only inside for a few moments, before they crashed out of the door again.
“You’ll never guess what,” Alice said, taking Scout’s reins and jumping back into the saddle.
“Just tell me!” Charlie said impatiently, handing the others back their reins and mounting again. She hated being the last to know news.
“There are loads of names on the petition,”Mia filled her in, as she and Rosie jumped up and the four ponies started to walk the short distance home. “But, starting from the top, the first is Long Lane Livery…”
“The next is Mrs Maplethorp,” Alice continued.
Charlie started. “So, the first two the people who’ve objected to the Abbey shutting off their rides have ended up with their ponies being let loose! It’s like it’s some kind of revenge or something!”
“And wait for it,” Rosie pressed on. “The third name on the list is—” But Rosie didn’t get a chance to finish.
“Don’t tell me,” Charlie jumped in, “it’s Mrs Greenfield, from Greenfield’s Riding School.”
“Got it in one!” Rosie said, all fired up.
“So who signed the petition next, then?” Charlie asked, as the ponies pricked their ears and lengthened their stride, recognising that they were on their way home.
The others looked at each other, then at Charlie.
“Fran Hope,” Alice said.
They all thought about the ragged collection of animals up at Hope Farm, every single one of them dear to Fran’s heart. But for Charlie, there was one animal that was dearer than all the rest. Pirate. Her beloved first pony, whose paddock at Hope Farm sat right alongside the road…
Chapter Nine
B Y the time the girls got back to the yard that afternoon, the chilly darkness was already closing in. The four friends were still a bit shaken from what had happened at the Abbey, but there was no time to sit down. They led their weary ponies into the stables, and untacked, groomed and checked them thoroughly for injuries.
All Charlie wanted to do was collapse, but she knew that Phantom was her first priority. Although it was cold, Charlie stood Phantom in the yard and hosed his lower legs down with cool water. She ran her hands down them, relieved that the hard tendons down the back of his cannon bones were not showing any lumps or swellings. Then she dried his legs off, and wrapped them in stable bandages.
Each of them rugged up their ponies extracosily, then lugged stuffed haynets into their stables. While the ponies tucked in gratefully, the girls turned on the yard lights, and made up the feeds. They took them back to the stables, and left the ponies to finish eating in peace.
Next, it was Cracker and Frostie’s turn. The girls made up more feeds, then trudged over the sheep field in the almost darkness. As they appeared by the rickety wooden railings the two horses whickered and trotted up to meet them, ears pricked. They nose dived into the buckets, eating alongside each other companionably, raising their heads to chew and have a relaxed look round.
“As soon as we get back to the yard,” Alice said, “we’d better ring Fran. We need to warn her about the names on the petition list.”
The others agreed, as they stood watching the two horses chomp their feed contentedly. Charlie stood, resting one gloved hand on Cracker’s stocky neck. She could feel that he was toasty and warm in his rugs. Once Cracker had finished, Charlie bent down and scooped the last morsels of food from the curve of thefeed bucket, and swished it into the middle. Cracker nudged her hand out of the way, and greedily lipped the last few mouthfuls.
“I know it might sound horrible,” Charlie said, “but I don’t want these two to go to Fran’s now, not if there’s any chance that Hope Farm might be targeted next by the Abbey, or Billy at least. I’d hate for anything to happen to either of them.”
“Me too,” Rosie agreed, quickly. “Can’t we ask Fran if they can stay here? I can see if Dad can fix that spare
“You’ll never guess what,” Alice said, taking Scout’s reins and jumping back into the saddle.
“Just tell me!” Charlie said impatiently, handing the others back their reins and mounting again. She hated being the last to know news.
“There are loads of names on the petition,”Mia filled her in, as she and Rosie jumped up and the four ponies started to walk the short distance home. “But, starting from the top, the first is Long Lane Livery…”
“The next is Mrs Maplethorp,” Alice continued.
Charlie started. “So, the first two the people who’ve objected to the Abbey shutting off their rides have ended up with their ponies being let loose! It’s like it’s some kind of revenge or something!”
“And wait for it,” Rosie pressed on. “The third name on the list is—” But Rosie didn’t get a chance to finish.
“Don’t tell me,” Charlie jumped in, “it’s Mrs Greenfield, from Greenfield’s Riding School.”
“Got it in one!” Rosie said, all fired up.
“So who signed the petition next, then?” Charlie asked, as the ponies pricked their ears and lengthened their stride, recognising that they were on their way home.
The others looked at each other, then at Charlie.
“Fran Hope,” Alice said.
They all thought about the ragged collection of animals up at Hope Farm, every single one of them dear to Fran’s heart. But for Charlie, there was one animal that was dearer than all the rest. Pirate. Her beloved first pony, whose paddock at Hope Farm sat right alongside the road…
Chapter Nine
B Y the time the girls got back to the yard that afternoon, the chilly darkness was already closing in. The four friends were still a bit shaken from what had happened at the Abbey, but there was no time to sit down. They led their weary ponies into the stables, and untacked, groomed and checked them thoroughly for injuries.
All Charlie wanted to do was collapse, but she knew that Phantom was her first priority. Although it was cold, Charlie stood Phantom in the yard and hosed his lower legs down with cool water. She ran her hands down them, relieved that the hard tendons down the back of his cannon bones were not showing any lumps or swellings. Then she dried his legs off, and wrapped them in stable bandages.
Each of them rugged up their ponies extracosily, then lugged stuffed haynets into their stables. While the ponies tucked in gratefully, the girls turned on the yard lights, and made up the feeds. They took them back to the stables, and left the ponies to finish eating in peace.
Next, it was Cracker and Frostie’s turn. The girls made up more feeds, then trudged over the sheep field in the almost darkness. As they appeared by the rickety wooden railings the two horses whickered and trotted up to meet them, ears pricked. They nose dived into the buckets, eating alongside each other companionably, raising their heads to chew and have a relaxed look round.
“As soon as we get back to the yard,” Alice said, “we’d better ring Fran. We need to warn her about the names on the petition list.”
The others agreed, as they stood watching the two horses chomp their feed contentedly. Charlie stood, resting one gloved hand on Cracker’s stocky neck. She could feel that he was toasty and warm in his rugs. Once Cracker had finished, Charlie bent down and scooped the last morsels of food from the curve of thefeed bucket, and swished it into the middle. Cracker nudged her hand out of the way, and greedily lipped the last few mouthfuls.
“I know it might sound horrible,” Charlie said, “but I don’t want these two to go to Fran’s now, not if there’s any chance that Hope Farm might be targeted next by the Abbey, or Billy at least. I’d hate for anything to happen to either of them.”
“Me too,” Rosie agreed, quickly. “Can’t we ask Fran if they can stay here? I can see if Dad can fix that spare
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