For Sale or Swap - Alyssa Brugman [12]
Blue rubbed his face against Shelby's side and all of a sudden she felt anxious. It was all happening so quickly. She hadn't really had time to think it through. Then again, she could visit him whenever she wanted. The man had said so. In the meantime she would need to settle Brat in.
'You can put him up on the truck for me,' said the man.
Shelby took Blue's lead and walked him to the bottom of the ramp.
Blue had always found a float to be a dark and scary place. It was like walking into a small black hole, and for horses, which survive by flight in wide open spaces, walking into a black hole was a completely unnatural thing to do. Blue sniffed at Shelby suspiciously.
'It's OK, little man,' she said, stroking his nose.
Blue put one foot in front of the other all the way up to the barrier at the top of the truck. He stood still while Shelby tied him to the U-bolt in the wall. She gave him another hug and kissed him on the end of his nose. 'You're a good boy, Blue.'
She hopped out of the truck and moved out of the way while the man lifted the tailgate up and, just when he did, Shelby saw Blue's anxious face as he strained against his lead, his blue eyes wide, trying to catch one more glimpse of his mistress. The door slammed shut with a hollow clang.
6 A Civil Matter
'Let me get this straight,' said Shelby's father. 'You swapped your horse.'
Shelby nodded, putting her hands over her face. 'I'm not sure that it was the right thing to do.'
'Let's call the police,' said Shelby's mother.
Her father put his hand up. 'Not just yet, Marie. We still might be able to resolve this. Tell me again from the beginning.'
After the man had driven Blue away in his big truck, Shelby had spent a little while getting Brat settled in. She made sure she had fresh water and that everything was neat and tidy in the shed. Then she sat on the ground for half an hour, watching Brat graze.
As she was sitting there, a couple of questions occurred to her. When was the last time Brat had been wormed? Had the man been rugging her? What was Brat used to eating, and how much? When had he last had her teeth looked at? She should have asked all these questions, and answered them about Blue too.
Brat seemed fine, so Shelby left her to graze. Back in her room she looked up the man's number in the magazine. The man answered after one or two rings, just as he had before. Yes, Blue was fine. He had arrived safely and was relaxed and happy. Indeed, they were good questions, but he couldn't answer them right now because he was expecting another call. Could she ring back in an hour or so? Shelby said she could and hung up.
Exactly an hour later she had rung, but there was no answer – just a computerised voice mailbox. Your call cannot be answered at present. Please leave your name and number after the tone.
Shelby had left her name and number – not once, but three times at fifteen-minute intervals. The man hadn't rung back. That's when she had decided to talk to her mum and dad.
Shelby's dad was sitting next to her on the lounge. 'I'll try again,' he said. Shelby handed him the phone and he dialled the number, pausing to refer to the ad in the magazine.
He listened for a moment and then his face blanched. He handed the phone to Shelby, and she pressed it to her ear.
The number you have dialled is not connected. Please check the number and try again.
Shelby dropped the phone and wailed. 'I've changed my mind! I just want to know where he is.'
Shelby's mum picked the handset up from the floor and punched in some numbers. 'Hello? My name is Marie Shaw and I'd like to report a stolen horse.'
Two police officers arrived at Shelby's house an hour later. Constable Bidgood was a stocky middle-aged man with a moustache, and the other was Sergeant Everard – an athletic-looking young woman with her hair in a tight bun. Shelby sat on the couch, squeezing her hands together in her lap while she told them the story from the beginning.
Constable Bidgood was taking notes in a little book rested on his knee.
'And the man's name