Poor Badger (5 page)

‘Why did they sell you to that awful man, Badger?’ But Dad Smith had paid the large price, according to the gossiping ladies at the show. The pony’s owners had taken their money, and not cared that Dad Smith didn’t know anything about how to look after a pony.

‘They are just as wicked as Mr Smith,’ Ros thought, with justice.

She longed to take Badger there and then, and half decided to – then she realized she had nothing to lead him with. The chain was fastened to the leather neck collar with a shackle she hadn’t the strength in her fingers to undo, and she could hardly carry all the chain with her. She would have to get a head collar and lead-rope before she attempted the real thing.

‘Oh, Badger, I will come soon, I promise! I promise!’

She would find herself a head collar that very day.

When she left, the pony followed to the end of his chain and then let out a quite piercing whinny
after
her. Ros, gulping back the tears, ran for her life. Suppose somebody heard him? But, back on the comparative safety of the railway bridge, she looked behind and nothing stirred. Nobody cared about Badger’s cry of loneliness and despair. Not a person save herself lost any sleep over a starving pony in the winter night.

So much for being bold General Palfrey making a survey of tactics. Ros ran all the way home, not caring who might see her or hear her. Only when she got to her back porch and kicked off her muddy boots, did she remember that she owed it to Badger to complete her practice-run successfully. It was terribly important that she got back to bed undiscovered, so that she could safely venture out again on the real mission.

She crept in, bolting the doors behind her. Erm did not bother to get up this time, only waving her tail vaguely once or twice, and Ros tiptoed upstairs, head down, scratchy with guilt. Nothing stirred. She slipped into her bedroom and threw off her clothes. She still had her pyjamas on underneath. Her bed was cold and she couldn’t stop shivering, although she felt as if she was burning. She could not get to sleep again, thinking all the time of Badger calling after her.

‘I will come tomorrow, Badger, I promise,’ she whispered into her pillow.

She fell asleep at last, only two hours before she had to get up again. She did not feel very general-like, pulling on her clothes, but her mind was made up.

The campaign was timed for the following night.

CHAPTER FIVE

ROS CROUCHED BENEATH
the hedge at the bottom of her garden, waiting for Leo. He had had strict instructions to join her at one thirty. It was now one thirty-five and there was no sign of life from Rose Manor End.

It was very quiet. There was no wind tonight, but the moon was hidden behind heavy cloud and it was very cold. Ros was worried it was going to snow. If it snowed they would leave footprints, not to mention hoofprints – a worrying thought. The alarm clock had awoken her from a heavy sleep. She had thought it must have roused the whole house, but no – not a sound anywhere. She had slipped out easily. A burglar could have a field day in their house, the way they all slept like the dead. Ros felt slightly indignant – cheated almost – that her dangerous mission proved so easy.

Waiting wasn’t good for the spirit. Ros felt herself becoming increasingly annoyed and nervous. The burning zeal of adventure was slithering away into cold, damp annoyance.

There seemed to be no cars on the road. Far away a dog barked. Ros could hear her own breath on the cold air.

Suddenly there was an almighty clang of metal on concrete, very close. Ros nearly leapt out of her skin. It was the Cross’s dustbin, overturned on the concrete path and the round lid rolling backwards and forwards with a great racket. She heard Leo’s squeak of alarm, and at the same time the upstairs window opened and Mr Cross’s uncertain voice shouted, ‘Who’s there?’

Ros froze, her heart hammering.

How lucky it was so dark! Leo had flattened himself against the wall of the house, and had the sense to keep as still as a shadow. He was such an idiot Ros had half expected him to answer his father’s question.

‘It’s a cat or something – a fox, perhaps,’ Mr Cross called back to his wife. ‘Only the dustbin.’

The window closed.

After a tense minute, Leo came down his garden path and slipped out of the gate. He was white and quivering, near to tears.

Ros, ready to castigate, decided encouragement would suit the situation better. ‘It’s OK! Don’t worry. You were really clever to keep so still! Come on, there’s nothing to be scared of.’

She set off at a great pace, so he had no choice but to follow her. They had a bucket of food, and
Ros
had borrowed a head collar and lead-rein off a girl in the form above her at school who had a pony. It would be a good clue for any police that might come snooping later, but Ros hadn’t enough money to buy one – later would have to look after itself.

Leo stopped whingeing and cheered up when he discovered how empty the world was. The way was so familiar the darkness did not hinder them. Only one car came down the road, and its headlights swung past as they waited in the shadow of the hedge.

‘All clear!’ Ros called out.

They ran across the road and up over the railway bridge. Ros was bursting with excitement. She felt no fear, only an enormous relief that the moment had come at last, to rescue Badger from his misery.

It was almost as if the pony was expecting them. He came towards them on his chain and Ros heard his soft rippling knucker of greeting. Leo held the bucket up to him but Ros said sharply, ‘No, you’ve got to save it for the bridge, in case he won’t go over.’ But Badger, having smelled the food, almost pulled the tether pin out of the ground to get to it. Leo backed off nervously. Badger
started
to paw the ground, ripping up clods of mud.

