Narinder Dhami - Sleepover Girls Go Karting

“Hi, girls,” he said, going over to the fridge. “I don’t suppose any of you are interested in karting?”

I didn’t think I’d heard him right, so I just stared at him. So did all the others.

“ What did you say, Andy?” Fliss asked.

“I said, are any of you interested in karting?” Andy took a can of beer out of the fridge, and popped it open.

“What, in a horse and cart?” Rosie asked, looking confused.

“No, you twit!” Frankie said. “He means go-karting.”

Andy nodded. “Yeah, go-karting.” He looked round at us. “So, are you interested?”

“You bet,” I said eagerly. “I can just see myself burning rubber like Michael Shoemaker or whatever his name is!”

“Schumacher,” Frankie corrected me. “Sounds like a laugh!”

“I’ve never done it before, but I’ll give it a go,” Lyndz said.

“Me too,” Rosie agreed.

“Don’t you have to wear a safety helmet?” Fliss asked anxiously. “It might ruin my hair!”

The rest of us groaned.

“Come on, Fliss, get a life,” I ordered. “Stop being so girly!”

“Oh, all right,” Fliss retorted. “Anyway, isn’t karting expensive?”

“Yeah, it is,” Andy agreed, “if you haven’t got free passes!” And he pulled five green tickets out of his pocket and held them up. “Here we are – five free three-day passes to the brand-new Silver Streak karting centre, starting tomorrow.”

Our eyes nearly popped out of our heads.

“Three days of karting – brilliant!” Frankie gasped.

“Do you think we’ll have races?” Lyndz asked.

“And do you think we’ll need any special clothes?” Rosie chimed in.

“I hope my kart’s pink.” That was Fliss, of course!

“Cool!” I exclaimed, grabbing one of the passes and studying it. “Where did you get them from, Andy?”

Andy grinned. “I’m doing some plastering for a Mr Stevens at the moment,” he explained. “He’s got a big house in the country, and pots of money. He owns the karting centre, and he offered me the passes. The centre’s only been open a few days, and I think he’s a bit worried no-one’s going to turn up!”

Just then Mrs Proudlove bustled into the kitchen with a baby in each arm.

“Andy, Joe and Hannah both need changing,” she said, looking harassed. “Can you give me a hand?’

“I think this is where the Sleepover Club disappears!” I muttered to Frankie, and we all legged it into the living room.

“And it’s Kenny in the blue kart who takes the lead,” I announced, as I swerved ahead of Rosie, and elbowed her out of the doorway. “And it’s Kenny who’s first into the living room, and first into the comfy chair!” I sat down in the armchair, and grinned at the others. “I’m gonna blow you all off the track tomorrow!”

“Knowing you, you’ll probably crash into something!” Fliss sniffed.

“Or turn your kart over,” Frankie added.

“Hey, I wonder if you can do stunts in those karts?” I said eagerly. “Maybe I’ll be able to do a wheelie or something.”

“If you do, you’ll be wheelie lucky!” Frankie joked, and the rest of us bombarded her with cushions.

“I’ll get my mum to take us tomorrow,” I offered. “She’s not doing anything. Well, even if she is, I’ll get round her somehow.”

“I hope they show us how to drive the karts,” Fliss said anxiously. “I’ve never been in one before.”

“Oh, it’ll be cool!” I assured her. “It’ll be just like driving a dodgem car at the fair.”

“Oh yeah?” said Lyndz. “Remember last time we were on the dodgem cars?”

“That was an accident,” I said with dignity. “I didn’t mean to hit that other car so hard that the little boy lost his toffee apple.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think that woman who got it in the face was very pleased,” Frankie pointed out.

“You’re just jealous of me because I’m the best driver!” I boasted. “You wait and see!”

“And Mrs McKenzie’s right at the back of the queue!” I was pretending I was talking into an imaginary microphone, and the others, who were squashed into the back of the car, were laughing their heads off. “If she doesn’t put her foot down and spin some wheels, we won’t even make it to the karting centre before it closes!”

“And if Laura McKenzie doesn’t shut up,” my mum replied calmly, as she stopped at some traffic lights, “she won’t even make it to the karting centre, full stop.”

“Oh, come on, Mum,” I pleaded. “Can’t you go a bit faster? You’ve got no chance of winning a Grand Prix!”

“I can see you’re going to be a great driver, Kenny,” my mum said sarcastically as we drove out of Cuddington. “If you come home in one piece, I’ll be surprised!”

“Don’t worry, Mrs McKenzie,” Rosie chimed in. “We can carry Kenny back to the car if we have to!”

“Listen, you lot, it takes skill to drive a kart,” I snorted. “And I’ve got plenty of it!”

Secretly, I didn’t have a clue what driving a kart involved – but I wasn’t going to tell the others that. After all, how hard could it be?

“I’m not looking forward to wearing a helmet,” Fliss moaned. “I bet it won’t go with my new jumper!”

“Oh, give it up, Flissy,” I retorted. “It won’t matter anyway – we have to wear race suits over our clothes.”

“What are those?” Lyndz asked.

“These kind of all-in-one overall things,” I said airily. My dad had bought a computer last month, and I’d done a bit of research into karting on the Net the night before.

“Well, I hope mine’s pink!” Fliss said, and everyone groaned.

“I think we have to wear gloves too,” Frankie added, winking at me. “You’re not the only one who went on the Net last night, Kenny!”

The karting centre was about fifteen miles from Cuddington. None of us quite knew what to expect, so when we arrived at the Silver Streak about twenty minutes later, we could hardly believe our eyes.

“Is that it?” Fliss gasped.

“It’s huge !” Rosie murmured, her eyes almost popping out of her head.

It was massive . The building was shaped a bit like a big dome, and there was a large carpark outside, which already had quite a few cars parked in it.

“Look!” Lyndz pointed at the big sign, as we drove into the carpark. “It says there’s an adults’ track, and a separate track for the under-elevens.”

“Come on, Mum!” I yelled, bouncing up and down in my seat. I was getting well excited by now. “Put your foot down, and grab that empty parking space before that Mercedes gets it!”

“Oh, really, Kenny!” my mum said sternly. She reversed neatly into the empty space, just ahead of the Mercedes, and I cheered loudly. “I dread to think what you’re going to be like what you get on to that karting track.”

“Yeah, Kenny, haven’t you heard of road rage?” Fliss said.

“Or in this case, track rage!” Frankie grinned.

“Yeah, you lot had better stay out of my way,” I said, climbing out of the car. “If we have a race, I’m out to win!”

Frankie turned to Fliss.

“I bet you 50p Kenny crashes her kart,” she said confidently, holding out her hand. “Shake on it?”

“No, thanks,” Fliss retorted. “I can’t afford to lose 50p!”

“What a cheek!” I grumbled, as we went over to the entrance. “I’m going to be the fastest out of you lot.”