Blaze and the Dark Rider (8 page)

“Get up!” Annabel shouted to Eddie as she charged forward at a belting canter towards the first pole. She was standing up in her stirrups in two-point position, leaning over Eddie’s neck as she urged the pony on, trying to make up the last two lengths distance that now separated her from Morgan, who was racing against her.

“Go, Annabel! Go, Eddie!” Issie, Kate and Stella yelled at the top of their lungs, urging her on.

As Annabel took the last pole, she turned Eddie hard. The stocky palomino gelding responded brilliantly, pivoting hard on his hindquarters to twist around and come back again.

But as he turned there was a sickening lurch. Eddie snorted with surprise and leapt suddenly to one side and Annabel, who had been low over his neck, twisted around and fell underneath him, narrowly avoiding his hooves. She hit the ground hard and lay very still, and the next thing Issie saw was Avery and Mr Willets running. Mr Willets had a terrified expression on his face.

“I’ll get the first-aid kit,” Mrs Brown shouted after them, and she turned and ran into the clubhouse.

Avery made a grab for Eddie’s reins. The gelding was panicked but seemed fine. Annabel, meanwhile, had regained consciousness, but was crying in pain.

“I think she’s got a broken leg,” Mr Willets called out to Tom. “She can’t move it.”

“What happened?” Stella was watching open-mouthed. “She just seemed to go flying when they took the last pole.”

“I think this answers the question,” Avery said to the girls as he led Eddie back over towards them. In his left hand he held up a stirrup leather.

Issie looked at it and realised that the leathers had broken clean in two. “It must have been loose stitching.”

Avery shook his head as he examined the leathers. “But these leathers are brand new! And they’re good ones, too. It looks like the leather was cut. I don’t understand it!”

Issie looked at Stella and Kate. “I think I understand it,” she muttered to them. “The tack room. Last night, remember? Annabel’s gear has been sabotaged! Maybe the intruder wasn’t trying to get to Blaze after all…”

That Wednesday night, in the Riders Lounge at the Chevalier Point Pony Club, a secret meeting took place. The big, tattered armchairs were arranged in a tight circle around the coffee table, and in the chairs sat Kate, Stella, Isadora and Ben. The sound of the front door opening suddenly made all four of them jump in their seats, and then collectively breathe a sigh of relief as Dan walked in through the clubroom door.

“Good! We’re all here, then, we can get started at last,” Stella said. She popped up from her chair as Dan sat down in his and paced the floor around the wooden coffee table, looking serious.

“Get started on what, Stella?” Dan smiled. “What
on earth is all this about? Mum had to drop me off here and I had to tell her it was a team tactics meeting for the Interclub Shield. Now, what’s going on?”

Stella scanned the room as if she was checking to make sure no one else was here to snoop on their conversation, then she paused again, clearly enjoying the dramatic moment, before she finally spoke: “We’re here to solve the mystery, of course. We’re here to figure out who sabotaged Annabel’s stirrup leather.” She paused again then added, “The five of us must solve the crime or who knows who might be next!”

There was a muffled laugh from Ben, who had to stick his hand over his face at this point, and then Kate, who was trying to suppress a case of the giggles, completely lost it and doubled over with laughter.

“Kate, this is serious!” Stella looked darkly at her.

“Oh, for goodness sake, Stella. We’re not the Famous Five!” Kate blurted out before succumbing with the others, who were rolling about in fits of giggles.

“Ohh! It’s like
Scooby Doo!”
Ben wheezed, his hand on his chest as he tried to pull himself together and breathe between giggle attacks.

Stella glared at them, her hands on her hips.
“Come on! Issie, you tell them. You heard what Avery said—that stirrup leather was no accident. And you said yourself that you thought other riders could be in danger. I don’t think there’s anything funny about us trying to find out who did it.”

