Emily's Dream Page 8

  They’d decided that as quite a lot of people had entered the fancy dress, they’d better have second and third prizes as well, and Billy came second. The third prize went to a lurcher who was dressed as a three-headed dog, and he might well have beaten Billy and the sausage dog if he hadn’t got sick of the whole fancy-dress thing and started eating one of his heads on the way round the ring.

  Emily was clapping for Poppy and Billy when someone tapped her on the shoulder. “You were the winners for the sausage-catching, weren’t you? Can I take your picture? I’m from the local paper.”

  “Oh! Yes, please.” Emily scrambled up. “I’m really glad you came – I’m Emily Harris, it was me who emailed you about the party. Thanks for putting so much in the paper about it – it made lots more people come.”

  The man smiled at her. “No problem. It made a fun article – all those great photos of the animals. Can you put your arms round him and smile? He’s Charlie, isn’t he?”

  Emily did as she was told, and the man snapped several photos. “Great. That’s all the winners, I think. Brilliant idea, the dog show. Especially the fancy dress. I took loads of those.”

  Emily looked at him thoughtfully. “Did you know that someone adopted one of those dogs that was in the article? Posy, the Jack Russell? They saw her in the paper, and went to the shelter. I don’t suppose you could put more photos in the paper? Like – like a dog of the week? Or Kitten Corner, something like that? A Please Adopt Me page.”

  The man looked at her thoughtfully. “That’s a good idea. I’ll pass that on to the local reporter – she’s the one who wrote the last article. I could get her to call you, could I?”

  “Yes, or Lucy, she runs the shelter.” Emily beamed at him. Lucy would be so excited.

  “I’ll do that. Thanks, then. Bye, Charlie.” The man stroked Charlie’s beautiful curly ears. “You’re lucky having him, he’s cute. And a brilliant sausage-catcher!”

  Emily almost started to explain that actually Charlie wasn’t hers, she was just looking after him, but then she just smiled. She could pretend, just for once, couldn’t she?

  “Yes, he is,” she said proudly. She scratched Charlie under the chin – his favourite place; scratching him there made him close his eyes and sigh blissfully. Then she shook herself. “Come on, sweetheart. We’d better give you back.”

  She looked around for Mrs Everett, and saw that she’d moved her folding chair over so she was sitting with Mum and Dad. Toby and James and Sukie were crowded round the sausage dog, admiring his costume, and petting him. Mum waved to her, and Emily forced herself to smile as she walked Charlie over.

  “Well done!” Mrs Everett told her. “He looks lovely with his rosette on. I told you he’d win, didn’t I?”

  Emily nodded. “He’s a natural, like you said.”

  “He could be a national champion,” Emily’s dad said, grinning. “You should take him to compete further afield!”

  Mrs Everett smiled. “Actually, that’s the problem. It’s getting difficult for me taking Charlie anywhere – that’s why it’s been so wonderful having Emily to walk him for me.”

  “I can take him out more days if you can’t manage,” Emily put in.

  “It is getting harder.” Mrs Everett sighed. “In fact, I need to ask you a huge favour.”

  “I love doing it, I don’t mind,” Emily told her. “I could come before school if you like.”

  “That wouldn’t really help, Emily.” Mrs Everett stroked Charlie, who was leaning against her, panting happily. “As I was just explaining to your parents, I’m afraid I’m going to have to move house. There are some flats closer into town – sheltered housing, you know. They’re near to where my daughter lives, no stairs, someone around in case you fall. Very sensible, really. But no dogs allowed.”

  “Oh, no…” Emily whispered. “Will you have to take Charlie to the shelter?” She wasn’t sure she could bear Charlie being there. Lucy and Emily and Maya and all the volunteers did their best, but Charlie was used to his own lovely home.

  Mrs Everett looked between Emily and her mum and dad. “I’d hate that, but actually, I had a much better idea. I was hoping that I might be able to give him to you.”

  Emily gaped at her. It was the last thing she’d expected Mrs Everett to say. “But – but we can’t have a dog… I’d love him, you know I would, but we don’t have the room.” And he eats cakes, she added sadly in her head.

