The Sleepover Club Surfs the Net Page 5

  “Are you all right, Felicity?” asked Dad. “You’ve gone a very funny colour.”

  Fliss was bright red with excitement. “I was just thinking,” she stammered. “Mum has leaflets for her beauty therapy bound in plastic covers at a place up the High Street. They look dead posh. I’m going shopping with her this morning and I could take our Home Page there. It would look ever so good and the judges would be bound to notice it.”

  The rest of us looked at each other. It wasn’t that we didn’t trust Fliss. We’d all seen her mum’s leaflets enough times, and they did look classy. It’s just that Fliss can be, well, a bit dippy.

  “But we’ve got to post it today,” I reminded her. “Will you have enough time? Shouldn’t we just post it now?”

  “I’ll have bags of time,” Fliss promised. “I’ll even go to the Post Office and put the right stamps on too.”

  “But we should all be there to post it,” said Rosie. “It is a joint effort after all.”

  “What time’s the last post on a Saturday?” I asked Mum.

  “12.30 at the box on the corner,” she replied.

  “OK, can we all meet there at quarter past twelve then?” I asked.

  The others all said that they could. Kenny would have finished her badminton by then, Rosie was going home to help do the shopping but could get back in time, and Lyndz was staying with me for the morning until her dad could pick her up to take her riding in the afternoon. Fliss was of course going out with her mum.

  Dad gave us an envelope to put our entry in, and Rosie addressed it because she’s got the neatest handwriting. Then we all coughed up some money to Fliss for the cover and the postage.

  “You will be back in time, won’t you Fliss?” I asked her for the hundredth time when her mum called for her.

  “Yes,” she sighed impatiently. “How many more times? You should be grateful to me that I’m getting this done for you!”

  The rest of us rolled our eyes.

  “What is she like?” said Kenny.

  When the others had gone and Lyndz and I were left by ourselves, I admitted that I had a funny feeling about letting Fliss loose with something so important.

  “A sort of a ‘something’s-going-to-go-wrong’ feeling?” Lyndz asked.

  “Mmm,” I nodded.

  “Me too!” said Lyndz grimly.

  Whilst Lyndz was with me we had a really cool time playing around on the Internet. I finally had the chance to look up ‘horses’ for her, seeing as she’s so nuts about them. There were millions of web sites so Lyndz was well pleased.

  After a while though, she said, “Actually Frankie, there’s a favour I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

  “Oh yes?” I wondered what on earth it could be.

  She took a scrumpled piece of paper from her bag.

  “My grandparents in Holland are on the Internet and they’ve sent me their email address. Do you think I could send them a message using your computer?”

  Now, I’d been a bit confused about all this email lark myself. Dad had explained that it’s just a way of sending computer messages to other people. It’s brilliant because they get them almost immediately, no matter where they are in the world. Sending a message to Lyndz’s grandparents would be a fab chance to see how it all worked. I called Dad and asked him to show us how it was done.

  “It’s really easy,” he told us. “You just go into the Mail facility, put the email address of the person you’re sending the message to, and briefly say what it’s about. Then all you have to do is type your message and post it by clicking the mouse on the ‘post’ box.”

  It all seemed pretty easy, so Lyndz typed:

  Hi there Gran and Grandad. I hope you’re well. I’m typing this on Frankie’s computer because she’s just got signed on to the Internet. Please send me a message soon.

  Love Lyndsey XXX

  “How will they know where to send a reply to?” I asked Dad.

  “It will show our email address on their computer when they pick up their message,” Dad explained. “Our computer will be like a postal service for messages between Lyndsey and her grandparents.”

  “Speaking about postal services,” I said, “I hope Fliss manages to get everything done in time to post our entry off.”

  “I’m sure she will,” said Dad as he left the room. “It sounded simple enough to have a cover put on your work.”

  Lyndz and I looked at each other. Where Fliss is concerned, nothing is ever simple.

  Before we knew it, it was almost twelve. Lyndz and I ran out to the postbox where Kenny was already waiting. Rosie’s mum dropped her off just after we’d got there.

