Prize Problems (11 page)

What do you intend to do if we tell you what you want to know?” Sprout asked me. I gulped. Surround by the ponies, I felt as though we'd done something wrong and the ponies were judging us. It was the weirdest sensation. From Sprout's serious tone, it was as though the ponies were on the side of the thief. It was all very strange. I decided to consult Bean—mainly because she was tugging at my sleeve and demanding I tell her what was going on.

“Who is it?” she whispered.

“I don't know yet. They want to know what we're going to do if they tell us,” I explained.

“Oh. I don't know. I just want my gloves back. We want Grace to get Major back and for Amber to get her silver charm back. That's all.”

I turned to Sprout. He and Shadow were the easiest ponies to see in the gloom and they both gleamed silver in the moonlight. Harry and Cherokee's white patches looked like floating lava lamp blobs, suspended eerily in mid-air. I could see Dot-2-Dot quite clearly—her spots looked like she was full of holes—but Sorrel looked sort of dark gray.

“The thing is,” interrupted Harry, pushing his way past Sprout and standing in front of me, “we need you to understand that the person behind all this thievin' may have problems, issues like, that you don't know about.”

“Is it Grace?” I said. “I know she has problems with her mom. We don't want to upset her but it isn't right that other people have to suffer. Bean wants her gloves back, and Amber's silver charm is valuable.”

“Why would it be Grace?” asked Bean.

“They say the thief has issues,” I explained.

“Has she got a cold?”

“What?”

“What do tissues have to do with anything?”

“Not tissues, issues!” I hissed.

“Well, I've got issues, we've all got issues,” muttered Bean moodily. “I don't take my issues out on other people by stealing their stuff!”

“You're not helping,” I said.

“Sorry. Only we could all use issues as an excuse!”

“What I am trying to explain,” Harry continued, “is that just 'cause a person appears to be a pain in the tail, appears not to fit in, appears to behave in a way that puts people against them, it doesn't mean they don't have a reason to behave that way.”

“Sometimes a person is so desperate for friends, their attempts to win people over have the very opposite effect,” explained Sprout, not explaining at all. “It's a cry for help.”

I sighed. All this dancing around the issue was making me very confused.

“Why don't you just explain everything to us?” I suggested. “Then we might understand what you mean. I don't understand anything at the moment.”

“We need you to promise not to be judgmental,” Harry said solemnly. “You must promise not to reveal the secret we tell you tonight—about the thief.”

I relayed it all to Bean and we both nodded, agreeing to the terms. I felt a bit spooked—what secret were we going to learn and did we really want to know it?

Harry cleared his throat. Bean tugged at my sleeve. “What's he saying?” she asked earnestly.

“Nothing yet,” I told her. If I was going to translate every word we would be here all night. I half-wished I'd come alone, but knew I'd never have made it past the front door without some moral support. I was too much of a wuss.

“Do you know that people's behavior is often a result of how other people treat them?” Harry asked. “And that confident, attractive people get a positive reaction from others, which in turn has a snowball effect, making them even more confident and attractive?”

I repeated it to Bean and I could hear her nodding furiously. She obviously understood more than I did. I sort of understood. It was a bit like my mom—once she'd had her makeover and felt confident, she had acted more confidently. Since then, she'd had loads of boyfriends. They hadn't wanted to know when she'd shuffled around feeling sorry for herself. An image of a shiny, hairless man with my mom leapt uninvited into my mind. I shook it out. Not the right time to be focusing on that!

“Think of the person on this holiday everyone has been most negative about—you two included,” Harry told us. I started to feel uncomfortable. We'd come to discover the thief, not be psychoanalyzed. I translated to Bean. I was beginning to feel like one of those interpreters at the United Nations, only I couldn't translate at the same time as Harry spoke.

“Oh dear” mumbled Bean. “I haven't been very nice to Ellie—but she's so…”

“Yes, I know,” I interrupted her. “She's so annoying.”

“So you get my point,” Harry said.

