Sleepover Girls on Horseback. Fiona Cummings

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СКАЧАТЬ to EuroDisney. I’d just like to go to Disneyland in America to see if it’s any different, that’s all!”

      “Ooh! Hark at her!” we all screeched together, pulling faces at each other.

      Fliss hates it when we make fun of her, even though she usually deserves it. She flung her pencil case at Kenny and all her felt pens sort of burst out, scattering around the kitchen. We all creased up and scrambled on to the floor to pick them up. We were scrabbling about under the table, when we heard the front door close.

      “That’ll be Mum and Adam,” said Rosie.

      We waited for Adam to burst into the kitchen in his wheelchair like he usually did. But he didn’t. All we could hear were lots of strange wailing sounds coming from the hall.

      “Oh no!” gasped Rosie. “That’s Adam. It sounds like he’s really upset about something.”

      We rushed into the hall to see what was wrong. Rosie’s mum was crouched over Adam, trying to calm him down, but we could tell just by looking at him that something awful had happened.

      “What is it, Mum? What’s wrong?” asked Rosie anxiously. “Is Adam OK?”

      Her mum nodded, but carried on stroking Adam’s arm. “He’s just heard some bad news,” she said softly.

      “What sort of bad news?” shrieked Rosie. She’d gone completely white and her eyes looked as though they were going to burst out of her head. The rest of us sort of hung back in case it was a private thing.

      “We’ve just heard that there’s been a very bad fire at the riding school,” said Rosie’s mum.

      “Oh no!” I gasped. For a minute I felt as though I couldn’t breathe. I sat down on the stairs. “What happened? Are the horses safe?” I asked. My voice sounded kind of wobbly. It didn’t sound like my voice at all.

      “Yes, Lyndz, the horses were in the fields when it happened. And they’re all perfectly safe.”

      “What about Mrs McAllister, is she all right?” asked Frankie.

      “Yes, everyone is fine, thank goodness,” sighed Mrs Cartwright. “It could have been much worse. Just imagine what would have happened if the horses had been in the stables when the fire started.”

      I didn’t want to imagine that. All I could think of was Marvel and Alfie and Bramble and all the other beautiful horses. What was going to happen to them now? It felt like the worst day of my life.

      When Rosie’s mum had taken Adam upstairs for his bath, we went back into the kitchen. It was as though a huge grey blanket of sadness had been dropped on top of us. Nobody spoke for ages.

      “There must be something we can do to help,” I said suddenly. I couldn’t bear the silence any longer and just thinking that we could be useful in some way made me feel a bit better. “Let’s go to the stables and see what we can do.”

      “Shouldn’t we call Mrs McAllister first?” asked Fliss. “Maybe she won’t want anyone there.”

      “Fliss is right,” agreed Frankie. “Why don’t you ring Mrs McAllister when you get home, Lyndz, and if she wants us to help, we’ll all come to the stables with you later in the week, won’t we?”

      Everyone nodded. Everyone except Fliss.

      “You’ll come and help too, won’t you, Fliss?” Frankie dug her hard in the ribs.

      “Ouch! I suppose so. But I don’t want to go anywhere near the horses,” said Fliss, rubbing her side.

      “OK, that’s agreed. You check things with Mrs McAllister, Lyndz. Then it’s the Sleepover Club to the rescue!” laughed Kenny and pretended to play a fanfare.

      We all laughed too. It sounded like one of our silly jokes. Only this time it was real.

      

      “Well, what did she say?” The others crowded round me when I got to school the next day.

      “Who?” I pretended to look blank, but I couldn’t fool them.

      “Mrs McAllister of course! Come on, Lyndz. Spill!” commanded Frankie.

      “Mum rang her for me,” I admitted. “She thought that Mrs McAllister might be in a state of shock.”

      Kenny’s eyes lit up at the thought of some medical-type complaint to deal with.

      “And was she?” she asked eagerly.

      “Nope, it sounded like she was very calm actually,” I said.

      Kenny looked disappointed.

      “When did the fire start?” asked Frankie, getting down to serious matters.

      “Quite early in the morning. The horses were in the fields and Mrs McAllister had gone to check on them,” I explained. “She said that something caught her eye. She looked up and saw smoke coming from the stable block. She ran back to see what was happening, but when she got there, three of the stables had burnt completely and the roofs on the others were still burning. She called the fire brigade, grabbed the fire extinguishers, and put out what she could.”

      “But what caused the fire to start in the first place?” asked Fliss.

      “Mrs McAllister doesn’t know for sure. She thinks a delivery man must have dropped a cigarette,” I told them. “There are huge ‘No Smoking’ signs all around the stables – how could anyone be so careless?” I looked round and realised that for once I had everyone’s attention. And knowing the Sleepover Club you realise what a miracle that is. We usually all chatter at once.

      “Do you think someone did it on purpose?” asked Kenny suddenly. “Someone might want to get rid of the riding school! Maybe the owner of a rival stables is trying to close down all the competition so everyone will have to go to them for riding lessons.”

      Uh-oh! Kenny was on one of her fantasy trips again.

      “Get real!” laughed Frankie. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we live in Cuddington, not Hollywood. Things like that don’t happen around here.”

      The others started to laugh and tease Kenny.

      “Hey, Lyndz, are you all right?” asked Rosie. “You’ve gone very quiet.”

      I’d tried to be bright and happy and everything. But I kept thinking of something else that mum had said last night. She’d asked Mrs McAllister where the horses were being kept.

      “On Mr Brocklehurst’s farm – for the moment,” she’d told her.

      That was great news for me, because my brother, Stuart, helps out there. And the horses have always grazed in some of Mr Brocklehurst’s fields anyway.

      “Aw, СКАЧАТЬ