Weddings and Wishes Read online

  First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2021

  Published in this ebook edition in 2021

  HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of

  HarperCollins Publishers

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  Text copyright © Stacy Gregg 2021

  Illustrations copyright © Crush Creative 2021

  Cover design copyright © HarperCollinsPublishers 2021

  Stacy Gregg and Crush Creative assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

  Source ISBN: 9780008402938

  Ebook Edition © July 2021 ISBN: 9780008402945

  Version: 2021-06-23

  For Hilda and Buddy

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Next in the Series …

  Keep Reading …

  About the Author

  Books by Stacy Gregg

  About the Publisher

  Summoning a new pony was always a magical moment at Spellbound Stables. Olivia had woken early that morning, ready to meet her friend, Eliza, at the yard. Except …

  ‘Muuuummm!’ Olivia wailed. ‘I can’t find my jodhpurs! Where are they?’

  Mrs Campbell stuck her head round the corner of the door. ‘Livvy! How on earth do you expect to find anything in here? Clean your room! I’ve been asking you to do it for weeks.’

  ‘I’m going to do it later!’ Olivia insisted. ‘But I need to get to the stables first!’

  ‘What could possibly be going on at an old abandoned stables that suddenly requires such immediate attention?’ Mrs Campbell snapped. ‘Really, Olivia! Stop endlessly wiggling out of it – stay at home and CLEAN. YOUR. ROOM!’

  Mrs Campbell left Olivia to it, shutting the bedroom door firmly behind her.

  ‘She’s such a grump!’ Olivia muttered and then began flitting madly about the room, grabbing grubby laundry off the floor. She tried to shove the dirty clothes under her bed – only to find that it was crammed tight under there already!

  ‘Rats! No room!’ Olivia lugged the pile over to the wardrobe but when she opened the doors an avalanche of unwashed socks and gym gear tumbled out.

  Olivia groaned. Now the mess looked even worse than before! And the clock on the wall had just struck nine. Olivia looked around at the utter chaos and knew she had no choice. There was no way she’d get the room clean in time; the only way out without her mum seeing was via the window.

  A moment later, she clambered out and dropped down to the garden path, slinking alongside the house. In the kitchen she could hear her mum rattling pans and she scuttled like a beetle all the way to the garden gate and then out and along behind the hedge until she reached the lane.

  Running to the end of her cul-de-sac, she turned down a pebbled lane, and there at the end were the grand old ivy-covered stone buildings of Pemberley Stables.

  The stables were very ancient and the front doors had been locked tight, forbidding entry to all who tried to get in. For Olivia, though, they slid apart easily upon her touch, and she slipped hastily inside.

  ‘Eliza?’ Olivia hissed into the gloom. ‘It’s me! Where are you …?’

  At the sound of Olivia’s voice there was an urgent stamp of hooves on straw and two ponies appeared, thrusting their magnificent heads over the doors of the first two looseboxes.

  Olivia felt her heart skip at the sight of them. ‘Darling Bess!’ she said, hugging the first pony, a beautiful jet-black mare, who nickered with joy as they embraced. ‘And my handsome Prince!’ Olivia turned to stroke the dapple-grey gelding in the next stall as he shook his mane and snorted, his deep liquid-brown eyes trained on the dark-haired girl.

  ‘Hello, my lovelies,’ Olivia cooed. ‘Have you seen Eliza anywhere?’

  ‘I’m here!’ said Eliza.

  ‘Yikes!’ Olivia shrieked. From out of nowhere a girl had appeared in the dark corridor behind her. She wore an antique nightgown, pale white against her ivory skin. She had bright green eyes and long curly red hair piled up in a messy bun. She looked about the same age as Olivia, which was nine. But Eliza was quite a bit older than that. Two hundred and nine, in fact!

  ‘How many times have I asked you not to do that?’ Olivia said.

  Eliza giggled. ‘Sorry – I didn’t mean to spook you.’

  Olivia smiled. ‘It’s okay. I guess it’s to be expected when you’re best friends with a ghost.’

  ‘You’re awfully late!’ Eliza pointed out. ‘I was getting worried you weren’t going to come today.’