  “Well, we do really,” her dad said, reaching out to rub Charlie’s ears. “He’s not huge.”

  Emily snapped her head round, staring at him in amazement. She’d expected her parents to say a grateful, polite, very firm no.

  “But you always said… And Mum said… And he ate the birthday cake!”

  Her mum was smiling. “We’ve been thinking about pets. You’ve worked so hard at the shelter, and with Charlie. You’ve looked after him beautifully. And he is usually very well-behaved, isn’t he? The cake wasn’t really his fault. I don’t think he needs training at all, it should be James and Toby who have classes.”

  “You mean, we can really have him?” Emily whispered. She threw her arms around her mum and dad. “Oh, thank you! And thank you, Mrs Everett! You know I’ll look after him for you, and bring him to visit…”

  Then she caught at Charlie’s lead. He’d jumped up to sniff curiously at Billy’s warhorse costume, as Poppy and Maya and Izzy came over.

  “We’ve made fifty-six pounds just from the dog show!” Izzy told her.

  “That’s brilliant…” Emily stroked Charlie’s rosette. She suddenly felt prouder of it than ever, now she knew that he was going to be hers.

  “Altogether, we’ve definitely raised enough for the new roof. Lucy’s so excited.” Maya put an arm round her. “And my dad fell in love with the guinea pigs, so I can definitely have two as my birthday present. What are you looking all teary for? Are you OK? Is it because Charlie won?”

  Emily nodded. “And because he’s going to be my dog!”

  Her friends looked at her in amazement. Then Izzy squealed and gave Emily a huge hug. Poppy and Maya joined in, and they all jumped up and down with excitement, while Charlie bounced around at their feet, barking delightedly.

  Emily thought she might burst with happiness – the day had been a great success, the shelter would get a new roof, and best of all, she had a dog of her very own!

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  “Just move, Lily. Go forward!” The rider’s steely-blue eyes flashed angrily as she sat astride the golden palomino pony. She turned back to her mobile, but not before she had given the little mare a hefty kick.

  The pony’s nostrils flared and she snorted, but still she refused to walk on. Tentatively, she eyed the bushes ahead of her, her ears twitching back and forth.

  “ENOUGH!” the girl cried. “Just do as I say!” With a loud thwack, she brought her riding crop down hard on the pony’s hindquarters.

  CRACK!

  The mare wheeled round with a cry of pain that seemed to echo through the depths of the surrounding countryside. Then, just at that moment, a pheasant exploded out in front of them, squawking and flapping. Catching her footing on the hard, frozen tarmac the startled pony slipped, her hooves scrabbling and sparking.

  “I said, go on!” the girl cried out. She struck the pony hard on her flanks again, frightening her even more. The mare reared in a moment of blind panic, tossing her head and showing the whites of her eyes.

  The girl was thrown off clear into the road, rolling out of the way as the pony slipped on to her side, scrambling and struggling on the muddy ground.

  “Jemma … Jemma … are you all right?” A voice crackled through the mobile lying on the road.

  As the girl lay winded and bruised, the pony scrabbled to her feet, her saddle slipping to one side and her reins broken.

  Desperate to get away from the girl, the pony wheeled round and galloped
wildly down the quiet road, veering on to a track that opened out to the moor beyond. With nothing to stop her, the pony raced and raced as if her life depended on it.

  When she had covered at least three miles, the palomino finally slowed. She snorted into the clear crisp air, her breath hanging in a silver plume. She was safe at last.

  “Phew, what a day that was!” Georgia slumped into her seat as the dark-green horse lorry pulled out of the showground. It was the first time she’d had a chance to relax all day, she’d been so busy grooming, plaiting and polishing. She hadn’t actually ridden herself but she wasn’t complaining. She loved being around horses and it was a real treat watching them compete.

