Prize Problems (12 page)

I couldn't pedal fast enough to get to the yard—I couldn't wait to see Drummer's bay face, his cute, inward pointing ears, and liquid brown eyes. Sprout was lovely, but Drum's the one-and-only pony for me!

Grabbing his harness, I ran to the field and spotted him under a tree in the far corner, grazing with Bluey.

“Drum!” I yelled, waving the harness to get his attention. “Drummer, I'm back!”

Every equine head jerked upward to see what all the commotion was about. Except for one. Drummer's.

My heart sank and I set off to get him. Had the worst happened? Had Catriona replaced me in my pony's heart?

“Oh, hello,” he said with exaggerated politeness when I got closer. “You managed to find your way back, did you?”

“Oh, Drum, I've missed you so much!” I told him, flinging my arms round his neck and hugging him. He seemed small and chunky and solid after Sprout.

He shook his head and snorted, trying to be angry with me, but after two apples, a carrot, and six sugar lumps, he had almost forgotten he was sulking.

“And I'm so sorry,” I told him, leading him to the gate. “Katy was supposed to look after you, I would never have left you with Catriona, you know that. I was devastated when I discovered she was looking after you. How was it? You can tell me.” I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

“Fantastic!” snorted Drummer. “I was pampered like never before, let me tell you. Look at my hooves”—he pointed a front toe—“oiled every day. See my ears?” A furry, red, black-tipped ear was shoved in my face. “Clean as a new-born foal's. That girl gave me five-star treatment—I won't have a word said against her!”

“Oh!” I said, my mind churning. I couldn't believe this was happening—Drummer singing Cat's praises. What was I going to do? I chewed my lip.

“Yup, standards have definitely improved,” Drummer continued, walking with a spring in his step, tearing my heart to shreds. “The bar has been raised—sky high! I now know how fancy, prize-winning horses feel,” he went on, “and as for the treats—they came thick and fast, morning, noon, and night. That Cat knows what a pony likes. Oh yes, I wouldn't have minded if you'd stayed at that place another week. Are you thinking of going again?”

Stopping to face my pony I put my hands squarely on my hips, tipped my head to one side and sucked in my cheeks.

Drummer stared back at me, a picture of equine innocence. “What?” he asked, drawing himself up and sticking his nose in the air, his ears all a twitch, eyes wide, a perfect picture of equine indignation.

I fixed him with my best “you're so busted, mister” look.

He slumped like a pricked balloon. “I went too far, didn't I?” he sighed. “What did it?”

“The treats,” I told him. “Morning, noon, and night? You had to push it, didn't you?”

“Oh, it was worth a try. You almost fell for it.”

“Dream on!”

“Cat did do a good job, though,” Drummer said, stepping into his stable. “Look.”

I looked. Drum's straw bed looked so luxurious
I
would have slept on it. His manger was spotless, his full feed bag tied neatly. It was a model stable. Annabelle would have scribbled ten-out-of-ten on her clipboard if she'd seen it, that much was certain.

“See?” said Drum smugly, digging in to his hay.

“Didn't you miss me at all?” I dared to ask him, slipping off his harness and bolting his door behind us.

“Miss you?” he asked incredulously between chews. “Miss you?”

I sat down in the corner, content just to watch my gorgeous pony munch. I had to win Drum's heart again, I could see that, but it was great to be back. James would soon arrive, Dee would fill Bean and me in with five days' worth of gossip, and, of course (gulp!), I had to thank Catriona for looking after Drummer. I had a present for her in my bag and was determined to try to strike up a conversation—of sorts. Harry had said that people react depending on how you treat them. Perhaps if I was nice to Cat, we could enjoy some sort of truce. I needed to work at it. I hoped the butterflies in my stomach would subside by the time I saw Cat, but I just knew they were going to get worse. I wished Cat would arrive soon so I could get it over with. Pulling out my cell phone, I texted Katy and asked her whether she wanted me to do anything for Bluey, anything to take my mind off what was to come.

A big, furry, black muzzle appeared in front of my nose, and pony breath wafted over my cheeks.

“Hey,” said Drum softly. “You can do it, you know.”

“Do what?” I asked him, snapping my phone shut.

“What you're worrying about. Just screw up all your courage and get it over with.”

“How do you know these things?” I whispered. Drummer was always one step ahead of me, like he was psychic or something.