‘Oh, shut up, Badger! We’re going to give it you!’

Ros fastened the head collar behind his ears, and tried to unbuckle the leather neck-strap. But Badger was pulling on it so hard, she couldn’t release the buckle.

‘Here, Leo, you’ll have to let him have a noseful.’

With the pony’s head in the bucket, she was able to get the strain off the collar, and the rusted buckle came undone after some bruising effort. The chain dropped on the ground with a satisfying clank. Ros picked up the lead-rein firmly.

‘Go on, Leo, get a move on. Walk in front.’

The food was nearly all gone and they hadn’t started off yet. Leo backed off and Badger plunged after him. Ros held the rope firmly, trying not to get her feet trodden on. Even thin and poor as the pony was, he still felt terribly strong on the end of the rope and Ros began to feel worried. She couldn’t get him to take his nose out of the bucket, and by the time they got to the bottom of the footbridge steps the carrots were all eaten.

‘Go on ahead,’ Ros said to Leo. With luck the pony would go on following the bucket.

She started to lead him purposefully, and to her immense relief he started quite willingly up the wide steps. But when he got to the top he stopped, and would not go on. Leo held out the bucket in vain. Ros tugged at the head collar but Badger stood like a rock.

‘Please, Badger! We want to help you!’

Couldn’t he understand? The more Ros tugged, the more firmly he stood. He stuck his front feet out and stubbornly resisted.

‘Badger!’ Ros’s voice rose in a wail of despair.

Leo pushed behind and tried hitting him with the bucket, but Badger would not move.

‘Oh, what shall we do?’

They had stopped whispering and being secret, for they had the night to themselves. But below them, beyond the railway, two cars went by, and in the distance they could hear a faint clanking, as if from the goods yard.

‘It’s a train,’ Leo said.

‘They don’t come during the night!’

‘The gravel train does,’ Leo said solemnly. ‘Every night at two o’clock.’

‘I’ve never heard it!’

‘You’re always asleep then. I have.’

‘Why didn’t you warn me?’

‘I thought you knew.’

The noise of the approaching train was now quite distinct. Ros could feel the vibration of it in the soles of her gumboots. Badger stopped being mulish and pricked his ears, lifting his head. Ros clung to the rope grimly.

‘What shall we do?’

She could hear it now quite plainly, a heavy diesel train, travelling fast. Badger swung his head, obviously nervous. He backed a few steps and his back feet slipped off the top step.

‘Oh, come on, Badger! Quickly, before it comes!’

But there was nothing she could do. The train came with a roar and the whole bridge shook. Badger plunged and snatched at the lead-rope. Ros hung on grimly but was thrown on her face as Badger took off at a wild gallop. She let go with a shriek. Badger tore across the top of the bridge as the train thundered underneath, and Ros saw his muddy white tail disappear in a swirl as he galloped headlong down the the steps on the other side.

‘Badger, stop! Stop!’

Ros got up and ran. Leo sprinted after her, leaving the bucket bouncing behind. They got to the far side of the bridge in time to see Badger, having lost his footing, scrambling to his feet at the bottom of the steps.

‘Badger, please! Badger, stop! Oh, do stop!’

But Ros could tell the pony was thoroughly alarmed, as much at being loose as by the train, and, with an excited tossing of his muddy mane, he started to trot along ahead of them. He trotted out on to the main road and turned up along the carriageway, in the opposite direction to what Ros intended, rope lead trailing.

‘Oh, he’ll be killed if a car comes!’ Ros shrieked.

She ran as fast as she could, but Badger wasn’t stopping. He didn’t gallop, but just kept ahead, trotting fast. Ros was terrified. All thoughts of keeping hidden and secret had flown on the wind. Her expedition had taken off and was out of her control. Even as she ran, the lights of an approaching car began to beam over the slight rise ahead. Her worst fears were realized. Badger was on the wrong side, and the car was coming fast towards him.

Unlike trains, cars were familiar to Badger, and he did not turn and run. He stopped, and stood foursquare on the tarmac. The headlights picked him up and he looked for a moment like the old Badger, head up and eyes shining. The car
swerved
and braked. On the wet road it went into a screaming skid, slewing sideways and missing Badger by inches. Ros got a brief blurred glance of a man’s white face, quite close, then the car was past, and did not stop. It straightened up and accelerated away. Badger meanwhile turned and leapt across the central barrier and careered away into some bushes on the far side of the road.

‘Come on!’

Ros ran too. She jumped the barrier and Leo followed. Ros was aching with stitch and fear and having no breath. This was nothing like she had planned. Secrecy was no longer the problem. The problem was getting Badger back.

‘At least the train made him go!’ Leo panted behind her.

But go where?

There was now no sign of him. They were on the far side of the road and with Ros’s pocket torch they could see Badger’s hoofmarks in the wet grass. The verge had been planted with trees and bushes but they weren’t yet very big.