For Clemmie and Poppet
First published in the UK in 2019 by Nosy Crow Ltd The Crow’s Nest, 14 Baden Place Crosby Row, London SE1 1YW www.nosycrow.com ISBN: 978 178800 5432 Nosy Crow and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Nosy Crow Ltd Text © Olivia Tuffin 2019 Pony photographs © Matthew Bishop Photography 2019 The right of Olivia Tuffin to be identified as the author has been asserted. All rights reserved This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of Nosy Crow Ltd. A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. Printed and bound in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, Elcograf S.p.A. Typeset by Tiger Media Papers used by Nosy Crow are made from wood grown in sustainable forests. 135798642
PROLOGUE The
oxer was coming up now, looming above
Alice and her little red pony, higher than the tallest of tower blocks, more imposing than the biggest mountain. Alice felt her pony falter, his stride hesitant as she urged him on with her legs, her voice encouraging him to dig deep, to soar the jump, to do it for her. Time was running out, their riding days that had once stretched
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ahead of them towards an endless horizon were now numbered, as Alice was reminded when she had adjusted the stirrups once again that morning. She was growing taller, and life was moving fast. So they had to make the most of what was left and push themselves further than ever before. Secret would do whatever she asked, she knew that. As the Welsh pony made the almost impossible leap, Alice felt his big heart, felt his willingness. But it was wrong, all wrong, and as though in slow motion his body twisted, his limbs flailing as the red and white poles crashed and scattered beneath him. Alice was falling, and her red pony was falling, and soon everything was going black, and all Alice could see was her pony’s face and another pony, a sweet palomino who’d gone before, and her ears were ringing from the high-pitched screams‌
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Chapter 1 Sitting
bolt upright in bed, Alice felt her heart
hammering against her ribs, her T-shirt drenched in sweat. For a few seconds she breathed in and out, trying to control her shaking. It was a dream, just an awful dream. She was still at home at Park Farm, and Secret was just a few metres away outside in his stable, a light rug keeping off the early-autumn chill.
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Alice blearily focused on her phone. It was two a.m., but that didn’t matter. She needed to see her pony. Pulling on a pair of tracksuit bottoms that had earlier been discarded on her chair, she threw on a hoody and slipped out of her room, bare feet searching for her wellies on the boot rack, next to which Poppy, her family’s elderly dog, thumped her tail, not bothering to move from the warmth of her basket. Her eyes were cloudy with cataracts and her muzzle was grey. Alice couldn’t remember life without her. Reaching down, she hugged the dog. “Don’t wake Mum and Dad,” she whispered. “Love you, Pops.” Then, quietly turning the key in the door, Alice crept out into the yard where the moon was bathing the cobbles in a silvery light. The ponies were quite used to Alice’s late-night visits, particularly in recent weeks. A few blinked at her,
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but most stayed asleep, either standing at the back of their stables resting a leg, or lying down in the deep shavings beds Alice and Mia had prepared earlier. The show season was drawing to a close so the yard was quieter than usual, the ponies Alice’s mum had in for the summer returning to their owners for the winter. Briefly patting Ella, Secret’s best friend in the stable next to him, Alice gave a sigh of relief as Secret popped his head over the door, alerted by his mistress’s footsteps. “Shhh,” Alice smiled, putting a finger to her lips. “You know the rules.” Opening the stable door, Alice let herself in and wrapped her arms round Secret’s strong red neck, his coat newly velvet after a recent clip, his scarlet mane silken against her cheeks as she closed her eyes. Secret was OK. The dreams had been happening for a few weeks now, ever since her stay at Devon Jenkins’ yard had
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been finalised. Devon was a top showjumper, and Alice and another young rider would be staying at the yard for a few days before trying out for the British pony team, who wanted to take a team of young amateur riders to a competition. Although the competition was classed as a friendly, the competitors would still get to wear the Union Jack on their saddlecloths, and it would be a huge step up in the world of showjumping. If Alice made the team her reputation would be cemented. She would be able to pursue her showjumping dreams on other horses as she grew older. It was an honour to be selected to try out and Alice couldn’t wait. Alice and her Welsh pony Secret had made quite a name for themselves over the last couple of years. Initially, Alice’s mum had hoped Alice would show the red pony in flat ridden mountain and moorland classes, but he’d hated the ring as much as Alice had. His talent, and his love, was
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jumping, just like Alice. Alice still helped her mum with the day-to day running of the show yard, and the recent addition of Mia, who rode the ponies for Josephine, had freed up a lot of her time, meaning Alice could concentrate more on her jumping. The summer had been busy and successful, starting with a win at Hickstead in the pony club showjumping, where Mia had ended up riding Secret, then on to bigger and bigger shows around the country. Secret was becoming unstoppable. His ability to cut corners no other rider would dare to attempt, his huge scope and his willingness to jump the moon for Alice meant it was very rare they didn’t return from shows with a red rosette. So far Alice hadn’t yet found Secret’s limit. But her bad dreams were getting worse and more frequent, and she wondered what they meant. “It’s probably just nerves,” Finn, Alice’s best
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friend, had reassured her during one of their long phone calls. “Getting the opportunity to try out for the British team is a massive deal, even a friendly, but no more so than jumping Olympia or Hickstead.” Finn had been in Spain for the past few months, training as part of an equestrian stunt team who put on daring shows throughout the summer and provided horses for film and television work. It was a world away from Alice’s life – showjumping, yard work, school – but she loved their regular chats. “I guess,” she’d replied. “You’re probably right.” But it felt like more than that somehow. Alice couldn’t explain it. She was aware her years were limited with Secret, that she’d grow too tall for him at some point, but she couldn’t bear it. They were at their peak right now, and so this was the biggest chance they were going to get, and Alice