“What's that got to do with the stolen—oh, are you telling us that Ellie is the culprit?”

Bean grabbed my arm. “Ellie? Really?”

I saw Harry's head nod in the gloom. “I saw Ellie lift Bean's gloves from the bench and Sorrel saw her take Major from Grace's grooming kit. She may or may not have Amber's silver charm. We haven't seen her with it.”

“But why?” I asked. “She's always telling us she's got this and that, that she's getting a super-duper pony and going on and on about how good a rider she is, even though she's not. Why?”

“Maybe she's trying to impress you all. It could be she feels left out and is desperately trying to be included,” suggested Sprout.

“There is another reason,” said Harry.

“Go on,” I said after repeating what Sprout had told me to my impatient accomplice.

“Ellie has been sent here by her father in an effort to help her get over something tragic that has happened in her life,” Harry said solemnly.

I held my breath, remembering Ellie crying in the night. What Harry said next sent a shiver through my heart and a chill down my spine.

“Ellie has recently lost her mother. She died just two months ago.”

I thought of Ellie's terror when we'd wanted to hold a séance—no wonder, given her circumstances. I remembered how she'd reacted at the barbecue when we'd all gone on about our moms. We'd been cruel without even knowing it—whining and complaining about our own moms. I couldn't even imagine how Ellie must be feeling.

I gulped. I so didn't want to tell Bean. The words stuck in my throat. Poor Ellie. I thought of all the times I'd decided she was lying about her prowess as a rider, of all the times she'd got on my nerves, making her try harder to get attention. We hadn't given her a chance. Not really. We hadn't been very nice to her and we hadn't bothered to wonder whether there was a reason why she behaved like she did.

I managed to tell Bean in hushed tones. I felt it ought to be whispered. I heard her catch her breath.

“Our riders sometimes confide in us,” Harry said. “If they haven't a pony of their own, they'll often talk to us.”

“We're happy to help,” said Shadow, kind as ever. “They're our responsibility for a week so we like to do what we can.”

“We take our jobs very seriously, you know, despite our arguments and grumbles,” Sorrel added. “It doesn't just stop at the riding.”

I thought of Drummer at home. I'd lost count of the number of times I'd leaned on his bay neck and told him my troubles. When Mom and Dad had got divorced, when we had moved, when things weren't going right at school—even when my pet guinea-pig had died, Drum had been there. Even way before I could hear him talk back to me he had just chewed on his hay, sympathetic to my woes, always there for me.

Harry spoke again: “So you see, you can't let Ellie know you know about her mother because then she would know I had betrayed her confidence. It is only because of special circumstances that I am telling you this. You need to understand why she stole those things.”

“But what's the connection?” I asked, still unsure.

“I dunno, I'm a pony. I just know that the two are linked in some way. Ask a psychiatrist if you want to know why. I'm just telling you what happened.”

“How can we get this sorted out?” asked Bean. “What do they recommend?”

I asked Harry. “I don't know that either,” he said. “You wanted to know who was stealing, and now you do. Just don't put me in the middle of what you decide to do. Now you'll have to excuse us, we have a very important meeting concerning our work tomorrow.”

“Hold on…” I began.

“What?” asked Harry.

“You all make fun of Dot-2-Dot. Isn't that the same thing?” I asked.

“That's just banter,” said Harry. “We always stick together in the end. Dot's one of us, one of our team. Isn't that right, Dot?”

“Oh yes,” agreed Dot. “Er, what?”

Bean and I crept back to the house in silence, both feeling guilty about the way we'd treated Ellie.

“You just never know about people, do you?” whispered Bean as we inched open the back door and eased into the hallway.

“Shhhh!” I said, terrified of being caught.

“I think you should confront Ellie,” Bean said.

“Why me?”

“Because you can say you know she stole the stuff because the ponies told you.”

“Harry asked us not to tell on him!”

“I know, but couldn't you say you overheard Sprout talking to Cherokee and keep Harry out of it? If you say you
overheard
, rather than
they
told
you
, all the ponies are in the clear.”

