Fortune and the Golden Trophy (12 page)

Issie sprinted across the lawn. She was so scared her legs felt like rubber, quivering beneath her. She knew the men wouldn’t be far behind. It would only take them a minute, maybe less, to walk the length of the clubhouse hallway to the front door. She and Mystic had to get out of here before Gordon Cheeseman and Oliver Tucker had the chance to open it.

As she approached the grey pony she realised there was no time to find a mounting block. Instead, she decided to do something she had never done before. In desperation, she kept running as fast as she could. She didn’t slow down as she got closer; instead, she paced her strides and swung her arms like a gymnast approaching a vaulting horse. She was about a metre away from Mystic
when she suddenly flung herself into the air, grabbing at his mane with both hands, hauling herself up on to his back.

She leapt with such force that she managed to get her right leg up and over Mystic’s rump. Now, straining with both arms, she pulled herself up so that she was on his back. She had done it! She had vaulted on! Mystic tried to keep still while Issie scrambled her way up until she was safely on and ready to go.

But where were they going to go? Gordon Cheeseman would be stepping outside any moment now, and if Issie cantered back up the driveway, she would have to ride right past the front door of the clubhouse. Her only choice was to turn Mystic in the opposite direction and ride him across the golf-club grounds!

“C’mon,” she clucked the grey pony on, “let’s go.”

Issie could see a small grove of conifer trees just beyond the first tee and she headed straight for them, leaning low over Mystic’s wither and urging him into a gallop. They made it to the trees just in time. If Gordon Cheeseman had looked in that direction as he came out on to the steps of the clubhouse, he might just have caught a glimpse of Mystic’s silvery tail as he slipped
behind the trees. But by the time he did look their way, Issie and Mystic disappeared.

“Do you see anything?” Oliver Tucker came out on to the steps to join Gordon Cheeseman who was straining his eyes, staring into the blackness.

“No.” The golf-club manager shook his head. “There’s no one there. Must have been a horse over at the pony club—the sound really travels around here at night.”

“Right!” said Oliver Tucker looking at his watch, clearly losing interest in the whole matter. “Anyway, it’s late. I’d better be going.” He held the blueprints of his luxury apartments rolled up in one hand and he extended the other for Gordon Cheeseman to shake. “We’ll have those drinks another time if you don’t mind, Gordon.”

“What? Oh, yes, of course…” Gordon Cheeseman was still staring distractedly out into the night. “It’s so queer though. I could have sworn I heard a horse right outside the window.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, Gordon,” said Oliver Tucker as he climbed into his Ferrari and threw the blueprints on to the passenger seat. “Let’s have that drink next month on the fifteenth, shall we? That’s the
date that I’m meeting my financiers here at the golf club to sign off on the deal.”

“Top stuff!” Gordon Cheeseman said, waving goodbye. “See you then.”

Issie stayed behind the trees as they said their farewells. She didn’t move a muscle as she watched the golf-club manager go back inside and switch off the lights, then lock the front door and get into his own car. It wasn’t until well after Gordon Cheeseman had driven off into the night that she finally emerged from behind the conifers, still shaking with the shock of her narrow escape. She waited another few minutes until she was certain that the men had really gone and weren’t coming back before she rode Mystic out again to head home.

“Well done, Mystic.” She patted the grey pony beneath her. “You saved me back there, boy.”

Now that she knew what was going on, Issie couldn’t believe that she had actually doubted Mystic when he had refused to turn in at the pony club. She didn’t realise what his real mission was and she had been looking for trouble in the wrong place. But the truth they’d uncovered tonight was much worse than she could have ever imagined.

“Oh, Mystic,” she breathed softly to her pony. “What are we going to do?”

It was clear to her now, even if it wasn’t obvious to that fool Gordon Cheeseman, that Oliver Tucker was behind the vandalism. He was the one who had cut the fence, and he was the one who had dumped dung on the golf-club steps. The property developer was deliberately sabotaging Chevalier Point Pony Club, determined to get his hands on its land for his own selfish, money-grubbing purposes. Gordon Cheeseman was just a puppet in his game, and the golf-club manager was too vain to realise it. The only ones who knew the truth right now were Issie and Mystic. And they couldn’t stop Oliver Tucker alone.

