Ponies at Owls' Wood Read online

  The farmhouse had a gloomy and uncared for feeling about it, although Hannah knew that two women lived there because occasionally she’d caught glimpses of them. One looked to be about the same age as her mother, and the other was old and extremely fat. Although Hannah would have loved to live in a house with its own land, she never envied High Farm, as it was called. No good having all the paddocks in the world if the house was so creepy.

  When she cycled back up to Polly’s field, Tom was still there. He appeared to have taken his bike to pieces and was staring at one of the wheels with a spanner in his hand.

  ‘Want some help?’ Hannah asked. She’d mended loads of punctures and felt herself to be something of an expert.

  ‘Just hold this will you? I need the frame to keep still so I can get the wheels back on. Are you going riding?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Hannah. She held the frame and was relieved that she was strong enough to keep it still while Tom turned the bolts to secure the wheels and piece his bike back together. ‘I’m going down the lane and up the Chase.’

  ‘Be careful then,’ said Tom. ‘I heard a thing on the news about some horses up there. D’you want me to come with you? I could ride my bike.’

  ‘Not really,’ said Hannah, ‘you’d never keep up. And I don’t want to walk Polly the whole way.’

  Tom shot her an irritated look.

  ‘Oh all right then, but try not to be a pain.’

  Hannah brushed Polly and saddled up. As they set off down the lane she realised that Polly was pleased to have Tom riding along beside her. Her pony slowed if he slowed, and vice versa, which meant that they went downhill rather faster than usual, and then when they turned on to the track she was amazed to find that Tom could ride the bumpy grass as fast as the overweight Polly could canter. Polly seemed to be taking care not to swerve out and knock him flying. It was a success.

  It was a lovely day for riding but Hannah’s stomach felt tense, and the nearer they got to High Farm the more she worried about what Liam had told her. What were they going to find?

  ‘I can’t bear it if someone’s being cruel to horses,’ she told Polly quietly while Tom bunny jumped patches of rubble on the track. She stroked her pony’s neck as they rode. ‘If there are horses in trouble we’ll have to help them.’

  They slowed as the farm buildings came in sight. Tom hadn’t been up this way before.

  ‘We’ll have to watch out for the dogs,’ Hannah said. ‘Polly and I usually turn round and go back if they’re loose. Can you see anything?’

  ‘What! Are you wanting to turn back already?’

  ‘No,’ said Hannah. ‘I’m just saying.’ She pointed to a narrow pathway off to their left. ‘That’s the way down into Owls’ Wood.’

  ‘My dad used to work with a bloke that kept Owls’, said Tom. ‘He was really interested in them, and hawks and falcons. Used to take them to shows at the weekends.’

  ‘Tom, do you think you could just concentrate? Can you see anything?’

  They were within 20 metres of the farm when Hannah reined in sharply and Polly began to back up. A scruffy white van was parked in the middle of the track and two dogs were staring out from the back of it. They started to bark loudly. To add to Polly’s anxiety there was a pile of old plaster stacked up on the grass verge, with bits of dusty paper flapping in the breeze. Over the top of it, Hannah could see the farmyard, and she caught a glimpse of a bright white caravan parked at the far end. It appeared to be smart and new, and had a flag on its roof. Guaranteed to make any pony spook. But it didn’t look as if they’d be able to get past the van. Hannah looked at Tom, who seemed unconcerned.

  ‘Maybe we should turn back,’ she said.

  ‘Scared eh? You wait here,’ said Tom, and he got off his bike and left it lying on the ground. He walked ahead towards the van and as Hannah watched him, her eyes also seemed to catch a movement in one of the upstairs windows of the house. But when she looked there was nobody there.

  ‘Clear off!’ A man’s voice was shouting at Tom, ‘or I’ll set the dogs on you. If you’re another one coming about horses, there aren’t any except one that belongs to me. So bugger off and mind your own business, this is private land!’

  ‘It’s not private land,’ Hannah said to Tom as he came back to his bike. ‘It’s a bridle path. Are you all right? You look a bit funny.’

  ‘Come on,’ said Tom, ‘let’s go.’

