Читать книгу The Sleepover Club at the Carnival - Sue Mongredien - Страница 5

I wasn’t gutted for too long, of course. First, because I never stay in a mood for longer than about five minutes, and second, because Mrs Weaver had a lot more information about the carnival than my mum had.

For starters, she told us all about how we were going to get involved. “As well as bands, fairground rides and stalls, there will be a procession of floats along the high street,” she said. “Each float has a particular theme. There’ll be lots of people wearing costumes, and all the floats will be decorated differently. Best of all, Cuddington Primary School is going to have its own float – and it’s going to be designed and decorated by YOU!”

Everyone looked excited at that. This sounded like fun!

“I haven’t finished yet,” she said, smiling. “The top classes – that’s ours and Mr Phillips’ class – are responsible for actually putting together the float. The younger classes are going to put together a display of pictures for the library. So I want you all to come up with a good theme for us to have for the float. Now…”

“Football!” Simon Graham said at once.

I grinned at him and gave him the thumbs-up. I’d be on for that one!

“Horse rising!” Lyndz blurted out eagerly.

“Harry Potter!” someone else shouted.

Mrs Weaver banged on the desk with her ruler. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” she said. “There’ll be plenty of time for your ideas later. Don’t you think it would be a good idea to find out more about the carnival before you all start shouting things out?”

The classroom went quiet.

“Now,” Mrs Weaver continued, “do you remember when it was the millennium and the whole world looked back over the last thousand years? Well, this year marks one HUNDRED years of Cuddington – as far as we can tell. Lots of the old buildings in the village were built in 1901 – for example, the main bank on the high street, the library, the old grammar school and most importantly, the big stone cross in the marketplace. 1901 also saw the beginning of the weekly farmers’ market where local people could buy and sell pigs, sheep and cows, as well as fruit and vegetables. The market’s a bit different these days, but it’s still going strong, after all this time.”

I looked at Lyndz, who had this dead wistful expression on her face. I just knew she was wishing that you could still buy piglets and lambs at Cuddington market. Lyndz is totally soppy about baby animals. Unfortunately, the market only sells things like tea towels and big granny pants these days.

“So that’s the main reason for the carnival – it’s to celebrate one hundred years of Cuddington’s history,” Mrs Weaver said.

A few people pulled faces at that – me and Frankie included.

“So bearing in mind this historical theme, has anyone got any ideas for the float now?” Mrs Weaver said.

“Grannies,” Frankie said under her breath.

Unfortunately, Mrs Weaver has ear radar of her own. “What was that, Francesca?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Frankie had to think quickly. “Er… grannies,” she said. “We could all dress up as old grannies, and play bingo, and…”

“I don’t think so, thank you, Francesca,” Mrs Weaver said in her scariest no-nonsense voice. “Anyone else got any brilliant ideas?”

The M&Ms both smirked nastily at Frankie. Creeps! They’re our enemies, if you didn’t know. Emma Hughes and Emily Berryman, to be precise – but we don’t like to waste our breath on their yucky names, so we call them the M&Ms instead. Ever seen Star Wars? I always expect that creepy Darth Vader music to start up whenever they walk into the room. One of these days, I swear they’re going to say to us, “Turn to the dark side, Sleepover Club!”

Emma put her hand up, all sickly-sweet smiles. “Miss, how about a tribute to all the famous people of Cuddington?” she said.

Mrs Weaver frowned. “Who were you thinking of, Emma?” she asked.

That stumped her! “Er… Well, my aunt was on Blind Date last year…” she said lamely.

All the boys – and all of us Sleepover girls, of course – started sniggering loudly. “Desperation and ugliness must run in the family,” I said, loud enough for Emma to hear me. She went bright red and scowled at me. Ha! Got you back, Hughesy!

“We could do something about all the interesting sights of Cuddington,” said Alan Baxter, class boffin. Like, yeah! ’Cos there are just sooo many, aren’t there?

“That’s a good idea, Alan,” Mrs Weaver said, writing it up on the board. She was the only one who thought so, though, judging by the amount of people who were wrinkling up their noses in boredom. “Come on, the rest of you – use your brains!”

“Sport through the ages?” Simon Graham suggested. He’s like me – a real sports nut.

I was just about to agree loudly with this idea – any excuse to dress up in my football kit! – when I heard an excited squeak come from next to me. Fliss!

