by Jean Ure
‘That is certainly one way of looking at it,’ said Mum. ‘Here!’ She reached for her bag. ‘Let me at least make it up to seventeen pounds for you.’
I hesitated.
‘What’s the matter?’ said Mum. ‘Not accepting charity?’
‘We’ll accept anything,’ I said. ‘But I wanted you to sponsor us for our sponsored walk!’
I told Mum what we were planning and she laughed and said she thought she could probably afford to sponsor us and make up our hard-earned money to £17. She was in a really good mood! (This was because she had finished her rush-job translation.) She even helped me work out the words to put on our sponsor form.
KATY AND HANNAH are going on a SPONSORED WALK to raise money for a POOR SICK HORSE. Please help!
And then there were three columns:
Name – Signature – Amount per lap
(round the sports field)
Mum filled in her name and wrote ‘50p’ in the last column, and I then took the form next door for Katy’s mum, who asked us how many laps we thought we’d do.
‘Oh, loads!’ said Katy.
Katy had become quite cheerful since having her tea and making up the accounts. Her mum used to be a bookkeeping person, so Katy knows about that sort of thing. She’d written it all out in her tiny neat handwriting (mine is rather large and sprawling).
FUND TO RESCUE ROSIE
Amount needed £200.00
Amount collected:
Riding money £40.00
Pocket money £11.00
Sale of Goods £5.00
Money from car park £16.20
Total £72.20
Amount still needed £127.80
‘And Mum just gave me eighty p,’ I said, so Katy promptly added that to the list as well.
‘We’re getting there!’ She announced it triumphantly. ‘Seventy-three pounds and we’ve only just started! But remember,’ she hissed, ‘these accounts are confidential!’
The reason they were confidential was that we were deceiving our mums. They didn’t know what we were planning to do with our riding money. I still felt bad about it, especially with Mum having given me that 80p, but this was a question of life and death. Plus I had sworn a solemn oath that I would always do my best to help an animal in need. Mum surely wouldn’t want me to break my word?
On Monday morning we took our sponsor forms into school and went round everyone in our class asking if they would sponsor us. Every single person did! Even a creep like Kevin Bone, who does nothing but make trouble, was shamed into it. He only put himself down for 1p per lap, and sniggered as if he thought he was being funny, but we were not too proud to accept it. Even that obnoxious pair Motormouth and her friend Caley finally gave in and added their names. They weren’t going to, not to begin with. When we first approached them they just sneered and started off on their ‘Why do you only care about animals?’ routine. But then Katy, very bold, went up to Mr O’Sullivan and asked him if he would sponsor us, and he said he would be only too happy to do so and put his name down for a whole pound. A pound for every lap we completed! Most people had only put 10p or even just 5p. Needless to say, once they discovered that Mr O’Sullivan was supporting us the obnoxious pair couldn’t wait to add their names.
‘We have decided,’ said Caley.
‘We have come to a decision,’ said Motormouth.
‘We will sponsor you just this once.’
‘But only for five p because of giving everything else to Oxfam.’
‘For the starving children.’
Katy, in lordly fashion, thanked them for their generosity and said that every little helped.
‘However pathetic.’
Caley tossed her head and said, ‘So when are you doing this walk, anyway?’
‘Tomorrow,’ I said. ‘In the lunch break.’
‘How do we know it’s genuine?’
When Caley said this, everybody groaned. We are not the only people who think she and the Mouth are obnoxious. Someone said, ‘Of course it’s genuine! They’re doing it for a sick horse.’
‘I just wanted to make sure,’ said Caley. ‘That’s all.’
‘Yes, and who’s going to check on them?’ said Motormouth. ‘There’s got to be someone who checks on them!’
‘We’ll tell you,’ I said. ‘As soon as Rosie is safe! We’ll let everyone know.’
‘I didn’t mean that, you idiot! I meant who’s going to check the number of laps you do?’
