Читать книгу: «The Sleepover Club Down Under»

CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Theree

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Have you been Invited to all these Sleepovers?

Sleepover Kit List

Copyright

About the Publisher

“Life is so hard When you don’t have that special someone That’s why I need you To help me through…”

“Kenny, you’re singing all the wrong words!” Fliss moaned.

“And why are you singing so much higher than the rest of us?” Lyndz wanted to know.

“Yeah, Kenny, you sound like a cat with a sore throat!” I added, sticking my fingers in my ears.

“Flippin’ cheek!” Kenny grumbled. “I’ll have you lot know I’ve got a fantastic voice – my gran said I ought to be on the stage!”

“Yeah, sweeping it, maybe!” I joked, and ducked as Kenny flicked a choc chip cookie at me.

Hi there! So you found your way to Fliss’s house OK, did you? Excellent! We were wondering where you’d got to. Come into the kitchen, and say hello to the rest of the Sleepover Club. Well, there’s only me, Kenny, Fliss and Lyndz here at the moment because Rosie’s late. We’re just practising the song we want to sing in assembly at school next week – if we can shut Kenny up, that is! It’s the theme tune from one of our fave programmes, that Australian soap opera South Beach. The words are a bit dodgy, but the tune’s all right!

We’re sleeping over at Fliss’s tonight (we take it in turns to have a sleepover every week at one of our houses, that’s why we’re called the Sleepover Club – obviously). Anyway, you can see we were all pretty hyped up and being a bit loud and giggly. It was exciting stuff, what with Christmas coming up and our school panto (which you’ll probably know about already!), but there was another reason why we were getting all over-excited. I’ll give you a clue – roll those drums please, here it comes – BRAD MARTIN!

What do you mean, you don’t know what I’m talking about? Oh, please! Where have you been all your life? You have to know who Brad Martin is! You watch South Beach, don’t you? You don’t? Oh. Well, I’ll just have to explain everything then!

Anyway, like I said, there we all were round Fliss’s, sitting in the kitchen drinking Sunny Delight and waiting for Rosie, and talking about what we wanted for Christmas.

“I really want a lizard!” Kenny said, and we all fell about laughing. We’re used to Kenny being crazy, but sometimes she can still surprise us!

“What, a real one?” Fliss asked, wrinkling up her nose in disgust.

“No, a dead one!” Kenny retorted. “Of course I want a real one.”

“Gross!” Fliss shuddered.

“That’s what Molly the Monster says,” Kenny replied with an evil grin. Molly’s her sister, although Kenny wishes she wasn’t. They’re always trying to get one over on each other, and you know what Kenny’s like – she usually wins!

“You only want a lizard to annoy Molly,” Lyndz pointed out.

“So?” Kenny shrugged. “That’s a good reason!”

“It’s not very nice for the lizard!” I said. “And anyway, Kenny, your pets never survive!”

It’s true. Kenny’s got the killer touch where pets are concerned.

“My mum says I can have loads of new clothes,” Fliss said, “and I want some boots and some make-up as well.”

Kenny groaned. “You’re so girly, Felicity!”

Kenny thinks that’s the worst insult she can give anyone. If someone called her ‘girly’, she’d thump them, but Fliss actually looked quite pleased!

“So?” she said. “I am a girl!”

Just then Fliss’s mum waddled in from the living room. It wasn’t long before the babies were born, and Mrs Proudlove’s tummy was so big, I was surprised she could walk!

“More biscuits, girls?” she enquired. “Or would you like some doughnuts?”

“Both, please!” Kenny said.

“I bet you can’t wait for the twins to be born, Fliss,” Lyndz remarked.

“Yeah,” Kenny said wickedly. “Two lots of smelly nappies to change!”

Fliss looked sick. I reckoned she’d faint away dead on the spot if she had to change a dirty nappy! Mind you, she did change Rosie’s neighbour’s baby’s nappy once, but that was ages ago.

“Where’s Rosie got to?” I wondered. “If she doesn’t hurry up, she’s going to miss…”

“SOUTH BEACH!” the others yelled, and we all rushed into the living room to grab the best seat on the sofa.

I can’t believe you’ve never seen South Beach. It was one of our best programmes – we liked it just as much as Neighbours and Home and Away. Anyway, Kenny got the best seat by elbowing everyone else out of the way.

“Ow!” Fliss said crossly, hopping round the living room holding her foot. “Kenny, you trod on my toe, you idiot!”