“We could do… CLOTHES through the ages!” she burst out. “Fashion! What people wore a hundred years ago, right through to what people wear today!”

Everyone started shouting things out.

“Mini-skirts in the Sixties!”

“Flares in the Seventies!”

“Teddy boys!”

Even Mrs Weaver looked impressed by this. “I think that’s a very good idea, Felicity,” she said warmly. “Hands up if you agree.”

A forest of hands shot up at once. A few boys’ hands hung back – and I have to confess, I didn’t put mine up STRAIGHT away, as I secretly fancied Simon’s sports idea instead. But when Rosie gave me a fierce look, I decided I really should support Fliss. I’d never be forgiven otherwise.

Mrs Weaver was smiling now. I think she was just relieved that someone had come up with something sensible. “Good thinking, Felicity,” she said. “Everyone seems to like your idea.”

Fliss blushed and looked down at her desk modestly, even though I knew that secretly she was practically wetting her pants with pride.

“Now, it’s just about time for break,” Mrs Weaver said, looking at her watch. “But keep thinking up ideas, everyone! I’ll see what Mr Phillips thinks of ‘fashion through the ages’. If he likes it, we’ll start putting together materials for you to get working on tomorrow.”

There was an excited buzz of chatter as we all went out into the playground. Fliss was beaming. Mrs Weaver often gets a bit impatient with her for day-dreaming or sneaking peeks in her little mirror to check her hair’s OK all the time. But today she was the golden girl! And the thought of doing a whole project on her favourite thing – CLOTHES – was a dream come true.

As soon as we got outside, Frankie put her hands on her hips and practically screamed, “So what’s the news, Kenny? I’ve been dying to find out!”

I started to laugh. “You already HAVE found out, you nana. The carnival! That’s what I was going to tell you about, but eager-beaver Weaver beat me to it.”

Frankie’s face fell. “Oh, phooey!” she moaned. “I thought it was going to be an idea for the next sleepover or something REALLY exciting.”

“Talking of which…” Rosie said. “Anyone thought of anything?”

“Well, we’ve got to do some sort of carnival sleepover now,” Lyndz said at once.

“Agreed!” I said. “If we have it at mine, we could use Molly the Monster as the bouncy castle!” Me and Molly – my middle sister – are about as friendly as Red Riding Hood and the big bad wolf.

“We could have a sort of hundred-years sleepover,” Fliss said, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully.

Frankie felt Fliss’s forehead, looking concerned. “Blimey, Fliss, that’s two ideas you’ve had already this morning! No wonder you feel hot – your brain’s probably about to explode!”

“And a hundred years is quite a long time for a sleepover, Fliss,” I teased. “I don’t think my mum and dad would be very keen on having us in the house for so long!”

“Yeah, do you fancy yourself as Sleeping Beauty or something?” Rosie quipped. “Falling asleep for a hundred years, only to be woken by a kiss from… Ryan Scott!”

Fliss tossed her long hair. “I didn’t mean it has to LAST one hundred years, you derr-brains,” she said scathingly as everyone else cracked up. “I meant, we could imagine what a sleepover would have been like one hundred years ago!”

“Like a 1901 sleepover?” Rosie said. Then she frowned. “I don’t think they had telly then, though, did they?”

“What about sweets?” Lyndz asked anxiously.

“We had enough historical stuff when we stayed in that Blitz house,” Frankie said with a shudder. “And there’s no way I’m going without an inside toilet again, whatever you say!”

“Oh… Er… Well, we don’t have to be that strict,” Fliss said hurriedly. I could tell she didn’t like the idea of not having a toilet either. “But maybe we could play old-fashioned games and eat old-fashioned sweets – like humbugs and toffee, that sort of thing – and maybe dress up, or… I don’t know what they used to do in those days. Make love potions or something?”

Everyone pulled faces at the love potions idea. Fliss is the only one of us who’s remotely interested in boys and lurve and all that soppy stuff.

“Is that your final answer?” I said in the end, leaning forward and shoving a pretend microphone under her nose.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Lyndz said, still sounding rather doubtful.

“Well, no-one’s got any better ideas, have they?” Fliss pointed out. “So shall we do it?”

“Mmmm,” “Yeah,” “I suppose so,” we all said at once – some of us less enthusiastically than others.

“Granny sleepover it is!” Frankie said with a wink.