All that Glitters, page 5
‘Ours and Miss Brocklebank’s were just the farm that belonged to the house. They up there were the toffs, and us down here the workers. All changed now, of course. The old lady up there is the last of a line. When she goes it’ll be bought by a city banker with his bonus, or a footballer.’
Millie related what her father had said as they rode up through the woods towards the old mansion.
Imogen said,‘How about Snouty, with her divorce settlement? It would suit her far better and Miss Brocklebank could grow her leeks up there–’
‘And when she’s gone Jake could dig up her garden and find his treasure. That would be great.’
‘Except it won’t happen, of course.’
‘Pity.’
But the idea stayed in their minds: the thought of their own stable yard back and Miss Brocklebank spirited away.
‘When Snouty’s horses come, we’ll have to hack up here with her so that she sees how much happier she would be with a place like Standing Hall.’
‘Yes, she fancies herself Lady of the manor. She could make an offer, even if it’s not for sale.’
It was lovely riding the two ponies together through the woods. In the past Millie had had to run behind, save when Imogen had sparingly given her a turn in the saddle, and she had only ridden Barney up here alone when Imogen had been away on holiday. But with the two together it opened up a whole new experience.
‘We can go miles at the weekends, take a picnic,’ said Imogen.
‘But we need another saddle and bridle first. I bet my parents won’t shell out.’
‘I’ll tell mine my saddle’s worn out. It is, fairly. And they’ll buy me a new one and you can have mine.’
Now Bluebell had proved himself so amenable, Millie ’s worries returned about paying the livery bill. No one had asked her for any money so far. She doubted if this happy state of affairs would last long. Perhaps her father would pay, if she caught him in a good mood. If Snouty wanted to get rid of them, she would put up the rates and then he certainly wouldn’t pay.
But it was stupid to worry when she was so happy with her ride. The woods were in the glorious mantle of early summer, full of birdsong, even out of earshot of the beastly road. The two ponies went amicably, winding their way along a peaty path that led round the back of the hall. Bluebell was too good to be true, walking up eagerly, moving smoothly into a trot when Imogen kicked Barney on ahead of him. No bucks or napping, no headsnatching, no spooking. Then Millie started to worry that he was such a good pony someone must be looking for him. Not that Snouty thought so – how rude she was! Why did she worry so? Imogen never worried about a thing. Even now she was riding boldly round the back wall of the stable yard, only a hundred yards from the house itself.
‘I’ve never been up here before. It’s great, isn’t it?’
She pulled up and looked down towards the river. Now clear of the trees, there was a fine view of the river below, winding towards the village and the bridge under the busy road. The traffic whizzed along in both directions looking like toy vehicles but they were too far away to hear it. The house stood serenely facing the view, its access driveway curving away on the side furthest from them to enter the village on the far side.
‘It’s beautiful.’
Millie sat looking, thinking how marvellous it was to have a pony to ride with Imogen, just what she had always dreamed of.
If only Snouty hadn’t arrived on the scene!
Chapter 5
‘I don’t know why you don’t tell Mum and Dad about this,’ Millie said to Jake. She was in his bedroom examining the bits of loot that he had dug up from the stable floor. The latest bit, a short, flat bar with engraved leaves and flowers and red stones in the middle of the flowers, was bent and broken but obviously very old. She was as convinced as Jake now that he really had found treasure.
‘It’s mine,’ he said fiercely. ‘If I tell them – just think … Dad will scoff, Mum will believe it and persuade him, they’ll go to Miss Brocklebank to see about digging there and she’ll go bananas, everyone will hear about it and, who knows, some crook will come in the night and take the lot. I want to dig it up myself. It’s mine.’
Millie could see his point. She guessed that all the treasure in the world would mean nothing to Miss Brocklebank compared to her leek bed. Money meant nothing to her.
‘One day she’s bound to go away somewhere, give me a chance.’ ‘She never does,’ Millie pointed out.
‘No. Well, I don’t mind waiting. She’s terribly old. She’ll fall
down the stairs or something sooner or later. Die.’
‘Don’t be so horrible. More likely the house will fall in on her.’ ‘I’ll wait. Your Miss Power might well get rid of her, if I’m
lucky.’
‘Blimey, we mustn’t let her find out!’ ‘No way.’
‘She’s bringing her horses tomorrow. The first two, hers and
the computer nerd’s. I think she’ll start making me pay rent for Bluebell and Dad’ll go bonkers.’ ‘She can’t charge you much, surely? Especially now they’re out at grass.’
‘I’m keeping my fingers crossed. Imogen says I’ve got to suck up to her, make her my friend.’
‘Can’t think she’s got many. You could be a first.’
All the same, both Millie and Imogen were quite excited about the arrival of the new horses. They raced home from school to find an enormous shining horsebox parked in the yard and Snouty just climbing out of the driving seat.
‘Oh, good,’ she said, ‘you can help me.’
She looked straight out of an advertisement in her country clothes, the sort London people wore to go to point-to-points and game fairs, not the sort working country people wore on their farms. The highlights in her blonde, artfully tousled hair twinkled in the late afternoon sunshine. She smiled a pearly white smile. Amazing!
