Pony Passion by Harriet Castor Read Free Book Online

even better.
    Honestly, before I even got out of bed, my mood had gone up and down like a yo-yo!
    Mum drove me to Frankie’s after lunch. We passed a load of horseboxes coming the other way, heading for McAllister’s stables. That was a nightmare – just thinking about Bramble and how I could have been tacking her up for the gymkhana right now made my chin go all trembly.
    But as soon as Frankie flung open her front door, saw the monster bag of marshmallows I was clutching, and squealed, “Here she is! The marshmallow queen! Are we glad to see you!”, I felt a load better. Sleepovers rule, as Kenny would say!
    In the sitting room, I found Kenny, Rosie and Fliss sprawled on the carpet. Fliss had her bag open and was unpacking enough Hannah Montana dvds for about nine sleepovers.
    “We don’t have to watch them all,” she said, stacking them up in a pile. “But I thought we should have a choice.”
    “Well, I reckon we’ve got enough sweets to get us through a TV marathon,” said Rosie. It was true. There was a major heap of Minstrels, Liquorice All-Sorts, Jelly Babies and Toffee Popcorn, even without my marshmallows.
    “And we’ve got to make the bracelets!” said Frankie, holding up a big clear plastic bag that sparkled and twinkled in the light. The beads were loads of different colours – deep reds and purples and blues, gold and silver (Frankie’s fave colour – no wonder she was so pleased), plus delicate pinks and apple greens and lilacs.
    “Wow! They are beautiful!” breathed Fliss. Even Kenny looked impressed.
    “Before we start the fun stuff,” I said, “can I tell you something?”
    Instantly my friends looked at me eagerly. “Is it juicy gossip?” asked Frankie.
    “’Fraid not,” I said. “It’s just that I’ve had an idea for our presentation.”
    “Glad somebody has!” said Kenny. “cos I was getting nowhere.”
    “Me neither,” said Rosie. “Tell us then, Lyndz.”
    “Well…” Suddenly, with them all looking at me, I wondered whether it was such a good idea after all. But I ploughed on. “…My dad’s got these giant bits of cardboard, you see, so I thought we could make big cardboard cut-outs of things. Like a train, and a horse, and one of those old-fashioned bicycles – you, know, the really tall ones…”
    “Penny farthings,” said Frankie.
    “That’s it.” I nodded. “And one of us could stand on a chair and hold the picture below them to make it look like they’re riding the bike. Someone at the back could hold up the train, and make it go along. And then instead of just giving speeches or whatever we were going to do, we could make it into a little scene. Say, a posh lady comes along in a carriage and meets the man on the bicycle, and they have achat about these new things called trains…”
    “Bagsy I’m the posh lady!” said Fliss. “I’ve got a long dress and everything!”
    Frankie gasped. “You know what the best thing would be?” she said. “Two of us should be the horse that’s pulling the carriage – the front end and the back end, like in a Christmas panto! It’d be hilarious!”
    “You and me!” yelled Kenny, grabbing Frankie and scrambling to her feet. Frankie bent over, and held Kenny round the waist. Kenny put her hands up as ears and pawed the ground with her foot, and they set off galloping round the room.
    Suddenly Frankie broke away, holding her nose. “Hey, Kenny, did you parp?”
    “Baked beans for lunch – sorry,” said Kenny sheepishly while the rest of us roared with laughter.
    “You’re definitely the back end next time,” said Frankie, flopping down on the carpet.
    “That is a seriously cool idea, Lyndz,” said Rosie.
    “It’s top,” agreed Kenny. “But where are we going to get a horse costume?”
    “Make it?” I suggested. “Brown tights, brown T-shirts – we could get some wool for the tail.”
    “And we could make a mask for the face,” added Rosie.
    “Wicked,” said Kenny. “Chuck us the