  Georgia especially loved Wilson, the big bay thoroughbred cross, and there was no doubt about it – he’d definitely been the star of the show! Georgia smiled as she pulled her tangled golden hair back into a ponytail. Wilson was owned by the Haydens – Sophie and her mother, Melanie – and was just one of the ponies that Georgia helped looked after in their yard.

  “Thanks again for everything you’ve done today, Georgia,” said Melanie as she drove the horse lorry down the bumpy old track and joined a long queue of horseboxes making their way home. “We couldn’t have done it without you, could we, Sophs?” She turned to her daughter.

  “Er, what was that?” Sophie looked up from the text she’d been busily composing.

  “I said we couldn’t have managed without Georgia’s help today, could we?” Melanie frowned at her daughter, who was still engrossed in her phone.

  “Er, no,” Sophie mumbled. She was sitting between her mother and Georgia, a handful of rosettes spread across her lap.

  Sophie sounded uninterested but Georgia knew that she wasn’t being offhand. She just wasn’t passionate about the looking-after part of being around horses, in the way that Georgia was. Sophie was going off to university next year, and at the moment her friends and her social life were probably more important to her than winning at the show.

  Sophie finally pocketed her phone and grinned at Georgia. “I bet you’ll be glad to see your bed tonight, eh, G?”

  “You can say that again!” Georgia laughed. She was tired, but it was the best kind of tired. There was nothing she loved more than being at the Haydens’ yard and watching Sophie ride Wilson. Sophie was seventeen, three years older than Georgia, and she was already an amazing rider. Georgia hoped that one day she’d be as good.

  “Well, I think you both did really well today,” Melanie grinned. “A great team effort!”

  Georgia smiled as she gazed out of the window, passing villages and fields. Today had been magical – the Wadebridge Show: a whole day to totally lose herself in horses. Georgia had wanted it to last for ever – not least because she knew that when she got home, she’d be thrown back into the reality of school and revision. Her end-of-year exams started tomorrow, and she hadn’t done nearly enough work for them. “So how long will it take to get back?” she asked Melanie, biting down thoughtfully on her bottom lip.

  “Probably a good couple of hours in this traffic,” Melanie answered.

  Georgia nodded. She’d thought as much. And once they were at the yard she’d have to help Sophie put Wilson to bed, unpack the lorry and do all the general tidying up before she could even think about any revision. Still, it was worth it. Helping out at the Haydens’ was the closest that Georgia would get to ever owning her own pony and she relished every moment of it. Money had been tight in the Black household ever since her dad had left years ago and there was no way that her mum could afford the cost of expensive riding lessons, let alone the upkeep of a horse. If it hadn’t been for all the riding that Melanie let her do in exchange for helping out at the yard, the only contact Georgia would get with ponies would be in her dreams!

  Georgia turned to speak to Sophie, but the older girl’s mobile had beeped and she was deep into her texting again.

  Georgia smiled to herself. Oh, to live in Sophie’s world where no matter what, the ponies would always be there…

  Two hours later, and the horse lorry was turning up the drive to the Haydens’ house. Redgrove Farm was a large modern building with stables attached, and fields and paddocks that stretched for as far as the eye could see. As the lorry drew to a halt in the yard, a tall, dark-haired man opened the front door.

  “So, how did it go?” Simon Hayden asked.

  “It was great, Dad,” said Sophie, jumping down and pushing past him, nudging him affectionately as she went.

  Sophie’s dad rolled his eyes and gave Georgia a long-suffering grin as she got out of the horse lorry.

  “Hey, hon,” Melanie yawned, waving at her husband. Three noisy terriers yapped at her feet. “Get down, boys. Down!”

  Georgia stretched – her arms and legs were stiff and aching. It was a lovely warm evening, the heat from the day still hanging in the air.

  “Come on, Wilson, easy does it.” Melanie soothed the bay gelding as she pulled down the ramp and led him into the yard. “Do you mind taking over, Georgia?” she asked, having glanced around for Sophie.

  “Sure,” said Georgia, taking the lead rope. “Come on, Wilson.”