Issie’s first thought was that she should tell her mum what Natasha’s dad was planning. But on the ride home she discounted that notion pretty quickly. Ever since she had got back from Spain her mum had been worrying about her. If she knew that Issie had skipped doing her homework and had ridden down the main road to the pony club by herself at night, Issie would never hear the end of it. But how else could she explain overhearing the
conversation between the two men? That ruled out telling Avery too. He would be duty-bound to tell her mother—which just led to exactly the same problem.

Issie still didn’t know what to do when she woke up the next morning and so she didn’t say anything at breakfast. Instead, she wolfed down her toast and biked off to school. It was Monday and that meant Stella and Kate would both be in her first class at nine. That would give her the chance to tell her friends what she’d found out.

Well, not the whole story of course—they didn’t know about Mystic. But Issie just told them that she’d biked up to the club to check on the horses, happened to notice the lights on at the golf club and had gone to check it out. Stella and Kate didn’t question this at all—they were too busy being totally gobsmacked by the news that Mr Tucker was trying to sabotage the pony club.

“You mean he convinced everyone that we needed to move to the River Paddock just so he could take over the lease on the land and build some luxury development?” Kate shook her head in disbelief.

“Exactly!” Issie said. “Remember that first rally day when he started up about the golf balls and how unsafe the club grounds are? I’m sure he planted those balls
himself. And that night we saw him with the measuring wheel? He must have been pacing out where the apartments would be built. And I’m positive that he cut the fence and dumped the dung on Gordon Cheeseman’s steps. He’s been playing us off against the golf club, trying to convince them that we’re bad neighbours. He’s made sure Gordon Cheeseman will support him in case there’s any reluctance from the club members when we quit the lease next month.”

“But why would he do all this? What’s in it for him?” Stella said.

“Oh, duh, Stella!” said Kate. “Money of course! Oliver Tucker is a property developer. He makes his cash from building apartments—and the pony club is on prime land right next to a luxury golf course. We’ve been there so long, no one’s noticed that land must be worth a bomb in today’s market.”

Issie nodded. “It must have been Mr Tucker’s plan all along when he became president. Why else would he suddenly be interested in Natasha and her horses?”

“So what do we do now?” asked Kate.

“We call the police!” Stella said. “Issie, you have to tell them everything.”

“Tell them what?” said Issie. “Property development
isn’t a crime. If the pony club chooses not to renew that lease, there’s nothing illegal about Mr Tucker making a bid for it. And we can’t prove any of the stuff about the fence cutting and horse dung.”

“So he’s going to get away with it?” Stella couldn’t believe her ears.

“No,” Issie said. “I didn’t say that. If we can convince the pony-club committee to throw out his plans and refuse to move the club then there’s nothing he can do.”

“But remember,” Issie continued, “Mr Tucker is really good at talking his way out of stuff. Plus he’s the adult—so they’ll never believe us if we don’t have proof.”

“So what do we do then?” asked Stella.

“We get our hands on the plans,” Issie said. “The ones that I saw him show Mr Cheeseman. If the club committee saw those blueprints then they’d know that Oliver Tucker has been intending to take over the land and make money from it right from the start.”

“So how do we get our hands on them?”

Issie shook her head. “I don’t know,’ she admitted. “All I know is that Mr Tucker’s having his big meeting with his financial backers at the golf course next month to seal the deal.”

“Then we need to figure out a way to get our hands
on the blueprints before then,” Stella said.

“Yeah, right.” Kate rolled her eyes. “What are we going to do? Break into his safe? Who are you, Kim Possible?”

Stella shot her a sulky look. “I just want to save the pony club.”

“We all want to save the pony club,” Issie said, “and we’ll think of something.”

“We’ll meet up after school,” said Stella. “We can talk about it then.”

Aidan picked Issie and the others up after school and she told him the whole story as they drove to the pony club.

“We need those blueprints as proof,” Aidan said. “Are you sure Mr Tucker didn’t leave them at the golf club?”

Issie shook her head. “I saw him put them in his Ferrari.”

“Maybe they’re still in the car?” Stella said. “He probably keeps them with him for meetings.”

“We need to get a look inside that Ferrari and find out,” Aidan agreed.

“The next rally day is two weeks away,” said Issie. “It’ll have to be then.”

“And what do we do now?” Stella asked.

“We wait and we keep our eyes open. Mr Tucker is bound to try some more sabotage,” said Kate.