  They’d only been back on the lane for five minutes when a blue car Hannah recognised came past them, narrowly missing Polly and Hannah, and forcing Tom onto the opposite verge. A wave from the female driver was small consolation to Hannah as Polly danced about and snorted.

  ‘I’ve seen that car before,’ she said, remembering the shop and the mottled legs.

  ‘Lunatic,’ muttered Tom.

  Hannah was tired when she eventually got home. She rang Charley in the hopes of a chat.

  ‘It’s me,’ she said, ‘just about alive.’

  ‘Hey Hannah, I was going to ring you. How’s Polly? Did you get the notice up today?’

  ‘Yea, I did.’ Hannah told Charley about her day and the notice, and Tom, the man, the dogs and the woman in the car. But mostly she talked to her about what Liam had said.

  ‘I can’t get my mind off those horses,’ she confessed. ‘I bet there’s something in it. What do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Charley, ‘but I definitely wouldn’t go up there without loads more help. Two of you are no good. It’s funny that we don’t know the people at that farmhouse, though we’ve sometimes seen horses in the fields. All I can remember is us turning round and running for it whenever we saw the dogs. But if they’d got dodgy horses up there you’d think the police would have found them. It could all be nothing. Or then again, maybe you should go down to the police station yourself.’

  ‘And tell them what?’ asked Hannah. ‘I can’t just say that I feel that something’s wrong – they’ll want to know why. I really want to do something though. How’s it going in Derbyshire?’

  ‘Well,’ said Charley, ‘it’s good. I’ve met a girl called Ella who’s got a gorgeous grey Arab.’

  Charley talked about Ella and her horse, and how cool they both were, and how scary the sheep were for Delia and how great that was, until Hannah felt her spirits drop even lower.

  ‘It all sounds amazing,’ she said, knowing that her voice was coming out flat. She wished she had someone to ride with again.

  After the phone call, Hannah went and sat in her room and tried to read her Pony magazine, but soon gave up. She thought about her mother and wished she had her to talk to – not on the phone from miles away, but downstairs in the kitchen. How could she go off for so long? And all just to sing? It didn’t make sense.

  After a while she snuggled down in bed and allowed her favourite daydream to take over. It started with her finding an ideal field companion for Polly and ended with Pippa Funnell asking her to train for the British equestrian team. Most of her daydreams ended in a similar place, although, unusually, this time she noticed that Tom’s face was in the admiring crowd as she completed yet another clear round at the Olympics. As she drifted off to sleep, Hannah remembered that Tom had actually been quite kind to her today, and even a little bit helpful. She began to wonder whether there was more to him than she’d thought.

  3

  Jack

  Breakfast was always fraught and today was no exception. Hannah was in the kitchen trying to find a clean t-shirt in a basket of ironing that nobody had ironed. Most of the white clothes were now a uniform grey, after someone had left a black sock in the machine and washed everything on hot. To top it all off, there was a smell of burning toast.

  ‘Has anyone seen my car keys?’ Her father asked this every morning. ‘I put them here on the table.’He rushed about, leaving a trail of crumbs and marmalade. ‘And my mobile? That was here last night when I went to bed. Who’s had it? Come on, confess!’ He left muddle behind him wherever he went in
the house. Today it was smears of butter and brown shoe polish on the kitchen tops. He kissed Hannah absent-mindedly at the door.

  ‘See you tonight Poppet,’ he said, ‘look after yourself.’

  From time to time Hannah wondered if it was actually legal to go off for weeks and leave your children defenceless and without enough food. She felt she could understand how social services might get phone calls from people like her, especially in her darkest hours when her brother had eaten everything in the house. She’d said as much to Sarah, a friend of hers at school.

  ‘What, ring social services and risk losing all your lovely freedom? You’re mad.’ Sarah had declared. ‘What I’d give for a bit of neglect! My parents are interested in everything I do and it’s awful. They keep wanting me to talk to them, and they ask me where I’m going all the time. It’s far worse than not having any food.’