“Mmmm,” I mumbled, “I suppose.” I didn't like the sound of it. That was the trouble with the whole pony-whispering thing, it meant I had to do things I didn't especially want to do, simply by default.

I don't know how Bean and I managed to get undressed and in bed without waking anyone else up but we did. I stayed awake for ages, thinking and wondering and dreading confronting Ellie. But I knew I had to do it, and the next day, too. I had to get the silver charm, gloves, and pony back to their rightful owners before the end of the vacation.

I can't wait for the jumping!” exclaimed Grace, absentmindedly flicking the braids on Shadow's withers.

“I bet you never thought you'd say that!” laughed Amber. “You're a completely different Grace to the one who arrived here on Monday.”

“Yes,” said Grace, grinning from ear to ear, “I am, aren't I? And it's all because of Shadow. I wish I didn't have to leave him behind. I wish he could come home with me, I love him so much.” Shadow didn't bother to open his eyes at Grace's declaration. Every spare moment was a dozing opportunity not to be missed.

The final day's gymkhana turned out to be great fun. All the parents turned up to watch, sitting on chairs outside the school. I'd been relieved when I'd seen my mom turn up alone, I'd been terrified she'd bring that Andy guy.

“Oh, I'm not seeing him anymore,” she'd said when I quizzed her. “He's far too intense. I couldn't handle it.”

So much for him being The One, I thought, vowing never to waste time worrying about Mom's boyfriends in the future. She sat between Bean's arty mom, with whom she had traveled down, and Grace's scary mom, who was looking intently for improvement in her daughter's riding. Zoe and Amber's parents were really nice—their mom was mega glamorous with lots of hair—and had given all the ponies sugar lumps as soon as they arrived, which had caused uproar as the ponies got pretty demanding, and Annabelle had gotten very uptight, which was funny.

Bean and I had exchanged glances when Ellie's dad arrived. Ellie had thrown herself at him and they'd hugged for a long time. He was a nice-looking man with glasses and he looked just like anyone's dad, only really, really tired. It had been bad enough when my parents got divorced but at least I still saw my dad. I couldn't imagine how it would be if he'd died and I knew I would never, ever see him again. How could Ellie and her dad cope with missing her mom?

“How are we going to get Grace's mom to buy her Shadow?” Bean asked me as we watched Grace, Amber and Ellie complete their heat of the barrel race.

“Oh, I don't know, I've had enough excitement for one day,” I whispered back. “I'm emotionally drained.”

“Oh puh-leese, you're such a drama-queen!” Bean said, rolling her eyes.

“What?”

“You only had to have a quiet word with Ellie and she's given everything back. What's the big deal?”

The big deal was, well, a
big deal
for me. I hadn't been looking forward to speaking to Ellie but in the end, it hadn't been too bad, I suppose. I'd cornered her in the yard when everyone was braiding their ponies hair and told her I'd overheard the ponies talking and knew she'd taken the silver charm, the gloves, and Major. She'd turned white and then admitted it. Which was a huge relief. I mean, what if she'd denied it? I didn't have a back-up plan. But Ellie had cried a bit once she'd come clean, especially when she realized I wasn't going to tell anyone else, or be horrible to her. So we worked out a way for her to leave the things where they could be found so that she didn't have to confess or explain. I'd made a real effort to be nice to her and she had been so grateful that I was willing to help her. She was a lot easier to like when she wasn't bragging.

And it had worked. Sharon found Major in the feed room, sticking out of the carrot sack. Bean's gloves appeared draped over Cherokee's saddle and Amber discovered her silver charm in the pocket of her favorite pink vest. Which wasn't a good idea—she immediately accused Zoe of having hidden it there. Zoe insisted she hadn't looked properly in the first place and it had been there all the time, and so it went on, and on, and on.

“Bad move!” Bean had said. “Why couldn't Ellie have stuffed it in Amber's suitcase? That way, she'd have found Silver when she got home, and we'd have been spared the bickering!”

