Stables S.O.S. (14 page)

“Oh, look out, here comes know-it-all,” murmured Drummer, shaking his head and making his tie-up ring on the wall rattle. I stopped picking out his shoe and looked up to see who he was talking about.
I
didn't know Drummer called him that
, I thought. How rude!

“I've come to say good-bye,” Alex said, giving me a hug. “Take care of yourself, Pony Whisperer Pia.”

“Oh,” I said, “must you go?”

“I'm afraid so,” Alex replied, grinning. “I have work to do, you know. This little escapade has been very interesting, but I have equine clients at home that need some therapy. And when you gotta go, you gotta go!”

I
suppose
my
plan
for
Alex
and
my
mom
would
never
have
worked
out
really
, I thought with a sinking heart. And besides, if it had, we would probably have moved to Alex's place and, much as I loved the thought of living such an equine fairy tale, deep down I didn't want to leave Laurel Farm. Drummer certainly didn't. Now that we'd saved the stables I didn't want us to go anywhere. What had I been thinking?

The
trouble
with
you, Pia
, I told myself,
is
that
you
don't think things through
.
Stop
and
go
through
the
consequences
of
any
plans
next
time.

“Oh, and Jessica asked me to give you this,” said Alex, handing me an envelope. He winked as he said it, which I thought was odd. “It's for all of you, all of you who helped Jessica find the mosaic.”

“What do you mean?” asked Drummer indignantly. “She didn't find it, we did—Moth, Bluey, Tiffany, Bambi, and I. Jessica found diddly-squat.”

“Shhhh!” I told him, thinking how ungrateful the ponies would be about a thank-you card, which was obviously what the envelope contained.
They'd rather have a sack of carrots
, I thought.

“What's Drum saying?” asked Alex.

“He's just sorry to see you go,” I lied, stuffing the envelope in my pocket with Epona.

“Coward!” snorted Drummer.

“If you ever need any help with any more adventures, you know where to reach me,” Alex said, smiling. “And say good-bye to your mother for me, won't you. She's a wonderful woman, and that Mike is a lucky man. I wouldn't be surprised if you're asked to be a bridesmaid before too long.”

I froze. Did he really mean what I thought he meant? My mom? Mike-the-bike? The shock subsided.
Actually
, I thought,
I
wouldn't mind that at all.
Mom seemed really chilled nowadays, and Mike was easy to get along with. Not like some of my mother's ex-boyfriends. I shrugged my shoulders. As long as I didn't have to wear some god-awful peach number and have my hair styled.

“Aren't you going to see Carol again?” I asked him, my eyes wide and innocent. Alex gave me a look.

“She really liked you,” I said, rubbing it in. Alex, always polite, smiled.

“And I liked her,” he lied. “Now don't forget you're welcome to visit any time you and your family are in my neck of the woods. I mean it, Pia, any time!”

I grinned and nodded, and we hugged, and then Alex got in his car and drove off down the driveway, with me waving after him

Alex
Willard
is
my
friend
, I thought to myself. It sounded so weird.

My cell phone rang. My heart sank as I flipped it open.

“Pia!” a voice shouted out from it.

“Hi, Dad!” I replied, hearing Drummer sigh beside me.

“Just thought I'd let you know that Lyn and I have found the most lovely cottage with a couple of acres a few towns away. We're putting in an offer, and the great news is that when you come and stay with us, you'll be able to bring Drummer with you!”

Is
that
good?
I thought. What did they want a couple of acres for?

“Lyn's decided she really wants to live in the country,” Dad went on. “She's going to get a goat.”

She
gets
my
goat
, I thought, imagining a goat pulling Skinny along, nibbling her laundry on a clothesline, getting into her country kitchen. She'd obviously been watching too many of those “moving to the country” shows on TV.
That
wouldn't last
, I thought. I'd give it one winter, tops.