Drummer let out a sigh. “I've told you before, it's a pony thing,” he said. “It's what we do.”

“Oh.”

“And,” continued Drum, his muzzle still hovering near my face, “did I mention that I'm, uh, well, sort of glad you're back?”

“No, you didn't!” I laughed, kissing his nose.

“No, well, I'm a pony of few words,” said Drum and went back to his feed bag.

Ok, come clean, what have you all done wrong?” asked James, running his hand through his dark blond hair so that it stood up on end.

“Nothing,” said Katy, “but thanks for the vote of confidence—NOT! Besides, we might ask you the same thing!”

“I feel as though I've done something—even though I know I haven't,” sighed Bean. “Uh, Pia, what's my feed scoop doing on your hay bales?”

“You left it there,” I told her, trying not to look at James. I go a bit funny whenever he does that thing with his hair and I was scared someone else would notice. “You're always leaving stuff on my hay.”

“Am I? I wondered where that had gone,” Bean mumbled, casually lobbing her scoop back toward her corner of the barn—everyone had a sectioned-off part in the building where they kept their own pony's feed and bedding. The scoop disappeared into the black hole of empty feed sacks, baler twine, and buckets that littered Bean's domain. It was easily the untidiest bit of the barn and so very Bean.

“What did Sophie say to you, Pia?” Katy asked, tying her red hair back behind her head with a band.

“She just said to be in the barn at ten o'clock Saturday because she had something important to say,” I told her, remembering that Sophie had winked when she'd told me, which I had found kinda weird.

“Mmmm, that's what she said to me, too,” Katy said, frowning. “What do you think she's up to?”

“She's late, anyway,” remarked James, looking at his watch. “If she's not here in two minutes, I'm gone. Anyone wanna come riding with me? I thought I'd take Moth up to Badger's Copse then back via the sloping field.”

“So you're in on whatever it is too, are you?” asked Katy.

“Of course!”

“I'll come riding with you,” I told James.

“Mmm, me too,” said Katy.

“Count me in,” added Bean. “I couldn't ride last night so Tiffany will be fresh. Plus it's cold today, so she'll be even livelier.”

It was cold, the sort of dry cold that usually follows a heavy frost. The sun was out but it was too early in the morning to compete successfully against the chill. Even in the barn I could see my breath hanging in the air like mini clouds as I spoke—but I love frosty mornings, they're so much better than those dank, dark, dismal, drizzly days which put everyone in a bad mood, especially me. It was early November and the ponies were all clipped and in at night. I thought of Drummer, rugged up and warm in his stable. He was bound to give me a buck or two on our ride before settling down, especially if the other ponies were fresh, too. I'd have to keep my knees in and my heels down if I wanted to keep admiring the scenery, instead of sitting on it!

Suddenly, we heard a car in the drive. Two doors slammed shut.

“At last!” said James as Dee-Dee and her mom, Sophie, appeared at the barn doorway. “Now perhaps we'll find out what the big secret is!”

But Sophie, as usual, was on her cell phone. “Yes, OK,” she said, nodding (don't know why, whoever she was talking to couldn't see her). “I'm just about to ask them now. Yes, that's right. No worries. Absolutely. Sure thing. I'll get back to you directly, Linda, and let you know what we'll be doing. Sure. OK…”

Dee-Dee looked at us all and rolled her eyes. I heard James sigh. Well, it was more of a
huff
, really. And then someone I didn't want to see walked through the barn door.

“Hi, Cat!” said Katy. “Are you in on this big mystery as well?”

“What mystery?” Cat asked, her short, dark hair sticking up in that sassy way it does, giving her the sort of air about her that stops you from messing with her. “Sophie just asked me to be here at ten so here I am.”

My heart sank. Catriona and I do not get along. Actually, that's an understatement; we don't get along in spectacular style. In the past, Cat has plotted against me, plotted against Drummer, and wasted no opportunity to diss me to anyone passing. She used to go out with James (which was the perfect way to get to me—only I'd die if anyone knew that), which means that things are sometimes a bit strained between the two of them now, and she's the only negative at Laurel Farm, where I keep Drum. Oh, and she's adamant that I am not a pony whisperer—even though I can totally hear what horses and ponies are saying (under one important condition) and everyone else is on board with it. I think that's our relationship in a nutshell.