  “I can’t wait to see our entry!” she squeaked. “I bet it looks fantastic now. We’re bound to win with it, don’t you think?”

  “As long as Fliss hasn’t had it covered in lime green or something,” said Kenny.

  “Here she is now!” beamed Lyndz. “Let’s ask her!”

  Fliss was walking slowly towards us.

  “Let’s see it!” we all yelled, running up the road to meet her.

  “Where is it, then?” asked Kenny. “Is it in your bag? Come on, give us a look!” And she started to prod about in Fliss’s shoulder bag.

  “Don’t do that!” Fliss snapped. She was all white and looked kind of funny.

  “Are you all right, Fliss?” I asked, suddenly worried.

  Fliss’s chin wobbled. “I just don’t want everyone pushing around me,” she said.

  We all stood back so that we weren’t crowding her.

  “I bet you’ve been rushing, haven’t you?” asked Rosie sympathetically.

  Fliss nodded.

  “Yes, well, we’re sorry that you’re tired and that, but where’s the entry?” asked Kenny. “We want to see it before we post it.”

  Fliss started rooting about in her bag, then stopped.

  “I’ve, er…” she stammered.

  “It must be in there somewhere,” snapped Kenny, grabbing her bag from her.

  “It’s not,” blurted Fliss tragically. “I’ve lost it!”

  “You’ve done WHAT?” I yelled.

  “Imusthaveputtheenvelopedownsome whereandIcan’tfindit,” she gabbled very fast. “When I got home, I didn’t have it with me.”

  The others all started yelling, but I tried to stay as calm as possible.

  “Well, where did you have it last? Did you go to the shop to get the cover put on it?”

  “Of course I did,” Fliss snapped. “I’m not completely stupid, you know.”

  Kenny muttered something under her breath.

  “Look, time is running out,” I said quickly. “Could you have left it in another shop?”

  “I must have done. I went to the Post Office and bought the stamps, but I didn’t seal up the envelope because I wanted you all to see how great it looked before we posted it.”

  I looked at my watch. It was already after twelve, and we didn’t have much time.

  “We’re going to have to go back and look for it,” I told the others. I could see Dad in the garden, so I shouted to him to see if he could give us a lift to the shops. He said that he would, and we all piled into our estate car.

  It only took a few minutes to drive to the High Street but it felt like forever. Dad dropped us outside the Post Office, and I told him that we’d walk home.

  “Where did you go from here?” I asked Fliss.

  “Well, I went into that greengrocer’s with Mum,” began Fliss, pointing over the road. “Then I went into the newsagent’s to buy the new Girl Talk and I got some sweets as well, pear drops, lovely, do you want one?” She held out the bag.

  “No!” I said through gritted teeth. The others took one.

  “After that I went to the chemist to look at the new make-up, they’ve got some lovely pinky-purple lipstick and nail varnish to match…”

  “Fliss, will you shut up!” I yelled. “We don’t need to know every single detail about your shopping trip. We’re trying to fin
d our Home Page, remember? The one you lost?”

  Fliss’s eyes filled with tears.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” I said more gently, “but this is kind of important and we are running out of time. We’ll have to split up. Kenny, you go into the greengrocer’s, Lyndz can go into the newsagent’s and I’ll go into the chemist. Fliss and Rosie, you see if you can think of anywhere else it could be.”

  The others nodded and we all ran into the shops.

  The chemist was busy with crying babies and their frazzled mothers. It took me ages to find someone I could ask about our envelope. When I did ask the woman behind the counter, she went to see if the owner knew anything about it. She came back and said she was sorry but they hadn’t had anything handed in. I just hoped that the others had found it. But when I got outside, everyone was still empty-handed. We’d checked everywhere, but no-one had seen our envelope.

  “That’s it,” I mumbled as we dejectedly walked back home. “All that hard work for nothing.”

  Suddenly a car horn blasted. I nearly jumped out of my skin, and turned to see Fliss’s mum pulling up beside us.

