Hot Potato (Shelby and Blue) - Alyssa Brugman [41]
'I've been going through the paperwork and some of the information seems to be incorrect,' said Mrs Edel. 'Next time you are making a payment please attach your contact details so that we can check it against our database.'
The crowd started to murmur, anticipating that Mrs Edel was almost finished.
'Please make sure that your payments are up to date,' she yelled over the top of them. 'Now, does anyone know Gwen Stefani? Is she here today? I haven't been able to find her anywhere.'
At first there was silence, and then there was a general mumbling and rumbling as those assembled talked amongst themselves. Shelby could hear little grabs of conversations.
'Isn't she the president of the Welsh Pony and Cob Society?' asked Olivia's mother. The cocker spaniel at her feet strained against his lead.
'No, you're thinking of Gladys Stephens. She was the treasurer,' replied Mr Crook.
'I know a Gwen Barton who used to have draught horses,' said Erin's mum. 'She volunteers at the school canteen on Wednesdays.'
'Maybe Stefani is her married name?' suggested the mum who had cooked the sausages.
'That name is really familiar to me,' said Mrs Crook, tapping her chin with her index finger. 'Where's Hales? She'll remember.'
'It's quite an unusual name really. How many of them can there be?' asked Miss Anita.
The rumbling got louder and louder as the different groups compared information.
'Did she say Gwen Stefani?' shrieked Hayley's friend Kim. 'No way!'
'She's famous!' yelled Monica.
Erin grabbed Shelby's hand. She was squeezing so hard that it hurt. She must have been crushing Lindsey's hand too.
Hayley Crook manoeuvred through the crowd towards them.
The crowd hit fever pitch. Girls were screaming.
'Has she been here? OMIGOD! Gwen Stefani was here!'
'Which horse is Gwen Stefani's?' one parent roared.
'Yeah! We want to see it!' Mrs Crook demanded.
Mrs Edel was banging away on the tomato sauce bottle trying to call the mob to order.
'What are we going to do?' whispered Lindsey.
'I don't know!' wailed Erin.
'Shh! Don't panic!' said Shelby.
'Are you ready to tell me what's going on yet?' Hayley asked with her hands on her hips.
'It's not Gwen Stefani's. It's our horse,' Erin blurted. 'We made up the name because we didn't want our parents to know.'
'Der,' said Hayley. 'Clint knows though, right?'
They looked at each other. 'Maybe,' admitted Lindsey.
'No way!' said Erin.
'Well, he's headed this way!' said Hayley.
Shelby could see Clint striding across the arena. With each step his boots sent a spray of sand behind him.
The crowd had split into two. The group in the middle were mostly girls shouting hysterically at one another. All the dogs were barking, capering around and wagging their tails. On the other side of the arena a larger group of the parents, including Shelby's dad and Mr Crook, stood in a semicircle, watching on, still eating and sipping their drinks, as though this were some kind of performance.
It was so loud that Shelby could hardly hear Clint when he spoke. 'Not so lucky now, Shelly Shoes.' Clint had a gleam of amusement in his eyes.
'You're enjoying this!'
He shrugged. 'Sometimes it's good to see people getting their just desserts.'
Shelby's mouth dropped open. 'I did get kicked in the head already!' She pointed to her face.
'Yes, but that's not funny. This, though – this is gold! I can't wait to tell the missus. She asks me about you girls every day when I walk in the door. "What have they done now?" It's like one of those stories on the radio that you hear in instalments.'
'You've known from the beginning?' asked Erin.
Clint chuckled. 'That little pony has been bouncing around the sales for months. Don't you remember all the fellas having a go at me – talking about whose turn it was? Some silly fool tried to get her in a box-trailer once. That's why they made those jokes about folding her up and putting her in my pocket.'
Shelby thought