Except that when I went away on a riding holiday with Bean in the spring, leaving my beloved Drummer in the capable hands of Katy, it was Cat—through a cruel twist of fate—that ended up looking after him. And, naturally, I then had to thank her when I returned, especially as she'd looked after him really well. When I'd thanked her and given her the gift I'd intended to give to Katy, Cat had shrugged her shoulders, mumbling an OK at me. It had been awkward. Since then we've gone back to avoiding one another.

Sophie finally snapped her phone shut and looked around at us all. “Thanks so much for coming,” she began, smiling. She was wearing riding clothes and looked very glamorous—something people in the show ring circuit seem to be able to do without effort. “I have a proposition to make to you all.”

“Isn't that something to do with English?” Bean whispered to me, on planet Bean, as per usual.

“That's a preposition,” I whispered back. “I think.”

“My friend Linda is manager at the local branch of the Riding for the Disabled Association. You've probably heard of it,” Sophie began.

We all nodded.

“Well, Linda is putting on an Equestrian Extravaganza in their indoor school at Christmas to raise funds and she's asked me to organize an event to be included…”

“If Sophie thinks I'm baking cakes or selling programs she's crazier than I thought,” James whispered to me under his breath, “and that would be saying something because I already think she's crazier than a box of frogs.”

“Shhh,” I said. I thought Sophie was bonkers, too, but she was bonkers in a totally horsey way so I forgave her.

“…so I thought it would be wonderful for everyone here to take part in a musical activity ride and perform it on the night of the Extravaganza,” Sophie concluded. “It's for a fabulous cause, it will be tremendous fun, and I'm sure you'll all get a lot out of it.”

I haven't told you everything about Dee-Dee's mom, have I? She isn't the sort of person you say no to, even if you wanted to. She has a show horse called Lester and Dee shows her pony, dappled gray Dolly Daydream, at all the top shows. Not just for fun—Sophie is totally serious about it, and poor Dee is always having lessons when she'd rather be out riding with us. Only Dolly's worth a pretty penny so she can't—mainly because we're always flying around the countryside out of control.

As Sophie finished speaking, Dee looked puzzled. “Are you including me?” she asked.

“Yes, of course!” Sophie replied briskly, as though Dee was simple.

“Who am I going to ride?”

“Dolly of course. Who do you think?”

“Really?” Dee's jaw dropped. “How come?”

“All the practices will be on soft ground in the school so there should be no problem with her legs,” her mother replied. “Honestly, Dee, who else would you ride?”

“It sounds like a great idea,” enthused Katy. “But what exactly is an activity ride?”

“It's a musical ride where you'll go over small jumps in different formations. I'll give you all a letter explaining it for you to take home and get your parents to sign. They have to be totally on board with you all doing it and agree to the practices as well as the performance. Obviously you won't need one, Dee,” she added.

“It sounds really cool!” cried Bean, suddenly enthusiastic.

“You mean I can jump Dolly?” Dee asked incredulously.

“Yes, Dee. They're only tiny ones—bunny hops—stop going on about it!” said Sophie impatiently.

“It's a miracle!” breathed Dee, falling backward on a hay bale in a mock faint, completely flabbergasted.

Dee wasn't the only one who was surprised—I couldn't believe Sophie was being so casual about Dolly either. It was unheard of.

“Count me in,” said James. “Just let me know what you want me to do and I'll be there with Moth. The RDA is a fantastic cause and it sounds like a great thing to do.”

“Me, too,” said Bean. “There's no way Tiffany and me are being left out!”

“Wild horses wouldn't prevent Bluey and me from being in it, too!” agreed Katy, bouncing up and down on a feed sack in excitement.

“And me,” I said. It sounded like fun—I'd always wanted to do something like it, and now here was my chance. I felt a tiny flutter of excitement in the pit of my stomach. I pictured Drum and me sailing over jumps in style, bursting through hoops of paper, soaring through jumps of fire. I imagined a packed audience clapping and cheering for us all in admiration. It would be like being on a TV reality show or something. I mean, how fantastic!

“You can definitely include me and Bambi,” said Cat enthusiastically.

The flutter of excitement inside me died, plummeting like it had been shot, and I chewed the inside of my cheek. How was that going to work, me and Cat on a team together? Riding together? Practicing together? Oh for goodness' sake, I thought, we could stay at opposite ends of the ride and make like the other wasn't there. I was sure that would work.

It had to work. I wasn't going to be the only one not included in Sophie's activity ride—it sounded too much like fun!