“And you elbowed me in the ribs!” I grumbled, plonking myself down next to Kenny and elbowing her back.

“Ssh, it’s starting!” Lyndz said, calming everyone down as usual.

“Life is so hard When you don’t have that special someone That’s why I need you To help me through…”

We all started singing the theme tune (well, yelling it really) and Mrs Proudlove waddled as fast as she could into the kitchen and shut the door. What a cheek – I didn’t think our singing was that bad.

I suppose South Beach wasn’t really that different to Neighbours or Home and Away. It was set in a beach café, and it had loads of good-looking people in it who all had big problems with their families and friends, just like the other two programmes. But South Beach did have ONE thing that Neighbours and Home and Away didn’t – and that was Brad Martin, the hunkiest guy in the entire universe!

“Ooh, Brad Martin’s so gorgeous!” Fliss drooled as the credits started and fit-looking surfers ran along the beach with their boards. At the front was Brad Martin, who played Rick, a waiter at the beach café. He’s got long blond hair and blue eyes and Fliss loves him even more than Ryan Scott, who’s in our class at school. Even Kenny thinks he’s gorgeous, although she won’t admit it.

“He’s cute!” I agreed.

“He’s OK – for a guy!” Kenny snorted, pretending not to be interested.

“I wonder if he’ll be just as gorgeous in real life?” Lyndz said hopefully.

Remember I told you that there was something else we were really excited about, apart from our sleepover that night? Well, we were actually going to see Brad in the flesh! No, really! I nearly died when I read in the local newspaper a few months ago that he was coming to Leicester to appear in the panto Aladdin. Leicester’s the nearest big city to Cuddington, the village where we all live, so I pestered my mum and dad for ages to take us all to see him. They finally agreed, although I had to promise to do the vacuuming for a week. We were going to the panto near the end of the Christmas holidays before we went back to school, and we could hardly wait.

“So who do you think Rick’s going to choose?” Fliss asked as the programme started.

At the moment Rick was in love with two different girls, and we were dying to know which one he was going to go out with.

“Charlene,” said Kenny immediately.

“No, Melanie,” Fliss argued.

“Melanie’s too girly,” Kenny retorted. That was just why Fliss liked her!

“Well, Charlene’s too much of a tomboy,” Fliss pointed out. “And anyway, she’s still in love with Tony.”

“I thought Charlene didn’t like Tony any more after she found out he swindled Mr and Mrs Williams out of all that money,” I objected.

“That wasn’t Tony’s fault,” Lyndz reminded me, “Luke set him up.”

“I thought Luke fancied Melanie anyway,” Kenny put in.

“No, Luke fancies Noelene,” I interrupted her, “only he doesn’t know that Noelene’s secretly married to Andrew.”

“Ssh, we’re missing it!” Fliss wailed as Rick began to have a row with Melanie about Charlene.

The rest of the programme wasn’t that good (because those were the bits Brad Martin wasn’t in), but Luke asked Noelene out and Andrew hit him, which was quite exciting. Then at the end of the programme, Rick had a row with Charlene about Melanie, and he went out on his surfboard on his own. He fell off and hit his head and the programme finished with him lying unconscious on the beach.

“Oh no!” Fliss gasped, looking worried. “I hope he’s OK.”

“Yeah, bound to be,” Kenny said. “He looked OK when I saw him in the newspaper last week, opening that new supermarket in Leicester!”

Fliss gave her a shove. “I mean, I hope they don’t kill him off in the programme!”

“There’d be a riot if they did!” Lyndz said.

“I wish I could’ve gone to see Brad opening that supermarket,” I grumbled. “But my mum wouldn’t let me have the day off school. Typical!”

My mum and dad are both lawyers, which is a real pain. Have you ever tried winning an argument against two lawyers?

“Brad must be staying in Leicester while he’s doing the panto,” Lyndz said hopefully. “Maybe we’ll see him while we’re out shopping with our parents or something.”

That’s Lyndz all over – she always looks on the bright side!

“Some chance!” Kenny scoffed. “Leicester’s huge! Tell you what though…” she grinned at us. “Maybe we’ll be able to go backstage and get his autograph after we’ve been to the panto!”

We all got pretty excited then!

“Do you think we’ll be allowed?” Fliss gasped.

Kenny shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But I’ll think of a wicked plan to get us in, don’t worry!”