Oh! We hadn’t thought of that. But Mercy Humphries and Darren Bickerstaff said they would do it, so that was all right.
‘I mean, I’d trust you, personally speaking,’ said Darren. ‘Some people just have suspicious minds.’
‘No, but it ought to be official,’ said Katy. ‘That’s why I’m keeping accounts.’
On the way home after school we had an idea and knocked on Mrs B’s door.
‘Excuse us for troubling you,’ said Katy, ‘but we wondered if you would feel like sponsoring us?’
‘I daresay I could,’ said Mrs B. ‘So long as it’s for a good cause.’ She peered at the form I was holding out. ‘What’s it say? I can’t read it … Rescuing three-toed sloths from barbarian hordes?’
I giggled at that but told her it was for a poor sick horse, so she wished us luck and put her name down for a pound, like Mr O’Sullivan. Katy and I really began to feel that our goal was in sight!
‘I’m going to call my dad tonight,’ said Katy, ‘and see if he’ll give us something.’
With great excitement she told me next morning that her dad had promised two pounds for every lap.
‘We are definitely getting there!’
As soon as we could after we’d had our lunch we rushed to the playing field to begin the walk. Darren and Mercy sat solemnly side by side on a bench, with pen and paper, to record the number of laps.
I’d never realised quite how huge that playing field was until we started walking round it! The first lap took eleven minutes.
‘We’ve got to go faster than this!’ I said.
So then we speeded up and did the next lap in only nine.
‘That’s better!’ I panted.
Round and round the playing field we pounded. Lots of people, by now, had come to watch and cheer us on. We didn’t dare break into a run for fear some horrible person such as Motormouth would accuse us of cheating: ‘It’s meant to be a sponsored walk!’
‘Bell’s going in seven minutes,’ warned Darren, as we completed our fifth lap.
‘Think of Rosie, think of Rosie, think of Rosie!’
The words hammered through my brain as my feet hammered round the playing field. Left right, left right, think of Rosie, think of Rosie! Katy told me afterwards that she had been doing exactly the same thing.
‘Bell!’ shrieked Caley.
But we had made it! Six laps! Now all we had to do was collect the money …
Most people were really good; they came up to us at the end of the day and handed over what they had promised us. Just a few said they had forgotten and would bring it in next day, but we still staggered home with a huge pile of coins. We put it all in Katy’s school bag. It weighed a ton!
After tea we counted it. It came to £54.14!
‘And another £9.60 to come,’ gloated Katy.
She snatched up the accounts and began busily writing.
Amount outstanding £127.00
Sponsered walk £74.14
Still to come £33.60*
Total £107.74
Amount still needed £19.26
* This includes £12 from Katy’s dad
‘Look!’ She jabbed a triumphant finger. ‘We’re almost there!’
Almost, but not quite.
How were we going to get that last twenty pounds?
Next day at school we collected the rest of the money that people owed us. Every single person paid up! Even Caley and the Mouth.
But the Mouth told us something that made us really angry. She told us that
that hateful man at Farley Down hadn’t had to pay a single penny for taking Rosie!
‘He didn’t pay anything. Mrs Foster let him take her for free, just to get rid of her. When I told her you were collecting money to buy her back she said you were being utterly stupid. He’s conning you!’
Well! That was a bitter blow. That hideous man was just making money out of us.
Katy was so incensed she wanted to go racing out of school right there and then to tell old Chislett what she thought of him.
‘He’s nothing but a rotten cheat!’
I said, ‘He’s worse than a cheat. He’s a horse murderer.’
‘So’s Mrs Foster! She must have known what kind of person he was.’
‘Course she did. They’re all part of the horsey set. They all know each other.’
‘He can’t get away with this!’ panted Katy.
She was striding up and down the field, practically frothing at the mouth.
‘The awful thing is –’ I said it glumly – ‘he probably can.’
Rosie was his horse. He could ask whatever he liked for her.
‘If we go and yell at him he might decide we can’t have her at all. He might just send her to the knacker’s. The priority,’ I said, ‘is to rescue Rosie.’
