Dinky would have to wait to put her plan into action, as her foster parents took her on holiday the following Friday, going to Canterlot on the up "Twilight Wayfarer" before taking an overnight train to Neighmouth. So for a week, Dinky enjoyed the seaside, looking forward to the opening day of the season the following Saturday.

That didn't mean that it was a holiday devoid of football, however. Chelsea had gone back to Germany to play a preseason competition in Frankfurt, and had effortlessly beaten Toronto FC to set up a final clash with Barcelona. The Blaugrana were favourites against a Chelsea side which fielded Tomori, Kana and Hudson-Odoi, but no one, human or pony, could have predicted what was to happen. Dinky had managed to persuade her foster parents to find a waterfront tavern showing the match, and they got a full view of the action.

It took just five minutes for Barcelona to score, as Arturo Vidal swung in a cross to Griezmann, who headed home. The next goal came a minute later, but it was Chelsea who scored it, as Mount, Ziyech and Werner combined for Mount to bring the scores level.

Barcelona retook the lead in the 13th minute, as a cross from left-back Junior Firpo found Lionel Messi, who won a tussle with Zouma and fired the ball into the net. Yet again, Chelsea came back. Hakim Ziyech took a shot which was saved by Ter Stegen, who also saved the follow up. The second rebound, however, fell to Werner, who steered the ball into an empty net. Ziyech made up for his earlier miss just before the half hour, as he headed Hudson-Odoi's cross into the net.

Chelsea's front three, augmented by Mason Mount's forward runs, were tormenting Barca's back line and early in the second half, Hudson-Odoi skinned Vidal and set up Ziyech for a second goal. To add insult to injury, Sancho then came on and won a penalty from Vidal, which was given to Ziyech who duly converted for his hat-trick. Chelsea would rub salt into the wounds with three minutes left, as Ziyech got the better of Junior Firpo and sent Werner clear of the defence. Werner slotted the ball past an onrushing Ter Stegen as an amazed Kick Off repeated the scoreline of Barcelona two, Chelsea six.

The trip back was similar to the trip there; an overnight seated train to Canterlot Central and the "Wind Whistler" to Coltsborough. However, as Dinky woke up, she realised that the train was slowing down. As she looked out of the window, she noticed an all-too-familiar apple orchard, and as the train slowed further, she realised where she was, with the word "PONYVILLE" painted in white on the station's brown nameboards. An ice-cold dagger was then plunged through her heart, as she caught sight of a familiar gray pegasus with a blonde mane being passed some letters from the brake coach behind the engine. She desperately tried to get her mother's attention, but was drowned out by the 9F at the head of her train as it started away.

Dinky remained quiet for much of the journey back, as the Wind Whistler ended up arriving half an hour late. Once back at the house, Dinky practically sprinted up to her room and turned her radio on.

"...a penalty to Aston Villa," John Southall was saying, "Azpilicueta the culprit, and after all Chelsea's dominance, Adrien Silva has the chance to put the hosts in front...and he does! Aston Villa one, Chelsea nil!"

Dinky groaned as the radio went back to the Brighton-Leeds game, only for John Southall to cut in again.

"Aston Villa have the ball in the net again; unfortunately for them it's their own net!" he said, "Jadon Sancho with a cross into the area, Konsa attempted to clear behind, but only succeeded in putting the ball into his own net. One-one!"

And that was all Chelsea needed to get going. In the 33rd minute, Timo Werner scored on his Premier League debut after running onto a pass from Sancho and sending a shot into the bottom corner, before Kai Havertz converted a pass from Sancho to get a debut goal of his own ten minutes into the second half. Chelsea were never threatened in the remaining 35 minutes and could have added to their tally, but the big news of the day came from The Emirates, where Arsenal hit Fulham for seven.

Come Monday, Dinky made her way to the station and trotted up to the ticket office.

"I'm visiting my aunt in Ponyville in a couple of weekends' time," she said, "And I need a ticket for the Thestral for a week on Friday."