  Once the thoroughbred cross was settled in his stable, Georgia ran over to a nearby barn to fetch a hay net. After giving him a final brush-down and checking he was fed and watered, she turned him out into the field for the night. She took off his head collar and put her arms around his neck, breathing in the gorgeous scent of horse mixed with citronella shampoo. “Off you go, boy,” she murmured, patting his hindquarters.

  Callie, Sophie’s old pony, trotted eagerly over to join Wilson.

  “Hello, you,” smiled Georgia, giving the mousey dun pony a kiss on her nose.

  Callie had been a champion pony in her time but she’d recently been retired. Georgia adored the little Exmoor pony that she’d learned to ride on.

  Melanie and Georgia’s mum were old friends, and after Lucy Black’s husband left, she thought taking her daughter over to Redgrove would be a good distraction. Georgia had immediately loved the ponies and as soon as her mum thought she was old enough, Melanie had started to lead her round the paddock on Callie. And the rest was history! Redgrove had quickly become a home-from-home for Georgia.

  “You look very thoughtful.” Melanie came up behind Georgia, breaking the spell.

  “Oh,” Georgia said with a smile. “I was just remembering the first time you put me on Callie.”

  Melanie patted her on the arm affectionately. “That seems like yesterday!” She smiled warmly. “I can drop you home if you like.”

  “Really? That would be great, thanks,” said Georgia. “You’ve remembered that I can’t come up here after school this coming week, haven’t you? Exams.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Melanie. “What will we do without you?”

  “You’ll manage just fine.” Georgia grinned, feeling secretly pleased by Melanie’s words.

  “When the exams are over you’ll have Wilson all to yourself, you know,” Melanie continued.

  “Really?” Georgia was surprised.

  “Yes,” said Melanie. “Just for a few days during the first week of the holidays. Sophie’s got a job at a local summer camp. So you can exercise him every day if you want to.”

  “If I want to!” cried Georgia, rushing over to give Melanie a massive hug. “I can’t wait!”

  Melanie smiled. “Simon,” she called over her shoulder to her husband. “I’m just going to drop Georgia back.” She pulled out the car keys from her pocket and walked over to a shiny new four-by-four that was parked in the yard.

  Georgia sighed. Oh, to live like the Haydens. Not only did they have the most amazing stables for their horses, but their grounds had a swimming pool and a tennis court too. Still, they worked hard for their lifestyle and were very down-to-earth and friendly.

  As the four-by-four splattered down the lane, Georgia thought about home. What would her mum be up to at that moment? Probably still painting, as she was busy with an
important commission. Georgia’s mum was an artist and worked every possible hour to make ends meet. When Georgia had left early that morning for the show, she was up and already absorbed in her latest picture.

  The four-by-four turned the corner at the end of the bumpy lane and on to the main road, its headlights lighting up the twilight. After about a mile, they pulled up outside a cottage.

  “Thanks, Melanie,” said Georgia as she jumped out of the car. She gave her mum’s friend a wave before turning to walk up the path.

  The house was quiet when Georgia opened the front door. As she entered the kitchen she could just about hear the faint sound of the radio coming from the shed at the end of the garden where her mother worked.

  Dumping her stuff on the kitchen table, Georgia ran over the small lawn. Pip, her faithful black and white spaniel who had been dozing in the last of the evening sunshine, sprang up to greet her, her tail thumping.

  “Hi, Mum,” she called, poking her head round the door of the shed.

  “Oh, hello, sweetheart.” Georgia’s mother looked up. “I must have lost track of the time.” She pushed back a stray piece of hair that had fallen across her face and smoothed her paint-splattered apron. “Have you had a good day?”

  “Yes, great, thanks.” Georgia bent down to give her mum a kiss. “Have you eaten?”

  “Just a sandwich,” her mother answered. “I grabbed one earlier. What about you?”

  “I had something at the show,” said Georgia.

  “So? How did they do?” her mum asked.

  “Two firsts and three seconds.” Georgia grinned.

  “Fantastic!” her mum enthused. “But you look shattered, love. It’s bed for you now. You need an early night for school tomorrow.”