Moonlight: Star of the Show (8 page)

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Authors: Belinda Rapley

BOOK: Moonlight: Star of the Show
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T
HE
cockerels woke Alice up after what felt like only five minutes of sleep. Once one started, a whole chorus followed, making further sleep impossible.

It was light and sunny outside, with the slight chill of early morning, when Alice rolled out of bed and walked over to the open window to see Scout in the paddock. Charlie was already up and dressed, jumping about excitedly. Mia sat up without a hair out of place, looking as perfect as she did when she’d got into bed. Rosie snorted and turned to face the wall, muttering something about Cups and refusals and just five more minutes.

Although Alice felt exhausted, she couldn’t have gone back to sleep because her stomach
had started churning. Once Rosie had finally been dragged out of bed, she and the others ate a full cooked breakfast served up by a sleepy Mrs Honeycott, but Alice only just managed to force down a glass of orange juice and half a slice of toast with home-made bramble jelly.

They dressed quickly in their old gear to get the ponies ready, and rushed out of the back door into the yard. They waved to Mr Honeycott and Will, who were already out in the fields looking at some of their free-range calves.

The sky was a perfect, cloudless blue – it was going to be a sweltering day. The ponies whickered noisily when the girls walked towards their paddock. Dancer was resting one front hoof on the bottom rung of the gate, excited about her breakfast.

As they slipped the ponies’ headcollars on, Charlie suddenly cried out. Pirate had managed to rub his tail bandage off so that it was trailing round behind him, and the top of his tail hair
was sticking out like a toilet brush. Alice was so nervous that she laughed far too loudly and earned herself a black look from Charlie.

Alice knew it was pretty hard to get a grey pony to shine like a chestnut or a bay, but Scout was ultra clean and his dapples stood out beautifully after she’d finished grooming him. Then she began to plait Scout’s mane, and he dropped his head for her, shifting his weight and resting his off hind so that his hips were really angled. Alice wasn’t very good at it and each plait got fatter and looser. It wasn’t until right at the end that she remembered there was supposed to be an odd number of plaits up the neck, with one last one in the forelock making it even. Alice had ten by the time she reached Scout’s ears, so she had to undo the last plait and hastily divide it into two weedy ones.

Once they were all finished grooming, they rushed back to the cottage to get changed into their show gear. Mia looked immaculate in her
cream jods, her sparkling jodhpur boots, brown gloves and smart fitted black jacket. Her bright pink tie with silver spots was striking against her olive skin, her silky black hair tied back with a bright pink ribbon under her black velvet hat. She made the rest of them seem even shabbier than usual in their older, inexpensive jackets and slightly off-colour jods.

Back in the yard they fetched their tack, and Alice worried again about how slippery her polished saddle would be. Her fingers were shaking so much that she could hardly buckle the straps on the bridle or the girth. But finally, they were ready. When Mia pulled Wish out of the stable, the others gasped. The palomino mare, with her creamy mane and tail plaited, her dark eyes framed by her long fluttery eyelashes in her delicately curved dished head, looked even more incredible than usual. It would take a sensational pony to beat her into second place.

Charlie had battled heroically with Pirate’s tail,
but it still looked like a curled-up hedgehog, and Dancer had even fatter plaits than Scout.

“Ready?” Mia asked as they all mounted. Rosie had an empty bucket and a bottle of Mia’s pony shampoo ready for their plan proudly swinging over her arm.

Alice sat there for half a second before rapidly dismounting again. “Oooh, hang on a sec, I need the loo!”

As she dashed off, Rosie muttered. “Not again!”

Alice hurried back, trying to calm herself, but her legs had turned to jelly and she put the wrong foot into the stirrup before managing to get up, and they finally set off.

It only took fifteen minutes to hack along the lanes to the show, but if Alice thought the ride would calm her down she was wrong; her nerves were getting worse with every stride. They dismounted, loosened off their girths and headed straight for the secretary’s tent to pick up their numbers as soon as they arrived.