The person having the most fun on this last day appeared to be Annabelle. Dressed in a lemon shirt and very expensive designer breeches she brandished her clipboard and blew her whistle, which she used to start the races. And to silence everyone when she wanted to say something. And to get Sharon's attention. And if she saw anyone doing anything she thought we shouldn't be doing—like when Amber, in a moment of insanity, thought it would be a good idea to dismount from Sorrel by easing herself over the cantle of the saddle, sliding back and slipping off her rump, facing her tail.

“What am I now, a circus pony?” Sorrel had said, wide-eyed and indignant.

“My braids are too tight. It's like someone's tweaking three hairs in each one. Ouch! Whoever braided me must have been trained by monkeys,” I heard Cherokee complain.

Sharon, of course, did all the hard work—running around with gymkhana props, heaving jumps back and forth and clearing the school. Annabelle just gave out orders and looked glamorous. Amber and Zoe's dad couldn't stop looking at her—and their mom kept nudging him, laughing and rolling her eyes.

The gymkhana was great fun—even the ponies stopped complaining and joined in enthusiastically and everyone won something. Amber won the musical sacks (like musical chairs but with horses!), Ellie the barrel race and Zoe somehow managed to coax Dot first past the winning post in the walk, trot and canter race. Cherokee stopped whining long enough to carry Bean to victory in the flag race and Sprout was an absolute star in the stepping stone race, enabling me to win the blue ribbon.

All the parents cheered from the sidelines and Mrs. Reeve put on a big spread for everyone (she kept dabbing her eyes with a hanky and saying she always missed her girls when they went home) between the gymkhana and prize giving and the final event—the eagerly awaited show jumping. Zoe carried off the prizes for both the cleanest tack and best-kept stable competitions, and Ellie took the grooming prize—because she'd improved so much over the week, Annabelle said.

You'll never guess who won the jumping. Grace! I know, no one else could believe it either. I thought I was in the running until the very last jump—we met it all wrong and Sprout dropped a hind toe on the pole, bringing it crashing down. But what was more surprising than Grace winning (you should have seen the look on her face as Shadow carefully heaved himself over the last and through the finish) was that the result rendered Grace's mom speechless for at least three seconds.

“She has to buy Shadow now!” enthused Bean.

When the time came for us to say good-bye to our ponies, there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

“I wish you could come home with me,” I whispered to Sprout. “I'm so going to miss you.”

“Only for as long as it takes you to get home and be reunited with that Drummer pony you keep going on about,” Sprout said. “Besides, I'll have another rider next week.”

“Do you mind not having your own person?” I asked him.

“Not really—it's part of the job. It's fun here with the others, we have lots of laughs—but you know that, being a pony whisperer. I'm going to miss Harry, though.”

“Miss Harry? Why? Where's he going?”

“Haz is going to be Ellie's pony. It's all settled with Mrs. Reeve.”

“No!” I said stunned. “Is Harry OK with that?”

“Thrilled. He's looking forward to a new challenge. He never really got over losing his old owner. He'll love being someone's only pony again.”

I imagined Ellie with Harry. He was perfect for her. She didn't need a jumping pony, she needed Harry who would look after her as he had done all week. Nothing could fill the hole left by her mom, but the piebald cob would be someone Ellie could love, and who would love her back, just like—my thoughts flew back to Drummer. Did I still have his love after a week with Catriona? My heart skipped a beat and I hastily turned my attention back to the day's events.

“I can't believe how great this gymkhana has been,” I told Sprout. “Everyone's won something—it's amazing!”

“Yeah, amazing, that's the word!” Sprout murmured. “Every week it's the same and everyone thinks things just work out. Extraordinary!”

“Well, they do! I mean, who would have imagined at the beginning of the week that we'd each go home with a blue ribbon, or that Grace, Grace no less, would win the jumping?”

“Who indeed!” snorted Sprout, looking me in the eye. “What do you think our meeting last night was about?!”