Now, the big news about Fliss is that she’s just become a big sister all over again – this time to two tiny baby twins!! Her mum had them a couple of weeks ago and they’re just soooo cute. One boy and one girl, called Joseph (Joe for short) and Hannah, with identical snub noses and bald heads. Oh yeah, and not forgetting the identical screams!
I think Fliss was secretly hoping for two girls as she’s not mad keen on little brothers (she’s already got one – Callum). But she’s dead chuffed with the twins, and loves helping her mum dress them up in all their cute little outfits. All together now… AHHH!
So as well as being a peacock, our Fliss has also become something of a mother hen these days. Although she does get cross when they cry all the way through Neighbours so she can’t hear what anyone’s saying.
And last but not least there’s Rosie. Now, if Rosie were an animal or bird, I think she’d be a crab. First of all, because that’s her birth sign, Cancerian, but also because she can be quite crabby at times. Most of the time she’s great fun and really makes me laugh, but, just like a crab, she’s got this very sensitive side under her hard shell. And boy, can she get in a mood at times!
Mind you, she has her reasons, I suppose. I won’t make a big deal out of it, because she hates that, but Rosie’s family are pretty hard up most of the time. Her dad left them a year or so ago and her mum really struggles with money. Tiffany, Rosie’s big sister, has got a Saturday job so she’s helping out a bit now, but there’s still not really enough cash to go round.
Also, even though Rosie would never say so, I think she feels a bit left out at home sometimes. Her brother, Adam, has cerebral palsy and is in a wheelchair, and so their mum gives him a lot more attention than she does to Rosie. It would probably be different if her dad was still around, but when there’s just one parent and three kids to look after, someone’s bound to miss out on the attention somewhere, don’t you think?
And last but not least there’s me – Lyndsey Marianne Collins, although everyone just calls me Lyndz. Much easier, don’t you think? I’ve got two big brothers and two little brothers and NO sisters – aaargh! Yes, it’s wall-to-wall boys in our house, apart from me and Mum. You might think that’s a nightmare if you hate boys, but it’s actually OK. My favourite is my little baby brother Sam. Everyone calls him Spike because he has this great big tuft of hair sticking up at the front. He’s soooo sweet and cuddly!
Now, if you know anything about me, you’ll know that I absolutely love animals with a mad, mad passion. Sometimes I think I get on better with animals than people! I go horse riding every weekend, which is just my favourite thing in the world. My brother Stuart works part-time at a farm down the road from us, and I sometimes help muck out the horses there. Horses are just gorgeous, don’t you think? They’re so beautiful and strong and clever.
My favourite horse at the riding school is called Alfie. He’s a gorgeous bay gelding with a white star in the middle of his forehead. I always take him some sugar lumps for a treat because they’re his absolute favourite. Whenever he sees me, he nuzzles at my pockets with a hopeful whinny!
As well as Buster the dog, we’ve got three cats at home – Toffee, Truffle and Fudge. Truffle is my top cat because she’s lovely and snuggly and sometimes sleeps in my bed with me. The three of them pick on Buster though, if they catch him eating their cat food. They all gang up on him and chase him round the garden together. It’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen!
So what animal am I like, then? Well, the others gave me the nickname of Squirrel for a while, as Frankie reckoned I always had some sweets squirrelled away in my desk or in my bag. But I think that makes me sound more like a PIG!
If I could choose what animal I was, I’d be a horse, as I think they’re just the best animals in the world. In fact, I think I’d choose to be Alfie, as he’s so completely beautiful. Anyway, as I’m the one telling you all this, I think it’s only fair that I should be allowed to pick what I’d be.
There you are then, that’s us five. The Sleepover Club, yay! It’s great being in a club with your four best mates. We try and have a sleepover every Friday night unless someone’s on holiday or poorly, and we always do loads of cool stuff together at the weekends and in the school holidays. Best of all, someone’s always coming up with an awesome idea of what the club can do next.
And that was where I’d got up to, wasn’t it? Kenny’s awesome idea. Let me start another chapter and I’ll tell you more about it!
If you can remember that far back, before I so rudely interrupted the story, Kenny had just suggested that we all went in for this sponsored swim at Cuddington Baths.
“I’m going to go for my personal best – one hundred lengths!” she said, eyes gleaming with excitement. Kenny’s a brilliant swimmer, of course. She’s got her gold lifesavers’ medal already, which is pretty spectacular for someone her age, apparently.
“A hundred lengths?” echoed Fliss, looking a bit faint at the thought. “We don’t all have to swim that far, do we?”
“No, of course not, silly,” Kenny said. “You just do as much as you can, and people sponsor you per length. Or, if you don’t think you’re going to manage many lengths, you can get them to give you a lump sum, like two pounds or something, just for taking part.”
“I could probably only do about ten lengths – if that!” I said doubtfully. “I mean, I like the idea, but I can still only do doggy paddle. I haven’t really got the hang of any other strokes yet.”
“Ten lengths would be excellent!” Kenny said warmly. “We can all practise together at weekends. And I could teach you breaststroke if you want – it’s dead easy. If you can do doggy paddle, you can easily do that.”
“All right, thanks!” I said.
“I reckon I can do fifteen lengths – or maybe even twenty,” Fliss said thoughtfully. She had a load of private swimming lessons last summer and is quite good now – even if she does hate getting her hair wet!
“I’m going to go for half a mile – thirty-two lengths,” Frankie said excitedly. She goes swimming quite a lot with her dad, and often with Kenny, too, so she’s pretty fit. “Half a mile – it sounds a long way, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, you can do that, no problem,” Kenny said confidently. “How about you, Rosie?”
“Ooh yes, of course, because you’re a water sign, aren’t you, Rosie?” Fliss said at once. We called her ‘mystic Flisstic’ for a while last summer, because she got really into horoscopes and fortune-telling. “You should be the best swimmer of the lot, then!”
Rosie went a bit pink. “I don’t think so!” she said. She was trying to laugh but she looked a bit awkward about it. “Anyway, I don’t think I’ll be able to do the swimathon with you guys. Sorry, but…”
“But what?” Frankie said. “One for all, and all for one, remember, Rosie?”
Rosie bit her lip. She was looking dead shifty, which is unusual when she’s normally such a down-to-earth person. “Well, the fact that my cozzie is so ancient and small that it’s practically unwearable for starters,” she said, with this embarrassed sort of laugh. “I don’t think Cuddington is ready to see my bare bum hanging out!”
“Oh, I’ve got loads of swimming costumes,” Fliss said at once. “You can borrow one of mine! Not my new one, obviously, as I’ll be wearing that, but I’ll dig out another one for you, if you like!”
“Nice one, Fliss!” I said. Fliss isn’t often very generous with her things. She’d never lend me or Kenny