The 24 Hour Sleepover Club Read online

“And if we have to come upstairs to you again,” continued Dad, “you won’t be having another sleepover until you’re all collecting your pensions!”

  “OK, Dad,” I said as sweetly as I could. “We promise to be good.” The others all nodded.

  “All right, then. Well hurry up and get ready for bed,” said Dad. “I know you lot. You’re the world experts on taking as long as possible to get into bed! You could go on lecture tours abroad, present television programmes on the subject… ” His voice faded as he closed the door behind him. When we had heard Mum and Dad go downstairs, we all let out a huge sigh.

  “Thanks, Frankie!” moaned Fliss. “I bet your parents think I’m a real wimp. Still excited after the fair! You made me sound like a five-year-old!”

  I could see Kenny narrowing her eyes and staring at Fliss. That wasn’t a good sign. I couldn’t go through all that shouting and crying again.

  “I’m sorry, Fliss, it’s all I could think of,” I admitted.

  “Look, we’re all friends again and that’s what matters,” said Lyndz, grabbing us all in a group hug.

  “But you know what?” asked Kenny, when she had managed to struggle free. “We’ve still got to sort out what we’re going to do about those stupid M&Ms tomorrow.”

  In all the chaos, I’d almost forgotten about them.

  “OK, well let’s get ready for bed first,” I suggested. “We usually do our best thinking when we’re in bed.”

  The others agreed, so we got our nightclothes out of our bags and started to get undressed. As this was a sleepover, we did our invisible striptease inside our sleeping bags. It wasn’t easy for me because Kenny’s sleeping bag was next to mine on my bed. She’s like a ferret caught in a sack sometimes. Her arms and legs were thrashing about. She almost pushed me off the bed twice!

  “You look like an escapologist!” laughed Rosie. She had already changed into her pyjamas and was watching Kenny’s performance.

  “Hey, maybe that’s what we could do!” shrieked Lyndz. “We could grab the M&Ms, tie them up, take them somewhere really spooky and leave them to untie themselves.”

  “Earth to Lyndsey!” I said. “This is the real world you know, not some spooky film. We want to teach them a lesson, not end up on Crimewatch. It’s got to be something simple that will make them look stupid. Nobody has to know that we’re involved.”

  Fliss looked relieved.

  “Couldn’t we just send them a nasty letter?” she asked. “We could write it on your computer, Frankie.”

  “No, I think it needs more than a letter, Fliss,” said Rosie. “If they’re planning to do something to us on our picnic tomorrow, we’ve got to get in with our plan first.”

  We all trooped off to the bathroom with our toilet bags. None of us enjoys washing much, so we never take much time doing that. But it’s amazing how long it takes for five of us to do everything else you need to do before going to bed.

  “And here we have the dawdling about by the bathroom technique… ” Mum suddenly appeared as the rest of us were waiting for Fliss to finish brushing her teeth.

  “And what is your advice to those girls who are worried about not taking long enough over their bedtime wash?” she asked Kenny, thrusting a pretend microphone in front of her face.

  “Aw, give it a rest Mum” I pleaded. “We’re going as fast as we can. You want us to be clean, don’t you?”

  “I don’t care about clean, my girl,” Mum laughed. “I just want you lot tucked up in bed!”

  Fliss appeared out of the bathroom and did a twirl in her nightdress.

  “I’m done!” she shouted. She didn’t realise that Mum was there.

  “I’m very pleased to hear it, Felicity,” she said. “You’re a sensible girl. Will you please get the rest of them to go to bed!”

  When we got back to my room, we all snuggled down in our sleeping bags and got out our diaries.

  “Why don’t we all write down what we think we should do to the M&Ms and then vote on the best idea?” suggested Fliss.

  Fliss is very keen on voting for things. We all thought her idea was a good one though, so we started thinking up our plans. The thing was, it was harder to write anything down than I had imagined. I knew that I wanted to get even with the M&Ms. And I knew that, more than anything, I didn’t want them to do anything awful to us. That was a point of honour. But I just couldn’t think of anything sensible that we could do to them. The harder I tried to think, the more my mind went blank.

  “I can’t really think of anything,” I admitted.

  “Me neither,” agreed Lyndz.

