Fiona Cummings - Sleepover Girls in the Ring

Anyway, when I did manage to get a word in, I told Mum all about Circus Jamboree. But before Mum could say anything, Molly piped up:

“Edward Marsh told me about that. He said it’s supposed to be really brilliant.”

“Bully for Edward Marsh,” I spat back. “If he’s so wonderful I’m surprised he’s not starring in the circus. All by himself. He could manage that, couldn’t he?”

“Well actually, he’s—”

I groaned. I didn’t want to listen to any more about Edward Marsh, so I yelled over the top of her: “Mum! Is it OK if I go to the circus next Saturday for Lyndz’s birthday?”

That shut Molly up. She went all quiet and flounced out of the room. I called out after her:

“Ha-ha! I’m going to the circus and you’re not!”

I heard her stomp upstairs and slam our bedroom door. Yeah! One-nil!

The next morning we all met up by the poster advertising the circus.

“Well?” Lyndz asked eagerly. “Mum and Dad said they’d take us. Can you come?”

We all started chattering at once, and it took a while before we realised that everyone was up for it.

“And I’ve got even more news!” announced Fliss dramatically. “Mum says that we can celebrate Lyndz’s birthday at my house!”

“You mean a sleepover? Brill!”

We all started leaping about.

“Er wait, no!” Fliss squeaked. We all looked at her. “What Mum said was that we can have a birthday tea for Lyndz at my place on Sunday afternoon.”

“Oh!”

It was impossible to hide our disappointment, but Lyndz recovered the quickest.

“That’s great Fliss, really kind!” she smiled. “It means my birthday’s going to last all weekend. How cool is that?”

We all laughed, but we knew that no way was tea at Fliss’s going to be as much fun as a sleepover. I mean, for one thing, Fliss’s mum virtually dusts us down as soon as we get through the door. It kind of takes all the pleasure out of things, if you know what I mean. And now that she’s pregnant, she’s probably even worse. (Yup – with twins, would you believe? But that, I guess, is another story.) Still, tea at her place was better than nothing.

We somehow managed to get through the week before the circus, and by the time Saturday came round I was dead excited. I put on my clean Leicester City football shirt and my best pair of jeans and went downstairs to wait for Lyndz. Her parents have this great big van, so they were collecting us all on the way to the circus. Molly was downstairs too, looking anxiously out of the window.

“Don’t tell me. You’re going to rush out and tell Lyndz that I’m ill and that you’re going to take my place instead!” I teased.

“I’m going out too, if you must know!” she said smugly.

Actually, she was done up like a dog’s dinner: new skirt, best shoes, loads of make-up.

“You’re not going to be sad and wander about hoping that Edward Marsh will actually notice you, are you?” I chortled.

“Shut up, Kenny!” Molly thumped me hard on the back.

I would have flattened her, I swear, but I heard the van pull up and saw Lyndz running to the door.

The circus Big Top was amazing when we got there. I mean, it looked quite small from the outside, but when we got in and found our seats it seemed ENORMOUS. It smelt a bit damp and earthy, but it felt surprisingly warm.

“Look how high those trapezes are!” marvelled Frankie, pointing way up towards the roof of the tent. “And there isn’t a safety net either!”

Shivers spread down my spine. I love doing daredevil things, but that looked a bit too scary, even for me. Fliss said she felt sick just looking up there.

More and more people crowded in until the tent was packed. Then there was a drum roll and a spotlight shone into the centre of the ring. A tall figure in a fancy red suit ran into it and introduced himself as the Ringmaster of Circus Jamboree. He told us a bit about what we’d be seeing – then it was on with the show!

I can’t really begin to describe everything to you, there was too much to take in all at once. There were these amazing contortionists who actually sat on their own heads! And whilst they were performing, there were also acrobats doing flick-flacks and cartwheels, not just by themselves but in sort of formation. If they’d got their timing wrong, well – I don’t even want to think about how badly they’d have been injured. And there were jugglers who juggled with everything from chairs to balls of fire. Amazing! And that was only in the first half! By the time the Ringmaster announced that there was going to be an interval, I felt totally exhausted!

“Isn’t it brilliant!” gasped Rosie. “I didn’t know where to look next!”

“And did you notice that there are three performers who look about our age?” asked Fliss. “Fancy being able to do all that! It was just unbelievable!”

“Are you enjoying it, girls?” asked Lyndz’s mum. “Anyone fancy an ice-cream? I think there’s someone selling them over there.”

Frankie nudged me. “That’s not… no, it can’t be!” she said.

“Who?”

“I thought I saw Molly, that’s all.”

“WHAT? WHERE?”

She pointed. Just in front of the woman selling ice-creams, there did appear to be someone who looked suspiciously like Molly. And she was sitting with a couple of girls I recognised from her class.

“Come on!” I urged Frankie, and I started picking my way through the crowds towards them.

“Are you going to have a word with her?” asked Frankie, following me.

“Yeah, you could say that!” I smirked.

I’d had this great plan. I was going to embarrass her in front of the whole circus, and particularly in front of her stupid mates. It was obvious that Molly still hadn’t spotted me, so I got down on all fours and crawled along the empty row of seats at the back of her. And as I crawled, I planned what to do. Making her jump wouldn’t be enough. I’d have to do something really loud to attract the maximum attention.

Then it hit me. What is Molly always boring us at home with? You’ve guessed it. When I was immediately behind her I stood up and yelled at the top of my voice:

“EDWARD MARSH!”

The whole place went silent. Then a voice piped up.

“Yes! Who wants me?”

Well, you could have knocked me down with a feather. I hadn’t actually expected Edward Marsh to be there, I’d just wanted to embarrass Molly by shouting out his name!!

Someone tapped me on the shoulder.

“I said, who wants me?” the same boy’s voice addressed me coolly.

I turned round – and found my face covered in ice-cream.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” smirked this blond creep of a boy, holding a more than slightly splodged cone. “It must have slipped!”

Molly was sitting back on her seat again and was spluttering with laughter. “Ignore my stupid sister, Edward,” she said, flashing a creepy smile at the boy. “She must have a personality disorder!”

“At least I’ve got a personality!” I snarled back, wiping ice-cream off my cheeks.

“Who was that boy?” squealed Fliss when we came back again. “Babe or what? Er, Kenny – did you know you had ice-cream on your face?”

That was the last thing I needed, everybody thinking Molly had got some dreamboat boyfriend.

“He’s a moron!” I snapped. “Just like my stupid sister.”