by Stacy Gregg
‘The next bit will be the fun part!’ Eliza said, grinning. ‘And I can help. I’m an expert on plaiting and primping. We need to pull out every trick we’ve got to make Sparkle look truly amazing so the princess-to-be will choose her for the royal procession.’
‘We must give her the WOW factor,’ Olivia agreed.
‘Be here bright and early in the morning,’ Eliza said, waving goodbye.
‘Ta-ra, babes!’ Sparkle cooed.
As Olivia walked down the lane, weary to the bone, she was certain tomorrow would be a triumph.
Olivia bounded into the house without bothering to take off her mud-covered wellies. She stomped through the kitchen spreading dirty footprints. Her mum was nowhere to be seen.
‘Whew!’ Olivia sighed. ‘I really couldn’t cope with being told off right now!’
She opened her bedroom door.
‘Hello, Livvy.’
Mrs Campbell was standing in the middle of the messy room.
‘You and I need to have a little talk.’
It was not a ‘little talk’ as it turned out. It was a very long rant.
‘I’ve had enough, Olivia!’ Mrs Campbell fumed. And Olivia knew it was serious because her mum had used her full name, which she only did when she was really cross. ‘I’ve asked you a million times to clean your bedroom and you keep wiggling out of it. And speaking of wiggling out of things – I went to move the pizza box you’d left on the floor and there is a family of mice living in it!’
‘I’m going to clean it!’ Olivia objected. ‘Honest!’
‘Then get cracking!’ Mrs Campbell said. ‘Right now!’
‘Now?’ Olivia groaned. ‘Mum! I’m exhausted!’
‘Exhausted? From what?’ Mrs Campbell narrowed her eyes and Olivia realised she had no excuse. She couldn’t tell her mum that she’d just spent the entire morning washing a magical pony with her best friend, a two-hundred-year-old ghost. There was nothing else for it. She took off her wellies and rolled up her sleeves again. It was time to clean.
For the rest of the afternoon Olivia sorted her way through the piles of clothes on her floor. But by dinner time she still couldn’t see the carpet.
‘You’ve been at it a while. How’s it going in there?’ her mum asked as she served up schnitzel and mashed potatoes.
‘There’s too much to do!’ Olivia moaned. ‘I’ll never get it done in time.’
‘You know,’ Mrs Campbell said, ‘if you kept your room tidy in the first place, you wouldn’t be in this pickle.’
‘I hear there was a family of mice living a pizza box,’ Ella said smugly. ‘I keep my bedroom tidy. There are no hidden secrets in my room.’
Olivia put down her knife and fork in shock. ‘That’s it!’ she said. ‘There is a hidden secret in my bedroom!’
Mrs Campbell groaned. ‘Not more mice!’
Olivia gobbled the rest of her dinner and returned to her room in great excitement. In all the mess she had created she had totally lost track of her things, and she kept unearthing treasures. But there was one secret treasure that still remained hidden. It was a golden box and she hadn’t laid eyes on it since her eighth birthday.
‘But it has to be here somewhere,’ Olivia said. ‘It has to be!’
Yet as she sorted her toys and folded her clothes she began to give up hope.
It was after midnight, when Olivia was stacking away a pile of jumpers, that beneath them she saw … the golden box!
‘Please let it still be in here …’ she breathed.
She opened the box and clapped her hands with glee. ‘Oh yay! It’s all here! Oh yes! This is definitely going to help Sparkle win!’
Olivia closed the box again and locked it to keep it safe. Then she gazed with satisfaction around her now perfectly tidy room, and finally, exhausted by the day’s events, she tucked herself up in bed with the box held tight to her chest for safekeeping and fell asleep.
‘Well! I don’t believe it!’ Mrs Campbell looked around the bedroom approvingly. She had checked under the bed. She’d even looked in the wardrobe. It was true – Olivia’s bedroom really was tidy.
‘You’ve done an amazing job, Livvy! Your room looks the best it ever has!’
‘So can I go to the stables now?’ Olivia already had the golden box tucked under her arm.
‘I don’t see why not,’ Mrs Campbell said. ‘Just make sure to be back by—’
But Olivia had already gone.
Eliza was relieved to see her. ‘Livvy! Quick – we need to start. I’ve just heard that there’s an inspection of prospective ponies today at midday at the royal palace. We have to get Sparkle all plaited up and we don’t have much time.’ She looked at the box under Olivia’s arm. ‘What’s that?’