“No, Stella is right,” Issie agreed. “This is real. Someone cut that stirrup leather. Annabel said afterwards that she had just bought new ones last month, so there is no way that the leather snapped by itself.”

“Has anyone seen Annabel? Is she OK?” Ben asked.

“The three of us went to visit her in hospital yesterday,” Issie said. “They’ve put her leg in a big long cast that goes all the way to her hip. The doctor said she won’t be able to ride again for at least six weeks.”

“Poor Annabel,” Kate sighed. “And Eddie was going so beautifully lately. His dressage was really coming along…”

“I think we’re getting a little off the point here,” Stella snapped. She was still pacing around the coffee table, her hands clasped behind her back as if she were Sherlock Holmes addressing the crowd as he summed up a case.

She stopped now in front of them, raising one finger
aloft as if she were making a very crucial point. “Who would have a reason to want to hurt Annabel?” Stella asked.

“Oh, Stella, this really is too silly.” Kate was grouchy now. “No one had any reason to hurt Annabel. It was just an accident, obviously.”

“Or maybe,” Stella continued, “maybe they just got the wrong girl!” Stella turned to Issie. “Isadora, you said you saw Francoise coming out of the tack room in the middle of the night. Couldn’t she have done this? I mean, couldn’t she be the one who cut Annabel’s stirrup leather? She must have mistaken Annabel’s saddle for yours and sabotaged her leathers instead!”

“What? What are you talking about?” Dan broke in. “Who is this Francoise and why would she be in the tack room in the middle of the night? Issie? What is this all about?”

And so Issie and Stella and Kate all started talking at once over the top of each other. They told Dan and Ben all about El Caballo Danza Magnifico and the horses that looked just like Blaze, and how Francoise had come to visit that day.

When they had finished their story, Dan and Ben both sat gobsmacked in their armchairs. “Well, Issie,” Dan shook his head in disbelief, “you are most definitely the most interesting girl I have ever met!”

Issie blushed at this, and then Dan, realising what he had said, blushed too and added hurriedly, “I mean, I think Stella is right, maybe this Francoise does have something to do with Annabel’s accident. I think we should investigate further.”

“Ohhh, you should come with us!” Stella suggested. “To El Caballo Danza, I mean. Kate and Issie and I are going to go along on Sunday. Francoise said she would give us free tickets to the show, and we’re going to go backstage afterwards and meet all the horses. I’m sure she won’t mind if you and Ben come too.”

Everyone agreed that Ben and Dan should come with them that weekend to the show.

“Meanwhile,” Stella instructed, “I think all of us should keep our eyes open during the next practice session on Saturday, just in case any other gear gets tampered with.”

The five of them took a vote that night on whether to tell the other riders about this. “After all, Natasha
and Morgan are in the team too,” Ben and Dan had argued. It was harder for them to keep it a secret, Issie realised, because Dan and Ben both went to Kingswood, the same school as Natasha and Morgan.

“No,” Issie had said, “we don’t know that it was Francoise who did this. And if there is someone else out there who is sabotaging the Interclub team, then the less people that know about it the better. We need to keep this to ourselves until we have more proof.”

Besides
, she thought to herself,
Natasha would only laugh at them if they tried to warn her
.

“Well, if we don’t tell them that they’re in danger then I think we should at least try to keep an eye on them too, and check that their gear is safe,” Stella suggested. The five of them agreed that this was a good idea. Issie would somehow get close enough to Natasha to check on Goldrush, while Stella would keep an eye on Morgan.

When they all left the clubroom that night, they carefully checked the tack room downstairs—Ben tried to make ghost noises in the dark to scare the girls. Then they made double-sure that the door really was locked before they went home.

The next Saturday morning, when they were saddling up at the club, all the riders made sure to check their stirrup leathers and girths extra carefully just in case. Stella took her sleuthing duties very seriously and when Morgan and Araminta arrived at the club with Jack in the horse truck, she shot off instantly in their direction.

