Dream Pony Read online

  First published in 1997 by Usborne Publishing Ltd, Usborne House,

  83-85 Saffron Hill, London EC1N 8RT, England.

  www.usborne.com

  Copyright © 2012, 2009, 2003, 1997 Usborne Publishing Ltd.

  The name Usborne and the devices are the Trade Marks of Usborne Publishing Ltd.

  All rights reserved. This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or used in any way except as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or loaned or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Epub ISBN 9781409555070

  Kindle ISBN 9781409555087

  Batch no. 01487-02

  CONTENTS

  Maps

  1. No riding today

  2. Ponies and Rychester

  3. The unfairness of life

  4. No more Sandy Lane?

  5. Rychester

  6. Dream pony

  7. Dream jumper

  8. Things get better

  9. Jess moves on

  10. Old friends, new friends

  11. The competition looms

  12. Jess has doubts

  13. Revelations

  14. Dilemma

  15. Nightmare!

  16. Showdown

  17. Home at last

  More Sandy Lane Stables books

  Maps to print out

  You can print out copies of the Sandy Lane Stables maps at the Usborne Quicklinks Website. Go to www.usborne-quicklinks.com and enter the keywords 'Sandy Lane Stables'.

  1

  NO RIDING TODAY

  “We could play a game of cards.” Rosie Edwards wrinkled her nose as she looked up from the local newspaper she had been idly skimming through.

  “Boring,” her friend Jess Adams answered. “Oh when will it ever stop raining?” She hunched closer to Rosie and peered through the tack room window. Outside, the rain teemed down relentlessly.

  “Maybe it’ll clear up this afternoon,” said Rosie.

  Jess gazed doubtfully out of the window at the storm clouds gathering in the darkening sky.

  The two friends sat in mournful silence. They had mucked out endless boxes, filled mountains of haynets and groomed the Sandy Lane ponies till they could almost see their faces in their coats. For the moment, there was nothing else they could do.

  Jess sighed. On any other Saturday, they would have been outside in the yard, tacking up the ponies for the 11 o’clock hack, but because of the torrential rain, Nick and Sarah Brooks, the owners of Sandy Lane, had called it off. Last Saturday’s mid-morning hack had been rained off too, and Nick had got flu in the week and had to cancel lessons, so it really wasn’t a good time for Sandy Lane Stables right now.

  “Rain, rain, go away,” Jess sang grumpily. “I’m bored, bored, bored.” She crossed the room and scrabbled around in her bag.

  “I was going to fill this in later,” she said, pulling out a piece of paper. “But I may as well do it now.”

  “What is it?” Rosie looked up.

  “That Browne’s Department Store ‘Win a Dream Pony Competition’. I picked up a form when I was in there last week buying school shoes with my mum.” Jess smiled and held it up for Rosie to look at. “What do you think my chances are of winning?” she laughed.

  “Not much,” Rosie admitted, grinning. “Anyway, you don’t need to win a pony – not when you’ve got all the Sandy Lane ones. I can’t imagine ever wanting to ride any other pony but Pepper.”

  Jess shook her head. “You’re very loyal Rosie,” she said. Pepper was one of Sandy Lane’s oldest ponies, a stubborn little piebald who Rosie adored. “Of course all the Sandy Lane horses are great, but it doesn’t make up for having one of your very own,” Jess sighed.

  “Well, it’s a good enough close second for me,” Rosie answered firmly. “Still, I suppose answering the questions would be something to do, and it’s always good to test your pony knowledge. What do they want to know?”

  Jess laid the piece of paper down on the desk in front of her and, grabbing a pen, began to read the questions. “Name six points of the horse. Hmm – tendons, pastern, fetlocks, um…” She stopped and chewed her pen thoughtfully.

  “Withers, croup, hocks,” Rosie finished quickly.