‘This box,’ said Olivia, ‘is our secret weapon. You remember yesterday you said we needed something special to make Sparkle stand out from the other ponies? Well, I’ve found it. Look inside.’ She opened the box for her.
‘Diamonds and pearls!’ Eliza cooed. ‘Is it pirate treasure?’
‘It’s better than that,’ Olivia said. ‘It’s a makeover kit.’ She tipped the contents of the box on to the stable straw. ‘There are glittery hairclips and shiny hair ribbons, pretty bows and diamante scrunchies,’ she said, sorting through the items. ‘I thought we could use them all in Sparkle’s mane and tail.’
‘Oooh yes!’ Eliza agreed. ‘This is exactly what I was talking about. With these jewels glittering against her white coat Sparkle will look perfect for a bride to ride.’
‘Ooooh, babes!’
It was Sparkle. She was standing in her stall and eyeing up the jewelled hairclips and bows that Eliza and Olivia had just brought in, which were now scattered across the floor.
‘Sparkle loves to accessorise!’ she cried. ‘Oh, Livvy, make me over, babes! The other ponies will be well jel when they see this!’
‘I’m going to need help from Eliza this time,’ Olivia said. ‘I don’t know how to plait a pony’s mane.’
Eliza smiled. ‘We’ll do it together. You’ll be my hands and I’ll guide you.’
And that was how they worked, Eliza explaining to Livvy how to section and divide the mane and braid it into tiny plaits and roll them into neat, tight rosettes. The hairclips secured each rosette with a diamond and pearl.
‘And for the tail,’ Olivia said, ‘we’ll need lots of white ribbons for the plait and then we can scatter crystals all through the strands so that Sparkle shimmers when she swishes it back and forth.’
‘Ooh, please hurry, babes!’ Sparkle snorted. ‘It’s almost midday. Sparkle needs to get to the palace on time!’
‘Done!’ Olivia cried at last. ‘That’s the last crystal! Is everything okay?’
‘There’s no time to check it!’ Eliza cried. ‘We need to go.’
The stall had filled with enchanted mist that was so dense it cloaked them all. When at last it cleared the girls and Sparkle were on the lawn of the royal palace and trumpets were blowing like mad.
A courtier was making an announcement. ‘All ponies line up! Her Royal Almostness the princess-to-be Petronella is about to arrive!’
There was nothing more Olivia could do. It was all up to Sparkle now. It was choosing time.
On to the front lawn of the palace the ponies trotted forth.
‘They all look so beautiful!’ Sparkle groaned. ‘Oh, Livvy, Eliza, do you really think Lady Petronella will choose me?’
‘Of course she will, Sparkle,’ Livvy said, trying to boost the pony’s confidence. In her heart, though, Olivia was worried too. She hadn’t expected such fierce competition.
‘They’re all such astonishing colours!’ she whispered to Eliza. ‘Look! There’s a pink pony with white socks, and a golden one with a crimson blaze.’
More colours came strutting out on to the lawn. A violet mare with a flaxen mane and tail and a dapple-blue pony with dark eyes and sooty socks. ‘Crikey!’ Olivia boggled. ‘I didn’t know ponies came in rainbow colours!’
‘They don’t!’ Eliza said. ‘I think they’ve had these colours painted on. I just wonder who could have done this …’
As she said this a hunting horn sounded and across the fields a rabble of unruly hounds came bounding. The hounds ducked and dived and scattered among the ponies, slobbering and baying as they raced across the palace lawn.
Following behind, riding on his horse, came the rotund red-coated figure of Horace the Hunt Master.
‘What’s he doing here?’ Olivia asked. ‘And what’s that weird thing he’s carrying? It looks a bit like a cannon!’
‘It’s a short, fat toy gun!’ Eliza said. ‘What do you suppose he’s going to do?
‘Oh no!’ Olivia said. ‘Eliza, I think the painted ponies are all Horace’s doing!’ She looked at the line-up. ‘And the only pony who isn’t painted yet is Sparkle.’
Horace had halted his horse now and had set about stuffing a bright green paint bomb into the gun.
‘Prepare to meet your painter, Sparkle!’ Horace chortled.
‘He’s going to turn me green!?’ Sparkle shrieked. ‘But I look terrible in green! It’s not my colour at all. I’ll never get chosen for the wedding if I look like a leprechaun!’