Issie disagreed. “I don’t think he’ll do anything else. He’s already convinced the pony-club parents that the club grounds are unsafe, and now he’s got Gordon Cheeseman to sign his papers too. He doesn’t need to pull any more stunts. He’ll probably lay low until his meeting on the fifteenth with his financial backers.”

“The fifteenth?” Kate said.

“Yeah. That was the date he told Gordon Cheeseman. That’s when the deal is going to happen. Why?”

“There’s something about that date that sounds very familiar,” said Kate.

“It should sound familiar,” Stella replied. “It’s been in my diary for months.”

Everyone looked blank.

“Don’t you remember?” Stella was exasperated. “The fifteenth is the Open Gymkhana—the day we’re competing for the Tucker Trophy!”

For the first time ever at a pony-club rally, Issie was actually pleased to see Natasha Tucker. Well, not exactly pleased, but she had been worried that Natasha wouldn’t come today. It was the last club day before the gymkhana and that meant it was their last chance to get their hands on Mr Tucker’s blueprints.

As the Tuckers’ silver and blue horse truck drove in through the gates, Issie’s sense of relief was short-lived. “The blueprints won’t be in the horse truck,” Stella pointed out. “Mr Tucker put them in his car.”

“Look!” Kate said, pointing over at the red Ferrari that had just driven up beside the truck. “Nothing to worry about. He’s here as well!”

As Mrs Tucker helped Natasha unload her horse from
the truck Mr Tucker, dressed in a suit as usual and wearing sunglasses pushed up on top of his head, made calls on his mobile phone. He was striding about as he spoke, his voice booming across the pony-club paddocks as he barked orders at whoever was on the other end of the line. Oliver Tucker continued talking on the phone as he strode off towards the clubroom.

“Do you think the blueprints are still in the car?” Stella asked.

“Only one way to find out,” said Issie. She gave her two friends a grin over her shoulder as she mounted up on Fortune. “Wish me luck!”

Being on horseback worked to Issie’s advantage. As she came closer to the red Ferrari she had a good view into the convertible. She tried to look casual as she rode right up and peered into the passenger seat. There was nothing there. Perhaps the plans were in the boot?

Issie slid down off Fortune and put one hand on the boot of the Ferrari. She tried to find the push-button lock, but she couldn’t see it anywhere. She was puzzling over this when a voice right beside her startled her.

“What are you doing?” Natasha Tucker asked icily.

“Ummm, I was just looking at the car,” Issie said.

“Well, I wouldn’t get too close if I were you,” Natasha
said. “Daddy’s very protective of his Ferrari.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing,” Issie said.

“He used to drive a Lamborghini,” said Natasha airily, “but he likes the Ferrari better.” She had a cruel smile on her face as she added casually, “What sort of car does your father drive?”

“My dad?” Issie said.

“Yes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him here at the pony club, have I?”

Issie looked at the smug expression on Natasha’s face. The snooty blonde knew only too well that Issie’s mum and dad had split up a long time ago and Mr Brown was no longer around. He had moved out and left Chevalier Point when Issie was nine and she had hardly seen him since. Issie was OK about it. She’d got used to the fact that her dad wasn’t there. Even so, her friends all knew better than to bring it up. But then Natasha wasn’t a friend, was she?

As Natasha stood there smirking something in Issie snapped. At least Issie’s dad wasn’t trying to do dodgy property deals that would ruin the Chevalier Point Pony Club! Did Natasha even know what her father was really up to? “Your dad’s been here a lot lately, hasn’t he?” Issie shot back.

Natasha stiffened. “Well, he is the club president.”

“Yes, he is, isn’t he?” said Issie. “Which is kind of strange, don’t you think, since he never, ever turned up to watch you ride before, and now suddenly he’s here all the time.”

Natasha glared back at Issie. “My dad’s a very busy man.”

“Oh, I know,” said Issie. “He’s busy with midnight meetings and secret business deals to make money by destroying the pony club!”

“What are you on about?” Natasha looked upset. “My dad is a property developer. He doesn’t do secret deals.”

“So he’s told you all about his plan to get rid of the pony club and build luxury, country-club apartments?” Issie asked.

Natasha, for once, was dumbstruck.

“So he hasn’t told you?” said Issie. “Well, why don’t you ask him? He’s—” Issie was about to continue when suddenly, Mr Tucker arrived back from the clubroom.