  “Frankie’s dad told me you’d be here. Look what I’ve found!” she said, thrusting an envelope towards us. It was our Home Page competition entry!

  “Where was it?” gasped Fliss.

  “It had got muddled up with some of my shopping,” Fliss’s mum explained. “I found it when I was unpacking my bags. I told you that might have happened, didn’t I Felicity?”

  Fliss nodded guiltily.

  “You mean you didn’t check?” I yelled. “We’ve trailed round the shops for nothing?”

  Fliss looked all red in the face: partly exhausted and partly embarrassed.

  “Well, let’s find a postbox and post it – quick!” I shouted.

  “But see how great it looks first,” insisted Fliss, pulling the entry from the envelope.

  Our Home Page did look pretty hot, we had to admit, but there was no time to admire it properly.

  “Where’s the nearest postbox?” Lyndz asked.

  “I’m sure there’s one round the corner,” said Fliss.

  We all started running. Now, this was very familiar. It only seemed like two minutes since we’d been running to catch the post before. Rosie must have remembered that too.

  “Hadn’t we better double check the address?” she said, coming to a sudden stop. “Remember what happened to that entry for the bedroom makeover competition?”

  We all looked at Kenny. We remembered the mix up with addresses only too well.

  “Hey, that’s not fair!” protested Kenny. “And anyway, I didn’t write the envelope this time.”

  We stopped running and carefully checked the address. Then we started running again. This time, Fliss suddenly ground to a halt.

  “Make sure it’s sealed properly!” she screamed. “It would be awful if our Home Page design fell out before it even got there.”

  We all stopped again, and gave the envelope a good lick and press down.

  “Stop, start, stop, start,” grumbled Kenny. “At this rate…”

  “Oh NO!” Rosie wailed, pointing frantically up the road.

  We all turned round to look where she was pointing.

  “I don’t believe it!” I gasped. The others groaned. Fliss gave a little sob.

  It was the post van, and it was driving away. We had missed the last post. Now our Home Page competition entry would never get there on time

  .

  “You are unbelievable, Fliss!” yelled Kenny. “You had one simple thing to do and you messed that up. Any normal person would have checked the shopping first before they got in such a flap. But not you, oh no. Panic first, think later, that’s what you always do, isn’t it?”

  “Well if you hadn’t ruined our work the night before, we wouldn’t have been up all night. Then I wouldn’t have been so tired, would I?” Fliss yelled back. “And if I hadn’t been so tired I wouldn’t have lost it at all.”

  “Shush!” I said, trying to calm them both down. I couldn’t face any more arguments.

  “I can’t believe that we worked so hard and our entry isn’t even going to get there,” sighed Rosie. “I mean, it was so good. We would have won first prize for sure. It’s like the bedroom makeover competition all over again.”

  “Well, I don’t think we should give in so easily this time,” I told them. “At least we’ve still got our entry, and it hasn’t been sent to London by mistake.”

  Everyone gave Kenny a dirty look. Kenny, for once, was silent.

  “We have to keep trying,” I said.

  “But the deadline’s on Monday at five o’clock,” said Lyndz. “There isn’t another post now until Monday morning and that’s too late.”

  Then I was struck by a brainwave. “What’s to stop us actually taking our entry in?” I asked the others.

  We had stopped by my front gate.

  “How can we do that?” asked Fliss.

  “We need someone to drive us there – tomorrow!” I declared.

  While the others were thinking about that, Mr Collins, Lyndz’s dad, drove up in his big van. Kenny, Rosie, Fliss and Lyndz all looked at me with great big grins on their faces. Then we all turned towards him and smiled very, very sweetly.

  “Did you have a good sleepover?” he asked. “You certainly look pleased enough with yourselves.”

  We didn’t say anything, we just carried on grinning. Mum and Dad had come to say hello to Mr Collins and they just couldn’t work out what was going on either.

  “Are you ready for the stables, Lyndsey?” her dad asked, still looking a bit confused. “I’ve got your riding gear in the van. You can change when you’re there.”

