The Sleepover Club Down Under
Narinder Dhami
Join the Sleepover Club: Frankie, Kenny, Felicity, Rosie and Lyndsey, five girls who want to have fun – but who always end up in mischief!An Australian soap star is playing in Leicester’s pantomime and is rumoured to be living in Cuddington. The girls go in search – which can only mean disaster!
by Narinder Dhami
CONTENTS
Cover (#ue818473c-2338-53cd-bba4-0ac2c0aa0189)
Title Page (#ua761371f-b235-5317-b950-d4df26ebcfc9)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Theree
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Have you been Invited to all these Sleepovers?
Sleepover Kit List
Copyright
About the Publisher
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“Life is so hardWhen you don’t have that special someoneThat’s why I need youTo help me through…”
“Kenny, you’re singing all the wrong words!” Fliss moaned.
“And why are you singing so much higher than the rest of us?” Lyndz wanted to know.
“Yeah, Kenny, you sound like a cat with a sore throat!” I added, sticking my fingers in my ears.
“Flippin’ cheek!” Kenny grumbled. “I’ll have you lot know I’ve got a fantastic voice – my gran said I ought to be on the stage!”
“Yeah, sweeping it, maybe!” I joked, and ducked as Kenny flicked a choc chip cookie at me.
Hi there! So you found your way to Fliss’s house OK, did you? Excellent! We were wondering where you’d got to. Come into the kitchen, and say hello to the rest of the Sleepover Club. Well, there’s only me, Kenny, Fliss and Lyndz here at the moment because Rosie’s late. We’re just practising the song we want to sing in assembly at school next week – if we can shut Kenny up, that is! It’s the theme tune from one of our fave programmes, that Australian soap opera South Beach. The words are a bit dodgy, but the tune’s all right!
We’re sleeping over at Fliss’s tonight (we take it in turns to have a sleepover every week at one of our houses, that’s why we’re called the Sleepover Club – obviously). Anyway, you can see we were all pretty hyped up and being a bit loud and giggly. It was exciting stuff, what with Christmas coming up and our school panto (which you’ll probably know about already!), but there was another reason why we were getting all over-excited. I’ll give you a clue – roll those drums please, here it comes – BRAD MARTIN!
What do you mean, you don’t know what I’m talking about? Oh, please! Where have you been all your life? You have to know who Brad Martin is! You watch South Beach, don’t you? You don’t? Oh. Well, I’ll just have to explain everything then!
Anyway, like I said, there we all were round Fliss’s, sitting in the kitchen drinking Sunny Delight and waiting for Rosie, and talking about what we wanted for Christmas.
“I really want a lizard!” Kenny said, and we all fell about laughing. We’re used to Kenny being crazy, but sometimes she can still surprise us!
“What, a real one?” Fliss asked, wrinkling up her nose in disgust.
“No, a dead one!” Kenny retorted. “Of course I want a real one.”
“Gross!” Fliss shuddered.
“That’s what Molly the Monster says,” Kenny replied with an evil grin. Molly’s her sister, although Kenny wishes she wasn’t. They’re always trying to get one over on each other, and you know what Kenny’s like – she usually wins!
“You only want a lizard to annoy Molly,” Lyndz pointed out.
“So?” Kenny shrugged. “That’s a good reason!”
“It’s not very nice for the lizard!” I said. “And anyway, Kenny, your pets never survive!”
It’s true. Kenny’s got the killer touch where pets are concerned.
“My mum says I can have loads of new clothes,” Fliss said, “and I want some boots and some make-up as well.”
Kenny groaned. “You’re so girly, Felicity!”
Kenny thinks that’s the worst insult she can give anyone. If someone called her ‘girly’, she’d thump them, but Fliss actually looked quite pleased!
“So?” she said. “I am a girl!”
Just then Fliss’s mum waddled in from the living room. It wasn’t long before the babies were born, and Mrs Proudlove’s tummy was so big, I was surprised she could walk!
“More biscuits, girls?” she enquired. “Or would you like some doughnuts?”
“Both, please!” Kenny said.
“I bet you can’t wait for the twins to be born, Fliss,” Lyndz remarked.
“Yeah,” Kenny said wickedly. “Two lots of smelly nappies to change!”
Fliss looked sick. I reckoned she’d faint away dead on the spot if she had to change a dirty nappy! Mind you, she did change Rosie’s neighbour’s baby’s nappy once, but that was ages ago.
“Where’s Rosie got to?” I wondered. “If she doesn’t hurry up, she’s going to miss…”
“SOUTH BEACH!” the others yelled, and we all rushed into the living room to grab the best seat on the sofa.
I can’t believe you’ve never seen South Beach. It was one of our best programmes – we liked it just as much as Neighbours and Home and Away. Anyway, Kenny got the best seat by elbowing everyone else out of the way.
“Ow!” Fliss said crossly, hopping round the living room holding her foot. “Kenny, you trod on my toe, you idiot!”
