Snowflakes, Silver and Secrets Read online

  For Charlotte,

  who has always love Christmas …

  ‘It’s snowing!’ cried Bryony. ‘I saw it! A flake – floating down past Red’s ears!’

  She tickled her bay pony behind his left ear and Red gave a delighted little whinny. He loved to be tickled just there and Bryony knew it.

  ‘You saw that snowflake too, right, Red?’ She smiled, gently bringing him to a halt outside the caves. It was a freezing Monday morning and the beach was deserted, even though it looked more beautiful than ever. The sand twinkled with early-morning frost and the tumbling waves were a dark steely-blue.

  Bryony’s friends gathered around on their ponies, and her twin brother, Josh, who much preferred wheels to hooves, pedalled over on his bike. The Super Six, as the friends called themselves, had ridden the whole stretch of beach. They’d even braved it into the deep gloomy caves, seeking out mystery and adventure. Everyone was excited. School had finished and Christmas was just five days away. But snow would make everything even more magical, so Bryony had been on the lookout for it since last Friday!

  The ponies stood nuzzling each other playfully, their warm breath misting the air. Red’s ears were pricked up and his big brown eyes bright. Bryony loved how friendly he was. All the ponies (except Piggy) were stabled at Seaview, which was why they’d become such great pals. Their owners were now Bryony’s best friends too, and they’d planned lots of great hacks over the Christmas holidays.

  ‘Hey, Em,’ grinned Bryony, ‘lucky old Piggy. We all need a warm coat like his today!’

  Emma smiled. ‘Yes. Piggy’s made for winter!’

  Emma’s pony was a roly-poly little Shetland who looked like an overgrown guinea pig. He had a very thick coat and a long shaggy mane, both of which had a tendency to tangle. Emma tried her best to keep him knot-free, and Bryony helped. But Piggy didn’t seem that bothered. As long as he could snack and nap he was happy!

  Princess Perla, standing just beside Piggy, couldn’t have looked more different. A tall, beautiful palomino mare, her coat was as shiny as a unicorn’s! Her owner, Alice, loved her looking neat, although Princess P preferred daring hillside climbs – and mud.

  Next was Daffodil, a young Welsh Connemara cross and the joker of the group. She stole hats off heads and swiped washing off lines. A cute dapple grey with a tufty coat and fluffy ears, Daffy knew she was lovely too! Hari, who’d only fairly recently got her, might tut at Daffy’s antics, but was clearly already smitten.

  Tornado was a little way off from the gang. He was a timid black gelding who belonged to Bryony’s brother’s best friend, Finn. Tor was currently backing away from a crab who’d suddenly scuttled from a rock pool. He was curious, but also really liked routine – so best avoid surprises or Tor could bolt off faster than a tornado!

  And then there was sweet, gentle Red. Red was everything Bryony could want. His rich bay coat was the colour of toffee apples in the morning sunshine and his midnight-black mane and tail looked shinier than ever. The cutest little kiss curl tumbled over his eyes and the small white star shape between them.

  Bryony leaned forward and patted him gently, breathing in his delicious cinnamon scent. Every pony had their own special smell and Red’s reminded Bryony of Christmas – so perfect for this time of year! Being his owner still sometimes felt like a dream.

  Red’s ear gave a flick and he whinnied brightly. He was full of beans today. ‘What?’ laughed Bryony. ‘You did see that snowflake. I knew it!’

  ‘Wishful thinking!’ grinned Hari, flicking back her long black plait. Hari might be straight-talking but she was such a loyal friend and always there for Bryony when it counted.

  ‘But it does feel cold enough,’ Alice added kindly. She always thought the best. Her wavy blonde hair twirled down from her riding hat, not a single curl out of place. Bryony longed for neat hair like that. But even in the frost, Bryony’s auburn frizz stayed as tightly curled as a dog whelk!

  ‘Thanks, Alice,’ said Bryony. ‘But maybe Hari’s right.’

  Then Finn examined the sky too.

  ‘No, I reckon snow’s definitely on the cards.’

  ‘Really?’ Bryony smiled, and Finn nodded back.

  ‘So yesterday I got this book from the library, and—’

  ‘ ’Course you did!’ Hari chipped in.

  Finn devoured books like Piggy hoovered hay!

