Free Pony Passion by Harriet Castor Page B

considering how grumpy I’d been. “I’ll ring you tomorrow,” I said to Rosie, who was the last to get back into the car.
    “You’d better,” she said, and grinned.
    When I got in I went straight to my room and flung myself down on my bed. In a way, going to the Wentworth Show had made it all worse. It had brought home to me how much had changed. A few weeks ago I would have been so excited, sitting at the show thinking, “I’m going to do that one day.” Today, watching those gorgeous horses had just made me feel like a wimp and a failure.
    I sat up, and looked round at my horse posters on the walls, and the pile of pony magazines by my bed. Even they had changed. My favourite belongings had become horrible reminders of what I couldn’t do any more. I felt like tearing them into tiny shreds.
    But I didn’t. One by one, carefully, I took myposters down and folded them on top of the magazines. Then I pushed the whole lot deep into the dusty shadows under my bed. Burying my face in the duvet, I burst into tears.
    The next morning, as promised, I rang Rosie. “I’m so sorry about yesterday,” I said. “I hope I didn’t spoil it for everyone else.”
    “You didn’t spoil it,” said Rosie. “We were worried about you, that’s all. How – er…” She hesitated.
    “How am I?” I said, almost laughing. “You’re allowed to ask, you know! I’m OK. Much better.”
    “That’s brilliant!” She sounded really relieved.
    “Listen, I’m going to the stables this afternoon,” I said, “and I wondered if you’d mind coming too? I want to give back the riding hat Mrs McAllister lent me yonks ago. And…” Now it was my turn to hesitate, “…and I want to say goodbye to the ponies.”
    “Say goodbye?” said Rosie, sounding concerned again. “But you can carry on seeing them, can’tyou? Lyndz, you know how much you love Bramble and the others!”
    I was not going to cry. I was not. I swallowed hard and said, “Yes, I know. But if I can’t ride, going there will just make me feel sad. The ponies have lots of other people to love them and take care of them. They won’t miss me.”
    “I bet they will—” began Rosie. But then she stopped herself and said, “Of course we’ll go with you. All of us. I’ll ring the others. The Sleepover Club sticks together through thick and thin!”
    I was glad Rosie had said yes. If she and the others were with me, I’d have to hold myself together.
    They turned up straight after lunch, Frankie and Kenny in one car, and Rosie and Fliss in another.
    “I’ve persuaded Mum and Dad that we should have a big slap-up tea when we get back,” I said, showing off the carrier bag full of mini-rolls, muffins and Battenburg cake (my favourite!) that Dad had just lugged back from the supermarket.
    “Lip-smackin’ good!” said Kenny in her bestcowgirl voice. “Can we have a little something for the road?”
    “No, you can’t!” laughed Dad, snatching the bag from me in the nick of time. “I’ll see you later, gang. Now, shoo!”
    We walked to the stables, which didn’t take long. As we turned the corner into the lane, I could see that Bramble was on her own in one of Mr Brocklehurst’s fields.
    “Do you want me to run and ask Mrs McAllister for the padlock key?” asked Rosie. She knew that the gates to all the fields are kept firmly locked.
    I shook my head. “It’s a combination lock, this one,” I said, “and I know the number off by heart.”
    “Go on, then,” said Rosie softly. “We’ll wait for you in the yard.”
    So, while my friends headed on towards the stable buildings, I trudged over to the gate, and a minute later I was in the field.
    Bramble lifted her head and came trotting to meet me. I’d brought some pony nuts, so I fished them out of my pocket.
    “Hey, Bramble,” I said, holding out my hand for her. When she’d finished eating, I laid my cheek against her neck, drinking in the familiar smell of her beautiful clean coat. I felt hot