“That's fabulous, Dad,” I said, hanging up after promising I'd go and stay with them soon and wondering how I could get out of it. I finished grooming Drummer and went for a ride with Bean—carefully avoiding going anywhere near the icehouse.

“This is blissful,” Bean said, closing her eyes and tilting her face up to catch the warmth of the sun.

“We've saved the stables after all—whaaaa!”

Tiffany stopped dead in her tracks and snorted at a plastic shopping bag hanging off a branch. Pushing herself back off Tiffany's neck, Bean recovered her composure.

“Of course,” Drummer said, “the other, more pressing problem is still with us.”

I said nothing. When it came to Bambi, we had failed. There was no good way to say it.

It wasn't until we got back, and I dismounted in the stable that I remembered the thank-you note. Pulling it out of my pocket, I got everyone's attention.

“Alex gave me this,” I said, waving the envelope in the air. “It's to all of us.”

“What is it?” asked James, yawning.

“I'll read it,” I replied, ripping open the envelope. There it was, the suspected thank-you note. It wasn't quite how I had imagined it, though.

“Dear Pia, Katy, Bean, Cat, Dee, and James,” I read out. “Here is a share of the proceeds from the sale of the ring found on Adam Rowe in the icehouse, to the local museum. Over four hundred years old, the ring belonged to one of the original Rowes. It was decided by the powers that be that it should belong to the museum as there are no more Rowes living now, so I want you to have a share of its value to enjoy. I know you will spend it wisely. It was great working with you all—without you I would never have found the Roman mosaic!”

“Is she still taking the credit for that?” exclaimed Drummer, miffed.

“I hope you'll enjoy watching the show when it is aired. Thanks again, love, Jessica.”

“Oh wow!” exclaimed Dee, “a reward!”

“How much is it, Pia?” asked Katy.

“Pah, fifty bucks tops!” snorted James.

I unfolded the check inside the card. It was made out to Sophie, but with a note stapled to it to say it was to be shared between us all.

“Oh!” I gasped.

Five heads all crammed over my shoulders.

“Is that three zeros?” asked Katy incredulously.

I nodded, my mouth open in shock. I held in my hand a check for three thousand dollars.

“Where is everyone?” I asked Katy, propping my bike up against the wall.

“Dee's at a show, and the others are riding,” Katy replied. “Me and Bluey are entered for a working hunter class at the Pinewood show tomorrow, which is why I'm giving him a bath. Are you going?”

“I am actually,” I told her, going to give Bluey a pat on the neck, but changing my mind and stroking his nose instead, because that was a dry part. “I've entered Drummer for the riding club pony class, and I thought we'd have a stab at the tack and turnout—and the clear round, of course. I'll get Drummer in and give him a bath, too.”

“It's such a lovely hot day,” Katy said, sticking her thumb on the end of the hose so that it sprayed over Bluey's legs. Bluey lifted up first one hind leg then the other in response to its iciness. I knew Drummer would go on and on about the temperature of the water, even though it was a hot day. I wondered whether I might lock Epona in my tack box so I wouldn't have to listen to him going on about it.

The bay pony in question was waiting by the gate looking fed up when I went to get him in from the field. The
new
field. It meant only Pippin and Henry would be left out there tearing at the grass.

No Bambi there, of course.

When Drummer saw Bluey surrounded by water, he threw up his head and rolled his eyes.

“Puh-leese tell me I'm not in for all that nonsense!” he said dramatically.

“Oh, don't make such a fuss,” I told him, tying him up outside his stable. A pale rectangle with two empty screw holes showed where Bambi's nameplate used to hang on the stable next door.

“You want to look nice for the show tomorrow, don't you?” I asked Drummer.

“A show? First I've heard about it!”

Ignoring the complaints, I was just working a lather up on Drummer's mane when I heard a muffled banging noise. We all heard it. Drummer and Bluey turned to look while Katy and I stared at each other in alarm.

It was coming from Mrs. Collins's house.

“What was that?” I asked.

Katy shrugged her shoulders.

