Читать книгу Mega Sleepover 3 - Fiona Cummings, Louis Catt, Narinder Dhami - Страница 9

The only person I managed to get on the phone was Fliss. Everyone else was out.

“We’ve drawn a blank on the karaoke tapes but I’ve thought of something else,” I told her.

“Tell me, tell me,” she squeaked.

I didn’t. Not straight away, anyway. Another brilliant bright idea had dawned.

“Lyndz? Are you still there?” I could hear Fliss saying.

“Yeah,” I answered. Then I said, “I don’t suppose by any teeny-weeny chance that you fancy the idea of a sleepover?”

“Do I? You bet! When?”

“Friday? Saturday? The sooner the better. We’ve got to start practising,” I said.

“The class heats are in two weeks’ time,” she said gloomily.

Talk about dropping a bombshell! I was gobsmacked. Two weeks? We’d never have our act ready by then. Why had nobody told me?

I said those same words to Fliss.

“But Mrs Weaver mentioned it yesterday, just after all that trouble with the M&Ms,” she said.

“I suppose I wasn’t listening. My mind was full of hate. Kill, kill, kill! Death to the M&Ms!” I said dramatically.

“Was that what you rung me about, then? No, not about killing the M&Ms. The sleepover?” she asked me.

“No. I only just thought of that. My other great, earth-shattering idea was about the music to go with our song,” I said.

“I know. You’re going to ask the Spice Girls’ band to play for us, I suppose,” she said.

“Ho, ho. Don’t be a moron,” I told her. “I was listening to Stu and his friends playing the other night and - “

“You’re not going to ask them?” she said. There was pure horror in her voice, as if I’d told her the M&Ms were about to be fried in toad juice and served up to her for lunch.

“Of course not! Can you imagine my big brother even setting foot in Cuddington Primary? It would ruin his street cred for all time! But it made me think, why don’t we accompany ourselves? We could borrow a guitar, and Frankie’s got a keyboard…”

“But none of us can play the guitar,” she pointed out.

“I know four chords. Stu showed me,” I said proudly. “That’s why the sleepover’s got to be held here, so he can teach me some more. Will you tell Rosie and Kenny, and I’ll keep trying to get Frankie. See you later, alligator!”

“In a while, crocodile,” she replied.

“Have a laugh, big giraffe!” I said. It was our latest signing-off game. We kept trying to think of new animals.

“Don’t get smelly pants, elephant!”

I snorted down the phone and laughed so loud, I must have deafened her. When I’d stopped laughing, which took ages, I told her I couldn’t think of any more animals.

“Don’t get fat, tabby cat. ‘Bye!” she said, and rang off.

I stared at the receiver after she’d gone. Then I stared at the Twix bar in my other hand. How did she know I was about to eat it? It’s not as if I’ve got a reputation for pigging out all the time… is it?

I searched the telephone for a tiny hidden camera that could have relayed a piccy of my choc bar, but there wasn’t one, of course. It was just my paranoia at being the fattest of us five friends.

Rosie’s the next fattest, she’s just sort of normal. Kenny is all muscle, Fliss is a natural stick insect, and Frankie is so tall that a few spare pounds wouldn’t show. She’s the luckiest, I think. I hope I grow taller soon.

My next big challenge was to ask Mum and Dad if I could have a sleepover. Although I kept my fingers crossed, I didn’t need to because Mum was great about it.

“You know I love having the house full of girls, instead of horrid, smelly boys,” she said.

I’m glad she agrees with me about boys. It must be because she’s given birth to four of them - and got Dad and our dog to cope with, too!

She repeated another of her favourite sayings: “Girls are far less trouble than boys.”

Though she didn’t know it, she was going to regret saying that…

Next day was Saturday. We had all arranged to go to the library in the centre of Cuddington at the same time, eleven o’clock in the morning.

I’m the furthest away, as I live in Little Wearing, whereas the others live in Cuddington itself. So I had to ask if someone would drive me over.

Dad volunteered, as he wanted to go to the art shop and buy some paints. He probably needed more green, after his accident with the leaping panther. Why paint a panther green, anyway? I suppose that’s what you call ‘artistic licence’.

When Dad dropped me off at the library, saying he’d pick me up in an hour, I could see two familiar bicycles fastened to the rail outside - Kenny’s and Frankie’s. Frankie has a new one. It’s bright green, to go with her vegetarian nature. She eats so much salad that we kid her that she’ll turn green one day. All over, including her hair, just like Dad’s stupid panther.

We met in the music section, by the CD and tape selection.

“Look what I’ve found!” yelled Kenny, earning a warning frown from the man on the check-out desk.

It was a CD of football anthems. As you know, Kenny’s seriously football mad. But this pointed to her being just plain mad, as well.

“Ugh! You’re not actually thinking of listening to that, are you?” I said. “It’ll do your eardrums in.”

“I find football songs inspiring,” she said mysteriously.

“Oh, get her!” said Rosie.

“Haven’t they got a tape on teaching yourself to sing?” I said.

Frankie was looking very pleased with herself.

“I’ve gone one better than that,” she said.

She waved two books at me. One was called, The Piano: Learn To Play in a Week. The other was called Guitar Made Easy.

“One for you and one for me,” she said.

“I don’t need that,” I said, pointing to the guitar book. “You know I can play some chords.”

“Yes, we’ve heard you,” said Fliss.

She was referring to a time when we’d all been round at her place and Andy, had left his guitar lying around. He only ever got it out when Fliss’s mum was out, as she hated hearing him play and thought guitars made the room look untidy.

I’d picked it up and played my four chords. I thought I sounded brilliant, but when I looked round, they all had their fingers jammed in their ears and were making being sick noises. Call themselves friends? I ask you!

“Let’s get the books out, anyway,” said Frankie. “I certainly need to improve a bit.”

“Don’t forget to bring your keyboard next Friday,” I reminded her. It was only small, so it was easy to carry.

“Friday’s nearly a week off. Couldn’t we have a practice tomorrow?” Kenny said desperately.

Our parents would only ever let us have sleepovers at weekends, so there was no chance at all of us having a proper get-together before then, if Sunday was out.

It looked as if it was, worse luck.

“I can’t,” Rosie said. “We’re going out for the day with my gran and grandad.”

“And I’m going to Alton Towers for Carl and Colin’s birthday,” Fliss said, then waited for our reaction.

A chorus of “You lucky thing!” came from the rest of us.

Then I thought about Carl and Colin, Fliss’s twin cousins. They were a gruesome twosome, the male equivalent of the M&Ms, as they were always poking fun at Fliss and being horrid to her. Maybe she wasn’t so lucky, after all!