  ‘Sorry! It was Mum’s fault! But I’m here now. Are you ready to go on another adventure?’

  Olivia definitely was. After all, it was up to them to break the spell cast over the stables two hundred years ago by the Pemberley Witch. It was this spell that had once cursed Bess and Prince to each be naughty in their own way – Bad Bess the highway horse had been a thief and Prince had been greedy.

  For the other ponies the spell remained binding until the girls could set them free.

  The words of the curse were written in the stone of the stable walls beneath the overgrown ivy by the front door:

  ‘Umm, about the summoning, Livvy … I have something to tell you …’ Eliza said nervously.

  ‘What is it? Is there a …?’ Olivia began, but before she could say anything more she was interrupted by some very strange sounds coming from behind the third door along the corridor.

  ‘Oh, darling prince! Mwah-mwah! Ooooh, nuptials is near!’

  ‘What on earth was that?’ asked Olivia.

  ‘Ah, see, that’s what I need to tell you.’ Eliza shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. ‘Because, you know, you were running late, and I was only fooling around but—’

  ‘Whinny, whinny, babes! Ding-dong! Wedding bells!’

  ‘Oh my sweet potatoes!’ said Olivia. ‘What is that?’

  ‘That,’ said Eliza with a sigh, ‘is Sparkle.’

  ‘Sparkle?’ Olivia was baffled now. ‘What’s a Sparkle?’

  ‘Sparkle is our next Spellbound pony,’ Eliza said. ‘While I was waiting for you to arrive I saw her name materialise on the door and I must have spoken it out loud as I stumbled over the threshold and triggered the summoning by mistake, and now she’s in already in there … and, well, she’s not at all what I expected!’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Olivia said.

  ‘You’ll see,’ Eliza said. ‘But be prepared! That witch’s curse has done its worst and Sparkle is the most Spellbound pony we’ve encountered yet. I don’t know if we can fix this one.’

  ‘There
’s only one way to find out,’ Olivia replied.

  Eliza grinned. ‘Are you ready to step inside the stall and meet our newest Spellbound pony?’

  Olivia blinked in the darkness. ‘Ooh, I’m blind as a bat! Where are the lights?’ She flicked on the switch and gasped. ‘Eliza? Where on earth is the pony? She’s gone!’

  The stall was completely empty … except for a giant heap of muck that had been dumped right in the middle of the room on top of the straw.

  Eliza groaned. ‘She’s not gone at all. You’re looking straight at her!’

  And then Olivia saw that the mud heap was wobbling a little. Not just wobbling, but kind of jiggling and then … it spoke!

  ‘Hello, babes!’ the mud heap trilled.

  ‘Eek!’ Olivia shrieked. ‘The mud just spoke to me!’

  The mud heap began jiggling even harder at this and a cloud of dust rose up as it gave a tinkling laugh.

  ‘Oh, babes! Me a mud ’eap? You must be joking! Whatever are you on about?’ The mud heap moved closer to Olivia and out of the gloom of the stall and now she could see that it had legs! And eyes, and a muzzle!

  ‘Livvy,’ said Eliza with a sigh, ‘this is Sparkle.’

  ‘You mean underneath all that mud is a pony?’ Olivia gasped.

  ‘She never used to be like this,’ Eliza said. ‘I can remember her well.’

  Olivia nodded. Of course Eliza would know what the pony had been like. They had once been her very own ponies – until the day she’d had a fateful fall from her beloved pony, Chessie. Heartbroken, her mother, Lady Luella, called upon the Pemberley Witch to put a curse on the ponies to punish them and they had been trapped in time.

  ‘When Sparkle was a real-life pony she was brilliant white, well groomed and with a silken mane and a lustrous tail that were the envy of all,’ Eliza went on.

  ‘Poor Sparkle!’ Olivia said. ‘The Pemberley Witch has turned her into a mud-caked mess!’

  ‘Oooh, babes, don’t worry.’ Sparkle shook her dusty mane. ‘You took Sparkle by surprise is all. Give me a quick minute to fix myself up a bit …’

  The mud heap shambled off to the other side of the stall and dug about in the hay, and when she returned there was a tiara stuck sideways in her forelock and she had drawn all over her grubby muzzle with bright pink lipstick.

