Читать книгу Sleepover in Spain - Narinder Dhami - Страница 7

“Mum!” I yelled as soon as I got home. “Can I go to Spain?”

My mum was working on the computer in her study, and she raised her eyebrows as I charged in, waving the letter.

“Did you say Spain, Frankie?”

“Yeah, there’s a school trip to the Costa Brava!” I gave her the letter, and hopped impatiently from one foot to the other while she read it. “So, can I go?”

“Well, it does look quite interesting,” my mum said thoughtfully. “It says here you’ll get the chance to meet other kids from all over Europe, and learn about each other’s cultures.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I muttered. Bor-ing! That wasn’t what I was interested in. “What d’you reckon then, Mum? Can I go?”

My mum looked at me over the top of her glasses. “I suppose so, if your dad agrees.”

“Yes!” I gave her a big hug. “Thanks, Mum!”

“What about the others? Are they going too?”

“Yep.” I didn’t say anything about Rosie getting her knickers in a twist, because I was pretty sure we’d be able to talk her into asking her dad for the money.

“The poor old Spanish don’t know what they’re letting themselves in for,” my mum remarked, turning back to the computer.

I rushed out into the hall, grabbed the phone and punched in Kenny’s number. I’d be seeing her in an hour or two at Rosie’s, but I couldn’t wait that long to break my good news.

“Hello?”

It sounded like Kenny at the other end of the line, so I started singing loudly: “Oh, this year I’m off to sunny Spain! Y viva España!”

There was a moment’s silence.

“I think it’s Kenny you want to talk to,” Molly the Monster said in a freezing tone. I heard her slam the receiver onto the table and stomp off down the hall. A few seconds later Kenny picked up the phone. She was killing herself laughing.

“What did you say to the Monster, Frankie? She’s got a face on her like a sour lemon!”

“Guess what?” I yelled. “My mum says I can go on the school trip!”

“Cool!” Kenny shouted joyfully. “So can I! And Monster-Features is so green with jealousy, she looks like the Incredible Hulk! Ow! Get off me, Molly!”

I waited impatiently while Kenny and Molly had a fight at the other end of the line.

“Kenny!” I yelled at last. “Get off the phone, ’cos I want to ring Fliss!”

“I’ll ring Lyndz then. Right, Molly, you’re dead!” And Kenny banged down the phone.

“Of course I’m going!” Fliss said when I got through to her. “And so’s Lyndz, I just called her. Now get off the phone ’cos I want to ring Kenny.”

While Fliss was calling Kenny, I phoned Lyndz.

“So we’re all going!” Lyndz said, delighted. “Except Rosie…”

“Well, we’ll just have to try and talk her into it when we go over tonight.” I glanced up at the clock. “Oh, rats, I’m going to be late!”

“So am I!” said Lyndz. “See you soon!”

I raced upstairs and started chucking things into my sleepover bag. Usually I take ages packing my stuff, but tonight I was too excited to care. I couldn’t believe that I was finally getting the chance to go abroad. Fliss was always going on about Tenerife and Florida and Lanzarote and all the places she’d been to, and the others had been on foreign holidays too, so sometimes I felt really left out.

“Toothbrush, diary, membership card, pyjamas, slippers,” I was muttering under my breath, when my mum came in.

“Hold it right there, Frankie,” she said. “Mrs Cartwright has just phoned. Rosie’s not very well, so the sleepover’s off.”

“What?” I bounced off the bed and onto my feet. “But she was fine at school today!”

My mum shrugged and went out, leaving me feeling really suspicious. It was all just a bit too convenient that Rosie was ill when she knew we were probably going to spend the whole sleepover trying to persuade her to come to Spain with us. So I legged it downstairs and phoned Kenny.

“I know – it stinks!” Kenny said when I got through. “I bet there’s nothing wrong with her. I just spoke to Fliss, and she thinks Rosie’s faking it too.”

“I don’t get it,” I said, puzzled. “What’s her problem?”

“I don’t know, but we’re gonna find out!” Kenny said. “I reckon we should all go over there anyway, right now. Can you meet us in half an hour?”

