Prize Problems Read Online Free Page A

make friends with Grace and Ellie—and Annabelle’s there too. They’re all dying to meet you!”
    â€œGood-bye, Charlotte,” said Mrs. Beanie, leaning down to kiss Bean on the cheek.
    â€œHave a good time—and you Pia,” her father said gruffly, glancing at his watch.
    â€œThank you Mr. Beanie,” I said. “And thank you very much for letting me come on this vacation with Be—Charlotte.”
    Bean’s mother smiled. “You’re very welcome, Pia. I hope you both have a lovely time. Don’t forget to clean your teeth thoroughly every night, Charlotte, will you?”
    We fled to the stable yard. Stables filled two sides of it; the third had doors marked tack room, feed room and chill-out room; the fence and gate filled the last.
    As the gate clicked shut a tall young woman wearing a lemon-colored polo shirt, checked jodhpurs and long boots appeared from the chill-out room. Her auburn hair was tied back and she wore quite a lot of eye make-up. She looked too clean to be on a stable yard. She looked a bit like she ought to have been on the TV instead, talking about the weather. Or, as my dad always complains, lying about the weather.
    â€œHello girls!” she called, smiling earnestly. “I’m Annabelle, so if you want to know anything, just ask me. You must be Zoe and Amber!”
    â€œNo, we’re still not them,” said Bean a bit testily. “I’m Bean and this is Pia.”
    Annabelle’s smile froze and she tilted her head on one side and blinked rapidly in confusion. Clearly, she didn’t take too well to being wrong. “Bean?” she said, frowning, “I thought Charlotte was coming with Pia.”
    â€œI’m Charlotte, but everyone calls me Bean.”
    â€œYour parents don’t,” I hissed.
    â€œThey don’t count,” Bean hissed back.
    â€œWell, come and meet Ellie and Grace,” said Annabelle, waving us over, her smile resurrected. “They’re dying to meet you!”
    A girl with very long brown hair appeared at the door. She wore jodhpurs and a bright pink polo shirt and she gave us a rather disinterested once-over. It didn’t seem like she was dying to meet us.
    â€œThis is Ellie,” explained Annabelle, beaming at us.
    â€œAnd this is Grace,” said another, much larger woman, emerging from the gloom with a girl who was her in miniature. Grace had very fine, very blond shoulder-length hair, a strand of which snaked into her mouth. Totally not dying to meet us, too.
    â€œDon’t do that, Grace,” the woman said. “Honestly,” she said to no one, or possibly everyone, “she’s always sucking on her hair.”
    Grace didn’t say anything as her mouth was full. We supposed the woman was her mother.
    â€œHave you got your own ponies?” Ellie asked, flicking her long hair back behind her shoulders. Her very blue eyes peered out from under her bangs like two cornflowers under a hedge.
    â€œYes,” I gulped, remembering my wonderful (albeit rose-tinted) Drummer and wishing he was with me. “Drum’s a bay, all over, no white on him whatsoever. Look, I’ve got a picture of him on my phone.” I found my favorite photo of Drum with his ears forward, smiling for the camera.
    â€œHe looks very nice,” Grace said shyly.
    Her mom peered over her shoulder to take a look. “Part Arab,” she snapped, matter-of-factly. I nodded.
    â€œAnd this is Tiffany,” said Bean, wielding her phone like a light saber. “She’s a bit nervous, but she’s got a heart to match her color.”
    Ellie looked blank.
    â€œGold,” Bean explained.
    â€œI’m getting a pony, soon. A show jumper,” Ellie told us.
    â€œFantastic!” I said. I mean, what’s more exciting?
    â€œHave you got a pony, Grace?” asked Bean.
    Grace didn’t get a chance to answer—her mother swooped in like a