Читать книгу Sleepover Girls Go Camping - Fiona Cummings, Louis Catt - Страница 5

The following week, the rest of us waited for Fliss outside the church hall before our Brownie meeting.

When she appeared, Kenny hissed, “Right, not a word about the assault course!”

Fliss walked over to us. She looked in a real mood. “I suppose Brown Owl will be going on about that stupid camp again,” she said crossly.

“Well, a ‘Hello, how are you?’ would have been nice!” joked Kenny.

“And there’s no need to sound so enthusiastic about the camp!” laughed Frankie. “We wouldn’t want you to actually enjoy yourself now, would we?”

“I’m not sure that I’m going to go,” Fliss said.

“What?” we all yelled.

“But you said you were, last time we talked about it.” Rosie sounded exasperated.

“Yes, I know, but I want to find out whether or not there’s an assault course there,” explained Fliss. “And I can’t ask Auntie Jill because Mum says that she’s on a course from work or something. She won’t be coming to Brownies for the next few weeks.”

“That’s a pity!” said Kenny innocently.

If Fliss didn’t have the chance to ask Snowy Owl about the assault course, she probably wouldn’t find out about it until we were safely at camp. And by then it would be too late!

“I don’t understand what the big deal is about an assault course anyway,” I said. “I mean, even if there is one – OUCH!” I suddenly fell to the ground.

“Whoops, sorry, Lyndz. I think I must have tripped you up,” said Kenny. As she bent to help me up, she hissed in my ear, “I told you not to mention the assault course.”

“I know – but—” I spluttered.

“Goodness, Lyndsey, that was quite a tumble. Are you all right?” Brown Owl asked, as she ushered us into the hall.

I nodded and gave Kenny a dirty look.

At the start of our meetings Brown Owl always runs through everything we’re going to do. When she mentioned the camp and the letters to take home we all held our breath. We were sure that Fliss was going to ask her about the assault course. But Brown Owl said that we’d a lot to get through and sort of hurried us into our sixes to work on our Season’s Badge, so Fliss didn’t get the chance.

As we’re not all in the same six, we didn’t meet up again properly until the end of the meeting when Brown Owl was handing out the letters about the camp.

“Don’t forget – I need your parents’ permission slips and your money by next week,” she reminded us.

Emma Hughes and Emily Berryman jostled and pushed us to make sure that they were the first ones to get their sweaty little paws on the letters.

“Pathetic!” spat Kenny.

“We’ll see who’s pathetic when we beat you in the Challenge at the end of the camp!” sneered Emma Hughes.

“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that!” retorted Kenny.

The M&Ms tossed their hair and stalked away.

Fliss, who was next to me at the back of the group, asked anxiously, “What Challenge?”

“Um, I’m not sure,” I said quickly. “It’s probably who sings the best songs round the camp fire or something.”

“Oh great,” said Fliss. “I love singing like that, we’ll probably win the Challenge – easy!”

“Oh you think so, do you, Miss Prissy-Knickers?” snarled Emma Hughes, who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “Well you’d better start practising. I wouldn’t have thought a weed like you would be much good at—”

“I’ve got your letters,” Frankie said loudly. She quickly thrust two letters about the camp at Fliss and me, and stood between us and the M&Ms.

“Crikey, Fliss, look at the time!” said Rosie who had joined us. “Your mum’ll be wondering where we are!”

“Better run along to mummikins!” mimicked the Gruesome Twosome.

Fliss went bright red.

“You should go, too,” shouted Kenny. “It’s getting windy now and we wouldn’t want you to take a wrong turn on your broomsticks!”

We all screamed with laughter and, linking arms, we ran as fast as we could out of the hall and down the path.

Fliss’s mum and my dad were waiting for us outside. Rosie went with Fliss and I’d arranged to give Kenny and Frankie a lift home. When we’d waved goodbye to the others, the three of us piled into Dad’s van and Frankie pretended to collapse in a heap.

“Phew, that was close!” she said, wiping her brow dramatically.

“I know!” I squealed, “I couldn’t believe it when you got into a row with the M&Ms, Kenny. I thought Fliss was bound to suss something out,”

“Then when the M&Ms had a go at her about winning the Challenge,” giggled Kenny, “and she thought they were talking about singing!”

We all exploded into laughter.

“Do you think she’s going to find out about the assault course before the camp?” I asked when we’d calmed down.

“I hope not,” said Frankie.

“There’s only a week before we have to give in the forms. And once she’s paid her money, Fliss can’t really back down, can she?” reasoned Kenny.

“We’ll have to avoid the M&Ms, though,” said Frankie. “They could easily mention the Assault Course Challenge again, and that would completely finish Fliss off!”

