Free Phantom: One Last Chance by Belinda Rapley Page A

but so much talent. Not the friendliest, but then not every horse is, and I put that down to his chequered past.”
    Charlie glanced at Mia to check she was getting all of it down in her notebook. Mia nodded encouragingly.
    Mrs Millar sighed. “Hmm, what next? Oh yes, that’s it. Last night I managed to speak to the dealer that Liz bought him from. He picked Phantom up cheap from a woman called Ellie, who’d bought Phantom direct from his breeder. She was still fuming about it, apparently, convinced that the breeder had pulled a fast one,pretending the foal was older than he actually was. Ellie kept Phantom in a field for a couple of years but could never really get near him, he was too wild. So she sent him to the dealer, who then sold him on to Liz. I haven’t managed to speak to the breeder yet, but I hear he’s a bit of a slippery, unpleasant character. I’ve got his name here somewhere… now, where did I put it? Ah, yes, here it is, the breeder’s name is Tim Leech.”
    Charlie gasped. She remembered the photo of Fable – she’d almost mistaken the black mare for Phantom. But Phantom couldn’t be Fable’s foal – her little colt had died! At least, that’s what Tim Leech had told Caitlin all those years ago. Unless he’d lied to her.
    Charlie sat stock still, stunned by Phantom’s possible connection to Fable and Caitlin and the diary she held in her shaking hands. She cleared her throat and thanked Mrs Millar, then ended the call. Mia had written everything down in her notebook, but the words swam before Charlie’seyes and for a moment she couldn’t move. Then she got up and walked to the stable next door. Phantom raised his head, and it was as if Charlie was seeing him for the first time: a gangly legged foal, wrenched from his mother too early, running scared ever since.
    She heard the others emerge from Wish’s stable, carrying out their blankets and mugs.
    “Come on,” Alice said. “Time to get the ponies in.”

Chapter Eleven
    THEY brought in the other ponies and changed their rugs before dishing out their feeds.
    “Right, we’d better start preparing for tonight,” Mia announced after they’d had a quick sweep round and switched off the yard light. They’d debated whether to leave it on, but decided that they didn’t want the routine to be different from normal, so they’d turned it off.
    They went into the cottage and, over platefuls of piping-hot shepherd’s pie, began to plan the evening ahead, deciding who was going to take which stints sitting at the big window seat in Rosie’s bedroom that overlooked the stables. They discussed what reading material to take for when they were on lookout duty (Fable’s diary and theChristmas edition of Pony Mad ), whether they should change into pyjamas and wear their clothes on top, and finally, what to do if someone did turn up.
    As soon as they’d finished eating the girls raced upstairs, flying into Rosie’s yellow bedroom, with its walls covered in pictures of Dancer, pony posters pulled from Pony Mad and wall charts about breeds, colours and markings. Her book shelves were stuffed with well-thumbed copies of every horse and pony book going. Mrs Honeycott had arranged a couple of blow-up beds and pulled in a spare mattress, all of which were piled with pillows, duvets and sleeping bags.
    After they’d got settled on the beds, plumping for jeans and jumpers worn over pyjamas, Mia switched off the light, turned on her torch and pulled out her notebook. Rosie curled up under her duvet, and Alice sat next to Mia, while Charlie took up position on the window seat. With one hand she scooped up the curtain and looked outover the pitch-black yard; the only light was the soft glow coming from the downstairs windows of the cottage. In her other hand she held Fable’s diary, now determined to finish it that night.
    “Let’s go through everything we’ve got so far,” Mia said, flipping past the pages with ‘Moonlight’, ‘Scout’ and