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Authors: Harriet Castor

Pony Passion

BOOK: Pony Passion
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Harriet Castor


Hey, watch out! That’s Kenny, doing her mad pony impression again. She’ll use us for jumping practice if we don’t get out of the way. Quick – let’s sit over here for a sec. I haven’t seen you for ages and we’ve got so much to catch up on!

You remember me, don’t you? I’m Lyndz (Lyndsey Marianne Collins to give you the full caboodle) and I’m a member of the coolest club in the whole world—


OK, Frankie! How come she heard that from half-way across the yard? She must have enormous flappy elephant ears, that maniac!

But she’s right, the Sleepover Club is the best club in the entire universe, ever. And when you hear what we’ve been up to this time…Well, it’s a good job I’m the one who gets to tell you about it, cos no one else could give you all the inside goss on this story. There’s been more drama round here recently than in a whole series of Hollyoakes, I reckon! Like that moment when—no, wait, I mustn’t spoil it. But I think I got the biggest fright of my life. You’ll be on the edge of your seat, I promise!

I’d better start at the beginning, hadn’t I, or I’ll be gabbling on and you won’t have a clue what I’m talking about. For a start – you remember the rest of the Sleepover Club, right? There’s Kenny, who nearly landed on top of us just now. She’s actually Laura McKenzie to the teachers, but don’t call her that or she’ll jump on you for
real! Kenny’s wild about football (weird, huh?), but she’s a complete laugh, too. And she is the best schemer when it comes to getting back at the M&Ms, our arch-enemies.

Then there’s Frankie Thomas. She doesn’t really have elephant ears, but she does have a seriously LOUD voice. Frankie’s always having barmy ideas, and dressing up in even barmier clothes, given half the chance. Just wait till you hear about her latest outfit…

Next comes Miss Felicity Sidebotham – that’s Fliss for short, of course. Look, she’s over there chatting to Rosie, probably still going on about those hairdos she’s mad about. Rosie looks a bit bored, but she’s far too nice to say so – typical Rosie!

Rosie’s the fifth member of the Sleepover Club. She’s ace – and not as crazy as some of the others, which is a relief, I can tell you. Together we have the most awesome time going to sleepovers at each other’s houses. We’re always making wicked plans for
things to do, even if sometimes they go a bit pear-shaped.

And, boy, did things go super pear-shaped this time – especially for me! It all started a few weeks ago, on a wet Monday morning. The first bell hadn’t even gone yet, but we were in our classroom because of the rain. Everyone was sitting on desks and talking, except for Danny McCloud and Mark Pitt, who were having a scrap in the corner (sad or what?).

Suddenly Frankie burst into the room at a million miles an hour, threw her bag down and boinged up on to the desk beside me.

“Guess what?” she said.

“What?” Fliss, Rosie, Kenny and I all said together.

“My gran came to stay this weekend and she brought me the coolest present and it made me have the coolest idea and I am just so COOL you should all just gasp.”

Kenny did it really well. Her hands shot up to her mouth and her eyes stretched wide, as if
Madonna had walked in to take the register.

“Well? What is it?” I said. Frankie had started wriggling out of her coat, in no hurry to spill the beans. She’s never happier than when she’s got all our attention. I wouldn’t put it past her to say she’s got a brilliant idea even when she hasn’t, just to keep us hanging on.

“What’s the idea?” said Rosie.

“What’s the present?” said Fliss.

“Quick! Or ve have vays of making you talk!” said Kenny, grabbing Frankie’s arm and pushing her sleeve up, pretending she was going to give her a Chinese burn.

Frankie laughed. “It’s, like, a bag of treasure,” she said.

“Treasure?” Kenny’s eyes lit up. “Pirate treasure?”

A really strange picture popped into my head of Frankie’s gran wearing a black eye patch, with a parrot sitting on her shoulder. It made me giggle.

“Pieces of eight?” said Rosie. “And diamonds and – and gold?”

“Not real treasure. Gran’s given up the bank-robbing,”
said Frankie with a wink. She’d spotted the M&Ms – that’s Emma Hughes and Emily Berryman, the snidest snottiest girls in our class – loitering near us. They’re so nosy, they’re always listening in to our conversations. When she heard the word ‘bank-robbing’ Emily looked really shocked. It was wicked.