Fliss lived the closest to Rosie, so we decided to meet at her house. The others were already there when my mum dropped me off, and we set off for Rosie’s place immediately.

“I don’t know why Rosie’s being so weird about all this,” Kenny grumbled. “Anyone’d think she didn’t want to go to Spain!”

“There must be a reason why she doesn’t want to ask her dad for the money,” Lyndz pointed out. “Poor old Rosie, I feel—”

“Really sorry for her!” we all chimed in.

“We won’t be able to have a proper sleepover in Spain if Rosie doesn’t come,” Fliss said gloomily, as we went up to the Cartwrights’ front door.

“She’ll come,” Kenny said confidently, ringing the doorbell. “Even if we have to carry her onto the plane ourselves!”

“I really want to learn flamenco dancing,” I remarked. “Do you think we’ll get a chance to have a go while we’re there?”

“That’d be cool!” said Fliss. “I love those big swirly dresses the Spanish dancers wear.”

“Isn’t flamenco dancing difficult?” Lyndz asked.

“Get out of it!” Kenny scoffed. “All you do is clap your hands and move your feet around a bit – like this.” She started clapping her hands and stamping her feet and twirling round in circles, shouting “Olé!”

“Watch it, Kenny!” Fliss said, looking alarmed as she twirled faster.

Kenny suddenly got dizzy, staggered and pitched head-first into one of the bushy shrubs near the front door. That cracked us all up. She was still picking leaves out of her hair when Rosie’s mum opened the door.

“Oh – hello!” she said, looking dead surprised to see us. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“We thought we’d come and see how Rosie is,” I explained.

“Yeah, we want to find out if she can come on the school trip to Spain,” Kenny said eagerly. “We’re all going.”

“Oh?” Mrs Cartwright looked surprised. “She hasn’t mentioned it to me. But if she wants to go, I’m sure her dad will be happy to pay for her.”

We all looked at each other. No problem there then. So why was Rosie being so funny about it all? It was a real mystery.

“Rosie’s in bed, so go right up.” Mrs Cartwright ushered us in. “She’s got a bad headache, so don’t make too much noise, will you?”

We all went up the stairs, trying not to make too much of a racket, but it wasn’t easy because there was no carpet down. Rosie’s house is brilliant – it’s big and it has loads of rooms, but it’s in a right old state. Her dad, who’s a builder, had bought the house and started doing it up, but then he’d left and gone to live with his girlfriend. He was still supposed to be fixing the place up, but he hadn’t got very far. Rosie was always moaning about it.

We stopped outside Rosie’s bedroom door, and I knocked gently. No answer.

“Maybe she’s asleep,” Lyndz whispered.

“No chance,” Kenny snorted. “We know there’s nothing wrong with her!” And she flung the door open.

Rosie didn’t see us at first. She was dancing round the room in her teddy-bear pyjamas with a Walkman in her hand and headphones over her ears, pretending to be Posh Spice.

We all waited in the doorway with our arms folded until, eventually, Rosie turned round. When she saw us, she nearly dropped down dead with shock.

“Wh– what’re you doing here?” she squeaked, pulling the headphones off.

“We’ve come to see our sick friend,” Kenny said with heavy sarcasm. “Where is she, by the way?”

Rosie blushed. “All right,” she muttered sheepishly. “I’m not really ill.”

“Big fat hairy surprise!” Kenny snapped. “So what’s going on then?”

Rosie looked down at her pink furry slippers. “I didn’t want to have the sleepover because I didn’t want you going on at me all night about coming to Spain.”

“But what’s the problem?” I asked with a frown. “Your mum says that your dad’ll pay.”

Rosie went even redder. “I– I– I’ve never been on an aeroplane before!” she stammered. “And I’m scared!”

“Is that all!” Kenny began, then shut up as I elbowed her in the ribs.

“But you said you’d been abroad!” Fliss pointed out, looking puzzled.

“We went on the ferry,” Rosie mumbled miserably, “and I wasn’t too keen on that.”

“I’ve never been on a plane before either, Rosie,” I reassured her. “So I’ll probably be wetting myself too. Don’t worry about it.”