  ‘Anyway, this book was about the weather,’ went on Finn, ‘and it said that low stratus clouds generally bring rain, while higher stratus clouds are associated with snow. And the ones in the sky now aren’t terribly low-hanging, see?’

  Bryony squinted up. She didn’t really see. Clouds were just clouds, she’d always thought.

  ‘Anyway, Bry,’ interrupted Josh. ‘Let’s keep moving before I turn into an icicle!’

  Shivering, he led the way off the beach, pushing his bike up the steep sandy slope as the others followed behind. The plan was to head to Bluebell Wood next as it always looked so beautiful in the frost.

  Bryony’s fingers were stinging like mad as Red trotted her up onto the pier. The sharp sea breeze had made them stiff and numb even though she was wearing thick gloves. She hoped Red wasn’t feeling the cold too much. But judging by the spring in his step and pricked-up ears, he was fine.

  They continued along the pier, past some kiosks which were closed, then headed down Smuggler’s Lane. This was the first of a tangle of little lanes weaving out from Brook Dale’s seafront to the fields, woods and meadows beyond.

  The lane was narrow so they got into pairs. Bryony and Alice went out in front, then came Hari and Emma, with Finn and Josh bringing up the rear.

  ‘Oh, that’s better, Red!’ Bryony smiled, and Red whinnied back brightly. It felt instantly more sheltered here with the trees and thick woody hedges acting as a windbreak.

  There were so many lovely things to see too: busy little squirrels bounding about, berries that shimmered with frost and the silvery brook skipping along beside them.

  Red nosed out in front as they took the next bend.

  ‘Steady, boy,’ called Bryony. For there in the lane was another pony trotting towards them.

  It was a tall powerful palomino with a beautifully glossy coat. And sitting very upright on the pony’s back was Bryony’s arch-enemy, Georgina Brook.

  It was clear that Georgina was claiming right of way even though she was riding alone. She was making no attempt to move Beau over to let them pass.

  ‘Whoa, Red,’ called Bryony, bringing him to a halt. She heard her friends behind call to their ponies too and Josh’s old bike squeak rustily to a stop at the back.

  Although there was now space for Georgina to ride past, she halted Beau in the middle of the lane and looked Red up and down. Bryony immediately felt herself bristle. Georgina judged everyone, but especially her and Red.

  Bryony’s mind flicked back to the summer before last when she’d moved here from the city. Georgina Brook had owned Red then, but hadn’t wanted him, or looked after him well. Georgina hated that now with Bryony as his owner, Red was doing beautifully.

  ‘Oh, it’s you lot,’ said Georgina, confidently stepping Beau forward. As she did, Red went to give him a friendly nuzzle but Georgina pulled Beau’s head away.

  ‘Don’t go near him, Beau!’ sniffed Georgina. ‘He’s so grubby!’

  ‘It’s just sand,’ frowned Bryony. ‘There’s nothing wrong with a bit of sand.’ She patted Red’s neck. ‘Red’s been having fun with his friends.’

  And at least, thought Bryony, she groomed Red herself. Whereas Georgina, who lived in the poshest house in town, got a few of the Brook Dale Manor staff to see to Beau.

  Georgina raised her white-blon
de eyebrows. Just like her pony, she was perfectly turned out. Her boots were polished, her riding jacket was crinkle-free, and there wasn’t a single speck of mud – or sand – in sight.

  Bryony became aware of her own clothes now. That morning she’d just grabbed the warmest things she could find, and it looked like her friends had too. Thick old fleeces, and mufflers and bobbly scarves, they were a muddle of mismatched layers. Bryony was also in her favourite hand-me-down jodhpurs.

  ‘What’s the hold-up?’ asked Josh, now appearing at Red’s side, but Georgina completely ignored this.

  ‘I saw your mother this morning,’ she said to Bryony.

  ‘So?’ Bryony shrugged back. The twins’ mum was a florist, and had been busy doing the Manor’s Christmas flower displays.

  ‘She was working in my sitting room – in her big muddy cardigan,’ Georgina continued with a shudder.

  ‘You try being a florist and keeping clean!’ cried Josh.

  ‘No, thank you!’ Georgina wrinkled up her nose. Then, raising her voice so the others could hear, ‘Well!’ she laughed. ‘I hope she does a good job or I’ll have to tell Daddy not to pay her!’

  ‘Mrs May always does a great job!’ called Alice.

  ‘Yeah!’ chorused Hari and Emma.