Millie and Imogen gawped.
‘I’ve got two of them in here, mine and Joe’s. We’ll take mine first. She’s the boss.’
They could hear loud kicking from inside the lorry, presumably from the boss. Just like her owner, the girls decided. But Millie, remembering she had to make herself indispensable, ran forward to help let down the ramp. Snouty ran up and presently came down again leading ‘the boss’, a tall, liver-chestnut mare. She was undeniably beautiful. She stood looking about her, ears pricked, large intelligent eyes taking in the strange place. There was no white on her and her coat was dark, almost dark brown, but with the reddish cast that made her a chestnut, with her mane and tail the same colour.
‘Wow,’ said Imogen.
‘She’s beautiful, isn’t she?’ Snouty said, suddenly quite human and mumsy. Millie could see now why she was so derisive about poor Bluebell.‘She’s gorgeous. What’s her name?’
‘Red Sky. But we call her Snappy.’
Millie, who had been thinking about offering to do early morning feeds, was not encouraged by this stable name.
‘Is she? Snappy?’
‘Yes. I’m afraid her stable manners are atrocious. But once on her back, then she’s an angel.’
As Millie knew she was unlikely to discover the ‘angel’ attributes, she was not comforted.
‘You can hold her while I get Joe’s. Keep your hand up close, under her chin, and jerk it back if she tries to bite you. Stand away from her.’
Dear Bluebell, Millie breathed, gingerly taking the lead-rein. The mare immediately snapped out at her and she jumped back with a squeak but didn’t let go, too frightened of Snouty to fail.
‘Pig!’ she shouted, and gave a quick jerk as instructed. It was called self-defence. She got the idea, standing well away with her arm stretched out, her hand stoutly on the lead-rein where it connected with the headcollar.
‘I’ll get the pitchfork,’ Imogen whispered, and they started to get the giggles. ‘She’s just like her owner. Animals are, everyone says so. That’s why Barney and Bluebell are so nice, like us.’
‘What does a computer nerd’s horse look like, I wonder?’
‘Dull.’
Strangely Joe’s horse was quite dull compared to Red Sky. The mare was all thoroughbred but Joe’s horse was built like a tank, a dark bay with an amiable, slightly surprised expression on his kind face.
‘What’s his name?’ Imogen asked.
‘Renkum Agostini de Ness Twitterwake.’
‘You’re joking!’
‘No. We call him Wake. He’s a darling. Joe doesn’t know how lucky he is.’
Snappy was to go in the end box where Dodo and Duffer had been, on top of Jake’s treasure. Wake went next to her. The two girls had to admit they did add glamour to the old barn and couldn’t help feeling quite excited to see the two aristocratic heads looking over the half doors.
‘Are there any more coming?’
‘Two more. The Equestrian Centre is annoyed at us leaving to come here, taking two of their other liveries with us. So we thought we’d better do it gradually.’
‘Is that where you were before then? At Standing District Equestrian Centre?’
‘Yeah. I knew Auntie lived nearby and saw the possibilities of this place, having it for myself.’
‘And us,’ said Imogen. ‘We come with it.’
Snouty actually laughed.
‘I’m working on it,’ she said. ‘Treat me to a cup of tea in your barn – I’m dying for a drink. Then I might think more kindly of you.’
‘We’re no trouble,’ said Imogen, ‘When treated properly.’
‘We might strike a bargain, agreed.’
The bargain, it transpired, was mucking out and giving the early morning feeds.
‘That’s you, Millie. You’re so near,’ said Imogen. ‘The feeds, I mean.’
Millie was in the habit of visiting the ponies on the way to school so it would not be a lot of extra work. Except—
‘What about Snappy, if she’s so horrible? I don’t want to get killed.’
‘I’ll put the feeds ready in mangers that hang over the door. You needn’t go in. Not to Snappy anyway.’
Polly Power, lounging on the boys’ sofa with her mug of dubious tea, was suddenly sounding quite human.
‘The trouble here is having no arena. That’s where we do most of our riding. We can make an arena in the field that will do for the summer, but come the winter when the ground gets soft it will be useless. I think I might have one built anyway and hope your dreadful planning people won’t notice.’
‘They’re bound to see it from the road.’
‘I thought we might put it behind the stable block, not so public, between the stables and the river.’
‘It might get flooded there.’
‘It might get built, that’s the point. If it’s concealed from the road.’
‘There’s good hacking on the other side of the river, across the ford.’
‘We don’t hack out very much.’
Poor horses, the girls thought, but didn’t say.
‘We turn them out in the daytime, while we’re at work.’
At work? What work? They knew what Joe did but were too polite to ask what work she did, only relieved to know she wasn’t going to be underfoot all the time. Amazed that she was turning out quite human. Smiling!
‘I’ll feed the horses now and leave them. But I’ll come back in the car before I go to bed, see that they’re settled.’
She parked the horsebox more out of the way in the yard, called up a taxi on her mobile and quite soon departed.
‘Blimey, she’s mellowed!’ said Millie. ‘Mucking out two boxes and putting the feeds over the doors is pretty good for free livery.’