  “I’ve just written: Send a nasty letter saying we’ll see them in the park. Then we go somewhere else,” said Fliss.

  We all groaned.

  “Well at least I did try,” moaned Fliss. “And they would feel stupid if they turned up and we weren’t there.”

  “That’s true,” I admitted. “But I think we’ve got to take more positive action. I mean really do something to the M&Ms.”

  “I’m not so sure about this,” whined Fliss. “There’s something not quite right about us attacking the M&Ms in public!”

  “Oh don’t start again!” shouted Kenny. “Would you rather they attacked us?” Fliss shook her head.

  “But Fliss, we’re not going to be actually fighting with the M&Ms or anything. We don’t do that,” I reassured her. Kenny looked disappointed.

  “Besides,” I continued, “we’ve had run-ins with the M&Ms for as long as we’ve been at school. You’ve never minded before. What’s changed now?”

  “Well I have always minded a bit,” admitted Fliss quietly. She looked as though she was going to cry again. “But this time there’s something else.”

  “What?” we all asked together.

  “I don’t know,” she shouted. “That’s just it. There’s something at the back of my mind telling me that this isn’t such a good idea. But I just don’t know what it is.”

  “Could it be that you’re a wimp?” asked Kenny, innocently.

  We all shot her a look. I would be in deep doom if Fliss and Kenny fell out again after what happened last time.

  “What have you written anyway, Kenny?” asked Lyndz suddenly.

  “I’ve written: Wait for stinky stupid M&Ms by park gates; make sure we’re hidden from them. When they walk past, leap out at them, cut off their stupid blonde hair, stuff it down their throats and…”

  “Er, Kenny, I think you’re taking this a bit too seriously,” I said, snatching her diary from her. I read what else she’d written and, believe me, her suggestions got worse. Much worse.

  “We only want to teach them a lesson,” said Lyndz.

  “OK then, clever clogs,” said Kenny. “What did you come up with?”

  “Well I didn’t,” admitted Lyndz. “It’s harder than I thought.”

  We all agreed about that.

  “I vote that we have a dance before we go to bed,” I said. “You never know, it might give us inspiration.”

  I whacked my Spice cassette into the machine and we all started to dance. We were in mid-routine when Mum knocked on the door and came in.

  “At this rate, you should have started getting ready for bed before we went to the fair!” she groaned. “Come on girls, I’ve had enough excitement for one day and I’m ready for bed myself. Into bed all of you. I’m going to turn out the light.”

  We scrambled into our sleeping bags.

  “Night-night!” called Mum as she closed the door.

  “Night-night!” we all called back.

  We counted to twenty-five then turned on our torches. We always put them next to our sleeping bags, so that we’re prepared for lights out.

  “What do you suppose the M&Ms will do to us?” asked Fliss. She sounded a bit anxious.

  “I can’t believe they’ll do anything much,” said Rosie. “They’ll be too concerned about messing up their precious hair.” We all laughed.

  “I know one thing,” said Lyndz, very serious
ly.

  “What?” we all asked.

  “I’m starving!” replied Lyndz, and burst out laughing. “It’s all this concentrating!”

  I had forgotten to bring the goodies upstairs with me when we got back from the fair. I wasn’t sure that Mum and Dad would be thrilled about me going downstairs again, but what could I do? What is a sleepover without a midnight feast?

  I crept out of bed and shone my torch over to the door.

  “I’ll be as quick as I can!” I whispered.

  When I opened my bedroom door, something scrunchy fell on my foot. I screamed and looked down. It was a carrier bag containing all our goodies. Mum and Dad must have put it there. They are truly the best!

  “Hey guys, I’m back!” I called.

  I emptied the bag on to my bed and we all snuggled up together and dipped in. There were jelly babies and Love Hearts, fruit salads, three Kit-Kats, a tube of Smarties and a huge packet of popcorn. Kenny kept flicking the popcorn at the rest of us and then somehow we all joined in. Popcorn and sweets flew around my room like an alien snowstorm.

  Suddenly, I heard a familiar squeak on the stairs. My parents must be coming to bed and they were bound to check up on us.

  “Quick! My parents!” I hissed.

