Sleepover Girls Go Treasure Hunting. Sue Mongredien

sick again. “Please just… shut up!”

      “Earwig-o, earwig-o, earwig-o,” Kenny sang. “Geddit? ‘Ere we go, ‘ere we go, ‘ere we go… ’”

      “You’re lucky I’m too scared to touch that worm,” Fliss said, sounding fierce. “Else I might just have dropped it down your neck for that, Kenny McKenzie. I’m going to have nightmares about earwigs crawling into my brain now, thank you very much.”

      “How about this one?” Frankie said, with a mischievous glint in her eye. “There’s a worm at the bottom of the garden and his name is Wiggly-Woo… ”

      The rest of us immediately joined in the song.

      “There’s a worm at the bottom of the garden

      And all that he can do

      Is wiggle all night and wiggle all day… ”

      “Stop it!” wailed Fliss.

      “Come on, Fliss,” my dad said, seeing her bottom lip sticking out about ten centimetres. “Ignore them. Think about all those clothes you’re going to buy, eh?”

      We were all in a silly mood by then. “I’ve just dug up a pop group,” Rosie giggled. “Look – it’s the beetles!”

      Even Fliss laughed at that. “Hey, I’ve got one – what’s a gardener’s favourite Christmas carol?” she said, joining in. “Soil-ent night!”

      Soon we were all coming out with them.

      “What smells most in the garden?” Dad asked. “Your nose!”

      “Where do insects live?” Frankie said. “Crawley!”

      We were having such a laugh, I couldn’t believe it was lunch time already when I heard Mum calling us. Treasure hunting was turning out to be the best fun we’d had in aaaaages!

      

      After a whopping great lunch of bangers and mash – with Fliss having THIRDS of mash – digging up the garden suddenly didn’t seem like so much fun any more.

      “I’ve got blisters from that spade,” I said, holding my hands out for the others to see.

      “My hands are a bit sore as well,” Fliss said at once. “Has anybody got any hand cream on them?”

      “And we haven’t found ANYTHING except worms and beetles and centipedes,” Rosie said, sounding disappointed.

      “Hey, what happened to the rich and famous Treasure Team?” Dad said, trying to jolly us along a bit. “Not giving up already, are you? We’ve hardly started!”

      “Mr C, you’re a much better digger than we are,” crafty Kenny started. “I don’t suppose you’d fancy… ”

      “What, finishing off the digging all by myself?” Dad said, raising his eyebrows. “I didn’t think the Sleepover Club were the sort to be so lazy as to ask a poor, tired old man who’s been working hard all week to give up his Saturday afternoon to… ”

      “All right, all right, Dad!” I interrupted hurriedly. “No need to give us the sob story.”

      Mum cleared our plates away and we sat around the table looking at each other. “So does ANYONE fancy digging some more?” I asked in the end. Even though I wanted to find buried treasure as badly as everyone else, my blisters really were throbbing on my hand – and suddenly, I could think of lots of other things I’d rather be doing than digging up the flowerbed all afternoon.

      “I’ve got to meet my mum – we’re going to the library,” Rosie said. “Otherwise I’d stay and help, of course… ”

      “And my mum’s having some people round this afternoon and I said I’d help look after baby Izzy while she gets things ready,” Frankie added. “So I’m going to have to shoot off soon, too.”

      “I promised I’d clean out Merlin’s cage,” Kenny said. “He’s getting a bit whiffy and Mum’s been threatening to let next door’s dog have him if I don’t de-pong him soon.”

      “She wouldn’t!” I cried in horror. Merlin is Kenny’s pet rat that she’s taught to do all sorts of tricks. The thought of letting him be eaten by the dog next door was just…

      “No, she wouldn’t,” Kenny agreed. “She was just trying to make me feel bad – and it worked, as usual.”

      “But what about our treasure?” Fliss put in. “Mr Collins is right. We can’t give up already. I want my shopping trip to London soooo badly! I’ve been thinking about all the things I want to buy.”

      I was just about to invite her to carry on digging, but she must have second-guessed me, because before I could open my mouth…

      “Obviously, I’d stay and help you dig up the garden, Lyndz and Mr Collins, but I… er… I’ve got to get back, too. Mum’s got… er… something planned. Unfortunately,” she said quickly. She tossed her head and looked around the table, daring anyone to question her.

      “So we all want the treasure but nobody wants to dig any more, that’s about the size of it,” I summarised. “Well, what do we do next, then?”

      “I could have a look in the library for ideas,” Rosie offered. “See if I can find anything about Roman settlements around here in the local history section. We might get some clues from that.”

      “Good idea,” Kenny said. “See if you can find a map that says where all the Roman ruins are around the country and which are the nearest to us.”