  It was still early when Hannah arrived at Polly’s field on her bike. There was no sign of Tom, and she was glad to have a bit of time on her own with her pony. She wanted to groom her and wash her tail before they went for a ride, but as she leaned over the gate to see where Polly was, she got a shock. She couldn’t believe her eyes. A skewbald pony was standing in Polly’s field over against the far fence. A very scruffy coloured cob, with a tangled mane and tail, and shaggy legs caked in mud. Her own pony was a distance away, looking surprised.

  Polly whinnied at Hannah, as if to say, ‘Look what’s happened!’

  Hannah stood and stared. What was going on? Had someone just put a pony into Polly’s field without even bothering to ask? What a nerve! She climbed the gate and walked slowly across the grass towards him, noticing as she did so that he was very thin for all his shaggy coat and mud. Who on earth could have put him here? The horse had his head up and looked ready to bolt.

  I must move quietly, she said to herself, and not look him directly in the eye. She spoke softly to the pony: ‘Who are you?’ Hannah decided to turn back so as not to frighten him, and walked up to Polly instead. ‘What’s been going on Polly?’ she asked her pony. ‘Who is this muddy skewbald and who brought him here? And what am I supposed to do with him?’ This was not the kind of field companion she’d imagined.

  Hannah went over to the gateway to see whether there were any clues. The grass had been flattened somewhat but nothing looked out of the ordinary. It had been pretty dry lately so there weren’t any marks from either wheels or hooves. It was a mystery.

  She looked again at the new arrival. He was watching her, and as he turned his head Hannah could see a red weal around his neck, as if he’d been tied with a rope. Her heart melted. She tried to approach him, walking even more slowly. He let her get a bit closer this time before moving away.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,’ she told him, ‘when you feel braver about me I’ll see what I can do for your sore neck. You’ve got a lovely head – very handsome. I could call you Jack – you look like a Jack.’ She left him to watch her while she caught Polly and tied her up by the shed.

  ‘I didn’t think ponies could read,’ she said to Polly, ‘but that poor boy seems to have come of his own accord. There’s no message anywhere. I wish you could tell me what went on in the night.’

  With Jack to talk to and Polly to ride, the morning passed quickly. Hannah took some time to get to know Jack. She wanted him to begin to trust her. She began by sitting quietly near to where he was grazing, but taking no notice of him at all. Then she got up and wandered around the field, feigning interest in various bits of grass. She knew he was watching her. Eventually, curiosity overcame him and he moved closer to where she was standing. Hannah held out an open hand and he stretched his neck out to sniff it. He didn’t feel the need to run off, as Hannah spoke gently to him but didn’t try to touch him. Instead, she turned away and went to make a fuss of Polly. She wondered whether Polly was feeling anxious, but she seemed fine. The contrast between her plump glossy condition and Jack’s matted coat was startling.

  ‘We’ll make friends with him, you’ll see,’ she told her pony. ‘I reckon it won’t be long before he’ll let me bathe his neck.’

  Hannah was about to set off home when a voice called her from the gate. Tom was staring at the new arrival with disapproval.

  ‘What’s that scruffy object in your field? Have you found someone to share already?’

  ‘He just appeared, actually. I don’t know where from.’

  ‘Call the police,’ said Tom at once. ‘You can’t have animals just turning up all over the place.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Hannah, ‘I’m going to find out why he’s here. Something’s definitely going on. Can I have one of your crisps?’

  Tom was munching crisps and Hannah was starving. He gave her the rest of the bag along with an old and very dusty half a Twix bar without much wrapper.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, eating it all quickly. ‘I’m going to go to the Steeple Chase again tomorrow,’ she told him, ‘but this time I’ll go round by the wood and try and look from the back of High Farm without that man noticing me. I’ll go on my bike.’

  ‘I don’t think you should,’ said Tom at once. ‘He was horrible.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ said Hannah, ‘I’m positive he’s hiding something. And someone’s put that pony in here to keep him safe, I’m sure of it. So I’m going again. Then if I get something more to go on I’ll do what you say and ring the police.’