‘What about when the others come?’ said Imogen. ‘Amy and Alex? Mucking out four boxes, and our own, in the winter will take a bit of time.’
‘Oh, that’s ages yet. Amy and Alex might do their own.’
‘I wonder what sort of horses they’ve got? Are they into dressARGE too?’
‘I think we ought to take it up. Going round in circles and sideways – I bet Barney and Bluebell could do it.’
‘We could get free lessons!’
‘But do we want to, that’s the point?’ Millie recalled the lovely ride up through the woods to Standing Hall, just taking in the smell of the spring trees and listening to the birdsong. She thought dressage was probably very hard work. Not just sitting there, enjoying.
Snouty, when they saw her next, confirmed that it was.
‘Snappy is not really made for dressage. People choose German or Dutch-bred horses on the whole, what are called sports horses; they aren’t so volatile as thoroughbreds, steadier, more amenable. Wake is perfect for the job but Snappy isn’t.’
‘What about Barney and Bluebell?’
‘They could try. They could do it, but they would always look a bit odd because of the way they’re built.’
‘What do you mean, a bit wonky?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s wrong with them?’
‘Well, where shall I start? Head too big on neck too short, shoulders too straight, back too long, too narrow through the front, pasterns too upright, feet too small, hocks too straight—’
‘At least they don’t bite,’ Millie cut in.
‘Teeth too blunt,’ said Imogen.
‘It doesn’t mean they can’t learn to do some dressage. Dressage is only obedience, in essence, and developing the horse’s natural abilities.’
The two girls looked at each other. Did they want to develop their ponies’ natural abilities? Maybe.
‘Would you give us a lesson?’
‘Fifty pounds an hour.’
They laughed.
‘We’ll get a book from the library,’ Imogen said. ‘You can learn things out of books for nothing. Are Amy and Alex dressage freaks as well?’
‘No. And that’s a bit annoying because I was hoping to persuade them to make a quadrille with Joe and me, to go in for competitions. In dressage, a quadrille is a foursome, usually to music. The Equestrian Centre wins all the competitions round here and I thought it would be nice to beat them. They think no one can beat them.’
‘We could join you, to make a quadrille,’ said Imogen obligingly. ‘It would be original, wouldn’t it, to have us in? A bit different. That’s what everyone looks for, something different.’
Polly laughed. ‘It would be funny.’
‘Yes, that’s what spectators want, a bit of fun. They get bored seeing everything so perfect. I went to a village dog agility competition a little while ago and it was nothing like the ones you see at Olympia on television: the dogs weren’t very good and went the wrong way and under the jumps instead of over, and stopped to fight or have a pee and it was really, really funny. Everyone loved it.’
‘If you were good up to the standard your ponies are capable of, it would still be quite funny, alongside me and Joe,’ Polly said. ‘If you want to win—’
‘I left the Equestrian Centre because the woman that ran it was so obnoxious. I would love to beat her.’
The girls wondered how obnoxious she was compared with Polly but kept a tactful silence. Afterwards, comparing notes, they agreed that Polly was showing signs of being quite human.
‘Okay, we’ll try dressage,’ said Imogen. ‘I’ll get a book. We can’t afford fifty pounds.’
‘You’re so competitive,’Millie complained. ‘Why can’t we just ride about?’
‘Yes, we can, but we can go sideways sometimes to try it out, and a little pirouette here and there.’
The next day she came with an ancient book under her arm. It was called Equitation written by a man called HenryWynmalen, who appeared in the photos looking very old-fashioned in a soft sun hat and baggy jodhpurs.
‘It’s fantastic,’ she said. ‘Read it and you’ll know everything. More than Snouty, I bet. Lots of diagrams about going sideways, and masses of photos of everyone doing everything beautifully.’
‘Huh.’
Imogen could read massive books in a few days and actually remember everything in them. Unlike Millie. The next day she came with a book called Classical Circus Equitation.
‘Look at this! It tells you how to teach a horse to bow. If we bowed at the end we would be sure to win! I bet Snappy can’t bow.’
Millie looked and saw a photo of seven riders standing up on three horses, mostly on top of each other, and thought Imogen was being slightly optimistic.
‘Where on earth do you find these books?’
‘At the recycling depot. There’s a bin for books. I get lots there. This has got lots about quadrilles.’
Millie flipped a few pages and paused at ‘Teaching your horse to kiss’. There was a footnote that said ‘Do not do this trick too often in case the horse takes to biting your face.’ She was not impressed.
‘Gives you something to work towards, doing a quadrille with Snouty and Joe,’ Imogen said.
Millie didn’t want something to work towards. GCSEs were bad enough. Perhaps Amy and Alex would be more her style. She realized they didn’t know anything about this couple, even if they were adults or children. When Snouty came back they enquired.
‘Oh yes, I was going to warn you. Alex’s okay but Amy’s a bit of a problem. In fact they gave her notice to leave at the other place, which is why I thought it would be quite a good time for me to leave too. And the others.’
Millie and Imogen exchanged glances.
‘Problem? How a problem?’
Snouty sighed.
‘You’ll see.’
‘You’ve got to give us a warning!’
