Ponies at Owls' Wood (6 page)

‘When they came out later the woman had disappeared but the man had his arm round Pete and they both looked red in the face – you know how men go?'

Hannah didn't, but she nodded anyway.

‘They were laughing and then they shook hands. On the way back with the trailer, Pete said to me that I'd got to help him clear out the old barn in the wood. He said he'd got a new use for it, and that this time he thought he might make a bit of money.'

‘What happened to the ponies you took to the sale?' asked Hannah, dreading the answer.

Jess bit her lip. ‘He let them go with that horrible couple. I saw the man give him a roll of notes. I'd been asking him to let me keep them and teach them to be ridden but he said he couldn't afford the feed. But they were only in the paddock. He's just mean.'

‘Have you got a pony of your own?' Hannah asked her.

‘No. I ride whatever Pete has passing through. I wouldn't trust him, if I had one of my own, not to knock it about. There's a mare in the field at the moment that I've been taking out, but it's not much fun on your own.' This was something Hannah did know about.

The girls had been so distracted by their conversation that Hannah hadn't noticed that they'd stopped walking and were standing outside a long, low shed, well camouflaged by age and by the branches growing round it. They were in a part of the wood that she hadn't known existed. The trees clearly extended way beyond the area where she had always felt safe. Now she saw that while she and Jess had been talking, the path they'd been following had dropped down quite some way and they were standing in a clearing where there were fewer trees and nettles and thistles had taken over. The building was almost hidden from view. As Hannah and Jess moved closer, she saw that it looked ready to collapse, but new locks had been attached to a double door at one end. Some sort of a pathway of stones and moss led from it up the other side of the slope, and wound away through the trees. Jess led her round the back of the building.

‘Stand on this!' she said, gesturing to an old oil barrel. ‘You can see through the slats at the top.'

Hannah climbed up and stood, peering through jagged bits of wood into the semi darkness. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust but then she began to make out the shapes of a number of ponies of different sizes. It looked as if two were foals.

Hannah stared down and her heart sank as she saw the poor state of them. They were tied up, which seemed quite unnecessary since they couldn't leave the barn anyway. A few piles of mouldy hay were dotted about, but not necessarily where the ponies could reach them. She could see no water at all.

As she climbed down Jess said, ‘I'm guessing they've all been stolen. Otherwise, he'd keep them up the top like he usually does. I reckon he's been offered money if he keeps them here for a few weeks while their owners report them missing and the police start looking. Then when it's gone quiet they move them out again. A lorry comes up the track to ours in the night and they load them up and take them away.' Hannah could see that Jess was close to tears.

‘There were eighteen in there last week,' she went on, ‘but they fetched two loads on Saturday night. These are the next to go and I'd guess it's this Saturday that they'll come again. The one I led to your field was with these. I felt so sorry for him with his sore neck. Pete hasn't missed him yet.'

Hannah didn't know what to say, but she could feel the anger building up inside her, and at that very minute she almost wished she
could
meet Pete.

‘I've been trying to help them,' said Jess, ‘but he gets angry if he finds me here. He brings them water every night but that's about all. The hay he gets is really poor.'

‘What about the ones that were on the news?' asked Hannah. ‘How come your uncle wasn't caught?'

‘They were up at the farm,' said Jess, ‘waiting for the overnight lorry. But when Pete realised they'd been seen by those kids he made me help him bring them back here, and called the lorry to delay them. So, by the time the police came the ponies seemed to have gone. The weather's been so dry they didn't even leave any tracks. And nobody's going to find this barn, unless they already know it.'

‘What can we do?' asked Hannah. ‘I know I said I didn't agree with calling the police, but that was before I saw this! Now I really think we should.'

‘If the police come, they won't believe me over Pete, and then I'll be dead,' said Jess simply.

Hannah felt that for now, at least, she'd have to take Jess's word for it.

‘What I wondered is, can they go to your field?' Jess asked, ‘then we can get help from there.' Hannah saw that Jess had her arms crossed and was shivering. She'd asked the question calmly but it was obvious that she felt anything but calm.

‘Course they can,' said Hannah. She tried to smile reassuringly as her throat dried up and she couldn't say anything more for a minute. She wondered if it was later than mid-afternoon as the light seemed somehow to be fading, and the woods had become very quiet. She tried to pull herself together and remembered her anger of five minutes ago. Yes, they would move the ponies, and save them from their terrible fate.

‘How many ponies are there?' she asked, ‘and how are we going to do it?'

‘Eight,' said Jess, ‘but two of them are foals and won't need leading. We'll have to go at night. Can you get out without your parents knowing?' Hannah reckoned that she could, and for the first time felt glad that her mother was with her singing group.

‘I'll try,' she replied, thinking that her father always fell asleep within seconds and never even heard thunderstorms. Liam and Talia were a different matter, but it should still be possible. She felt scared at the thought of it, but also more determined to help the ponies than she'd ever felt about anything before. She had a sudden thought.

‘I met a woman this morning,' she said, ‘who was looking for children's ponies to buy or rescue. She seemed OK but d'you think she might be spying on your uncle?'

‘Did she have fat legs?' Jess asked. ‘Was she driving a blue car?'

‘That's her. She said she was running a rescue centre and was looking for ponies to help.'

‘Ponies to steal, more like,' said Jess. ‘She's been up here a few times. She's the one from the sale. I think Pete likes her 'cos he gets all smarmy when she comes. They're in it together with her husband, or that's who I suppose he is. And he's even more horrible.'

‘Did you say you had a gran?' asked Hannah. ‘Can't she and Cyn hear what's going on when the lorry comes?'