  “Ask him!” I whispered in Lyndz’s ear and we pushed her forward.

  “Erm, Dad,” she began.

  “Yes Lyndsey?”

  “We were wondering… well, you see, we’ve got this problem. We missed the post with this competition entry and we need to get it in tomorrow because the deadline’s on Monday. So we need to take it, hic, tomorrow, hic, and, hic…”

  “You’ve got a big van and we could all go together if you’d take us,” I continued eagerly.

  “And we’d be ever so grateful!” added Rosie.

  “And the others will kill me if we don’t get the entry in on time,” squeaked Fliss, “because it’s all my fault!”

  Lyndz’s dad began to laugh.

  “Well if you put it like that Felicity, I don’t have much choice, do I? But where exactly am I supposed to be taking you?”

  Fliss showed him the address on the envelope. It was the Mercury newspaper office in Leicester.

  “Yes, I reckon I can get you there,” Lyndz’s dad said when he’d looked at it.

  We all did high fives and hugged each other.

  “Thanks, hic, Dad!” said Lyndz, giving him a big hug.

  “You run along and get your stuff, Lyndsey,” smiled her father. “And you’d better try to get rid of those hiccups too.”

  We all ran inside with Lyndz. Whilst Rosie and Fliss got her sleepover kit together, I worked on trying to get rid of her hiccups. It was no good asking her to hold her breath because she kept giggling.

  All of a sudden Kenny let out this really chilling scream.

  “What’s the matter?” we squealed, nearly jumping out of our skins.

  “Nothing,” replied Kenny calmly, “but I bet your hiccups have gone, haven’t they Lyndz?”

  Lyndz gulped a little. “Yes, they have,” she nodded. “But you nearly scared me half to death!”

  We were still all laughing about that when we went outside.

  “Right you lot, it’s arranged,” said Mr Collins as he took Lyndz’s bag from her and put it inside the van. “As it happens I have to go into Leicester tomorrow afternoon anyway. So if the rest of you can get round here to Frankie’s by two o’clock, I’ll take you to deliver your competition entry.”

  “Yes!” we all cheered.

&n
bsp; “You just make sure you hold on to that entry form until tomorrow Fliss,” I warned her. Fliss just tutted as though she was fed up with the whole thing. But I noticed that her grip on the envelope tightened. I bet she even slept with it that night!

  I must admit that for me Sunday couldn’t come fast enough. And when it did I watched the clock all morning, but every five minutes seemed like a lifetime. I never thought two o’clock would come. But of course it did. With a bang. Fliss, Rosie and Kenny all arrived together and knocked on the front door so loudly I thought they were a herd of hippos.

  “You have got the competition entry, haven’t you Fliss?” I asked as soon as I opened the door.

  “Of course I have!” she said crossly. “I’m not likely to forget that again, am I?”

  Kenny pulled a face behind Fliss’s back. Rosie and I spluttered with laughter. But before Fliss could ask what we were laughing about there was a loud hooting outside.

  “Right you lot, are you all set?” shouted Mr Collins from the van as he drew up.

  Lyndz was waving at us like a maniac from inside. We all piled in to join her, waved to my mum and dad who had come to the gate with us, and drove off.

  Cuddington, where we live, isn’t really very far from Leicester, but that Sunday it seemed to take us forever to get there. There seemed to be about a million cars on the road and they were all as slow as tortoises.

  “I could run faster than this!” said Kenny through gritted teeth. She started to drum her fingers against the window.

  “Will you stop doing that!” yelled Fliss. “You’re really getting on my nerves!”

  “Then we’re just about even,” snarled Kenny, “because you’re always getting on mine.”

  “Girls, please!” shouted Mr Collins from the front of the van. “It’s bad enough being in this traffic without you two having a go at each other. Let’s put some music on. That should cheer things up.”

  He pushed in a cassette. Some screechy guitar music blasted out. It was awful. Lyndz’s dad quickly turned it off.

  “What was that?” I asked.