Scout and the Mystery of the Marsh Ponies (3 page)

Chapter Four

The girls met at Blackberry Farm earlier than usual the next day, when the sun was bright but it was still slightly chilly. They raced to the paddock and rode their ponies bareback up the path to the yard. They mixed feeds and flicked the ponies over, then gathered in the tack room. Mia pulled the map which they’d used earlier in the summer from her pocket.

“There’s Dragonfly Marsh,” Alice said, finding it a couple of miles away from Blackberry Farm, across fields and down little lanes.

“And look, there’s Hollow Hill, way over there,” Charlie pointed out, leaning over Alice’s shoulder. Alice traced the route between Hollow Hill and Dragonfly Marsh with her finger. The map clearly
showed that the two places were separated by fields, hills, woods and farms, all interlaced with lots of bridleways and lanes.

While Mia worked out the route, Alice turned her mind to more important things than where places were located on a map. She picked up her grooming kit, and as she gently brushed Scout’s face she ran through what she would say to Scarlett. Scout lowered his head, closing his eyes. Alice smiled and kissed his forehead, then felt her heart squeeze hard as she remembered that very soon someone else could be doing this with Scout.

When an hour had ticked slowly by and enough time had passed after the ponies had been fed, everyone tacked up. Alice fumbled as she tried to do up the buckles on her supple bridle, shaking as she threaded the loose straps through their keepers. Soon after the ponies were led out of their stables, the girls mounted and rode off along Duck Lane.

They turned onto a grassy path alongside a stubble field. After not being able to sleep the night before, Alice was on edge; her jangling, wriggling unease had turned overnight into a leaden feeling in her chest, made up of fear and steely determination. She wasn’t going to give Scout up without the biggest fight of her life, but it was a fight she was terrified of losing.

They rode out of one field, across a dirt track then into another field with a grass strip around the barley crop. As soon as Charlie softened her reins Pirate squealed and shot forward, leaping straight into a choppy gallop. Scout bounced, his head up and his ears pricked. Alice squeezed his sides and he plunged forward, bucking excitedly as he chased Pirate. Wish floated behind them, covering the ground effortlessly, her small black Arab hooves barely touching the grass and her creamy mane flowing.

They pulled up as they got to the end of the field, the fit ponies barely blowing as they waited
for Dancer to catch up. The strawberry roan cob trundled along at a slow canter, refusing to go any faster. Her big, round hooves thudded the ground as Rosie, pink-cheeked, loudly encouraged her. But Dancer, her ears out sideways and snorting with every stride, wouldn’t be hurried.

“Come on, Rosie!” Charlie called urgently. “It would be good to get there today!”

“I’m trying, in case you hadn’t noticed!” Rosie puffed crossly as she finally caught up with them. “You try telling Dancer to go fast on a hot summer’s day – it’s not easy, I can assure you!”

They jogged into the cool shade of the undulating woods. They leaned back in their saddles to help the ponies balance as they headed down the slopes, then cantered up the other sides. They emerged out of the woods and followed the bridleway up the edge of a steep hill, letting their ponies canter on again.

When they got to the top, they stood up in their stirrups and the ponies dropped back to
a walk. Below them, at the bottom of the hill, a gate led onto a hedge-lined lane.

“That’s it,” Mia said, checking her map. “That’s Hollow Hill.”

Alice stared down at the scattered, uneven row of cottages dotted randomly along the lane. The girls looked across to her and tried to smile. Alice knew that they all felt as nervous as she did. Scout’s ears pricked as they rode down the rolling hill and through the gate. Suddenly, Alice started to panic and her mind went blank; she could only remember half sentences of what she’d planned to say to Scarlett. A bolt of fear shot wildly through her, making her heart thunder and her hands start to shake. She took a deep breath. She couldn’t afford to get this wrong; it was her best opportunity to keep her favourite pony in the world.

Chapter Five

The handful of cottages were spread out all the way along the lane. Right ahead of them was number one.

“Thirteen must be at the far end,” Charlie said, squinting up the lane.

They rode along, Alice’s stomach flipping as they trotted past each isolated little cottage, counting them until they got to the last on the right-hand side.

“Um, that’s only number twelve,” Rosie pointed out, craning her neck to look ahead. “I can’t see any more on the other side.”

“There must be – we just need to ride further. Come on,” Mia said decisively, but as she led the group of four along the lane beside a huge,
overgrown bushy hedge on one side, even she started to doubt that there was another cottage tucked away.

They kept walking until they reached a mossy sign, almost hidden by the overgrown hedge that it sat in front of. It read ‘Hollow Common’.

“This must be the end of Hollow Hill, then.” Mia frowned, halting Wish.

Taking the break as an opportunity to refuel, Dancer lunged towards the tempting hedge and shoved in her nose, taking a big bite. Rosie suddenly got a close-up view of what lay beyond. The hedge was dense, but now she was almost in it, courtesy of Dancer, she could see that it hid a vast, scrubby patch of worn land. The grass looked bare, with patches of vibrant yellow, poisonous ragwort sprouting up everywhere, and beyond the hedge the land was edged with rusty barbed wire. An old tin bath with sharp edges half filled with green, slimy water sat in one corner. There was one old field shelter with a flapping
corrugated tin roof over a wooden frame, with holes the size of hooves kicked in it.

“Nothing in there,” Rosie announced, struggling to convince Dancer she’d had enough of a fill-up.

“We must have missed it,” Charlie said as she spun Pirate round and started to trot back towards where they’d started from.