“Mia, look,” Rosie said as she found her name on the list and scanned down the rest. “Mark’s name isn’t on the list for the Fratton Cup!”

“Hmm, he must be planning to do a late entry,” Mia mused, running her finger down the list to double-check. “That way he’ll keep a low profile until the last second.”

They didn’t have much time to think about it though because it was nearly time for Charlie’s class, the 13.2hh-and-under showjumping, and Charlie was one of the first to go. She rode over to the warm-up ring and started to walk, trot and canter an over-excited Pirate. He whizzed round the outside of the ring, terrorising any other pony that got too close, and flew over the practice jumps a few times before Charlie was called into the main ring for her round.

The others made their way to the edge of the rope marking off the ring. They watched as Pirate careered round, charging at each fence like a maniac. He even managed to take a stride out
between the two fences in the double. Charlie sat quietly, anticipating Pirate’s every stride, but the bay clonked the back pole and after that he knocked every fence, sending three more flying.

“Sixteen jumping faults for Charlie Hall riding her own Pirate,” the judge announced over a crackly loudspeaker as Charlie rode out, smiling, to a smattering of claps.

“Not our lucky day.” She shrugged, patting Pirate as she dismounted and gave him a handful of pony nuts from her pocket. She loosened her tie thankfully as the sun beat down, and Alice felt a twist in her stomach, wondering whether Charlie’s bad start was going to set the tone for the rest of them. And for Poppy.

She didn’t have long to wonder about fate, because as Charlie dismounted Mia said that it was time for her to start working in Wish for her showing class.

“Hang on a sec, is that who I think it is?” Charlie said, leaning over Pirate’s saddle after
loosening his girth, and squinting in the direction of the showground entrance. The others followed her gaze. Alice suddenly squeaked.

“It’s Mark!” she said breathlessly, pointing to the far edge of the field. Mark’s sleek, expensive horsebox was hard to miss, rolling in and bumping gently to a standstill among the other smaller, battered trailers.

“He’s seriously early,” Mia frowned, checking her watch. “The Fratton Cup doesn’t start for at least an hour, and if Mark hasn’t registered yet for the class he’ll be one of the last to ride, after Alice.”

Suddenly Mia wasn’t sure what to do – she didn’t want to miss her warm-up on Wish, but she couldn’t miss seeing Mark bring Moonlight out of his horsebox either.

“I bet he keeps Moonlight in the box for ages, though,” Rosie said. “I mean, he can’t parade him round for too long before the class starts in case he gets recognised, even
with
a disguise. I reckon
you’ll have time to do your class first, Mia.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Charlie said suddenly. “Look, he’s getting ready to open the ramp!”

“Quick!” Mia said urgently, feeling a rush of excitement and nerves over what they were about to do. “Time to get our plan under way. First things first – we need to find Poppy!”

The four of them looked round frantically, thrown by Mark’s unexpectedly early appearance. For a moment Alice was convinced they’d never find Poppy in time and they’d miss their moment to reveal Moonlight. She had visions of Mark carrying the Cup away unchallenged. Then her legs wobbled at the thought of the Cup.

“There she is!” Charlie cried. She’d leaped back onto Pirate and was standing up in her stirrups, pointing over to the tea and lemonade tent.

“Right, Charlie, you take the ponies and I’ll keep an eye on Mark. Rosie, fill your bucket and take up your position,” Mia instructed. “Alice, you go and collect Poppy.”

“Erm. Okay,” Alice replied hesitantly.

“What now?” Mia asked testily.

“Um, can someone just keep an eye on Poppy for me for one sec?” Alice asked, dancing slightly on the spot.

“Where are you off to?” Mia hissed. “You can’t disappear now!”

“Got to!” Alice replied, dashing towards the Portaloos for the fifth time.

When she got back Mia was gesturing at her wildly. Mark had lowered his ramp and was heading up it, disappearing inside the horsebox.

“Right, everyone – to your positions,” Mia said, sounding very grand.