Kate shook her head as she watched Stella racing off towards the truck. “What’s she going to say to them?” Kate wondered. “How do you casually ask someone if you can check their horse to see if they’ve been sabotaged?”

A few minutes later Stella was running back across towards them with a huge smile on her face. “Did it!” she beamed proudly. “I told Morgan that Avery was getting me to do a routine gear check on all the riders after the accident. Well, Morgan looked a bit spooked at first but she let me check over her saddle and bridle, and I got Araminta’s autograph at the same time,” she said, pulling a piece of paper out of her jodhpur pocket.

“It’s not for me, it’s for my little sister,” she added hastily.

“Well, then, I guess it’s your turn, Issie,” Kate said. “What excuse could you possibly have that Natasha will believe?”

Issie looked over at the silver Mercedes SUV and silver horse float where Goldrush was tied up. Natasha appeared to be lying down on the back seat of the car looking bored, while her mother tacked up her pony for her.

“I’ll think of something,” Issie said hopefully as she set off reluctantly in their direction.

Luckily, it looked like she wouldn’t even need an excuse. She watched as Mrs Tucker and Natasha walked away from the float and headed off for the clubroom. Now was her chance!

When Issie reached the horse float, she slipped between Goldrush and the float where she couldn’t been seen. Then she examined the saddle, checking on the stirrup leathers, which showed no signs of being tampered with. She checked the girth too, flipping back the top flap of the saddle to examine the straps. They seemed fine.

Issie slipped under Goldrush’s neck and back through to the other side to do the check on that side of the saddle too. Unfortunately, just as she bobbed up from under Goldrush’s neck she saw Natasha walking back towards her from the clubroom with her mum.

Frozen with panic, Issie considered running away. But it was too late. Natasha had definitely seen her. No, she had to come up with something else. She gave a smile and a wave and Natasha, after checking over her shoulders to see who Issie could possibly be waving at, gave her a reluctant wave in return.

“Hi, Natasha, hi, Mrs Tucker!” Issie smiled. Her brain was racing now. What on earth was her excuse?

“Oh, it’s Isabella, isn’t it?” Natasha said frostily. She had met Issie a million times but seemed to delight in never knowing who she was.

“Isadora,” Issie said, trying desperately to keep the smile plastered on her face.

“How is that scruffy old charity pony that you got given?” Natasha smirked at her.

“Blaze is great, thanks,” Issie said. “Umm, in fact that’s why I came over here. A whole bunch of us are going along to El Caballo Danza Magnifico—you
know, the show with the dancing horses? Well, the mares look just like Blaze and I know the woman who runs it and we’ve got free tickets for tomorrow to see the show…” Issie gulped, she had no choice, it was her only solution “…and I was wondering if you’d like to come with us.”

Please say no. Please say no
, Issie wished as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

Natasha gave a sneer of disinterest and Issie’s heart soared. Then she sighed with boredom and finally spoke, “OK, why not?” She turned to her mother. “I can go, can’t I, Mum?”

Mrs Tucker nodded. “Yes, of course. Thanks very much, Isadora, Natasha would love to come with you. Is your mum taking you? I’ll drop her off at your house tomorrow. What time is it?”

“Umm, we’re leaving at midday,” Issie said.

Mrs Tucker smiled. “Lovely, see you then.” And she walked off, leaving Natasha and Issie still standing there.

“I can’t wait to see the show,” Natasha said to Issie. And then she added, “because I bet those dancing mares don’t look anything like your scruffy mutt of a pony. There’s no way she’s a purebred Anglo-Arab.
A horse like that costs a fortune, just like Goldrush here. She has impeccable English riding-pony bloodlines. I won’t even tell you how much she cost, but it was more than Mum’s Mercedes.”

Natasha eyed Issie up and down. “Your charity pony isn’t a purebred. You don’t get given horses like that, Isadora. And,” she added, “in your case you most certainly could never afford one.”