  “Pretty good,” Jess said. “Hey, listen to this. The runners-up will win a year’s supply of New Improved Mango Miracle Shampoo, and a bottle of Essence of Peach Perfume, courtesy of competition sponsors Vrai Vert Cosmetics, the Caring Cosmetics Company.’ Yuk.” Jess wrinkled up her nose. “Who’d want to win that? And what’s a ‘Caring Cosmetics Company’ anyway?” she asked.

  “Natural ingredients blah blah blah, environmental concerns blah blah blah.” Rosie skimmed the page, reading bits aloud. “No animal testing – that’s good to hear.”

  “It certainly is,” Jess declared. “But Essence of Ponies is the only smell for me. I’m going to live in jodhpurs for the rest of my life and my hair is always going to be messy.”

  Rosie looked at her friend and laughed. Jess grinned back and contemplated Rosie. They couldn’t look more different if they tried. Rosie was always beautifully turned out – the buttons on her jacket were never missing, there were never holes in her socks, her hair was never messy or uncombed.

  Not like me, Jess thought. Strange then, that she and Rosie should be best friends. But there was one thing that bound them. They both loved horses and ponies – all shapes, all sizes. And they especially loved the horses and ponies at Sandy Lane Stables.

  Sandy Lane… Jess sighed heavily as she looked around the cosy tack room with its moth-eaten armchairs, faded but cheerful curtains, and tattered old pony magazines. This was where all the regular Sandy Lane riders congregated – a natural meeting place for Rosie and Jess and their friends Charlie and Tom, Alex and his sister Kate and, more recently, the new girl, Izzy Paterson. Only today it was just Rosie and Jess. The others in their little group were obviously far too sensible to hang around Sandy Lane in weather like this. Indeed, Rosie was only here because Jess had begged her to come.

  “It might clear up. You never know,” Jess had observed, optimistically.

  But of course it hadn’t, and although Jess knew that Nick had been right to cancel the rides this morning, the 11 o’clock hack had been the only thing that had propelled her through a dreary week of school. Still, it wouldn’t have been safe to ride in the howling wind, especially with all the wet mud under foot.

  “Oh no, I knew there had to be a catch,” Jess groaned, coming to the end of the competition form. “The dreaded tiebreaker. Why do they always put them at the bottom? And just when you think you’ve finished. It’s the hardest bit of the lot.”

  “My dream pony would be…” Rosie leaned over Jess’s shoulder and read out the opening words. “Come on Jess,” she said. “You can finish that in less than twenty words.”

  “My dream pony would be…” Jess repeated the words and paused.

  Actually, having her own pony was something Jess didn’t even dare dream about. It wasn’t as if she would ever be able to afford one. Money was tight in Jess’s family. She thought of her dad and his building job. He’d already been ‘rained off’ a lot this winter.

  Just like me today, Jess thought. But no work for
her dad meant no money to spare in the family. The only way Jess was able to ride at all was by helping out at Sandy Lane in return for free lessons. Not that she minded – anything that kept her near the ponies was reward enough in itself.

  “My dream pony would be one I could ride when I was awake, not just in my dreams.” Jess scribbled quickly as she read the sentence aloud.

  “Hey,” Rosie smiled. “That’s not bad, Jess. You should send it off.”

  “I might just do that,” Jess said as she looked out of the window. “And what’s more, Rosie – it’s stopped raining. I think I can see the sun.”

  Jess stuffed the competition form in her pocket and followed Rosie happily out of the tack room, into the brightening stable yard.

  2

  PONIES AND RYCHESTER

  Nick Brooks coughed loudly and rubbed his hands together.

  “Listen up everybody,” he croaked. “My throat’s pretty sore so I’ll keep this short.”

  The following Saturday had dawned bright and clear, but windy too, and the seven riders sat alert and attentive in their saddles. The 11 o’clock hack was ready to go. Rosie was on her beloved Pepper. Alex Hardy was on Hector, a huge horse of 16 hands, and his sister Kate rode the grey Arab, Feather. Charlie Marshall was on Napoleon and Tom Buchanan was riding his own horse, Chancey, a beautiful chestnut gelding. Izzy was on Midnight and today, Jess was riding Minstrel, Sandy Lane’s reliable skewbald pony. The ponies shifted restlessly as an icy wind blew through the yard.