“There it is again!” I said, as the banging continued and then stopped.

“It sounds to me,” began Drummer, “that Mrs. C's house is no longer empty.”

“Do you think Robert Collins is in there?” I asked Katy.

She shook her head. “His car's not here—it can't be him.”

“You don't think…?” I said, walking across the yard to whisper to her.

“What?”

“You don't think it could be Mrs. Collins, do you?”

“You mean…?”

“Kicked the bucket and come back to haunt us?” Katy lifted her head in that sensible way she does. “No!” she said decisively. “But I think we ought to investigate, even so.”

I didn't like the sound of that, but before I could protest, Katy walked up to the door of the house and knocked purposefully on it. I crept up behind her, not wanting to appear nervous, even though I was. That whole body-in-the-icehouse thing (sorry, bodies, plural) had gotten to me.

Without warning the door was wrenched open, and both Katy and I took a step back when we saw who it was standing in front of us in her robe and slippers, Twiddles cradled in her arms and Squish by her side.

She looked real enough.

“Mrs. Collins, is that really you?” I asked, hardly daring to breathe.

“Of course it is,” she replied crossly. “Who else would it be?”

“It's just that, well, we thought…” began Katy. She stopped, unsure how to go on.

“You thought what?”

“Er, well we thought your son was going to take over running this place,” Katy said, surprised into telling the truth.

“Humph!” snorted Mrs. Collins, throwing back her head. For one terrible moment I thought she was going to spit. Tiddles narrowed his eyes at us—but because he was in Mrs. Collins's arms he couldn't very well do his evil cat act. He had to maintain his cuddly kitty persona. I could see how much it was hurting him. I felt no sympathy.

“My son,” began Mrs. C, drawing herself up to her full height of at least five feet nothing in her slippered feet, “had some fancy ideas about this place, which he isn't smart enough to keep to himself! I leave the place for a minute, and when I come back the field's all dug up like there's a highway going through it, some TV people are telling me what I can and can't do on my own land, the National Heritage busybodies are yakking on about me swapping my perfectly good field for another one, and the only good thing to come out of it is some talk of compensation, which I don't mind admitting, I have a use for. And I've lost a pony that I can't afford—if I'd been in the hospital any longer I dare say I'd have come back to a yard of empty boxes and no rent coming in. Honestly, I can't turn my back on this place for a second without it all falling apart.”

“But your son…” began Katy.

“Enough!” snapped Mrs. C, holding up her hand. “I know all about his scheme, and it's never going to happen. The only way he's ever going to get his greedy little hands on this place is when I'm carried out feet first, and that's not going to be for a long, long time, especially now that I've got my pacemaker!” She tapped at her chest and glared at us, her gray hair framing her face like some wild silver halo.

I glanced at Katy, and she looked back at me. This was music to our ears.

“Now I've got to go,” continued Mrs. C, turning around and shuffling back into the hall. “I've got those stair lift people coming to measure and take some of that compensation money off my hands. Make sure the stables are tidy and don't leave the hose running—there was a huge puddle when I came back last night. I hope that Charlotte girl isn't washing her hair up here again! I've told her about that.”

“No, Mrs. C!” we said in unison as the front door was shut in our faces.

“Wow!” breathed Katy. “I don't think we ought to get her wound up like that again. She might have another heart attack, pacemaker or no pacemaker.”

“I don't know why we ever doubted that she would return,” I said. “She's as tough as old boots.”

“I bet son Robert got a piece of her mind!” giggled Katy.

“Phew, I wouldn't like to have been in his shoes when his mom found out about his scheme,” I said, remembering how I'd imagined Robert Collins intimidating his mother. How wrong was I?

“You do realize, don't you,” said Katy, “that there was never any chance of Robert Collins building on the ponies' field. All that planning, all that disruption, all that…that…
angst
was for nothing!”

“Well,” I said, giving her a look, “not quite
nothing
.”

Everything was back to normal.

Almost.