Fiona Cummings - Emergency Sleepover

“Erm, he said ten past four. Will that be in fifteen minutes?” she asked, her eyes glazing over as she looked at her watch. Lyndz is very ditzy when it comes to telling the time!

“Right. I’ll take this corridor here; you take that one down there, Lyndz; and Kenny – you retrace our steps back to the Children’s Ward, OK?” Frankie ordered.

“Yes sir!” Lyndz and I both saluted and we all set off in different directions.

I went all the way back up to the Children’s Ward but there was still no sign of Fliss. I even checked out three other wards and asked the nurses if they’d seen her, but nobody had. I just hoped that she’d be with Frankie and Lyndz when I got to the Main Entrance again. But she wasn’t. And what’s more, Lyndz wasn’t there either!

“I should have known not to let Lyndz go anywhere by herself when she’s so hopeless at telling the time!” grumbled Frankie.

“What are we going to tell her father?” I wondered.

“It’s too late to think of anything,” moaned Frankie. “Here he is now!”

Lyndz’s dad’s big van pulled up in front of us.

“Hop in, girls!” he called out as he stopped in front of us. “Look sharp – I’m blocking the way of this ambulance!”

Frankie and I piled in, wondering how we were going to tell him about the other two. When just then, we saw them steaming out of the door of the Accident and Emergency department.

“Wouldn’t you look at those two eejits!” exclaimed Mr Collins when he saw them. “I can’t stop there for them with this ambulance behind me. I’ll have to go round again!”

You ought to have seen their faces when they saw us driving past. It was class!

When we did manage to pick them up, Fliss was as white as a sheet and whimpering. All we could get out of her was that she’d seen some terrible things and she never wanted to set foot in a hospital again. She swore that she’d seen someone being operated on, but I told her that was rubbish. Still, I was dead jealous that she’d seen more exciting things than me. And when we asked Lyndz how she’d found her, she said she’d just stumbled upon her by accident.

“Quite fitting that it was in the Accident and Emergency department then, wasn’t it?” chortled her dad.

Fliss was still going on about getting lost in hospital when we went to visit Rosie at home the following week. Rosie hobbled to the door on crutches.

“Hey, cool!” I marvelled.

“I don’t know about cool,” said Rosie. “It takes me about half an hour just to get upstairs!”

“I bet you’re glad to be home, though,” said Fliss.

“You bet I am!” she agreed. “I just feel so bad for all the kids who spend a lot of time in hospital. It is pretty grim in there.”

“Why don’t we raise money for the appeal?” I suggested. It had kind of been playing on my mind ever since we visited Rosie in hospital.

“How?” asked Lyndz.

“I dunno,” I admitted, shrugging my shoulders.

We’re not always very successful with our attempts at fundraising, as you probably know. Then I had a brilliant idea.

“We could sit in baths of baked beans and get people to give us money for it!” I yelled, leaping out of my chair.

“Oh, yuck !” the others chorused.

“No way!” said Fliss emphatically.

“OK, I could sit in a bath of baked beans then,” I volunteered. “I’d give loads of money if I saw someone doing that!”

“No, Kenny!” said Frankie firmly. “And sit down, won’t you? You’re going to damage Rosie’s foot the way you’re jumping around.”

I sat down.

“I know,” said Fliss. “How about a sponsored walk or something?”

“Bo-ring!” the rest of us sang.

“I was only trying to help!” Fliss sniffed. “You come up with some suggestions then!”

“I have done,” I reminded her. “I can sit in a bath of baked beans!”

“NO, Kenny!” the others shouted.

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