  “It’s been a tough winter, what with this new stables being set up down the road and lessons here having to be cancelled,” Nick continued.

  The riders all shifted uncomfortably in their saddles, understanding what Nick was talking about but not really knowing what to say. The Rychester Riding Stables had been running for about a month now and already a number of Sandy Lane riders had disappeared from the books. Jess didn’t like to see Nick looking so worried, but there wasn’t a lot they could do about it.

  “Anyway, I won’t be able to take you out for a hack now – it’s more important that I crack on with lessons here,” Nick said briskly. “We don’t want any more riders slipping into the Rychester net. However, as a thank you for all the hard work you’ve put in over the last few weeks, I’m happy for you to go out on your own if you want to.”

  “Oh, yes please!” the riders cried in unison.

  “Right, well Tom’s in charge. The ground’s still pretty hard, so take it easy. I don’t want any of you breaking your necks.” Nick turned on his heels and headed off.

  Tom trotted Chancey towards the gate and, one by one, the riders followed him out of the yard. As soon as they turned the corner into Sandy Lane the little group was hit by gusts of wind. The ponies’ ears twitched back and forth and they flicked their tails up and down. Chancey began side-stepping and prancing around but Tom was still able to twist round and bellow above the noise.

  “We’ll take the coastal track up past Bucknell Woods, OK? These ponies have got the wind up, so hold on tight,” he called.

  Swiftly, Tom turned Chancey’s head and urged him into a brisk trot. Jess followed along with the others. The rhythmic rising in the saddle, and the comforting sounds of clopping hooves and snorting ponies, competed with the noise of the wind to warm and lull Jess. She bent down and patted Minstrel’s thick, shaggy neck, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

  “It’s good to be out again, isn’t it old boy? Don’t worry, I know you’re not as fit as you used to be, so we’ll take it slowly. It’s not a day for galloping.”

  Minstrel pricked up his ears and tossed his intelligent head as if he understood, and Jess remembered the times when, feeling low, she had crept into his stable and snuggled her face into his mane and told him her troubles. Somehow, he had always made her feel better.

  Lost in thought, Jess had fallen a little behind the others, and now she saw them picking their way along the cliff path above Sandy Bay. There they waited for her to catch up. Giant waves thundered against the shore and sand swirled in the air as the grass in the dunes was whipped by the ferocious wind.

  “Come on Jess, you slow coach…” The rest of Tom’s sentence was carried off on the wind. Jess shook herself out of her dream and steered Minstrel alongside Rosie and Pepper.

  “Let’s get moving!”

  At Tom’s cry the little group guided their frisky mounts along the bumpy old coastal track.

  Jess pulled in the reins and kept them short. The sound and sight of the sea had lathered the ponies into a frenzy of excitement, and the riders needed to use all their strength and skill to hold them back. As they slipped and slithered up the track’s rocky incline, Jess’s dreamy mood was replaced by a thrill of exhilaration, tinged with fear.

  Once past Larkfield Copse, Tom suggested they stay in single file, well to the left of the path and so keep as much distance as possible between them and the cliff edge. They kept at a walk, all of them aware that to trot under these conditions would be taking too much of a risk. The horses stumbled occasionally on the bumpy frozen path, but they had calmed down a little, allowing the riders to turn their attention to the raging sea below the lighthouse. Jess had picked out a little boat, appearing and disappearing in the swell, when suddenly she felt Minstrel stiffen beneath her as if he sensed something. She looked back and noticed, just beyond Larkfield Copse, several dots haring towards them.

  “Hey, look!” Jess shouted, and the other riders turned their heads and strained their eyes to see the figures. The ponies started to become restless again, but Tom held up his hand to halt the ride.

  It was now obvious that what they were looking at was a group of horses and riders and, as they advanced flat out on the uneven ground, Jess could see that the horses were pure-bred beauties. At the last minute they swerved and sped past the Sandy Lane riders, right at the cliff’s edge.