  ‘There!’ Sparkle said. ‘Sparkle’s all gorgey-porgey now! What do you reckon?’

  ‘Uhhh, much better?’ Olivia still couldn’t quite believe her eyes.

  ‘Come in, come in, and make yourself comfy!’ Sparkle swished the muddy thicket that passed for her tail and gestured for Olivia and Eliza to join her.

  ‘Sit down! Sit down!’ Sparkle beckoned, and Olivia noticed now that the stall was more like a teenager’s bedroom than a stable. There was a bed with a duvet with hearts and crowns all over it and the walls were smothered in pictures torn from magazines.

  ‘This looks exactly like my sister Ella’s bedroom!’ Olivia said.

  The posters on the walls all seemed to be of the same blond-haired boy. In the photos he was often doing very dashing things like sailing a ship or sword fighting or horse riding.

  ‘Who’s that boy?’ she asked.

  Sparkle chortled. ‘Livvy, Livvy, Livvy! You’ve been living under a rock, babes! You must know Prince Patrick!’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t …’ Olivia replied. ‘But you seem to like him a lot!’

  ‘Oh, everyone loves Patrick,’ Eliza agreed. ‘He’s very popular. Handsome, charming – you know, the usual stuff.’

  ‘He’s a dashing prince!’ Sparkle confirmed. ‘And now he’s getting married!’

  ‘So there’s going to be a royal wedding,’ Eliza said. ‘And who is the bride?’

  ‘Why the princess-to-be is Lady Petronella!’ Sparkle cried. ‘It’s been in all the papers! They’re completely over the moon in love! It’s going to be the most amazey-mazey wedding dazey! I simply cannot wait! I am all lovey-la-la! Ding-dong! Wedding bells! Huzzah!’

  Sparkle began rushing around her stall now, sticking her muzzle up against the posters and smothering the prince with sloppy pink-lipstick kisses and pony slobber. ‘Mwah! Mwah!’

  ‘Sparkle,’ Eliza said, ‘maybe you should calm down a bit?’

  ‘He gave her a diamond ring and they’ve announced the date!’ Sparkle trilled. ‘Ding-dong! Hear those wedding bells ring!’

  Olivia was confused. ‘I’m sure it’s going to be very lovely for both of them, but what does this wedding have to do with you, Sparkle?’

  ‘Duh! You are joking, right?’ Sparkle chortled. ‘It has everything to do with Sparkle! Don’t you see, babes? I’m the pony that Lady Petronella is going to ride in the royal wedding procession!’

  ‘You?’ Olivia boggled.

  ‘Me!’ Sparkle said proudly. ‘Sparkle’s going to be the star of the whole thing! All the other ponies are going to be well jel when they see me in the procession!’

  Olivia looked long and hard at the mud heap on four legs in front of her. ‘Hmmmm, really Sparkle? The princess-to-be chose you?’

  ‘Well, not yet, babes!’ Sparkle said. ‘But she will! I’ve filled in the application form. And now Lady Petronella and her beloved Prince Patrick are on their way here to inspect me!’

  ‘What?!’ Olivia squeaked. ‘Please tell me you’re joking, Sparkle!’

  ‘Sparkle never jokes, babes,’ the pony trilled. ‘Their Royal Highnesses are going to be here any minute now!’

  ‘That’s it!’ Olivia said. ‘Eliza! I think I know what we need to do to break the witch’s spell. Sparkle must have been cursed to be messy. We must convince her to tidy up her act so that Lady Petronella chooses her to be in the royal wedding procession and the spell will be broken.’

  ‘Yes,’ Eliza agreed. ‘Good idea, Livvy. Except …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Sparkle is a mud heap,’ Eliza said.

  There was the blare of trumpets outside.

  ‘And the princess-to-be is already here!’

  From outside the stall was the sound of trumpets and a spooky enchanted mist began to seep in.

  Olivia felt her heart hammering. ‘Oh no! Quick! Sparkle, we have to get you cleaned up!’