‘Gran takes her hearing aid out at night so she can't hear a thing. I don't know about Cyn, but Pete says she drinks so much that she doesn't know the time of day. By the middle of the evening she's usually ready to pass out.' Jess went on, ‘It's Wednesday today, and if I'm right about the lorry coming on Saturday we'll need to move them on Friday night. We haven't got much time. Are you up for it?'

Hannah nodded. She looked at Jess and, although there wasn't much of an age difference between them, she realised that she felt much older than this skinny girl. She felt the need to protect her and wanted to know more about her story. Still she sensed that too many questions would be unwelcome.

‘You could come and meet my gran,' suggested Jess. ‘Come over tomorrow while Pete's at the sales – he's always out on Thursdays. Gran would like it if I'd made a friend, and so would Auntie Cyn. They worry about me. You could come on your pony.'

‘I'll try to,' said Hannah. A thought occurred to her. ‘Aren't you worried that Pete will see the pony you moved to my field. He must drive that way?'

‘I was,' said Jess. ‘But he hasn't missed him. So many are passing through at the moment, so why should he care? Plus, your field has all those trees and stuff around it.'

Hannah hoped Jess was right.

‘OK, I'll come tomorrow then,' she said. ‘I'll have to spend a bit of time with the ponies first though. At least I know now what happened to Jack's neck.'

‘Jack?'

‘That's what I've called the cob.'

‘I called him Patch,' said Jess. ‘But Jack suits him better. Promise you'll come tomorrow? I'll text you when Pete's gone and it's safe.'

Jess led Hannah back to a part of the wood that she recognised. They said goodbye and as Hannah made her way quickly along the grassy path, she thought with trepidation about what they planned to do. What if Pete caught them? What if they couldn't manage to move eight ponies all in one go between them? What if she was accused of stealing them? Then she tried to decide whether she should tell Tom what had happened.

She was deep in these thoughts when she was startled by a crackle of twigs behind her. Before she could turn around, a hand came down on her shoulder. It gripped hard, and a quiet voice said: ‘Now then girlie, what are you doing alone in these woods?'

The hand held her shoulder like a vice. She tried to turn round but found that she couldn't move.

‘I asked you what you're doing,' said the voice.

‘I'm just walking,' gasped Hannah, ‘my bike's up the slope and I'm going back to it now.' She could feel herself trembling. The man turned her round to look at him. She saw thin lips behind a scrawny beard, and two mean eyes.

‘Let me go!' shouted Hannah. ‘My big brother's waiting up the top for me.'

‘Push off then,' said the man, ‘but don't let me find you in these woods again. They're private property, and another time I'll have to teach you a lesson.' He smiled. ‘I would enjoy that.' He gave her a shove as he released her.

Hannah ran until she was out of his sight and then in a panic she sent a text to Jess, her fingers getting the letters all wrong:

met pete neve sed I nu u sorry

She ran the rest of the way back up the slope, wishing that Liam really was there to meet her.

6

Gran

Jess climbed back up the slope away from the shed where the ponies were. The woods were quiet as the ponies dozed in apathy. Jess had got Hannah's text and was preparing a look of surprise for when Pete questioned her, as he was bound to do: ‘What girl … ?'

She thought about Hannah. She'd seemed OK, quite nice even, but was she really going to help her go through with the rescue? Jess wasn't at all sure. Although Jess was younger she felt that she was far the more experienced one, and felt protective of her new friend Hannah, as well as anxious about her.

She wondered what life in a large family would be like. Hannah had mentioned a brother and sister as well as two parents, but she hadn't seemed that happy about it. Jess conjured up a picture of Hannah arriving home to have tea with her sister, the two of them chatting companionably as they ate buttered toast together, or her brother, playing music in his room then coming down to join them, ruffling Hannah's hair affectionately and asking her how her day had gone.

Then Jess came into the empty farmhouse kitchen and back to reality. There were dirty plates stacked up by the sink, and a margarine carton of soggy tea bags sat next to an open tin of cat food on the table. She remembered days here that had been different. Her Auntie Cyn standing at the cooker lifting out a tray of homemade cakes or testing to see whether the toffee she'd made had set, dunking spoons of the bubbling mixture into cups of cold water and calling for Jess to keep the cups coming. Gran sitting by the fire, as she used to before she'd escaped to the peace of the caravan, telling stories of her young days when she'd helped with the shire horses on her father's farm and ridden the biggest one home from the fields after harvest. At that time, Jess had had her own pony too, bought for her by Gran but now sadly outgrown and moved on to a new owner.

What had gone wrong? Pete, of course, and the drinking. They'd started at the same time. There had still been some happy evenings, when Pete had managed to sell a horse or had got some extra money. He would play his country music and he and Cyn would sing together or even dance, Cyn looking happy for as long as Pete's good mood lasted. Or later on, when they would go over to Gran's caravan for the evening and he would be polite to Gran, and even ask Jess about school as if he was interested in her answer. But other times, perhaps only the day following a happy evening, Pete would pull Jess behind the door, out of sight of her aunt, and pinch her arm or cuff her on the back. She never had any idea of what she was supposed to have done wrong.

Cyn came into the kitchen.

‘Hello love,' she said to Jess. ‘Shall we have fish fingers for tea tonight? And I must make some sandwiches for Pete. He's off to the sales tomorrow.' She gazed out of the kitchen window. ‘That woman's been up here again,' she added. ‘Miss Lycra I call her. Pete says she runs a shelter for horses but I've never met a horsewoman wearing those kind of shorts.'