Fiona Cummings - Happy Birthday, Sleepover Club

by Fiona Cummings

Cover

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

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

BOO! It’s me. Kenny. You were expecting Frankie, right? Well, she couldn’t come. She’s ill. Not really, really ill, unfortunately. I could do with a proper patient to practise on. You can’t train to be a doctor by operating on your sister’s stuffed toys. But all Frankie Baby has is a bit of a temperature and a sore throat. Nothing to worry about. And not surprising either. You know how she can go on sometimes.

Phew! I’ll just sit down for a minute and get my breath back. I was practising a few cartwheels before I got to you. Did you see me? The thing with cartwheels is that all the blood rushes to your head, then you go all kind of dizzy. It’s quite nice actually. I was doing cartwheels here in this park when we thought of having the Sleepover Club birthday party.

It was at the beginning of the summer holidays. I was with the rest of the Sleepover Club and I was bored. I was bored because there was no football. I live for Leicester City Football Club, and I hate it in summer when the season has finished. But it wasn’t just me, we were all feeling a bit bored. It’s really weird because all we’d talked about for the last few weeks at school was what a great time we were going to have during the school holidays. We’d be sitting in the classroom struggling over some stupid maths problem, and one of us would say,

“Won’t it be great when we can do what we want, all day, every day!” And then we’d all sort of daydream about how we were going to spend our summer holidays.

I’m the original ‘Action Girl’, I’m always on the move, so I imagined us playing rounders and doing lots of other outdoorsy things. I think Fliss fancied having lots of picnics in floaty dresses. P-lease! Lyndz and Rosie didn’t seem to care what we did as long as the Sleepover Club did it together. Lyndz likes to get away from her brothers. (Fancy having four brothers! Still, I think I’d rather swap with her than have my stupid sister, Molly-the-Monster.) And Rosie just seems to enjoy hanging out with the rest of us.

It’s hard to tell what Frankie wanted to do with her holidays. But whatever it was, she’d want to get the rest of us organised to do it too! She doesn’t have any brothers and sisters, but you know that already don’t you? We all know that because she never stops reminding us about it. She likes doing stuff with the Sleepover Club because she likes having other people to boss around! No, I’m only joking. Frankie’s my best friend.

So, anyway, we had all these great plans for our summer holidays and three days into them we were bored. I mean seriously bored. Even a maths lesson followed by a spelling test would have been a treat. The thing is, everything seems to stop for summer. Everybody goes away and everywhere is really quiet.

“Do you think we’re the only people in Cuddington who haven’t gone away on holiday?” asked Frankie as we were lazing about in the park.

“Yet.” said Fliss. “I’m going to…”

“Tenerife. In three weeks.” The rest of us said together.

Fliss had told us about her holiday a zillion times already, and we weren’t likely to forget.

“I was only saying!” grumbled Fliss and stomped off to the pond to look at the ducks.

“Get her!” laughed Lyndz.

“I wish I was going to Tenerife,” moaned Rosie. “I wish I was going anywhere. We never go on holiday now.”

Frankie, Lyndz and I pretended to play violins. We do that when Rosie is in one of her ‘Poor-Little-Me’ moods.

“We don’t go on holiday much,” said Lyndz. “There are too many of us. But I don’t mind. There’s always lots to do at home.”

“But we used to go away a lot. Before dad left,” mumbled Rosie. She looked as though she was going to cry. I’m not very good with people who cry. I don’t know what to do with them. Lyndz is pretty good, and so is Frankie. I just don’t cry very much myself. When I saw Rosie’s lip going all wobbly, I thought it was a good time to see what Fliss was up to. She was probably still sulking, but we’re used to that by now.

I wanted to see how many cartwheels I could do before I got to the pond where Fliss was standing. I thought it would be about twenty. One, two, three… twelve, thirteen, fourteen…

“Hey, watch it!” I cartwheeled right into Fliss and we both nearly ended up swimming with the ducks!

“Sorry Fliss,” I spluttered. My head was in a major spin after being upside down so many times.

“You know Kenny,” sighed Fliss, examining her legs for bruises. “You really are very clumsy.”

She sounded like Mrs Weaver, our teacher. I wished I’d stayed with the others. Rosie crying would have been better than Fliss moaning.

“And I was trying to work something out before you nearly drowned me!” snapped Fliss.

She started muttering something and counting on her fingers. Fliss was certainly one strange dude!

Suddenly, she leapt into the air.

“I thought so. We’ve had nine! We’ve had nine!” she shouted.

Yep! That confirmed my original diagnosis – our Fliss had finally flipped!

“Nine what?” I asked. “Nine fights? Nine doughnuts? What?”

Frankie, Lyndz and Rosie had joined us. They had obviously seen the commotion Fliss was causing. What an embarrassment!

“What’s she on about?” asked Lyndz. I shrugged my shoulders.

“We’ve had nine sleepovers!” Fliss shrieked. “That means that the next one will be our tenth!”

“Hey Fliss, go to the top of the class and give the teacher a banana!” I said.

“I always knew that you’d learn to count one day!”

“Hang on a minute,” said Frankie. “We’ve had loads of sleepovers. I’m sure we’ve had more than ten.”

“I mean we’ve had ten since we formed the Sleepover Club with Rosie and everything,” explained Fliss very slowly, as though she was talking to a bunch of three-year olds.

“Oh right,” Frankie nodded.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” continued Fliss. “Ten’s an important number, isn’t it? We ought to have a special sleepover to celebrate.”

Yeah. One-nil! For once, Fliss was right. If we had a sleepover to plan, we couldn’t get bored. Especially when it was a special birthday sleepover.

We all felt pretty excited and you know how hyper we can get. We all started talking at once, and laughing and doing high fives as though we’d all just won Olympic medals or something. Somehow I don’t think we would have been so enthusiastic if we had known then what trouble this tenth sleepover was going to cause.