Flame and the Rebel Riders. Stacy Gregg
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not the one with the money. Cassandra Steele, you know, the millionairess? She owns the stables and most of the horses. Ginty also stables a few ‘weekend rides’ for clients with loads of money and no time. Ginty keeps their horses for them here at an exorbitant cost. It’s a total luxury—some of the clients only ride their horses once a month. Imagine having your own horse and only bothering to ride it twelve times a year!”
“Don’t the horses go bonkers if there’s no one riding them?” Issie asked.
“Oh, we ride them,” Verity said. “Ginty charges even more money for that. Penny and I exercise the horses on the owner’s behalf so that they’re kept in regular work.”
“You’re so lucky. It must be amazing, being paid to ride really fab horses every day.”
Verity looked at Issie as if she were an idiot. “The owners have high expectations. It’s up to us to make them happy,” she said flatly. “It costs a fortune to keep your horse at Dulmoth Park, but the rich ladies love it, because it’s so exclusive and Ginty treats them all like rock stars. We keep their horses fit and do everything for them. Ginty always says that her clients pay top dollar so that they can step out of their car and get straight on to their horse.”
Issie thought about all those times Natasha had turned up at rally days with Romeo immaculately groomed and plaited — quite boastful about having done none of the work herself. No doubt Penny and Verity were the ones who did it for her.
“Why is Natasha working here?” Issie asked. “She’s one of Ginty’s clients, isn’t she?”
Verity shrugged. “Her dad has some sort of money trouble. Ginty says it’s only temporary. He’s a big-deal property developer and a deal fell through. Natasha’s parents are making her work here for the holidays to cover the cost of her horse’s board, otherwise Ginty wouldn’t be able to keep stabling Romeo.”
Issie knew exactly what ‘trouble’ Mr Tucker had got himself into. In fact, Issie was the one who had uncovered his dodgy business dealings while she competed on Fortune to win the Golden Trophy! It was ironic, Issie thought, that she should end up stuck with Natasha for the school holidays—and in a strange way it was her own fault!
“Ginty still sucks up to the Tuckers because of their money,” Verity continued. “You saw the way she treated Natasha, letting her arrive late this morning. The rest of us would have been hung, drawn and quartered…” Verity stopped in mid-sentence. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking to you like this. You and Natasha both go to the same pony club, don’t you? You’re probably best friends.”
Issie gave a hollow laugh. “Hardly! Natasha can’t stand me!”
Verity looked surprised at this. “Really? I thought you were…You know, you have to be careful,” she said darkly, “you never know who your friends are around here…”
Verity looked like she was about to say something else, but Issie never found out what, because at that moment Ginty suddenly appeared beside her at the stall door.
“Come on!” the trainer said briskly. “Morning exercise is already behind schedule, we don’t have time to stand around chatting.”
“I better go get Tottie ready,” Verity said to Issie. “Check the blackboard roster to see which horse you’re working first. I’ll see you in the arena.”
Issie found the blackboard on the back of the door in the tack room. Riders’ names were listed along the top of the board with the horses they were assigned written down underneath. Issie noted with disappointment that Flame had been given to Natasha. She had been hoping that she would be the one to ride the big chestnut. Penny was down to ride Vertigo, and Verity was supposed to ride a horse called Tottenham Hotspur, which Issie figured must be Tottie’s show name. The first horse on Issie’s list was “Tokyo”. Issie searched through the saddle racks fixed to the wall and found Tokyo’s name plate with a saddle, bridle and numnah.
Tokyo’s saddle was made from warm honey-coloured leather, finished with orange stitching and a single word stamped elegantly into the flap at the front: Hermès.
Issie was almost scared to touch it. She had never seen a real Hermès saddle before — they were worth thousands and thousands of dollars. And now she was going to ride in one!
Picking Tokyo’s saddle up carefully, she carried it with the numnah over her arm and the bridle slung on her left shoulder, back out into the stable corridor. It wasn’t until she was standing there looking at the row of stalls that she realised there was a problem. The loose boxes didn’t have name plates. How was she supposed to find her horse?
Still carrying the gear, she strode down the corridor towards the end stall. Verity would be in there saddling up Tottie. She could tell Issie which stall held Tokyo.
The door to Tottie’s loose box was unlocked, so Issie pushed it open and walked straight in to see Verity standing alongside a nervous-looking dapple-grey mare. Verity was bent down over the horse’s hocks. Her right hand was gripping a hypodermic syringe.
As she held the syringe aloft, Verity’s face was tight with determination. She took aim, and then with all her strength she hammered her fist down hard, forcing the hypodermic needle deep into the upper muscle of the horse’s hind leg.
“Verity! What are you doing?” Issie cried out. But it was too late. Verity had already pushed down the plunger of the syringe and injected the contents of the hypodermic into Tottie.
With a quick yank, she pulled the needle back out again, capped the empty syringe and then she slipped it into her pocket. She let the mare go and walked over to Issie.
“Verity,” Issie said, “what was that?”
The head groom raised a finger to her lips. “Say nothing about this,” she warned. “Trust me. If you know what’s good for you, you don’t want to get involved.”
Verity’s face was stony as she pushed past Issie in the doorway. Then she turned round and added bitterly, “Welcome to Dulmoth Park, Issie. You really have no idea what you’re in for.”
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