Flame and the Rebel Riders. Stacy Gregg
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Flame and the
Rebel Riders
STACY GREGG
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2010. HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd, HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
Text copyright © Stacy Gregg 2010
Cover design copyright © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020 Cover photography © Shutterstock.com CBBC logo © British Broadcasting Corporation 2016
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of the work.
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Source ISBN: 9780007299294
Ebook Edition © 2010 ISBN: 9780007358267
Version: 2020-08-18
Contents
The envelope in the schoolbag didn’t look like it could cause any trouble. It was a plain envelope, with no airs or graces about it, brown and slender with just two words written on the front in felt tip: Isadora Brown.
Issie had shoved the envelope into her schoolbag and promptly forgotten about it. It had nestled overnight beside her pencil case, getting squashed by her school jumper, and might have stayed hidden there if her mum hadn’t opened the bag to get her lunchbox out.
“What’s this?” Mrs Brown asked, picking the envelope up off the floor.
“My end-of-year report. You have to sign it so I can take it back to school,” Issie said, glancing at the envelope as she picked up the last piece of toast on her plate and stood up from the table. “Thanks for breakfast, Mum,” she called over her shoulder as she hurried out of the kitchen with the toast in hand, heading for the laundry. It was seven thirty and Issie was running late. Today was pony-club rally day and Tom Avery, Chevalier Point’s head instructor, had offered to pick up the girls and their horses in his truck from the River Paddock at eight. Stella and Kate would already be there by now, grooming and bandaging their horses. And Issie was still in her pyjamas!
“Have you seen my white jodhpurs?” she shouted out to her mum from the laundry. “You know, the good ones? They’re not in my room…”
Mrs Brown walked into the laundry, but didn’t answer. She had opened the envelope and was holding the report in her hand. She had a stunned expression on her face. “Isadora! Have you read this?”
Issie winced. Her mother only used her full name when she was in trouble. “No…” she said. “Mr Monagatti said we’re supposed to give them to our parents to open.” Issie looked at the piece of paper in her mum’s hand. “I didn’t think it would be…is it really that bad?”
“Bad?” Mrs Brown shook her head in disbelief. “Issie, it’s brilliant! This is one of the most glowing school reports I’ve ever read! You’re topping the class in maths and science. You’ve got A+ for your English and history marks. Your form teacher describes you as ‘above average in all subjects’.”
“I’m still useless at French,” Issie said, “Mr Canning says my vocab is OK, but I have trouble with my—”
“Issie,” Mrs Brown said, “French aside, this is a really terrific report card. Why didn’t you show it to me? You should be thrilled with it…Issie?”
Issie’s head had disappeared into the laundry basket as she desperately hunted for the missing jods. “I forgot about it!” she said as she began to dig frantically through the clothes. “I went over to Kate’s after school and…Ohmygod! There they are!” Issie emerged triumphant with the jodhpurs. She looked at her watch. Seven forty! “Mum, can you give me a lift down to the paddock? I’ll never