Now Frankie leant forward and said more quietly, “It’s beads, actually. Gran brought me this big bag of them, and they’re amazing. Like jewels. They’re all different colours, and some of them have got glitter under the surface so they’re really sparkly. Some have tiny patterns painted on them too.”

“Wow!” said Fliss.

Kenny groaned. “Yawn, more like,” she said. “I thought it was going to be something exciting, Thomas.” Kenny’s not really into clothes and girlie stuff. She’d wear her Leicester City football top every day if she could.

But Frankie wasn’t put off. “And I’ve had the best idea,” she said. “What if we make bracelets
for each other? Special bracelets that only members of the Sleepover Club can wear!”

“Pledges of our undying friendship,” said Fliss grandly.

“Hey, yeah!” said Rosie. “And we could always wear them and never take them off,” Rosie continued. “Oh, except for school.” We’re not allowed to wear jewellery, worse luck.

“All the time except school, then,” I said. “It’s a majorly fab idea, Frankie. Have you brought the beads in? Can we do it today?”

“I didn’t want to risk it with those two lamebrains around,” she said, jerking her thumb in the direction of the M&Ms. “And in any case, I thought I’d save them cos Mum and Dad said I can have a sleepover.”

“Now, that’s more like it!” said Kenny, grinning. “This weekend?”

Frankie shook her head. “Gran’ll still be here and it’ll be too much of a squash, Mum says. How about a week on Saturday? If everyone comes round in the afternoon we could make
the bracelets and maybe watch a video, too.”

“Hey, we should watch Hannah Montana – you know, she wears bracelets!” said Fliss. “I could bring my dvds.” Fliss has every Hannah Montana dvd video there’s ever been. I reckon she must know all the episodes off by heart.

“I’m there – guaranteed!” I said.

“Me too!” said Rosie.

“Can my bracelet be pink?” said Fliss eagerly. “Who’s going to make it for me?”

At that moment Mrs Weaver, our teacher, came in. “Settle down, everyone,” she shouted, clapping her hands.

“We can sort that out later,” Frankie said to Fliss, stepping on to my chair and then clambering over on to her desk.

“Francesca Thomas, this is not a mountaineering class!” shouted Mrs Weaver, sounding cross already.

It was a sign of things to come. Weaver had obviously got out of bed on the wrong side that morning, and the slightest bit of cheek from
Danny or chattering at the back had her looking all purse-lipped and thundery. Honestly, it’s such a downer when teachers are like that, don’t you think? School is bad enough – they could at least try to make it nicer for us by being in a good mood!

She cheered up a bit after the register, though, when she started telling us about a new project she wanted us to work on in our history lessons.

“Who’s been to Cuddington library recently?” she asked first.

The M&Ms stuck their hands up. They’re such goody-goodies, it’s enough to make you sick.

“And did you notice anything new there, Emma?” said Mrs Weaver.

Emma Hughes looked puzzled. “Er…books?” she said.

Behind me, I heard Kenny snort. “Books?” she muttered. “In a library? Omigosh, how shocking!”

Well, that set me off giggling, and once I start I’m a lost cause, my dad says. I was trying
to listen to what Mrs Weaver was saying, concentrating on how unfunny it was.

“I expect they do have some new books, but that’s not what I was thinking of, Emma.”

But all the time I was quaking and shaking, and feeling that if I didn’t let these giggles out I was going to…


Too late! The hiccups had started. I had to put my head on the desk to try and hide. Behind me I could hear Frankie and Kenny spluttering and snorting. The mad thing was, it hadn’t even been that funny.

“Lyndsey Collins, whatever is the matter?”

Uh-oh. Frankie always says I should be in the Guinness Book of Records for having the loudest, squeakiest hiccups in the world. Not handy when you’re trying to hide.

I lifted my head. “Noth-hic-ing, Mrs Weaver.”

“What have I just been saying?”

“Um, about the, hic, library having something new, and it’s not new, hic, books…” I was so
desperate to laugh, my voice had gone all wobbly.

Mrs Weaver was not amused. “Come and sit over here,” she said, pointing to an empty desk right in front of her.

BOOK: Pony Passion
10.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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