Alice scooted off towards Poppy, but when it came to approaching her, Alice suddenly realised that she hadn’t even thought about what she was going to say. ‘Hello Poppy, we’ve found Moonlight for you. Step this way’? Or how about, ‘Poppy, Special Agent Alice Hathaway here. We’ve located your missing pony’? In the end she kept it simple.

“Poppy?” she said.

Poppy turned round. Her eyes looked haunted, and Alice could tell at once that losing Moonlight hadn’t got any easier. Her face was pale and, although she smiled faintly, it was obviously difficult for her being surrounded by so many ponies when her own wasn’t there. But not for long, Alice told herself.

“I, we, my friends and I, we think we may have something you might like to see.”

Poppy looked puzzled but followed Alice back through the crowds. They stopped near Mark’s horsebox. Only it was obvious at once that things weren’t going according to plan, and Alice edged closer so that she could hear what they were saying. She had expected to walk over just in time to hear Mia declare her code word, see Rosie toss the water and Moonlight reappear right before Poppy’s eyes.

Instead, Mia was looking cross and harassed while Mark was standing with one hand on
his hip. In the other he was holding a lead rope, and at the end of that lead rope stood an exquisite pony. An exquisite
white
pony. Not only did this pony have one white back leg, it had three other white ones as well. Alice knew at once that no amount of soapy water could possibly transform this particular pony from white to white-with-lots-of-black-patches.

Mark’s new pony was not Moonlight. Mark was not guilty as charged, and they’d nabbed the wrong culprit. But Mia seemed determined to ignore the glaringly obvious flaw in their case and desperately reeled off the clues from her notebook. When she had finished, Mark’s lips curled into a nasty smile.

“So, you’re the one who’s been poking her nose into other people’s business, are you? Harry told me and Dad all about you. Well, if you must know, this is the pony we’ve had our eye on; this is the proven winner Harry arranged for Dad to buy from a top showing contact of his at great
cost, specially for this show.” Mark turned and looked at his white pony smugly. “I wanted to keep Cloud Nine secret until today so that when I rode into that ring everyone would be totally wowed by him. I didn’t want anyone to get wind of it beforehand, especially not the judge. This way we get maximum impact. I got fed up of losing in the jumping, and Ridden Show Pony seems like the easiest class in the world to win, so I reckon I’ve got this one stitched up. All I have to do is ride a few silly circles and the first prize will be mine. I’m not competing in the stupid Cup, so Poppy’s not my rival this year; you are. Prepare to be beaten, Miss Busy Body.”

Mia’s mouth dropped open.

“But showing’s not just about having the fanciest pony with the best conformation, you know,” she pointed out furiously, feeling personally insulted by Mark’s take on her and Wish’s favourite class. “You need serious riding skills, too, to be able to school your pony to perfection. And you’ve got
to be in harmony so that you can show off your pony’s best bits, as well as looking totally, utterly smart, of course.”

Mia shook her head. She was aware that other riders were starting to gather, pausing on their way past, listening in to their argument, but she didn’t care. She narrowed her eyes. “We may not have got all our facts right, but there’s one thing we were right about, and that’s you, Mark. Whichever way you look at it, you’re nothing but a cheat!”

At that moment, hearing the code word, Rosie charged round the corner of the box. She tripped on a clump of grass and, as she fell to the earth, flung the water bucket for all she was worth. Cloud Nine dodged to one side, and Mia ducked to the other. Taken by surprise, Mark didn’t do either. He stayed exactly where he was. The water hit him full in the face, and he stood there, his smart showing jacket and jodhpurs drenched. Mark was speechless, spluttering in disbelief, as the watching group of riders gasped then
started to giggle. Mia hadn’t even meant to say the code word, but she’d blurted it out without thinking after hearing what he’d done. She held her hand to her mouth for a second before Rosie grabbed her, and they turned tail and ran, laughing like hyenas. At that moment Mark’s dad walked around the horsebox, stopping in his tracks and looking furious that the pony he’d just bought at great expense to ensure victory was about to be ridden by a totally sodden rider.

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