Summer Secrets. Angie Bates

yippee! I’m hiccup free!” I sang idiotically.

      And I flew back upstairs to finish my book. Everything Frankie said was true, but I didn’t give care. I had totally fallen in love with those old stories. Actually, what I really wanted was to climb inside that world and stay there for ever.

      I was still reading when Mum came in to give me my last dose of medicine. She gave me a goodnight kiss, then firmly switched off my light.

      But I still couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned for ages, trying to find a cool patch of pillow. I wasn’t depressed any more. The books had completely cured me. But I was unusually restless. Which isn’t exactly surprising. My head was filled with faithful dogs and foreign-sounding villains and flashing lights far out at sea!

      Maybe I was still feverish, or maybe Teresa’s dad’s books had cast a strange spell on me. But suddenly I found myself talking in the dark.

      “I wish all the Sleepover gang could have exciting adventures like the kids in those stories,” I said. “Though in trendier clothes, obviously,” I added hastily.

      You know what they say. Be careful what you wish for. It might happen. And it did. It happened so fast that I was still tossing and turning when Mum got her mysterious late-night phone call from a long-lost relative.

      

      OK, I’ll come clean. Uncle Phil isn’t exactly a long-lost rellie. But he’s terrible at staying in touch! I think maybe he has phone phobia. He and Auntie Roz been living in Australia and we hadn’t heard from him for years.

      But it turned out that recently, Auntie Roz had inherited some huge old house in Suffolk by the sea.

      Mum told us about it next morning. “They’re going to run the house as a B&B,” she explained. “They’ve been working seven days a week since they got here, getting everything straight, and they’ve invited us for the weekend.”

      But Dad is a real home bird at heart, so he came up with all these excuses. He had exam papers to mark, plus his DIY was at a crucial stage, etcetera etcetera. “You go,” he offered suddenly. “And I’ll look after the boys. How about that?”

      Mum looked seriously tempted. Not only was she keen to see her big brother, I got the sneaky feeling she was ready for a break.

      When we were alone (except for baby Spike, who doesn’t count), Mum said hopefully, “Fancy going to Suffolk this weekend, Lyndz? Bring a friend if you like. The sea air would do you good.”

      My heart totally skipped a beat. That’s what grown-ups always say at the beginning of those stories! That’s how you know the adventure is starting! Was it possible my late-night wish could be coming true?

      Don’t be daft, Lyndz, I told myself. I shook my head wistfully. “Sorry, Mum. I can’t just take one of my mates.”

      She sighed. “You’re right. Oh, well.”

      I thought that was the end of it. But like Stu says, Mum’s like our Jack Russell, Buster. Once he gets his teeth into something, he totally won’t let go. And Mum was determined to see Uncle Phil.

      That evening, she disappeared into her bedroom with the phone. She came out all smiles. “They said yes!” she announced. “Isn’t that great?”

      I stared at her. “Huh?”

      “Your friends’ parents. They said yes,” she said impatiently.

      “Erm, did I miss something?” I said.

      “They agreed to me taking you all down to Suffolk, of course,” she said, as if I was being particularly slow.

      I was stunned. “You want to take the entire Sleepover Club away for the weekend? Does Uncle Phil know?”

      “He can’t wait. He says he and Roz really miss having kids around, now theirs have left home.”

      “What about school?” I was shaky with excitement. Suddenly my life seemed to be turning into a story. There had to be a hitch somewhere.

      “No problem,” Mum said absent-mindedly. “Friday’s a training day. I can’t believe you’ve forgotten that! We’ll have to make an early start. It’s a long drive to Suffolk. Where did I put that road map?”

      My head was spinning. My mates and I were going to stay with my long-lost uncle in a rambling old house by the sea, and have a coo-ell adventure like the ones in Teresa’s dad’s books. And all thanks to my brilliant mum!

      But before things could get mushy, the phone rang.

      Fliss sounds just like a Munchkin when she gets excited. “Is your mum really taking us to the seaside?” she squeaked. “That is so-o cool! I’ve got the cutest bikini! It’s pink with little –”