  ‘If you must, I’ll come with you,’ said Tom, ‘but you’ll have to leave it till Thursday. My mum’s sister is ill and we’re going to see her tomorrow. I can’t come until the next day.’

  ‘Well,’ Hannah was doubtful, ‘I don’t want to wait too long. I’ll see in the morning. But thanks for the offer.’

  ‘I definitely think you should wait for me,’ said Tom again.

  ‘Don’t fuss,’ said Hannah as she got her bike to leave.

  ‘And make sure you tell your dad about that creature,’ said Tom. ‘And think about ringing the police.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she called back as she cycled away.

  Later that day her father came home in a good mood, but Hannah had no intention of telling him about Jack, or her plan to try and find out more about the horses at High Farm. She didn’t want him getting worried and telling her not to go to the Chase. He’d probably just ring up the police anyway, and she wasn’t ready for that. The arrival of Jack had made things much more complicated.

  ‘Hey!’ she said as he came into the kitchen, ‘you’ve been shopping!’ The kitchen floor was strewn with empty carrier bags and the worktops were covered with jars, tins and boxes.

  ‘Wicked!’ She gave her dad a kiss and for a few minutes forgot all her anxieties. Food! She took three packets of Hula Hoops up to her room, and hoped someone would do some cooking soon.

  4

  Jess

  On that same day, Jessica Collier had woken up feeling scared. She had never directly crossed her aunt’s boyfriend Pete before, and her former certainty that he wouldn’t notice a missing pony out of so many seemed like wild optimism in the bright light of day. The sparrows were singing cheerily outside her window as if her worry was no concern of theirs. Even the photo of her mum and Auntie Cyn laughing on the beach in Norfolk, taken two years before her mother had had her accident, failed to cheer her as it usually did.

  Jess knew she’d acted impulsively. She’d seen Hannah’s notice the evening before when her aunt had persuaded her, with some difficulty, to bike down to West Brook village and see whether or not Pete’s van was parked in the pub car park. It hadn’t been, but on the way back she’d had to get off her bike and push, and the red paint on the field notice had caught her attention.

  Had what she’d done been such a good idea?

  Fearing that if she didn’t get up as early as usual Pete might notice and come and call her, Jess decided to dress and go downstairs. The best thing might be to say she was going round to her gran’s caravan for breakfast and then stay out of the wa
y until he’d been down to give hay to the ponies. Then she would know the worst. She was surprised, however, to find him sitting at the kitchen table looking as if he’d had good news. Someone must have given him some money, she thought. It appeared that he’d already taken the hay, and he certainly didn’t look like a man who’d lost a coloured cob. She began to relax a little.

  ‘Morning Jess,’ he said as he saw her. ‘The kettle’s boiled if you want some tea. Cyn’s gone back to bed with a headache. She says would you look in on her before you go off doing whatever you do when you should be at school.’

  ‘It’s the holidays Pete,’ said Jess, knowing that he knew this quite well.

  ‘Well, holidays are too long.’ He stared at her. ‘And I’ve told you a thousand times to call me Uncle Pete. I’ll be working on the van today and I don’t want you bothering those ponies. Fill up their water if you must but if I catch you talking to any nosy parkers that think to come round here, you’ll have me to answer to. And don’t forget I want you to do the chickens.’ He paused at the door as he left and said, ‘Say hello to your gran for me.’

  Jess never knew whether Pete intended to sound sarcastic when he said things like this, or whether he really meant that she should pass his greetings on to her gran. He was a man whose temper changed from one moment to the next. It made her permanently uneasy. She refused to call him her uncle, because he wasn’t. And he never would be, no matter how long he stayed in their lives.

  After Jess’s mother Marilyn had died, Jess and her father had come to live with her grandmother, Grace, and Auntie Cyn at High Farm. At that time, Cyn had been out at work in a good job and was frequently away on business. Jess’s father had wanted the support his wife’s relations could offer Jess, but soon found himself bored and lonely living so far out in the country, with a distance to travel daily to work. Before long he’d met someone else and gone to live in Birmingham, pressing Jess, unsuccessfully, to join him there. He’d been disappointed when she hadn’t wanted to leave her gran.