Once Katy had calmed down a bit, she could see that I was right. We had to get that two hundred pounds before he changed his mind! I told Katy that as soon as Rosie was safe, she could go and yell at old Chislett as much as she wanted.
‘I will!’ said Katy. ‘Don’t you worry! I shall tell him I’m going to report him. I shall tell the newspapers. I shall tell everyone not to ride there. I shall—’
‘Burst a blood vessel if you’re not careful.’
That was the Mouth, strolling past with Caley.
‘What does she think she knows about horses, anyway?’ said Caley. ‘Stupid townie!’
I tugged Katy away before she could get into a slanging match. We had more important things to think about! Such as where the last twenty pounds was going to come from.
‘It’s no use me asking Mum for more pocket money,’ I said. ‘I just know she won’t give it to me.’
‘Neither will mine,’ said Katy. ‘And she won’t let me cash in my bonds. I’ve begged her and begged her, but she says it’s for when I’m twenty-one. What good’s that? I need it now!’
Rosie needed it now. Every minute she was in that horsey hell put her life in danger. We had to get that money! But how?
We racked our brains all the rest of the day. We racked them through French and history and double maths and even netball, and still nothing came.
‘Money!’ cried Katy, as we changed after netball. ‘How do we get money?’
Someone said, ‘Do a bank job!’ and everyone giggled. Everyone except me and Katy.
‘Seriously,’ I said.
‘You could always hold a raffle,’ said Mercy Humphries.
‘How?’ I spun round eagerly. ‘What do we have to do?’
‘It’s easy! You just get some prizes and write out some tickets and sell them at, say, fifty p each, and then pick the winning numbers out of a hat.’
‘But how do you make money? If you have to buy prizes?’
‘Well, mostly the prizes are given for free, which means you get to keep everything … You can make hundreds!’
Could it really be that simple?
No! Of course it couldn’t. Nothing ever was, was it? Just as we were starting to grow enthusiastic a stupid know-it-all girl called Sheryl Stevens busybodily informed us that you couldn’t hold raffles just like that.
‘You have to have permission. Otherwise it’s illegal.’
‘Who says?’ said Katy.
‘It just is. It’s against the law. As a matter of fact,’ said the stupid busybody, ‘what you did yesterday was probably against the law too.’
‘What, walking round the playing field?’
‘Getting people to give you money. My dad says it shouldn’t have been allowed.’
We stared at her in dismay.
‘We didn’t force anyone,’ said Katy.
‘No, but you didn’t have permission. It’s all right this time, because I told him it was for a poor sick horse and that you’re Animal Samaritans and it’s your mission in life. But you’d better not try holding a raffle. Not unless you want to get done for it.’
It was horribly dispiriting. Katy and I discussed it as we made our way home.
‘I thought it was supposed to be a free country,’ I grumbled.
‘That’s what they tell you.’
‘So why is it every time you just lift a finger to try and save a poor ill-treated animal they threaten to do you?’
‘Obviously because it’s not a free country,’ fumed Katy. ‘It’s all full of stupid rules and regulations.’
‘It’s a pity the rules and regulations don’t stop people torturing animals!’
As we turned into Honeypot Lane we saw old Mrs B and Sidney coming towards us. Sidney, as usual, waddled over for a cuddle.
‘So how’s it going?’ said Mrs B. ‘Have you managed to rescue that horse yet?’
Well! We didn’t need a second invitation. We immediately skidded to a halt and poured out all our grievances, one after another. Mrs Foster, and Chislett, and Sheryl Stevens’s dad, and how everything you tried to do turned out to be against the law unless it was torturing animals, which nobody except Katy and me seemed to care about.
‘Not even our mums! They just groan and go, oh, not again!’
‘Mine won’t even let me have my own money that was given to me by my gran!’
‘Everybody is against us,’ I said.