Oliver Tucker looked at Issie standing there holding Fortune’s reins. “Hello there, are you a friend of Natasha’s?” he asked.

“Not really,” Issie said without thinking.

“Dad?” Natasha looked upset. “Isadora’s been saying
things about you getting rid of the pony club so that you can build apartments here!”

The smile suddenly disappeared from Oliver Tucker’s face. He swung around to face Issie, and his eyes turned cold and black.

“Now, Isadora,” he said through clenched teeth, the words coming out with deliberate care. “Where on earth would you hear a rumour like that?”

“Ummm…” Issie was getting nervous. She looked around. “I don’t remember…”

Mr Tucker took a deep breath and forced a shark-like smile back on to his face once more.

“I don’t know what you’ve been hearing, young lady,” he said in a patronising tone as if he were talking to a five-year-old, “but you’ve got the wrong end of the stick. Business deals are very complicated and you probably wouldn’t understand, but anything I’m doing will only be for the very best. Remember, it’s not me who wants to move the pony club to the River Paddock—the committee makes the final decision. I’m just doing their bidding!”

Mr Tucker grinned at her again and Issie felt herself subconsciously stepping back to get away from him.

“I’d better get going,” Issie said. “The rally is about to start.”

“Nice to meet you, Isadora,” Oliver Tucker said. “A word of warning though. Be careful about repeating rumours like that one. You wouldn’t want to end up in trouble by saying the wrong thing now, would you?”

As he said this the charming smile slipped a bit again, and Issie caught a glimpse of the real Oliver Tucker, all steely and menacing. Was he threatening her? She wasn’t sure, but suddenly Issie desperately wanted to get away from him.

She stumbled backwards and yanked on Fortune’s reins so hard that the piebald almost leapt on top of her as she wheeled him around. “See you later,” she managed to stammer. As she walked her pony away she could feel Oliver Tucker’s eyes boring holes in her back. Her heart was beating like a drum as she led Fortune back to Avery’s horse truck to rejoin the others.

Two facts had suddenly become crystal clear. The first was that Oliver Tucker was now wise to the fact that Issie knew about his plan. That meant she would have to be super-careful from now on—he would be watching her. The second thing was that Natasha Tucker knew absolutely nothing about her father’s schemes. She couldn’t possibly have been faking that shocked expression when Issie told her about the secret meeting
—she wasn’t a good enough actress.

“Well, we know what’s really going on,” Stella said when Issie met them back at the truck, “but we still have no proof.”

“Are you sure the blueprints weren’t in the car?” asked Kate.

“Not entirely,” Issie admitted. “I tried to open the boot to have a look, but there was no handle!”

“Oh, you didn’t!” Aidan rolled his eyes at her. “Issie, Ferraris don’t have boots—the engine is in the back!”

Issie felt silly. “No wonder there wasn’t a handle.”

“Well, what’s in the front if the engine is in the back?” Stella asked.

“There’s usually some storage space up front under the bonnet,” said Aidan.

“So maybe he keeps the blueprints in there?” Kate suggested.

“Too late to look now,” Issie sighed. “Natasha knows something is up and besides, the rally is about to start.”

“You guys go and ride, and leave the blueprints to me,” Aidan said confidently.

Everyone turned to stare at him. “Why you?” Stella pouted.

“Come on!” Aidan reasoned. “I’ve got a better chance than the rest of you. Natasha doesn’t have the knives out for me—she barely knows who I am.” They all agreed that this was true.

“Meanwhile,” Issie said, “we’re supposed to be focusing on training to win that Tucker Trophy.”

Issie looked serious. “I can’t stand the thought of losing the pony-club grounds and the trophy to Natasha as well!”

“Whoa, Issie!” Kate said with a grin. “Priority check! What’s more important? The future of the pony club or taking home some silly trophy?”

Issie knew that Kate had a point. Now they knew Oliver Tucker’s real purpose here at the pony club, the Tucker Trophy shouldn’t have mattered to them any more. Yet she couldn’t help it. Stuck-up Tucker had already been so obnoxious about the trophy, Issie couldn’t bear the idea of her gloating for a whole year. There was no way she was going to let that bratty blonde take the golden horse home without a fight.