  We all scrambled inside our sleeping bags and turned off our torches. Sure enough, the door opened and a chink of light spilt across the floor. I prayed that whoever was looking in wouldn’t see all the mess of food around the beds. They mustn’t have done, because the door closed and nothing was said.

  “I love a good food fight!” Kenny whispered when they had gone. We all agreed.

  “We could have one in the open air tomorrow. That’s even better!” said Lyndz excitedly.

  Somewhere, deep inside my brain, the cogs began to turn. I could feel an idea forming.

  “That’s it!” I shouted. “I’ve got it! We could have a food fight and bombard the M&Ms. If we get to the park early enough we’ll be there before them. So we’ll have the advantage.”

  “Frankie brain-box Thomas strikes again!” laughed Kenny. “That’s a brilliant idea. I know the perfect place where we can see the park gates but where we’ll be hidden from view.”

  “We can make lots of jellies and stuff,” said Rosie.

  “And my parents won’t know. They’ll just think it’s for the picnic.” I laughed. I must admit, sometimes I even surprise myself with my outstanding brain power!

  We all chatted about the kind of foods we needed and how best to humiliate the M&Ms. Suddenly there was a banging on my door.

  “Come on girls! It’s after one o’clock,” shouted my dad. “Some of us need our beauty sleep, you know. If you don’t go to sleep now, you’ll be too tired for your picnic tomorrow!”

  The last thing I heard before closing my eyes was Kenny talking in her sleep.

  “Jelly tutus. Popcorn knickers. Splat!”

  She’s crazy, that friend of mine.

  The next morning I woke up really early. It was partly because I was so excited, partly because the sun was streaming through my curtains. And partly because two noisy blackbirds had decided to perform an opera outside my bedroom window.

  “Shoot them Frankie, please!” said a muffled voice. It was Kenny. She had her head buried beneath her pillow.

  I looked at my watch. It was only 5.30 am which was kind of early to be getting up. I peeped over the top of my sleeping bag. Rosie was tossing and turning and looking very restless, which meant that she was about to wake up. I couldn’t really see much of Fliss on the top bunk-bed, but she seemed to be asleep. Then the whistling started. It was loud. It was tuneless. It was Lyndz!

  “Shut up!” yelled Kenny. Her head was still under her pillow.

  “I’ve been listening to those birds for hours,” said Lyndz in between whistles. “And I don’t see why I should be the only one awake!”

  “That’s just selfish,” grumbled Fliss. She’s always like a bear with a sore head first thing in the morning.

  “Well, now we’re all awake, what shall we do?” asked Lyndz, sitting up in her sleeping bag. I don’t know how she manages it, but Lyndz always seems to be full of beans. The rest of us can get really ratty, as you probably know by now. But Lyndz always seems to be bright and cheerful. Not that I felt like being bright and cheerful with her at half-past five in the morning!

  “Come on, Lyndz, give us a break,” I said. “We can’t do anything much because we’ll wake my parents. And they would not be pleased.”

  “We don’t have to do anything noisy,” Lyndz pleaded.

  Lyndz doing something quietly was about as likely as Mr Blobby joining Boyzone.

  “Er, like when are you ever quiet?” asked Kenny, who had now emerged from under her pillow. Kenny is not a morning person!

  “I can be quiet,” argued Lyndz. “It’s just that in my house, if you’re not loud, you don’t get heard.”

  That was true. With four brothers to compete with, Lyndz had to make a lot of noise.

  “Couldn’t we have a round of International Gladiators?” pleaded Lyndz. “We can play it quietly.”

  Who was she trying to kid? When we play any Gladiator games, my dad says we sound like screaming banshees, whatever they are.

  “Besides,” argued Lyndz. “We could probably do with the practice.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. It wasn’t as though we were going to compete against anybody else. We only do it for fun.

  “We need to get our throwing arms warmed up for our food fight!” Lyndz laughed, triumphantly.

  As soon as she’d said that, Kenny sat bolt upright. It was as though someone had just wound her up.

  “Lyndz’s right,” she yelled. “We do need to practise. I can’t believe that I’d actually forgotten about the M&Ms!”