Fliss, Lyndz and I were worrying already. Kenny’s plans aren’t exactly foolproof – or even legal, half the time.

“Where on earth has Rosie got to?” Lyndz asked.

“Maybe I’d better give her a call,” Fliss suggested, but right then the doorbell rang.

“About time too!” Kenny moaned as Fliss went to answer it. “We can’t have a proper sleepover with one person missing!”

Next moment we heard Rosie apologising breathlessly in the hall.

“Sorry, Fliss! Mum’s car broke down, and we had to wait for the AA to come and you’ll never guess what happened—OW!”

There was a loud crash, and Lyndz, Kenny and me rushed out into the hall to see what was going on. Rosie was sprawled on the hall carpet, while Fliss was in stitches.

“She tripped over the rug!” Fliss spluttered helplessly.

“Felicity!” Mrs Proudlove hurried out of the kitchen. “Don’t just stand there laughing, help Rosie up!”

Fliss hauled Rosie to her feet, while the rest of us stood around trying not to snigger.

“You’ll never guess what happened—” Rosie began again.

“So tell us!” I said as we went into the living room. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting anything that exciting. Rosie gets wound up over nothing at all sometimes. “You look like you’re about to burst!”

“Yeah, you’re as red as a ripe tomato!” Kenny told her helpfully, but Rosie wasn’t listening. She looked round at us all, her eyes wide.

“I saw Brad Martini!” she announced. “Right here in Cuddington!”

No-one said anything at first, not even Kenny. But I guessed that the others were thinking exactly the same thing as me – that Rosie had gone completely nuts!

Meanwhile Rosie was frowning at us.

“Didn’t you hear me?” she began. “I said—”

“Oh, we heard what you said all right,” Kenny interrupted her. “We just don’t believe it, that’s all!”

“Yeah, nice try, Rosie,” I added. “You really had us going there – for about two seconds!”

Rosie turned red. “I’m not winding you up,” she snapped. “I really did see Brad Martin!”

“So what did you do? Ask him where his surfboard was?” Fliss asked sarcastically.

“Oh, give up, Rosie!” Kenny snorted. “Nobody believes you!”

“You must’ve made a mistake,” Lyndz said kindly.

Rosie looked absolutely furious, and that was what made me stop and think. I mean, Rosie likes the odd wind-up, but she’d never tried to pull anything like this before.

“OK, Rosie, tell us exactly what happened,” I said, glaring at Kenny and the others to make sure they got the message. Kenny rolled her eyes as if to say You’re as barmy as she is! But she didn’t say anything out loud.

“Well, Mum’s car broke down in Riverside Avenue,” Rosie explained, “and she went to the phonebox to call the AA. I was sitting in the car, and I saw Brad go past—”

Kenny couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Oh, pull the other one – it’s got ten million bells on it!” she exclaimed.

“Are you sure it was Brad, Rosie?” I asked. “It could have been someone who looked like him.”

“No, it was him,” Rosie replied immediately, “I know it was!”

She sounded pretty convincing. I looked at Fliss and Lyndz. They were both looking doubtful, as if they didn’t know what to believe. Meanwhile, Kenny was still certain that it was a wind-up.

“OK, so what was he wearing?” she asked.

“Jeans, a black fleece and a black baseball cap,” Rosie snapped.

Kenny pounced straight away. “If he was wearing a baseball cap, how do you know it was Brad?” she pointed out triumphantly.

“I got a good look at his face as he walked towards the car,” Rosie retorted.

We all looked at each other. Rosie was obviously convinced that she had seen Brad Martin.

“Why didn’t you get out and run after him?” Kenny asked suspiciously.

“Because my mum was coming back by then, and she stopped me,” Rosie said sulkily.

“Oh!” Fliss squealed all of a sudden.

“What is it?” we all chorused.

“Well, what if—?” Fliss stopped. “No, he couldn’t be!”

“Couldn’t what?” we all repeated impatiently.

“Well…” Fliss hopped from one foot to the other. “I suppose he might be…”

“MIGHT BE WHAT?” the rest of us repeated. I was beginning to feel like Polly the Parrot!

“Well, we were saying before that Brad must be staying nearby if he’s in the panto,” Fliss finally managed to get the words out. “Maybe he’s staying in Cuddington!”

Rosie nearly fainted away on the spot. “He can’t be! Can he?”

“Yes! That must be it!” Lyndz agreed, looking excited.