Sparkle began dashing back and forth, weaving in between the other ponies.
‘Stand still!’ Horace demanded. ‘Stop or I’ll … I’ll shoot!’
‘Keep running, Sparkle!’ Olivia and Eliza shouted. ‘He can’t use his gun if he can’t find his target!’
‘Huff … puff … Sparkle can’t keep this up …’ Sparkle panted. ‘Sparkle’s getting tired, babes …’
‘She’s slowing down,’ Eliza squeaked. ‘Oh no! And now Horace is taking aim!’
Horace had Sparkle in his sights. The gun was loaded. He pointed the barrel at her and pulled the trigger.
‘Sparkle! Noooooooo …!’
Olivia saw the paint ball fire out of the throat of the gun and Sparkle shut her eyes, ready to take the blow. But it never came. For at that very moment Olivia threw herself in front of the pony, taking the paint ball like a hero as it struck her squarely in her chest.
‘Oof!’ Olivia collapsed on the ground in a shower of green slime.
‘Livvy!’ Eliza shrieked and ran to her side. ‘Oh no! You’ve turned invisible!’
‘No I haven’t,’ Olivia replied. ‘I’m just the same colour as the lawn, that’s all.’
‘Oh yes!’ Eliza was relieved. ‘There you are! I see you now!’
Olivia sat up. ‘Where’s Sparkle? Is she okay?’
‘She escaped without a splash of paint!’ Eliza said. ‘And just in time because the princess-to-be has arrived.’
Tan-ta-ta-rah! Once again the trumpets were blaring as Lady Petronella stepped forth to begin her inspection.
‘Ooooh, I can’t look!’ Eliza whispered as Lady Petronella marched up and down the line, examining each pony in turn. Finally she stopped.
‘The pink pony!’ Lady Petronella said. And Olivia’s heart fell until she added, ‘The pink pony … is very pretty … but not at all the sort of colour I’d choose for my wedding. No! Dismiss the pink pony! In her place bring forth the golden pony and the dapple blue!’
Olivia’s heart was racing like mad.
‘The golden one is the same colour as my beautiful blonde hair,’ Lady Petronella said, holding up a mirror to admire her own hair, ‘and the dapple-blue one would match my eyes … and yet … no. They aren’t quite right …’
Lady Petronella went back to the row of ponies and this time her hand touched Sparkle’s muzzle.
‘A white pony in the exact same shade as my wedding gown! And look at the diamonds and pearls woven into the plaits on her spotless mane and the way the crystals shimmer like stars in her tail!’
Lady Petronella turned to her footman. ‘I choose the white one!’ she said. ‘Dismiss the rest. Have this pony taken into the palace and fitted in royal wedding finery. I shall ride her tomorrow in full bridal regalia for my SPECIAL DAY. Ummm, I mean … when I marry Prince Patrick.’
‘Yes, Your Almost Highness.’ The footman bowed and stepped up to take Sparkle by the reins.
‘Yaasss, queen!’ Sparkle hooted as they led her off towards the palace. ‘I’m the chosen one! Don’t wait up for me, Eliza and Livvy, babes. It’s a party at the palace and I’ll be home late!’
‘There she goes!’ Eliza trilled. ‘Sparkle the royal wedding pony. Oh, Livvy, we did it! We’ve beaten the curse of Spellbound Stables once more!’
‘Hmmm, but did we?’ Olivia said.
Eliza frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, usually when we help a pony to mend its ways, then the moment the curse is broken there’s a sudden blinding flash of golden light and, hey presto, they become a real-life pony again!’
‘Why yes, that is what usually occurs,’ Eliza agreed.
‘So why didn’t it happen this time?’ Olivia was confused.
‘Oh, I expect it’s just a formality,’ Eliza said breezily. ‘Spells are a very exact business and since Sparkle’s transformation is all about her wish to be a wedding pony I’m certain the spell will break when her wish comes true on the wedding day. You’ll see.’
‘I hope so,’ Olivia said. ‘All the same, I feel strangely anxious.’
‘Oh, don’t be!’ Eliza said. ‘Livvy, you worry too much. It’s all going perfectly to plan. Nothing can stop us now. You heard Lady Petronella. Tomorrow when the wedding bells ring at last Sparkle’s curse will truly be broken forever.’
