what is? ‘It’s going cheap,’ I said. ‘It’s only on offer for a short while.’
And that probably was true. I just couldn’t see our poor darling Rosie lasting much longer the way she was being treated.
‘Mum, please,’ I said. ‘It’s desperate!’
‘I’ll think about it,’ said Mum. ‘When you’ve cleaned up all the mess in your room.’
I flew upstairs with Benjy hot on my heels, wanting me to look again at his drawing and guess what animal it was. I told him that I was sorry, I really didn’t have the time.