On the day of the party, Angela’s dad dropped her off at the riding stables. Angela could hardly contain her excitement. She couldn’t wait to see which pony she would be riding.
Tiffany and the other girls were already in the yard with Mrs Charmers. Angela recognized Sophie, Alice and Suki from her class. Her face fell when she saw that they were all wearing black hats, short jackets and smart cream jodhpurs. Angela was the only one dressed in old jeans and dirty wellies.
Tiffany shook her curly hair. “Oh Ang-er-la!” she sighed. “Didn’t you read the invitation? It said come in riding clothes.”
“But these are my riding clothes,” said Angela.
“Jeans and wellies?” laughed Alice.
“And where’s your riding hat?” asked Suki. “You can’t ride without one.”
“She can’t help it,” said Tiffany. “She doesn’t even go riding, do you Ang-er-la?”
Angela hung her head. Why hadn’t anyone warned her that wearing riding clothes mattered so much? Now she was the odd one out. And to make matters worse, it was obvious she was the only beginner. Angela wondered if that was why Tiffany had invited her in the first place – so they’d all have someone to laugh at.
“Never mind! You’ll have to do,” sighed Tiffany. “Come on, we’ll find you a riding hat.”
The girls trooped off to the stables. Angela had to borrow a hat. It was far too big and kept slipping down over her eyes.
Then it was time to saddle the horses. Mrs Charmers helped Tiffany with her little white pony.
“Daddy bought me Princess,” Tiffany boasted. “She cost thousands but I just had to have her.”
The other girls were all riding their favourite ponies. They had names like Blossom, Poppy and Bilbo. Angela stood helplessly watching them do complicated things with buckles and stirrups.
Tiffany put one foot in her stirrup and climbed on to Princess’s back.
“Wait a minute, what about Angela?” said Mrs Charmers. “Which horse is she going to ride?”
The girls all looked at Angela. She certainly wasn’t borrowing one of their horses.
“Who’s left?” asked Alice.
“I know!” cried Tiffany. “Dobbin! He’d be perfect for you, Angela.”
The other girls dissolved into giggles.
“Which one’s Dobbin?” asked Angela, looking round.
One of the stable hands, Linda, went and brought him out. Angela stared. Dobbin wasn’t a pony, he was a horse. A grey carthorse as big as a barn with ginormous hooves!
“But … but I can’t ride him!” spluttered Angela.
“Of course you can,” laughed Tiffany. “Anyone can ride Dobbin, even you, Ang-er-la!”
Angela thought that was easy for Tiffany to say. Princess was as dainty as a buttercup. Angela was going to need a stepladder to even get on Dobbin’s back.