Natasha certainly looked like the hot favourite to win the trophy. Romeo was such a beautiful horse with incredibly floaty paces; he stood out from the rest as they rode their workout that morning. The rally day had flown
by without mishap and before they knew it, Avery was asking his senior riders to line up next to the Open Hunter course for the end of the day’s lesson.

“Since this is our last training session before the gymkhana,” he told them, “I thought I’d give you the chance to let me know what you want to do. Is there anything that you really need to practise? Do any of you have a ‘bogey fence’, a jump that’s giving you problems?” Issie glanced over at the wire jump. She hadn’t had the guts to try it again since that day with Avery and looking at the jump now she felt her heart thumping hard in her chest, her breath quickening. “Issie?” Avery said. “Do you have a jump you’d like to have one more go at?”

She knew at that moment that she should tell Avery. But the idea of jumping the wire made her feel sick. She couldn’t face the thought of failing all over again in front of everyone.

“No,” Issie lied, “I’m not having any problems.”

Avery looked intently at her. “OK then. If there’s nothing else anyone wants to work on, let’s finish up for the day. You can all go back to your horse trucks and untack.”

Back at the horse truck the girls had untacked and rugged the ponies up ready to leave when they noticed that Aidan wasn’t there.

“Where is he?” Stella sighed. “I want to go.”

Aidan, as it turned out, was where he’d told the others he would be. He was making one final bid to get his hands on the blueprints.

As the riders headed back to their trucks he’d walked straight up to Natasha and started chatting. Aidan told her that he was very interested in sports cars and then asked her very nicely if she would show him the Ferrari. Natasha had been surprisingly keen on the idea and by the time Issie and the others spotted him, Aidan was actually sitting in the front seat with Natasha in the passenger seat next to him.

“What is he doing?” Stella was amazed.

“Never mind him!” Issie snapped. “What is she doing?”

Natasha was behaving in a most un-Natasha-like manner. She was gazing intently at Aidan and twiddling with her blonde plaits. There was something very weird about her. Issie couldn’t put her finger on it at first, and then she realised what it was. Natasha was smiling. Not just a bit—she was giggling and hanging off Aidan’s every
word as if he was saying the most hilarious things she had ever heard. Issie watched as Aidan said something else to Natasha and she burst into giggles again.

Then Natasha pressed a button on the dashboard and the bonnet popped open. They both promptly got out of the car and Natasha helped Aidan to open the bonnet and look inside. Then Aidan slammed it shut again and there was some more unbearably flirty plait-twiddling and silly giggling before he finally said goodbye and walked away.

“Well,” he told the others as he made it back to Avery’s truck, “no luck I’m afraid. The plans aren’t in the car.”

“Right!” Issie said. “Well, now that you’ve finished keeping us all waiting for nothing, we can finally get going. Let’s get these horses loaded, shall we?” She stomped off and grabbed Jasper’s lead rope. She was furious! As if it wasn’t bad enough that Stuck-up Tucker always wanted Issie’s horses, now she was trying to steal Aidan too!

Aidan, meanwhile, couldn’t figure out why Issie suddenly seemed to be in such a dark mood with him. As they sat in the horse truck cab together on the way back to Winterflood Farm he finally came out with it and asked her what was wrong.

“What’s wrong?” Issie said. “I saw the way Natasha was flirting with you—giggling at everything you said!”

Aidan gave Issie a lopsided grin and pushed his long dark fringe back out of his eyes. “She was flirting with me? Really?”

Issie groaned. “As if you didn’t notice!”

“I didn’t!” Aidan insisted. “Besides, even if she was flirting with me, I wasn’t flirting with her. I would never do that. You know how I feel about you, Issie. You’re my girl.”

“Am I?” Issie said. She was shaking now, as if all the pent-up emotion and worry that she’d been feeling lately was finally finding its way out of her.

“Issie,” said Aidan softly, “what’s up? You’re not usually like this.”

“How would you know what I’m usually like?” Issie said. “Aidan, I hardly ever see you. I mean, I know you’ve brought the horses here so you can be with me, but you can’t stay for ever, can you? I live here in Chevalier Point and you’ll go back to Gisborne soon. How are we ever going to see each other then?”

Issie had been hoping at this moment that Aidan would put his arms around her and reassure her that it was all going to be OK. But instead, he went quiet and pushed his
hair back out of his eyes to reveal a worried frown.