  ‘There’s no time!’ Eliza said.

  Olivia grabbed Sparkle by the halter. ‘We have to at least try.’

  ‘Steady on, babes!’ Sparkle trilled. ‘There’s no need to fuss. I’ll slap on some lippy and a spritz of perfume and that’ll do the trick!’

  ‘No, Sparkle!’ Olivia grunted as she pulled at the pony’s halter. ‘You need a proper clean-up with soap and water!’

  At these words Sparkle began to tremble. ‘You mean a … a … bath?’

  ‘That’s right!’ Olivia sang. ‘It’s bath day, Sparkle! Happy bath day! Happy bath day to you!’

  ‘Not likely, babes!’ Sparkle gave a swish of her tail. ‘Sparkle’s on the trot!’

  And suddenly Sparkle wasn’t there any more. She had magically slipped out of her halter and bolted clean through the wall of her stall!

  ‘Ummm, Livvy?’ Eliza said.

  ‘What?’ Olivia replied.

  ‘She’s gone.’

  Olivia sighed. ‘I can see that! I’d forgotten that the Spellbound ponies had the power to turn all spooky and whoosh through walls like that.’

  ‘She really didn’t want to have that bath, did she?’

  ‘It’s the witch’s spell,’ Olivia said. ‘Sparkle doesn’t realise she’s enchanted. We’ll have to find her and convince her to let us clean her before—’

  Tan-ta-ta-ran-tan-ta-raaaaah!

  ‘Too late,’ Eliza said. ‘Look!’

  Through the stable doors came a marching band of royal trumpeters, followed by footmen in smart uniforms unfurling a red carpet in front of them across the stable floor.

  The head footman stepped forward and cleared his throat. ‘May I have your attention please? Announcing His Royal Highness Prince Patrick and his princess-to-be Lady Petronella
!’

  The trumpets blarted again and, amid a silvery swirl of enchanted mist, Prince Patrick, dashing in his red and gold-braided uniform, strode down the carpet with his bride-to-be at his side.

  ‘Oooh,’ Eliza said, sighing. ‘The prince really is awfully handsome, isn’t he? I can see why Sparkle has such a crush.’

  ‘And Sparkle was right about Lady Petronella too,’ Olivia said. ‘She’s very beautiful.’

  Lady Petronella had long golden hair that fell in glossy waves past her shoulders and she was dressed in a turquoise-blue gown that matched her eyes. She clutched Prince Patrick fiercely by the arm as she gazed up at him adoringly.

  ‘Patrick-wattrick,’ she cooed. ‘How sweet of you to come with me and look at ponies.’

  ‘Well, you did insist, my lovely princess-to-be!’ Patrick laughed nervously and Olivia couldn’t help noticing that he managed to squirm out from her vice-like grip. ‘You said you wanted every tiny, tiny detail of our wedding day to be absolutely right, and that you need the perfect pony for you to ride. Well, here we are, and I’m sure you’ll be happy – Pemberley Stables has the very best ponies in the land.’

  Lady Petronella turned her laser gaze from the prince and locked her blue eyes on to Olivia and Eliza. Her charming smile instantly vanished and her face became sullen and frowny.

  ‘Well? Where’s this wedding pony then?’ she snarled. ‘I haven’t got all day! I’ve got such a long to-do list! There’s the dress fitting after this – the dim-witted seamstress still can’t get my sleeves puffy enough! And then there’s the wedding flowers for the bouquet, which are a complete disaster! Not enough roses and lilies! And the wedding cake tastes of too much fruit! Oh, it’s all wrong, wrong, wrong!’

  ‘Hmmm, yes, weddings can be so tricky, can’t they?’ Eliza spoke carefully. ‘And I do so hate to add to your problems, Your Almost Highness, but …’

  Petronella’s eyes narrowed. ‘But what? Don’t tell me there’s something wrong with my pony?’

  ‘No!’ Olivia leaped forward. ‘No. Nothing wrong at all, Lady Petronella. Your pony, Sparkle, is utterly fabulous. It’s just that we were thinking it would be best if you came back another time to see her.’