"A foal's cabin ticket on the Thestral is 35 bits," the attendant said. Dinky handed over the money from her saddle bags, and the attendant gave her the ticket.

With the thought of finally seeing her mother again, it was almost worth having to endure another visit from Autumn Scamper the following Saturday.

"You might have beaten Barcelona by four goals," Autumn began, "But we did it when it mattered, in a Champions League semi final."

"Did you put six past them?" Dinky asked, "And we didn't give them a three goal start…"

"That's not relevant," Autumn replied, "Ziyech is going to be another flop. Mark my words, you've had his one good game. He won't score today."

Whilst Ziyech didn't score, Werner hit a hat-trick in a 4-0 win at home to Southampton to make it two wins out of two and keep them on maximum points with Arsenal, Tottenham, Wolves and Man Utd, the last of whom had pulled off a shock 3-0 away win in the Manchester Derby.

The week seemed to drag on, but by Friday, Dinky was ready, with her bags packed. Thanking her magic teacher for teaching teleportation just before school had broken up, she took one last look at the poster of Tammy Abraham above her bed and vanished.

She emerged at the end of her street, and luck was on her side as she quickly entered Acacia Street. Eventually, she reached the high street, from which it was a straightforward walk down to Station Road.

Coltsborough station was still a hive of activity late at night, with post and parcel trains being loaded. Dinky made a beeline for Platform 2, where the "Thestral'' was being boarded. A porter directed her to Coach E, which was the first sleeping car in the rake after the three seated carriages and the buffet coach.

As Dinky settled into her cabin, the attendant knocked on the door.

"What would you like for breakfast?" He asked.

Dinky looked at the menu. "Tea and toast, please." She replied.

"Any choice of newspaper?"

"Football Daily."

The attendant left and Dinky got into bed. Her heart raced as departure time got closer and closer. She was almost expecting the Foal Protection Agency to burst onto the platform and drag her off the train. But then the guard's whistle sounded, the "Royal Scot'' at the head of the train whistled in response, and the train pulled out of the station as Dinky fell asleep, the rhythm of the carriage wheels and the steady beat from the locomotive lulling her into her slumber.

A knock at the door awoke Dinky the following morning, as the sleeping car attendant brought her her breakfast and a copy of Football Daily, which contained the report from the previous night's North London Derby as well as a preview of the weekend's remaining Premier League games, including Chelsea's West London Derby at home to Fulham. Eventually, the train passed under the massive signal gantry outside Canterlot Central, and pulled into the station.

All Dinky needed to do now, she thought as she left her cabin, was cross the concourse to the ticket office, buy a single to Ponyville, and make her way to the other side of the station from which southbound trains departed. But as she approached the ticket window, she saw something which made her blood run cold. At the head of the queue and hectoring the attendant was an all-too-familiar bespectacled unicorn.

Dinky had just seconds to act. If Autumn saw her, it was game over. She backed away from the queue and then darted across the concourse to the exit. She didn't dare look back, and just kept running. Up ahead, she saw the "Football Portals" which took matchgoing ponies to the games they were attending. She charged at the one with Chelsea's logo above it and dived in.

She emerged onto the Fulham Road, just outside Stamford Bridge, and quickly turned towards the stadium. As she looked behind her, she felt herself collide with a pair of legs. She looked up and immediately recognised the black suit, the logo on the jacket's left breast, the blue tie, and the person in the suit. She was looking at none other than George Spencer himself.

A/N: You know what they say about the best laid plans...

A 9F was a heavy freight locomotive with ten driving wheels. While mainly used for freight, they were sometimes employed on passenger workings, most notably on the Somerset and Dorset route from Bath to Bournemouth. A "Royal Scot" was an express locomotive designed by Henry Fowler for the London Midland and Scottish Railway in 1927, which was rebuilt by Sir William Stanier in the 1940s and 1950s.

35 bits for a foal's cabin may seem ludicrously cheap, but in this universe 1 bit equates to around £2.40.