  “Sshhh!” I whispered. “You’re going to wake Mum and Dad and that’s the last thing I need. If they find out what we’ve got planned, I’m dead!”

  “We could just practise throwing soft things,” said Kenny, lobbing a sock at Fliss.

  “Get off!” grumbled Fliss from her sleeping bag. “We don’t need to practise throwing things. We’re all in the netball team, aren’t we?”

  “I’m not,” said Rosie.

  “Yes, but you should be,” said Lyndz and I quickly. Rosie not being in the netball team was a bit of a sore point all round. She plays Centre, the same as Fliss, so they can’t both be in the team at the same time.

  “Anyway,” I tried to reason with Kenny, “surely we can all throw jellies and stuff. It can’t be so difficult.”

  “Oh no!” shouted Rosie suddenly. “Jellies! We should have made them last night. They’ll never set in time.”

  She was right of course. Although I didn’t think Mum and Dad would have been too pleased if we’d been in the kitchen at one in the morning. “Look, it only needs two of us to make the jellies,” I said, taking charge. “So I’ll go with Rosie and the rest of you can stay here.”

  We crept downstairs and into the kitchen. I found a few packets of jelly in one of the cupboards.

  “Can you imagine what disasters we would have had if Kenny and Lyndz had been helping?” I said. We both laughed.

  I know that I wasn’t sure about Rosie when she joined the Sleepover Club at first. But it’s kind of nice having another sensible person in the group.

  We very carefully put the bowls of jelly into the fridge. One of the ones I was carrying slopped over the bowl a bit. I wiped up the mess then threw all the empty jelly packets away. Mum and Dad would never know we’d been in the kitchen.

  “We’d better see what chaos the others are causing,” I said to Rosie.

  As soon as I got half-way up the stairs, I heard the screaming. And I knew that I was in trouble.

  Rosie and I ran up to my room. But Dad had beaten us to it. His face was like thunder.

  “Right, young lady,” he said angrily to me. “Just what do you think you’re playing at?”

  “We just went
downstairs to make you and Mrs Thomas a cup of tea,” lied Rosie, very calmly. “But then we realised how early it was and thought that you might not be awake yet.”

  “Well, as you can see, Rosie, I am awake,” said Dad. His eyes looked very sleepy behind his glasses. “And I wonder just why I am awake so early on a Sunday morning.” Screams and shouts were still echoing from inside my room. Dad threw open the door. None of us was prepared for the scene which met us.

  The floor was already covered in popcorn and sweet wrappers from the night before. Now it was also littered with socks and knickers and Lyndz. She was sort of stuck underneath the camp-bed. Kenny was tickling her feet, which Lyndz absolutely hates. Fliss was still in bed, but was throwing things at Kenny. As we stood in the doorway her furry orange octopus came hurtling towards us. It hit Dad right in the face and knocked his glasses to the floor.

  As soon as she saw what she’d done, Fliss screamed and got out of bed. Unfortunately she forgot that she was in the top bunk. She fell to the floor with a loud thud.

  Rosie and I rushed over to her.

  “Are you all right?” we gasped. This sleepover was fast turning into an episode of Casualty.

  “Yes, I think so,” Fliss whimpered. She got up slowly and rubbed her back.

  “I think it’s just shock,” he said gently. “What about making that tea, Rosie? And as for the rest of you–” Dad looked sternly at Kenny, Lyndz and me. “Do you always behave like gorillas at this time in the morning?”

  “But Dad, I wasn’t even here!” I protested.

  “That’s no excuse,” he said. “Your friends are your guests. And it’s up to you to make sure that they behave as we expect you to.”

  “Sorry, Mr Thomas,” muttered Kenny and Lyndz. They were both blushing furiously. It’s always so much worse being told off by someone else’s father, isn’t it?

  “If I was a really awful father I wouldn’t let you go on your picnic,” Dad said.

  We all protested. Very loudly.

  “But as I’m a very nice man, you can still go IF you promise to be good – AND CLEAN UP THIS MESS! But I’m warning you – one more incident like this and you’re never going out again.”

  We started to scramble about on the floor, scooping popcorn into our hands. Rosie appeared with a tray of tea. One cup was for Fliss and one each for Mum and Dad. She really is very thoughtful.