Issie and the Christmas Pony Read Online Free PDF

was a computer surrounded by piles of paperwork. But what really caught Issie’s attention was the wall above the desk, which was festooned with satin ribbons, the sort that you win at horse shows. There were loads of them, all strung up together so that they arched in a shining rainbow across the wall with their fancy gold and silver tassels dangling down at each end.
    Issie read the curly writing on the ribbons: things like 1 st place Team Area Trials Championship and Eventer of the Year. Hanging on the wall directly beneath the ribbons were framed photos of lots of different horses-chestnuts, bays and greys-but the rider was always the same. He was lean and lanky, with a handsome face and masses of unruly brown curls sticking out from under his riding helmet.
    There was one really old and faded photo of him where he looked almost as young as Issie, smiling for the camera and proudly holding up a wooden trophy covered in little gold shields. In the other photos he looked much older, and he was jumping over really enormous cross-country fences. Issie’s favourite was a framed print of the man riding a chestnut horse and jumping over a giant flower pot. She put outa hand to touch the picture when a man’s voice behind her startled her and made her jump back.
    â€œYou like that one? It’s my favourite too,” she heard him say. “It was taken at the Badminton Horse Trials. Starlight was spooked by the flowers. I had to kick her on to get over it, but she was fine after that and gave me a lovely clear round.”
    Issie turned around to see a man leaning in the doorway behind her. He looked familiar somehow and then she realised why. His face was the same one she had just been looking at in all the pictures. He looked a bit older than in the photographs, but he still had the same curly brown hair which was now trying to escape from beneath a cheesecutter cap. He wore a navy jumper, dark tan riding breeches and a pair of green Hunter wellingtons.
    â€œThat’s you in the photo?” Issie asked.
    â€œThe last time I looked it was,” the man said with a grin. “That chestnut jumping the flowerpot is Starlight. She was a brilliant mare in her day, but she’s retired now. You probably saw her as you came in here-she’s grazing in the magnolia-tree paddock.”
    Issie remembered the horse with the two white socks. It was the same horse in the picture! “Youmean you’ve ridden at the Badminton Horse Trials?” Issie couldn’t believe it.
    â€œQuite a few times actually…” the man said, gazing at the photos, “but I’m like Starlight I suppose. I retired from that sort of thing a while ago.”
    â€œYou don’t look that old!” said Issie.
    The man laughed. “Thanks!”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Issie stammered. “I meant you don’t look old enough to retire.”
    â€œAh well,” the man said. “There’s a story there. You see, I took a bit of a tumble on the course at Badminton. I was on my favourite horse. His name was The Soothsayer. We were at the Vicarage Vee and he slipped coming into the fence…” He trailed off and didn’t finish the sentence. “Anyway, that was a long time ago. I’m guessing you’re not here to talk about my former riding career. You must be the girl that phoned up about the mistreated horse?”
    â€œYes…well, no…well, kind of. It was my mum who called you. We thought maybe you could help us?”
    The man looked at her kindly. “I’m sure I can. That’s what I’m here for…” He paused. “I’m sorry. I don’t think you told me your name.”
    Issie grinned. “I’m Isadora Brown. But my friends call me Issie.”
    â€œNice to meet you, Issie.” The curly haired man stuck out his hand for her to shake. “I’m Tom Avery.”

5
Bombproof Bert
    It turned out that as well as being a