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knew it might be their only chance. She wanted to succeed more than anything she’d ever wanted before. “I’ll miss you!” Mia said, hugging Alice tightly. Alice felt a lump rising in her throat. Park Farm was so cosy, so familiar, the hanging baskets around the immaculate yard providing a splash of colour, the duck-egg blue stable doors and the worn cobbles smoothed away by decades of ponies clip-clopping over them. It was early and the sun was just starting to rise on the horizon, so all the yard lights were on and Fergus, her mum’s long-term groom, was whistling cheerfully as he pushed a wheelbarrow full of hay round to each stable. With two ponies qualified for the Horse of the Year Show, including Alice’s mum’s beloved Shetland pony Porridge, who Mia rode, there was plenty of work to be done. And suddenly, despite
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her excitement about heading off to Devon’s yard, Alice’s tummy started to twist into knots. She could smell the breakfast her dad was cooking in the big kitchen where rosettes and horse photos filled every space and where Poppy was no doubt lying at his feet, enjoying the warmth and hoping for a treat. Alice loved everything about Park Farm. It was home. Trying to smile, she hugged Mia back. “It’s only a week,” she said. “I’ll be back before you know it.” Mia pushed her shiny black braids back from her face, looking younger than her eleven years. “I’ll help your mum as much as I can,” she said. “You’re coming back on Thursday, though, aren’t you?” Alice nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Of course I’ll be back. So I’ll see you then.” It was her dad’s birthday on Thursday and
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her mum had organised a party in the old hay barn. Josephine had thrown herself into the preparations with gusto and everyone was really looking forward to it. Mia and her family, Fergus and Angus, Finn’s dad, were among the guests. When the dates of Alice’s training week had come up, she’d been really worried about missing the party. But then Devon had agreed to meet her mum halfway, so Alice could go to the party and return for training the next morning. “It’s important to have balance,” Devon had said cheerfully on the phone as Alice had thanked her. “It’s no problem at all.” “OK,” Mia smiled. “But text me, won’t you? And can I ring you? With Porridge going to HOYS I’ll need to chat! And I want to tell you how I get along with Lacey.” Lacey was a very pretty Welsh mountain pony that Josephine had in for training. Mia was to be
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her sole rider, and she was really excited about it. Alice knew it meant a lot to her to prove how much she had come on as a rider. She’d only been helping out at Park Farm for a few months but to Alice it felt like she’d been there forever! Alice smiled back at Mia, giving her another hug. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll be training hard, but I’m sure there’ll be downtime. Text me as much as you want.” With the trials date looming, when the British team would be selected, it was going to be an intensive week, far more so than anything Alice had done so far with Angus, her regular showjumping instructor. Angus had been thrilled at the news that Devon was going to coach Alice in preparation for the pony trials. “This is a massive step up from pony club,” he’d said at the end of their last lesson. “It’s always good to have fresh ideas, a different
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approach. Devon’s done so well and I think this is going to be really great for you. And it will be helpful to train alongside someone at the same level too. And I’ll be there on the day of the trials!” He’d smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. You’ll have stiff competition but we all believe in you. I’m sure we’ve probably jumped against Cora in the past. Her dad was well known back in the day. She’s doing very well. Her siblings too; although –” he then frowned as if trying to recall something – “although only her brother still competes, as far as I know.” Cora Davies was the girl from the northern circuit who was also heading to Devon’s yard. She had featured in Horse & Hound with her gorgeous mare Bluebell, and had even won the same class as Alice at Olympia the year before her. Although they were both trying out for the same place in the British team – and there’d be competition
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ahead for whoever made it on to the team – Alice couldn’t wait to meet her and she hoped they could become friends and bounce ideas off each other. It might help to break up the intensity of the week, if both girls were in it together. A whicker next to her brought her back to the present, and, turning, Alice smiled at Secret in his Olympia winners’ rug and at her mum, who was emerging from the house with a thermos cup of coffee ready for the journey ahead. Devon’s yard was quite close to the famous Hickstead site, and Alice knew that she regularly hacked her horses around the cliffs and beaches of the south coast. Alice often pored over the photos on social media of Devon and her beautiful horses galloping on the sand. “Ready to go?” Josephine opened the door to the big horsebox, ready to load the last of Secret’s gear, and, feeling
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a rush of homesickness, Alice ran back inside the house to give her dad one more hug. “You’ll be great, love,” he said, squeezing her tightly. “Good luck at the show.” Alice smiled to herself. It was a bit more than a show. It was a trial for the British pony team! But she loved that her dad didn’t differentiate between the local gymkhana and the British trials. He was just proud of her, however she did. “Thanks, Dad,” she said, “but I’ll see you before that, remember?” He smiled, patting her head. “Of course,” he replied, “but only if you’re sure. I know the next week is going to be very busy for you. It’s only a birthday; I’ll have one next year too.” “I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Alice hugged her dad one last time, before crouching down and hugging Poppy, who rolled on to her side, her greying tail thumping the flagstones of the kitchen
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floor. Then Alice took a deep breath, ready to go out and load Secret for the journey ahead. She had no idea what the next few days held for her and her brave red pony, but she knew this was the biggest opportunity they were ever going to get.
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