It was the morning of the royal wedding. Olivia, who was now in possession of a very tidy bedroom, searched through her highly organised wardrobe, quickly found her jodhpurs and set off for the stables.
‘Sparkle, are you ready to go?’ she called out as she stepped into the Spellbound pony’s stall.
‘Close your eyes!’ It was Eliza.
‘Why?’
‘It’s a surprise,’ Eliza said.
Olivia reluctantly shut her eyes. ‘Okay.’
There was giggling and clomping about in the corridor.
‘You can open them now,’ Eliza trilled.
Olivia opened her eyes. ‘Wowsers!’ she cried.
Sparkle was standing in front of her and Olivia had never seen anything like it in her life. The pony was dressed with a tutu round her waist in thick frilly layers of snow-white tulle trimmed with gold. She wore gold booties on her hooves and her saddle was flounced with the plumes of white ostrich feathers that stuck out at the sides, giving the impression that she had wings. On her head were more plumes and attached to her bridle was a golden tiara hung with tulle that covered Sparkle’s muzzle.
‘It’s a bridle veil,’ Eliza pointed out.
Olivia rolled her eyes. ‘Very punny!’
‘Well, babes?’ Sparkle said anxiously. ‘Tell Sparkle the truth! Is it a bit much?’
‘Sparkle,’ Olivia said with a smile, ‘you look AMAZEY-MAZEY WEDDING DAZEY!’
Sparkle whinnied and kicked up her hooves in delight. She squealed with joy. ‘Oooh, I do, don’t I? Sparkle knew you’d love it! Oh, come on. Let’s go, Livvy, babes! It’s time! The wedding is about to begin!’
The two girls stepped into Sparkle’s stall and as the enchanted mist rose up around their ankles Sparkle began to hum. ‘Dum-dum-de-dum!’ she warbled. ‘Here comes the bride, taking me for a ride …’
And suddenly it wasn’t just Sparkle who was singing the tune. A string quartet was playing the wedding march. They had arrived.
‘Crikey!’ Olivia breathed. ‘This is unbelievable!’
They were inside the royal palace in what Olivia assumed must be the grand ballroom and everywhere you looked the place was in chaos.
‘Quick! More roses! More lilies!’ the florist was shouting.
‘More Chantilly cream! More vanilla sponge for the butterfly cake wings!’ the cake maker was crying.
‘Put more puff in those sleeves,’ the dressmaker was pleading with the seamstres
s. ‘And hurry up … she’s coming … she’s coming!’
‘Too late!’ the seamstress yelped. ‘She’s here!’
Into the room stormed Lady Petronella. She was so furious the air seemed to tremble around her as she thundered through the grand ballroom.
‘Footmen!’ she screamed. ‘Why am I on the grubby floor? Where is the red carpet that should be flung out in front of me to cushion my toesies?’
The footmen scurried forward to roll out the red carpet in her path and while they were still straightening the edges Lady Petronella stomped onwards, crushing the footmen’s hands beneath her heels as she walked over them.
‘Oww, owww, owww!’ the footmen said, wincing.
‘Oh, shut up, you big babies!’ Lady Petronella snapped at them. ‘And you!’ She turned on the florist. ‘Who told you to use lilies? Vulgar flowers! They’re not fit for an almost-princess like me!’
Lady Petronella stomped past the butterfly cakes and without pausing she began to pull the wings off all the butterflies. ‘Awful!’ she shrieked. ‘I despise Chantilly cream!’
The dressmaker was cowering as Petronella pulled on the wedding dress and stepped out of the dressing room to stare in the mirror. ‘Ugh. Still. Not. Puffy. Enough!’ Lady Petronella tugged cruelly at her sleeves. ‘I hate it. It’s utterly hideous – but it’s too late, so I suppose it will have to do!’
The dressmaker gave a quiet heart-wrenching sob. ‘My beautiful dress! It took six months to make it!’
‘Oh, who cares, crybaby?’ Lady Petronella laughed. ‘You’re all crybabies, the lot of you.’ She was still stomping along the red carpet and now she had reached Sparkle.
‘And you!’ She scowled at the pony. ‘Look at your wings and crown! You’re far too fabulous by far! You’re going to get all the attention and everyone will be looking at you when they should be staring at me, me, ME! This is my SPECIAL DAY and nobody should ever forget it!’