  ‘Plus,’ shouted Finn, ‘no one knows more about flowers!’

  Georgina smirked as if she couldn’t care less, though Bryony thought she could detect a flash of annoyance in her eyes that the others had spoken up.

  ‘Anyway,’ said Georgina, ‘I’ve got better things to do.’ And tapping Beau’s flanks, she trotted past them.

  ‘Forget her,’ muttered Josh as Bryony sighed.

  ‘You’re right,’ nodded Bryony. She wouldn’t let Georgina spoil the day.

  They carried on down the lane, which gradually widened out so that now they could ride as a group. Red seemed back to his normal perky self after the encounter with Georgina had quietened him.

  ‘But Piggy’s definitely slowing,’ said Emma. ‘Which means he wants a snack.’

  ‘We all want snacks at Christmas-time!’ smiled Bryony.

  She thought of the dreamy Christmas pastries on offer in the Lavender Lighthouse Tearoom, and the delicious shortbread stars iced with swirls. The holidays also meant no school for ages, so lots more time for hacks.

  ‘Nowhere beats Brook Dale at Christmas!’ grinned Bryony, and everyone agreed. It was pretty, and friendly, and there was so much to do!

  ‘I like the carol singing best,’ smiled Alice, ‘in Market Square on Christmas Eve.’

  ‘And buying presents!’ said Hari.

  ‘And wrapping them,’ laughed Emma.

  ‘And researching the history of Christmas,’ nodded Finn. ‘I found this brilliant book in the library.’

  ‘Mince pies!’ cried Josh. ‘Tons of mince pies!’

  ‘Well I,’ said Bryony, ‘love all the decorations. And so does Red!’

  Seaview Stables was starting to look really Christmassy with a big silver star light now twinkling on the gate. And Abi, who was Bryony’s favourite instructor, had told her there was more to come. Apparently the stable Christmas tree would have very special baubles this year too!

  ‘Hey, Josh,’ said Bryony, ‘Gramps is coming round later to help us make our gingerbread house.’

  ‘Cool!’ smiled Josh. ‘So no scoffing those jelly sweets . . .’

  ‘As if!’ Bryony grinned, patting her fleece pocket. Although she was tempted, these very special spiced cherry and apple flavour sweets made the perfect gingerbread-house roof tiles. They were coated in sugar that twinkled like frost, and smelled delicious.

  They’d bought the sweets earlier from the post office, and had been lucky to get them too. Miss Pigeon, who ran the place, only sold them at Christmas. And just to her favourite customers. Judging by the cherry smell on the old lady’s breath, Bryony suspected she was squirrelling some away to secretly scoff herself!

  ‘Em,’ said Bryony quietly. ‘Fancy helping with the gingerbread house?’ Her mum had said she could invite someone and Emma was her best friend.

  ‘Yes, please!’ whispered Emma. ‘Oh, but wait! I’m meant to be minding Will.’

  Emma’s parents were divorced and she sometimes helped out by looking after her little brother. ‘Dad’s got to get some rose bushes for the Brooks,’ said Emma. Her dad was head gardener at Brook Dale Manor.

  ‘That’s okay,’ said Bryony. ‘Bring Will too. Mum won’t mind.’

  They stopped by the brook to let the ponies have a drink. As Bryony dismounted, Josh pedalled off to do a few wheelies down the lane.

  ‘Mind the ice though,’ Bryony called.

  ‘No worries!’

  Bryony watched Red drink the icy water as it bubbled over the stones. ‘Oh, you’re thirsty!’ she said as he gently lapped it up.

  Bryony looked around. It was such a pretty spot! The teasels were draped with spider webs, shimmering and winking with ice. The fence twinkled too. And the late-morning sun – lion-yellow in summer – today wore the colour of a soft ripe peach.

  Bryony saw a robin on the drystone wall and Red then spotted it too. The bird started to chirp.

  ‘He’s singing “Jingle Bells”,’ cried Bryony and Red gave a happy little nicker.

  ‘Ah!’ laughed Bryony. ‘And now you’re joining in too!’

  It was getting colder, but there was still no sign of snow. They jumped back on their ponies and veered off the lane down a pretty cross-country bridle path. As they went, Bryony blew into her scarf. She loved this scarf so much. It was big and soft and a gorgeous teal-blue. Dad had given it to her the Christmas before he’d died and it felt like a hug from him when she huddled it around her. It still smelled of Dad too. Just a little bit . . .

