For Sale or Swap - Alyssa Brugman [28]
Shelby watched as Mr Protheroe stepped in, little by little, and grabbed one of the reins. Brat reared up on her hind legs. Mr Protheroe stepped to the side in a move as smooth as a pirouette, and tucked his body next to Brat's shoulder. He reached under her chin to grab hold of the other rein.
Brat dropped back down onto three legs again. Mr Protheroe tried to turn her but she resisted, jerking her head and pulling away from him. Mr Protheroe didn't fight her. He followed her along the road until she backed into the bonnet of a car. She surged forward again. Mr Protheroe twisted around and let her run, staying next to her shoulder the whole time.
Once they got to the side of the road she stopped. He stroked her neck until she was quiet, and then pulled his jumper from around his waist, throwing it over her face to cover her eyes. Brat stood still, her back legs splayed out and her sore leg tucked up tight beneath her chest.
Shelby was close now, maybe twenty metres away. Mr Protheroe glanced at her, frowned, and then looked away.
'Thank you, officer,' he called over his shoulder. Shelby could see the rain dripping from the end of his nose. The policeman moved forward to shake his hand. Mr Protheroe turned to Hayley.
'I'm assuming that you only have one horse on that float,' he said.
Hayley nodded.
'Let's load her quickly before the traffic picks up,' he said. Then he turned to Shelby and pointed at her. 'You. Get this saddle off.'
Shelby moved forward and undid the buckles on the girth. 'Thank you so much,' she murmured.
Calvin Protheroe didn't reply. He waited until she had removed the saddle and then he led Brat towards the Crooks' float.
Mrs Crook steered onto the shoulder of the road. Hayley lowered the float tailgate. Shelby, with her poxy all-purpose saddle over one arm, limped down the road and watched as Mr Protheroe loaded Brat.
The traffic started to flow past. People in the cars craned their necks, staring at her.
Once Brat was safely stowed. Hayley climbed into the car. Mr Protheroe leaned in towards Mrs Crook's window. He had his jumper loosely draped over his shoulder.
'Yes, I think that would be best,' he said, nodding. He stood up straight again and tapped the roof. 'See you again,' he said.
He turned to face Shelby and she could see the fury in his eyes.
'Where are they taking her?' she asked.
'Somewhere safe,' he replied. 'I'm sure you will receive the vet bill, and hopefully a hefty fine, in due course. You should not have horses. I'm going to make it my business to ensure you don't have this one.'
Then he turned on his heel and walked away.
Shelby stood still on the side of the road and watched as he got in his car and drove away without looking back.
13 Relief for the Mulligans
Shelby sat on the lounge in her pyjamas. Her mother had made cheese on toast while she was in the bath, but it sat, cold and rubbery, on the coffee table.
Mrs Crook had phoned to say that Brat was now dry and warm in Scamp's stable. The vet had been to check Brat's leg, and said it should mend without any problem, but she had to rest for a couple of days. Mrs Crook offered to keep Brat at the stables until she could walk soundly.
'You have to eat something,' Shelby's mother pleaded. 'I bet you haven't had anything all day.'
Shelby drew her feet up underneath her and shook her head. 'It's worse than you think,' she said.
Her mother patted her knee. 'We've had a vet bill before. We'll manage.'
Shelby tugged her sleeves down over her hands and nibbled on the hem. 'Did Mrs Crook say anything else?'
'No, why?'
Mrs Crook was a cleanliness freak and Brat had been in the rain for most of the afternoon. The first thing she would have done, after phoning the vet, was rub Brat down with a towel – Shelby was sure of it. Brat's boot polish would have rubbed off.
After cleanliness, the next thing Mrs Crook loved best was gossip. Shelby knew that even now, while she sat here exhausted, Mrs Crook would be on the phone to everybody at the stables and then everybody at Pony Club to tell