Pony Passion Read Online Free PDF Page B

imagine, we spent the whole of the rest of break complaining about the M&Ms. We could spend years on that subject, I reckon!
    “You know what I heard them saying to Alana?” said Rosie. “That she couldn’t be their friend because she doesn’t wear the right clothes at the weekends.”
    “Yeah, like they’re such style queens,” said Fliss. “Not!”
    “They’re just the pits,” declared Frankie. “And we have so got to get them back for setting me up like that.”
    There was silence while we all tried to think how.
    “We should kung fu them,” suggested Kenny,“like in Kung Fu Panda!” Now Kenny turned into her own version of a kung fu whirlwind, her arms chopping and her legs flailing – until she tripped over one of her big feet and went sprawling on the tarmac.
    “Ow.” She sat up, rubbing her knee. “OK. Maybe not. I think it takes a bit of practice.”
    Then the bell rang. “We’ll think of something,” I whispered to Frankie as we lined up. “It’ll be the best revenge plan ever. No fear.”
    I have to admit, though, I hadn’t had a single idea by the end of school. And when I got home, the whole Frankie revenge drama flew clean out of my head when I saw a large white envelope waiting for me on the kitchen table.
    Don’t you just love getting post? I grabbed the envelope and tore it open without even waiting to take my coat off. Inside was a card, with a picture of a girl riding a beautiful black pony on the front. Inside it said:
To a very promising – and brave! – rider,
    Wishing you a speedy recovery
    Mrs McAllister
    Miranda
    I read it over three times. Mrs McAllister had never said I was “very promising” before. This almost made breaking my arm worthwhile!
    “Can I go to the stables?” I said to Mum.
    “What, now?” Mum laughed. “You can’t keep away from that place for five minutes, can you?”
    “I’ll go on my bike.”
    “Not with your arm like that.” Mum checked her watch. “I promised I’d take some books round to Mrs Clark, so I suppose I could drop you on my way and pick you up on the way back. You wouldn’t have very long there…”
    “That’s OK. I just want to thank Mrs McAllister for the card.”
    “All right, then. Give me fifteen minutes.”
    When I got to the stables, I found preparations for the gymkhana in full swing.I must admit, it made my heart sink. Why had I had my accident now?
    I poked my head round the office door, and found Miranda sewing flags. I thanked her for the card.
    “You’re welcome—ouch!” She stuck her finger in her mouth. “I tell you, if I’d known working at a stables involved so much sewing I’m not sure I would’ve taken the job.”
    “Sorry I can’t help,” I said, waggling my plaster arm.
    Miranda winked. “You’re well out of it,” she said. “Shame about missing the gymkhana, though. You were coming on so well.”
    The next moment Mrs McAllister hurried past me and picked up the phone.
    “I got your card. It’s lovely!” I said as she flipped through the phone book and started to dial.
    Mrs McAllister flashed me a smile. “Don’t you worry, Lyndsey,” she said. “We’ll soon have you riding again.”
    I backed out of the office. They were clearlytoo busy to chat. Instead I walked over to one of the fields that Mrs McAllister rents from Mr Brocklehurst’s farm next door. As well as games at the gymkhana, there was going to be a small course of jumps. They’d been set up in this field.
    One of the jumps was made out of tyres threaded on to a pole, another was made of a pile of straw bales. Then there were wooden poles painted with bright red and white stripes, some fitted on to stands and some on to plastic blocks.
    I’ve only had a go at jumping once or twice. Now I stood and watched one of the bigger girls, Lisa Bentham, practising on a pony called Trojan. Have you ever seen show jumping? What’s so awesome about it is how beautiful the horses look when they leap over the fences – the way