They rode up the lane past all the cottages and started again at number one. Then, riding slowly and peering everywhere, they headed along the lane once more and stopped by the last cottage, number twelve. It had no curtains at the windows, peeling paint around the frames, and cobwebs across the black, flaking front door and the wonky garden gate. It was the last cottage in the lane, and it was deserted. Beside it they could see a small paddock.

“I don’t get it!” Rosie said, counting out the little cottages with her whip in the air. “There is no number thirteen.” 

Alice looked up and down the lane desperately.

Suddenly a window was thrown open in a cottage further up. A girl, who looked about the same age as them, leaned out.

“Are you lost?” she shouted down, pushing her glasses back up her nose to stop them slipping off.

“No, we’re looking for Mrs Valentine and her daughter Scarlett,” Mia called back. “She’s meant to live in number thirteen…”

“Never heard of her,” the girl said, as the others rode their ponies closer to her cottage, “and there’s never been a number thirteen on this lane. Mrs Hawk lived in number twelve but she left over a year ago.”

The girl at the window was about to dip back inside, but then she suddenly gasped. “Hang on a sec – isn’t that Pip?”

She disappeared, leaving the girls looking confused, before reappearing moments later at the front door in a bright green top, denim shorts and trainers. She bobbed over, her wavy blonde hair
bouncing with every stride. She made a beeline for Scout.

“It certainly looks like Pip,” the girl said warily, stopping a few steps away from the dappled grey. She looked up and saw the girls staring at her. “Oh, sorry. I’m Beth Bright. I
know
this pony – I haven’t seen him for a while but I’m
sure
I recognise him.”

“Who’s Pip?” Rosie asked, making a face. “That pony’s called Scout. He was Sunny before that, but never Pip.”

“Well, he looks identical,” Beth said, sounding uncertain. “Ooh, I know how we could tell for sure – has he got a scar? On his near fore knee?”

The others all looked at Alice, fully expecting her to say no and put an end to the identity mix-up. Instead, Alice went pink and looked flustered.

“
Has
he got a scar there?” Mia asked.

“Well, yes, he has, but…”

“I
told
you it was Pip!” Beth interrupted loudly. “Sammy, who lived next door to us,
used to own him. She kept him turned out in the paddock behind her cottage.”

“It can’t be the same pony – Mrs Valentine has owned Scout since he was a foal,” Alice corrected Beth, certain that she’d made a mistake.

“Anyway, lots of ponies have scars all over the place,” Charlie added. “So just because Scout happens to have a scar in the same place it doesn’t exactly prove he’s Pip.”

Beth raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. Mia noticed how sure she looked, though.

“How long did Sammy own Pip for?” she asked, deciding that as Pony Detectives, it was their job to find out as much as they could now they were at Hollow Hill.

“Well, not long as it goes,” Beth said, eyeing Scout suspiciously. “One day he totally flipped and threw her on the way back from a ride, pretty much right where you’re standing now. No warning, no reason,
nothing
. Sammy’s left leg was smashed with a bone poking out and everything!
She had to stay in hospital for ages. Mrs Hawk saw the accident and told us what had happened when we heard all the screaming and came running out to help. By then, Pip had calmed down and was just standing there, shaking. His head was down and there was blood pouring from his knee from where he’d come down on the lane. That’s how I know it’s him – because of the scar.”

“So what happened then?” Charlie asked, intrigued by Beth’s story.

“Sammy’s parents were so scared of Pip after that that they got rid of him before Sammy even came out of hospital,” Beth told them. “I don’t blame them either, not after seeing what he did to her.”

“So where did this Pip end up?” Rosie asked.

“Well, I don’t really know,” Beth said. “To begin with Mrs Hawk offered to look after him for Sammy’s parents. So he was turned out behind Mrs Hawk’s cottage here, for, like, a month or something. Then Mrs Hawk suddenly disappeared.
Overnight. Dad said she was involved in some sort of scandal, something to do with ponies, although I can’t remember quite what now. Anyway, Pip disappeared with Mrs Hawk and that was the last I ever heard of him. Till now, that is.”

Alice looked down at Scout dozing in the sunshine. None of what Beth said tallied with what Mrs Valentine had told her about Scout’s past, and her grey pony would never behave in the way Beth had described. Beth had to be wrong. But then she was
so
convinced, it was difficult to ignore what she said. And Scout did have that scar…

“Did you say Sammy used to live in this lane?” Mia asked. Beth nodded. “I don’t suppose you know where she lives now, do you?”

“I can’t remember where she moved to. My sister would know, but she’s out,” Beth said, knitting her brow as she thought and wanting to be helpful. “Ooh – although I do know that she’s
just taken a nice cob on part loan. He sounds really sweet and reliable from what my sister’s said, nothing like
that
crazy pony. Sammy’s keeping him at her friend’s house – at Hawthorn Farm – she’s up there all the time now. Do you know where I mean? Its not far from here.”

“That’s where Poppy and Moonlight live!” Charlie cried.

“We’ll head there now. That way we can double-check Scout’s identity by seeing if Sammy recognises him,” Mia smiled, relieved that they had something concrete to go on. “Thanks for your help, Beth.”

Beth grinned, showing off a brace, then skipped back along the small lane to her cottage’s front gate, waving as she ran in through her front door.

“I’m pretty sure Beth’s got the wrong pony,” Alice said quietly as they set off in the direction of Hawthorn Farm. “I mean, why would Mrs Valentine lie about Scout’s past?” 
Charlie shrugged. “Beth probably just got muddled up, that’s all.”

“Although Mrs Valentine did lie about living in Hollow Hill, remember?” Rosie pointed out.

Alice shivered. Rosie had a point, and suddenly her conviction that Beth had got it wrong started to waver.