Starring the Sleepover Club
by Narinder Dhami
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Goodbye
Have you been invited to all these Sleepovers?
Please come to a sleepover at Felicity’s
Sleepover Kit List
Copyright
About the Publisher
Please come to a sleepover at Felicity’s
11 Clumber Close Parklands Cuddington Leicester
It’s on Friday 11 April. Please come at 6.30 pm and sleepover till Saturday morning.
Don’t forget, we’ll be making our Sleepover Club video – come prepared to be a star!
Oh, hi! It’s you again. Look, you can walk with me if you want to. I’m going to the video shop to borrow a film. But you’ve got to promise me one thing. You’ve got to promise that you won’t ask me what happened at our sleepover last night. I can’t tell you because it’s a Big Secret. The Biggest. So don’t ask me, OK?
My mum and dad said I could choose a film for the three of us to watch tonight. Usually one of them comes to the video shop with me and makes a big song and dance about which films are suitable, and which films aren’t. You know what parents are like. But today they said I could come on my own. I think it’s because they’re pretty relieved that nothing happened at the sleepover last night (or so they think). The last time we slept over at Fliss’s, we ended up wrecking her mum’s kitchen, as well as giving her gruesome neighbours a complete fit. This time we did something just as bad. We – oh, sorry! I forgot. I can’t tell you.
Come on, here’s the video shop. No, don’t bother going into the adult section. I’m not even allowed to look at the covers of the films over there. Anyway, Nathan Wignall’s standing there, trying to pretend he’s old enough to borrow a grown-up film. I’ve told you about Nathan Wignall before, haven’t I? He lives next door to me, and he’s a complete pain. I could tell you loads of embarrassing stuff about Nathan Wignall, but I haven’t got time right now.
We sometimes watch a video when we have a sleepover, but not every time. Like last night at Fliss’s, we – whoops, there I go again! Me and my big mouth.
No, I can’t tell you. Don’t ask me to. My lips are sealed.
Look, don’t get mad. Of course I trust you. As my grandma always says, if you can’t trust your friends, who can you trust? It’s just that if our parents find out what really went on at Fliss’s house last night, we’ll be up to our eyes in everlasting doom for the next five years. So, if I tell you what happened at the sleepover last night, do you swear never to breathe a WORD about it to ANYONE? Cross your heart and hope to die? Do you promise faithfully you won’t tell anyone, even if they offer you their last Rolo?
OK, you’ve twisted my arm. I give in. Let’s go behind the children’s videos so that no one else can hear us, and I’ll tell you all about it.
The sleepover at Fliss’s was going to be an ordinary sleepover right up until the day before. Well, what I mean is, no sleepover is ever really ordinary, but we weren’t expecting anything special to happen. Of course, we were wrong.
As my grandma always says, the best place to start is at the beginning. That was at school on Thursday morning. We were in the playground, and all of the Sleepover Club were there, except Fliss. Me (I’m Frankie, remember?), Kenny, Rosie and Lyndz. We were discussing our new teacher, Miss Jenkins. Our real teacher, Mrs Weaver, was ill and she hadn’t been at school all week. We missed her a bit. But not a lot. Compared to Mrs Weaver, Miss Jenkins was a pushover.
“OK, today I’m going for it,” Kenny said. “I bet I can make six trips to the pencil sharpener before Miss Jenkins tells me off.”
“What’s the record so far?” I asked.
“I managed five times yesterday,” said Rosie.
Kenny shrugged. “You only got the fifth one because Danny McCloud had stuffed two rubbers up his nose. You sneaked over to the sharpener while Miss Jenkins was telling him off.”
“Then they got stuck up there,” said Lyndz. “Poor old Miss Jenkins had a terrible time trying to pull them out.”
“I’m glad I’m not a teacher,” I said with feeling. “I wouldn’t put my fingers up Danny McCloud’s nose for a billion pounds.”
“Well, she couldn’t just let Danny suffocate, could she?” said Lyndz.
There was a thoughtful silence.
“I wouldn’t have a problem with that,” Kenny said with a perfectly straight face, and Rosie and I began to giggle.
“I think you’re horrible,” said Lyndz. “Poor Miss Jenkins. I feel—”
“Really sorry for her!” we all chimed in. Lyndz has got a heart of pure marshmallow.
“Oh, shut up!” Lyndz grinned, and stuck her tongue out at us. She’s used to us winding her up. “By the way, where’s Fliss?”
“Yeah, where is Fliss?” said Kenny. “She’s going to be late if she doesn’t get here soon.”
We all looked at each other. Fliss is never late for school. She’s the sort of person who’s never late for anything, not even the dentist.
“Look, there she is.” Rosie pointed across the playground. “What’s the matter with her?”
Fliss was racing madly across the playground towards us, waving her arms in the air. Her face was bright red, and she was puffing and panting like she’d just run the London Marathon. She was so out of breath that, when she skidded to a halt in front of us, she couldn’t speak.
“What is it, Fliss?” I asked, feeling a bit alarmed.
Fliss took a huge breath.
“My mum and Andy have bought a camcorder, and my mum says we can video the sleepover tomorrow night!” she squealed.
“Really?” Rosie gasped, her eyes as round