  “Idiots. Stupid, dangerous idiots!” Tom shouted after the group of riders, holding tight onto Chancey’s reins. The others were trying to calm their own ponies who were now cavorting, electrified, and trying to join in the race.

  “Crazy, crazy. They are CRAZY!” Jess shouted to the others, but secretly she couldn’t help feeling a rush of admiration for the daring of the riders.

  “Don’t let the horses look,” Tom yelled. “Turn them round. Come on, let’s go.”

  And quickly the Sandy Lane ride set off once more, struggling to keep their ponies at a walk. The wind had changed direction now and was blowing hard in their faces. Jess was really starting to feel the cold, and her hands were so numb she could hardly keep a grip on the reins. Carefully they picked their way past the lighthouse towards Sandy Lane Cove.

  “Ugh, I’m absolutely freezing, I can hardly feel my hands,” Jess exclaimed, trotting Minstrel alongside Rosie. “Anyway, what was all that about? Who were those mad riders? Do you think they could be from that stables that has just been set up?”

  “What? Rychester? Well, they looked completely out of control if they are,” Rosie snorted.

  “I suppose so,” Jess agreed slowly. “But those horses were amazing weren’t they? Did you notice the palomino out in front? He was superb.”

  “Hmm, fancy getting to ride a horse like that and being so stupid with it,” Rosie replied grimly. “Uh oh, I think Tom has spotted us riding alongside each other.” She nodded towards the front of the ride where Tom was staring over his shoulder, though in fact, he wasn’t even looking at them, but behind them – back along the coastal track.

  They turned as well and got a sudden fright. The palomino, followed closely by the rest of the wild group, was now just about on their tails. The sound of their approach had obviously been lost in the wind. They were trotting now, but Jess could see that the ponies were lathered with sweat. As they passed, a blonde-haired girl on the palomino shot Jess and Rosie a look which clearly indicated she considered them to be inferior. Then she dug her heels into her horse’s side and galloped away. The rest of the ride followed
at a pace. The Sandy Lane riders sat and watched quietly. Tom was the first to break the silence.

  “Come on you lot,” he said. “Let’s go. I’ve seen all I want to of that crazy bunch.”

  The others followed his lead. But as they wound their way home along the coastal path, Jess couldn’t resist stopping for just a second so she could look back at the tiny dots disappearing into the darkening sky.

  The following Saturday, Jess and Rosie sat in the tack room at Sandy Lane, cleaning saddles and discussing the shows that were coming up. The Ash Hill Show was the next big event on the local horsy calendar.

  “Of course you’ll be riding at Ash Hill, Jess.” Rosie’s voice was reassuring, but Jess wasn’t convinced.

  “Don’t you see Rosie?” she said. “There’s absolutely no one I can enter on. Charlie will be riding Napoleon, and of course Tom will be on Chancey. I suppose Kate will enter a show class with Feather and Alex will probably go for the Working Hunter on Hector. Maybe Nick would let me enter Minstrel, but he hasn’t really got a chance of winning anything…oh, if only Storm Cloud wasn’t lame.”

  “Poor old Jess,” Rosie laughed as she listened to her friend’s unravelling tale of woe. Jess smiled.

  “Sorry, I did go on a bit,” she grinned. “So tell me, what class are you down for, Rosie?”

  “I’m riding Pepper in the Open Jumping,” Rosie replied thoughtfully. “I bet those awful girls from the cliffs have enough ponies to ride,” she added flatly.

  Last Saturday’s encounter with the riders at Sandy Bay had been much talked about in the stable yard. A quick check with some ex-Sandy Lane riders had told them that they had been from Rychester. Everyone had agreed that although they were a reckless bunch, the horses had looked wonderful.

  “Nick isn’t very pleased about Rychester being set up, is he?” Jess observed now, thinking of the beautiful palomino pony they’d seen.

  “No, he’s obviously rather worried about it,” Rosie said. “Although how anyone could possibly want to ride anywhere other than Sandy Lane, I don’t know,” she added, defensively.