‘I know the feeling,’ said Mrs B. ‘It’s a bit of a pig’s ear, isn’t it? How much have you managed to collect?’
‘One hundred and eighty pounds and seventy-four p,’ said Katy.
I don’t know how she remembers these things! If it’s not a round number it just goes right out of my mind.
Mrs B said that it sounded to her as if we had made a pretty good start.
‘It’s where to go next,’ I said. ‘If we can’t hold a raffle …’
‘I know one thing you could do,’ said Mrs B. ‘You could help out an old lady with dodgy knees. How would you feel about walking Sidney for me every now and again? Say at the weekend? Just for a short while, give my aching bones a bit of a rest. What do you say? Fifteen pounds? Three weekends? Does that sound fair?’
Oh! It seemed more than fair. We would have walked Sidney without ever dreaming to ask for money! I even got as far as opening my mouth to say so, but fortunately Katy dug me in the ribs just in time.
‘All right, then,’ said Mrs B. ‘We have a deal! I’ll see you tomorrow. You can have the money up front, if you like. No point keeping you waiting.’
How I wish there were more people like Mrs B! Katy and I were positively jubilant!
‘All we’ll need now,’ said Katy, ‘is the odd twenty-six p.’
‘Twenty-six p is nothing,’ I said.
We could rescue Rosie this coming Saturday!
I told Benjy as soon as I got in.
‘We’ve got enough money to rescue the poor sick horse, and you were one of the people that helped! All those toys you gave us to sell … we couldn’t have done it without you!’
Benjy was ever so pleased. He is quite a soft-hearted little boy. He wanted to know where we were going to keep the poor sick horse. He thought maybe in the back garden! I told him no, the garden wasn’t big enough, she would need a proper stable – which reminded me we had never got around to ringing that horse sanctuary out at Spindle Down. We had been concentrating so hard on raising money that it had quite slipped our minds. The most important thing had been to get Rosie out of the hands of that hideous horrible man. We hadn’t stopped to ask ourselves where she was going to go. We had to ring that sanctuary straight away!
‘Mum,’ I said, ‘I’m just going round to Katy’s.’
I
thought that Katy might be better than me at ringing. Katy thought that I would be better than her.
‘You’re good at talking to people!’
‘But you’re better at arguing!’
‘I don’t see why we should have to argue,’ said Katy. ‘All you’ve got to do is just tell them we’ve rescued a horse.’
Well. That is what you would think. But things just never seem to work out the way you want them to.
First off, the sanctuary was FULL.
Second, all the people who took horses for them in emergencies were FULL.
Third, they seemed to think I was about six years old and didn’t know what I was talking about.
Katy could see that I was getting more and more frustrated. She snatched the phone away from me.
‘Please!’ she begged. ‘You’ve got to help us; this horse will die if you don’t! She’s got damaged lungs and they’re riding her to death and we’ve raised all this money to rescue her and if you don’t take her there’s nowhere else she can go. WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO?’
I stared at her, awestruck. I had never seen Katy like this! I had been trying so hard to be cool and calm and rational, and there was Katy practically having hysterics and it seemed they were listening to her because suddenly she cried, ‘Oh, please! Please try!’
‘What?’ I said. ‘What’s happening?’
‘They’re going to ring round all the people they can think of and see if they can find someone who’ll take her.’
‘They’re going to do it now?’
‘Yes!’
‘So when will they let us know?’
‘Soon as they’ve found someone.’
Oh, please, I thought, let it be soon!
That was another night I didn’t sleep. There are lots of sleepless nights when you’re rescuing animals. There are just so many things to worry about. So many things to be upset about. Your head simply buzzes. I never tell Mum because I know if I did she’d only start on about school and about all this stress not being good for me.
‘You won’t be able to concentrate, Hannah, if you don’t have your sleep.’
It was true that next day neither me nor Katy was in much of a concentrating mood but it wasn’t because of not having enough sleep, it was because of thinking about Rosie and what would happen to her if the sanctuary couldn’t find anyone to take her.