  The branches up above were dotted with balls of mistletoe which looked like giant baubles.

  ‘Ooo!’ cried Bryony. ‘The Christmas Market’s tomorrow! I wonder if Farmer Jenkins will be selling mistletoe?’

  ‘He always does,’ said Emma. ‘And he’s got tons at the farm.’ Piggy lived in a field up at White Mouse Farm, so Emma had seen it.

  Bryony’s mum would have a stall at the Market too, selling door wreaths, flowerpots and winter posies. All of last week Mum had been busy making them. Plum Cottage had never looked so Christmassy!

  As well as buying presents for her family at the Market, Bryony thought she might find something for her ‘Friendship Jar’.

  These Friendship Jars were another Brook Dale Christmas tradition. They were actually just jam jars with wire handles, labelled with a pretty tag. Each child in town made one for someone else, so that everyone would get a present and no one would be left out. In the jar you put a small thoughtful gift. Some home-made cookies maybe. Or all the bits for someone to make a tree decoration. It didn’t have to be much. It was the thought that counted.

  ‘Hey, Alice, who’s your Friendship Jar person?’ asked Bryony, but Hari shushed Alice immediately.

  ‘Bryony May!’ grinned Hari. ‘That’s meant to be a secret!’ Names were pulled from a hat, and you weren’t supposed to say.

  ‘If Alice tells, she’ll turn into a toad!’ nodded Josh. And puffing out their cheeks, everyone started to ‘ribbit!’ hysterically.

  They were very nearly at Bluebell Wood now. Just one more bend to go. But as they approached it, Red stopped in his tracks, his head high and his ears forward.

  ‘What is it, boy?’ asked Bryony. Then she sniffed the air.

  ‘Wood smoke!’

  That was odd. Hardly anyone ever came out here as it was right on the outskirts of town.

  ‘It’s okay, Red,’ said Bryony. ‘Ah, but what’s going on . . .?’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ laughed Josh. ‘Ebony Swann’s on the case!’

  Ebony Swann was Bryony’s TV detective hero. Bryony never missed a single episode. And the more she watched, the more she longed for real-life mysteries to solve!

  ‘It’s probably just Farmer Jenkins,’ said Emma. �
��Burning snapped branches, I expect.’

  ‘Yeah, tons came down in last night’s storm,’ Hari nodded.

  ‘Well, there’s only one way to find out,’ beamed Bryony. ‘Follow me!’

  Bryony trotted Red around the bend and there, set back in a small meadow on the outskirts of Bluebell Wood, was the prettiest little caravan she’d ever seen. ‘It looks like it’s out of a fairy tale, Red!’ she smiled.

  It was made out of wood, painted purplish-red, and decorated with flowers, fruit and birds.

  At the front it had a little door in two parts which looked like a stable door, but smaller. Leading down from it was a fold-up ladder in the same pale yellow as the wooden wheels.

  Arching over the top was a bright green domed roof with a chimney pipe to the left of the door. A ribbon of silver-grey smoke was trickling from it, dancing merrily up into the frosty sky.

  Someone, thought Bryony, must be at home, and had lit their stove to keep warm. But the question was who could that someone be?

  Her friends now appeared.

  ‘Wow,’ said Alice. ‘And look behind the caravan too!’

  Bryony stepped Red sideways so she could see. ‘Oh, yes!’

  Tied to one of the pines on the edge of the wood was a big strapping horse.

  ‘It’s a Shire,’ said Finn. ‘You can tell by its size and the feathering on its legs, see?’ It was mainly black but its lower legs were white and fanned out like fringy tassels!

  Bryony nodded. ‘But it’s so big.’ She’d seen Shire horses in books before but didn’t appreciate quite how huge they were.

  ‘Easily about eighteen hands, I’d say,’ said Hari.

  To the left of the caravan was a smouldering campfire. Above it, dangling from a three-legged metal stand, was a huge black cast-iron kettle. A whisper of smoke curled up from the centre of the charred logs, the smell of which was pleasantly sweet.

  ‘So that’s why Red stopped back there,’ said Bryony. ‘He smelled the wood smoke.’ She ruffled his mane. ‘Clearly he’s the Ebony Swann of the pony world!’

  Bryony’s gaze returned to the caravan. ‘I wonder who lives inside?’ she said.