Pony Passion by Harriet Castor Read Free Book Online Page A

popcorn, someone – I’ve worked up an appetite here.”
    I grabbed the bag and tossed it to Kenny. I was so chuffed that my friends liked my idea, I felt like boogying round the room!
    As it turned out, a chance for that came soon enough. Frankie brought in some juice and we all slurped and munched our way through two episodes of Hannah Montana. We made a rule that every time the theme music came on, we had to dance around and pretend we’re famous popstars.
    After that we were pretty exhausted (not to mention a bit queasy from the sweets-and-juice-and-bopping combination), so Frankie fetched needles and thread and we got down to makingthe bracelets. I was doing one for Kenny. “Can you make it in Leicester City colours?” she asked.
    “You’ll be lucky to have any colours at this rate,” I said. It was pretty tricky with my arm in plaster. In the end, Rosie had to do half of it for me.
    After that we had the ceremonial trying-on of the bracelets. Kenny had made Frankie’s too small, but Rosie – who has smaller hands – offered to swap, so it was fine. Then we plunged into the marshmallows and gorged ourselves on pink and white squish until it was time to get into our pyjamas.
    “Look!” giggled Kenny, who’d shut her eyes and was somehow managing to grip a marshmallow in each eye socket. “I am the marshmallow monster! Aaarrrgh!”
    If it hadn’t been so hilarious it would’ve been dead scary. We laughed so much that I got a major attack of the hiccups and Rosie’s Coke came out of her nose.
    “Ach! That hurts!” she said, shaking her head.
    At that moment Frankie’s dad put his headround the door. “Er…I’m not even going to ask,” he said, looking round at the mess and our flushed faces. “Teeth cleaning then lights out, you rowdy rabble!”
    Soon we were snuggled down in our sleeping bags. We switched on our torches and talked for a while about how cool it’d be if we were in a pop video with Hannah – with Zac Efron making a guest appearance! Then Frankie’s mum insisted it was torches-off time. It was hard to get comfy with my plaster cast, and I thought I was never going to get to sleep. As I lay there blinking into the dark, I suddenly realised I’d hardly thought about the gymkhana all day. Now it was over. And I started wondering who had winner’s rosettes on their bedroom wall tonight…
    “Lyndsey, there you are!” said Mrs McAllister, striding towards me across the yard. “I’ve been looking all over for you. It’s your turn on the jumps course. Now! Hurry, hurry!”
    Bramble was beside me, all tacked up and ready to go. The yard was crowded with riders and ponies, and ahead I could see lots of people milling around the edges of the field. I led Bramble across the yard. Then I put my foot in the stirrup and quickly swung myself up into the saddle.
    It was only then that a cold feeling crept over me. The field, I could see, was dotted with fences made out of wooden poles, straw bales and old tyres. “Bramble!” I whispered. “This can’t be right. We’re not entered in the jumps, are we?”
    All about me, unfamiliar faces were staring. “But I’ve never jumped proper fences,” I wanted to say. I hadn’t even walked round the course. What order were you supposed to take the jumps in? How on earth were we going to do it?
    “Number five: Lyndsey Collins,” came the voice over the tannoy.
    I had to say something. I had to tell them that I couldn’t do it. But Bramble seemed to have other ideas. She was trotting forward of her own accord.
    What do I know about jumping? I thought desperately. Approach in a straight line. Lean forward from the hips – but not too soon. Keep your back straight…oh help!
    We were coming up to the first jump. Somehow it had grown. Instead of a few bales of straw I saw a looming green bank, like something out of the Grand National. We didn’t have a hope.
    But Bramble was heading straight for it. “Wait, Bramble! Whoa!” I kept saying,