“But if he is in Cuddington, where would he be staying?” I asked doubtfully.

Before anyone could reply, Fliss’s mum came in with a cup of tea and a magazine.

“Still here, girls?” she asked brightly. “I thought you were going upstairs to Fliss’s room.”

“We are.” I jumped to my feet, dragging Kenny with me. “Come on, you lot.”

We all legged it upstairs and into Fliss’s bedroom. Once we were inside, Fliss closed the door and we all piled on to the bed and started whispering to each other. We were getting really excited by this time, although Kenny still wasn’t totally convinced.

“Do you really think Brad’s in Cuddington?” Lyndz asked.

“I know he is!” Rosie replied.

“Maybe we should go and look for him,” I suggested.

“I’ll die if I see him!” Fliss added.

“Why are we whispering?” Kenny wanted to know.

“In case anyone else finds out!” I told her. “This is one big secret!”

Kenny frowned. “Hey, hang on a minute,” she said. “If Rosie’s seen Brad in Cuddington, how come no-one else has?”

“What do you mean?” Fliss asked.

“Well, other people must have seen him too,” Kenny pointed out, “and no-one at school’s mentioned it. It’d be all over the place in five minutes flat if they had!”

“The panto only started a week or two ago,” Fliss pointed out. “He might only just have moved in.”

“Yeah, we’ll get the latest when we go back to school on Monday,” I said. “Someone else might have seen him – we just haven’t heard about it yet.”

“Well, if Brad is here, where would he be staying?” Kenny wasn’t giving in that easily. “There aren’t any really posh hotels in Cuddington.”

That threw us a bit.

“He might be staying at Buckingham House,” Rosie suggested.

Kenny burst out laughing. “What, with Mrs Windsor? He’d have to be desperate!”

Buckingham House is a B&B in Cuddington, and it’s probably the poshest guest house in the village. But the lady who runs it, Mrs Windsor, is a right old snob – I reckon she called it Buckingham House because she thinks she’s the queen of Cuddington!

“I’ve got it!” Fliss suddenly bounced off the bed. “Why don’t we ring the theatre? They’ll be able to tell us where Brad’s staying!”

“Good idea.” Kenny jumped up too. “Give me the phone!”

Fliss has just got her own girly pink phone in her bedroom and she’s dead proud of it. Anyway, Kenny grabbed the receiver, and Fliss went to get the phone book, but she started moaning when she came back.

“It’s my phone, Kenny. I ought to make the call!”

Kenny raised her eyebrows at her. “Can you do a posh grown-up voice?”

“No,” Fliss muttered.

“OK, here goes.” Kenny tapped in the number of the theatre, and we all waited, holding our breath until we heard the phone being picked up at the other end. Kenny immediately pinched her nose with her fingers, and said, “Hello? Who is this please?” in this really posh voice.

“It’s the doorman at the theatre!” she hissed at us, covering the mouthpiece. Then she pinched her nose again and said grandly, “This is Brad Martin’s aunt speaking. I need to get in touch with him, so kindly tell me where he lives!”

Meanwhile the rest of us were rolling around on Fliss’s bed, stuffing our hands in our mouths to stop ourselves from laughing.

“I see,” Kenny said after a moment or two. “Well, thank you very much.” And she put the phone down.

“Did he give you the address?” I asked eagerly.

“Is Brad staying in Cuddington?” Rosie chimed in.

“Or is he in Leicester?” Lyndz asked.

“Don’t keep us in suspense, Kenny!” Fliss begged.

“The doorman said I was about the tenth person to ring today trying to find out where Brad was staying, and to stop pestering him!” Kenny said.

Our faces fell.

“So how can we find out?” Rosie asked.

“Well, we can’t do anything now,” I pointed out. “Anyway, aren’t we supposed to be having a sleepover?”

But it turned out that the sleepover was pretty much a wash-out after that, because all we did was talk about whether or not Brad could really be staying in Cuddington. We had a sort of half-hearted pillow fight and we had a midnight feast and we wrote in our diaries and we did all the kinds of things we normally do, but we weren’t really interested. There was only one thing we wanted to know. Where was Brad Martin? By this time, I think we were all convinced that Rosie had seen him – even Kenny!

It was only when we were in our sleeping bags on Fliss’s floor that I started to have second thoughts. We’d just sung our sleepover song, and everyone was getting a bit drowsy.