When we’d dropped Frankie and Kenny off, I started to panic. It wouldn’t be easy avoiding the M&Ms because we’re all in the same class at school. The camp was planned for the summer holidays but we had one week at school before the end of term. The only way we could be sure that the M&Ms wouldn’t mention anything to Fliss was if we kidnapped her and kept her in a cupboard. The thought was tempting but a bit impossible. We would just have to stay on our toes and be extra wary of them.

For that last week, every time we saw Emma Hughes or Emily Berryman, we bundled Fliss out of the way. Or we started to talk extra loudly, so that even if they did say anything Fliss wouldn’t be able to hear it.

On the last day of term we all went a bit wild. We seemed to spend more time outside than we did in the classroom. We were too hyper to work and even Mrs Weaver, our teacher, knew it. The M&Ms seemed to be spending a lot of time leaping over obstacles – a bench, the rubbish bin, Ryan Scott.

“Sad!” said Kenny loudly as she passed them.

“You won’t be saying that when we beat you in the—” started Emma Hughes, and we all knew what she was going to say next.

“Hey, Fliss, look!” Rosie dragged Fliss away.

“Daisy chains!” screamed Frankie, in an over-the-top kind of way. “Let’s make daisy chains with those younger children.”

“Yes!” I said, trying my best to sound enthusiastic. “Let’s!”

After that narrow escape we just had to stay out of the M&Ms way for the rest of the afternoon. It was a huge relief all round when school finally broke up. And it was even more of a relief when Fliss turned up at the next Brownie meeting with the form and her money. There was no going back now – assault course or not!

There were only two weeks between us handing in our forms and actually going away to camp. You can imagine how excited we were. We never seemed to talk about anything else.

“I can’t wait!” laughed Kenny.

We were all sitting in her room a couple of days before the camp. “There’ll be so many cool things to do! I’ve always wanted to have a bash at abseiling!”

“Yeah, ‘having a bash’ is probably right!” laughed Frankie. “Knowing you, you’ll probably try to do it too fast and splat! – you’ll be squashed on the wall.”

Fliss sort of shivered.

“We’re only joking Fliss,” I reassured her. “It won’t be like that – there’ll be lots of fun stuff. It’s going to be brilliant!”

“Do you think we ought to start practising for the Challenge?” Fliss asked.

We all stared at her with our mouths open.

“What, you mean you know?” asked Rosie.

“Yes,” said Fliss slowly, as though we were all dummies. “And I really think we should practise so that the M&Ms don’t beat us.”

“Cool!” shouted Kenny. “Maybe we should go outside now and start climbing a few trees or something. What about press-ups, they’re good.”

I started to shake my head at Kenny, because I could see Fliss’s shocked face.

“How will climbing trees help us to sing the best songs round the camp fire?” she asked.

Kenny looked blank. It wasn’t often that she was speechless.

“It’s something to do with opening your lungs properly.” Frankie leapt to her rescue. “I’ve heard that you should exercise before you sing.”

Rosie and I rolled our eyes at each other, and I tried not to giggle.

It was a relief when we were finally on the minibus heading for Foxton Glen. We knew that we couldn’t keep the assault course a secret from Fliss for much longer, but we figured that we’d cope with it when it happened. Besides, we already had enough to worry about, dealing with the low-down behaviour of the M&Ms.

We’d all been lining up to get on the minibus, when they barged past us and nabbed the seats right in the middle. Alana Banana sat on the seat opposite them, which meant that we couldn’t all sit together. So Kenny and Frankie sat in front of the Gruesome Twosome, Rosie and Fliss sat behind them and I sat in front of Alana Banana with – get this – Brown Owl. So we had an excellent journey to Foxton Glen – not! And it was all the fault of those selfish M&Ms. We were determined that they’d pay for it over the next few days.

“Here we are, girls!” Brown Owl called out, as we finally swung off the main road onto a twisty track. We all pressed our faces up to the windows so that we could see where we’d be staying for the next few days.

“Wow, isn’t this cool!” yelled Kenny. “What’s that over there?” She was pointing to something in the distance.

“That’s the tower for the abseiling and the climbing wall,” explained Brown Owl.

The minibus stopped.

“Right, can you please get off the minibus quickly and quietly,” said Brown Owl, “and remember to collect all your bags.”

We pushed and shoved our way off as quickly as we could. Apart from Fliss, who always has to check anywhere a million times to make sure she hasn’t left anything behind.

We were all hyper, laughing and joking as we looked around – it was awesome. But we also realised that the dreaded moment had finally arrived.

“What are you so excited about?” Fliss asked, when she finally joined us.

Together, we pointed at the sign in front of us, which said, in huge letters: ASSAULT COURSE THIS WAY.