Free Prize Problems by Janet Rising Page B

you’ve lost Silver.”
    â€œGet lost yourself, Zoe!” exclaimed Amber, helping herself to another shrimp. “Anyone would think you were the elder sister instead of me. Just leave me alone, will you?”
    â€œSomeone has to be responsible,” mumbled Zoe.
    â€œJust how valuable is your Silver horse?” asked Ellie. “My dad has a big bronze of a greyhound at home. It’s really valuable, worth thousands of dollars and almost a hundred years old. Is Silver worth as much as that?”
    â€œProbably,” said Amber, gloomily, twirling her red hair around her fingers, piling it up high on the top of her head and pushing one of the barbecue skewers through it to keep it in place. A few tendrils fell and bounced around her neck—she looked really glamorous and about seventeen. I wished I could do that with my hair—only it’s dark, reddish brown and really thick. If I tried to keep it on top of my head with a skewer, I’d have to hammer it into my skull. Which wouldn’t be such a good look, I’m thinking.
    â€œIt’s not just that,” interrupted Zoe, “Amber’s always losing things. I always told her she couldn’t be trusted with something so valuable.”
    â€œYou just love it, don’t you?” Amber exploded. “You always wanted Silver and said you’d look after him better than me, so now you’ve got your wish. Happy?”
    â€œWhat wish?”
    â€œYou told everyone I’d lose Silver, and now I have. You were right. You must be happy!”
    â€œEr, my mom’s got a new boyfriend—Andy,” I said, hoping to distract the pair of them. “Apparently, Mom’s very excited, says he might be The One, whatever that means.”
    â€œNew dad material?” asked Bean, eyeing up the sausages on the barbecue. She was keeping out of the Amber and Zoe argument and I didn’t blame her.
    â€œHope not!” I replied, “he hasn’t a hair on his head, apparently. Totally bald!”
    â€œOur dad’s bald,” said Amber. “As a coot!”
    â€œWhat’s a coot?” I asked.
    â€œNo idea!” laughed Amber. “But whatever it is, it must be bald.”
    â€œHey, Grace, have you heard from your mom?” Bean asked.
    Grace screwed up her face and nodded. “Yup,” she said, “but she can’t bully me over the phone, so I don’t mind.” Grace had lightened up considerably without her mom breathing down her neck, especially after jumping. She’d even picked out all of Shadow’s hooves without any help. Yesterday, she’d been convinced he would kick her to pieces if she went anywhere near a hoof. Today, she was trainee farrier material.
    â€œHow about you, Ellie?” asked Amber, eager to keep the conversation away from her dreaded phone call home.
    And that’s when things went all weird. Ellie, who until now had been rather quiet, suddenly turned and fled toward the house like a swarm of bees was after her. Just like that. One minute she was there with us, chewing on a hunk of French bread like a dog with a bone, the next we were treated to a view of her back as she disappeared through the farmhouse door, wailing.
    â€œWhat just happened?” asked Zoe.
    â€œNo quite sure,” murmured Bean.
    â€œDo you think we ought to go after her?” Amber asked.
    â€œYou can if you want,” her sister replied.
    â€œI don’t know, she’s so moody. One minute she’s bragging about stuff we all know isn’t true, the next she’s sulking and quiet. She gives me the creeps,” said Amber. “You go.”
    Mrs. Reeve returned, puffing, with a bag of charcoal. Of course, she asked where Ellie was. So we told her. And then it was Mrs. Reeve’s turn to go all weird.
    â€œWhat did you do?” she asked earnestly, like we’d attacked Ellie with a bread roll or something.
    â€œNothing!”