“And you elbowed me in the ribs!” I grumbled, plonking myself down next to Kenny and elbowing her back.
“Ssh, it’s starting!” Lyndz said, calming everyone down as usual.
“Life is so hardWhen you don’t have that special someone That’s why I need you To help me through…”
We all started singing the theme tune (well, yelling it really) and Mrs Proudlove waddled as fast as she could into the kitchen and shut the door. What a cheek – I didn’t think our singing was that bad.
I suppose South Beach wasn’t really that different to Neighbours or Home and Away. It was set in a beach café, and it had loads of good-looking people in it who all had big problems with their families and friends, just like the other two programmes. But South Beach did have ONE thing that Neighbours and Home and Away didn’t – and that was Brad Martin, the hunkiest guy in the entire universe!
“Ooh, Brad Martin’s so gorgeous!” Fliss drooled as the credits started and fit-looking surfers ran along the beach with their boards. At the front was Brad Martin, who played Rick, a waiter at the beach café. He’s got long blond hair and blue eyes and Fliss loves him even more than Ryan Scott, who’s in our class at school. Even Kenny thinks he’s gorgeous, although she won’t admit it.
“He’s cute!” I agreed.
“He’s OK – for a guy!” Kenny snorted, pretending not to be interested.
“I wonder if he’ll be just as gorgeous in real life?” Lyndz said hopefully.
Remember I told you that there was something else we were really excited about, apart from our sleepover that night? Well, we were actually going to see Brad in the flesh! No, really! I nearly died when I read in the local newspaper a few months ago that he was coming to Leicester to appear in the panto Aladdin. Leicester’s the nearest big city to Cuddington, the village where we all live, so I pestered my mum and dad for ages to take us all to see him. They finally agreed, although I had to promise to do the vacuuming for a week. We were going to the panto near the end of the Christmas holidays before we went back to school, and we could hardly wait.
“So who do you think Rick’s going to choose?” Fliss asked as the programme started.
At the moment Rick was in love with two different girls, and we were dying to know which one he was going to go out with.
“Charlene,” said Kenny immediately.
“No, Melanie,” Fliss argued.
“Melanie’s too girly,” Kenny retorted. That was just why Fliss liked her!
“Well, Charlene’s too much of a tomboy,” Fliss pointed out. “And anyway, she’s still in love with Tony.”
“I thought Charlene didn’t like Tony any more after she found out he swindled Mr and Mrs Williams out of all that money,” I objected.
“That wasn’t Tony’s fault,” Lyndz reminded me, “Luke set him up.”
“I thought Luke fancied Melanie anyway,” Kenny put in.
“No, Luke fancies Noelene,” I interrupted her, “only he doesn’t know that Noelene’s secretly married to Andrew.”
“Ssh, we’re missing it!” Fliss wailed as Rick began to have a row with Melanie about Charlene.
The rest of the programme wasn’t that good (because those were the bits Brad Martin wasn’t in), but Luke asked Noelene out and Andrew hit him, which was quite exciting. Then at the end of the programme, Rick had a row with Charlene about Melanie, and he went out on his surfboard on his own. He fell off and hit his head and the programme finished with him lying unconscious on the beach.
“Oh no!” Fliss gasped, looking worried. “I hope he’s OK.”
“Yeah, bound to be,” Kenny said. “He looked OK when I saw him in the newspaper last week, opening that new supermarket in Leicester!”
Fliss gave her a shove. “I mean, I hope they don’t kill him off in the programme!”
“There’d be a riot if they did!” Lyndz said.
“I wish I could’ve gone to see Brad opening that supermarket,” I grumbled. “But my mum wouldn’t let me have the day off school. Typical!”
My mum and dad are both lawyers, which is a real pain. Have you ever tried winning an argument against two lawyers?
“Brad must be staying in Leicester while he’s doing the panto,” Lyndz said hopefully. “Maybe we’ll see him while we’re out shopping with our parents or something.”
That’s Lyndz all over – she always looks on the bright side!
“Some chance!” Kenny scoffed. “Leicester’s huge! Tell you what though…” she grinned at us. “Maybe we’ll be able to go backstage and get his autograph after we’ve been to the panto!”
We all got pretty excited then!
“Do you think we’ll be allowed?” Fliss gasped.
Kenny shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But I’ll think of a wicked plan to get us in, don’t worry!”
Fliss, Lyndz and I were worrying already. Kenny’s plans aren’t exactly foolproof – or even legal, half the time.
“Where on earth has Rosie got to?” Lyndz asked.
“Maybe I’d better give her a call,” Fliss suggested, but right then the doorbell rang.
“About time too!” Kenny moaned as Fliss went to answer it. “We can’t have a proper sleepover with one person missing!”
Next moment we heard Rosie apologising breathlessly in the hall.
“Sorry, Fliss! Mum’s car broke down, and we had to wait for the AA to come and you’ll never guess what happened—OW!”
There was a loud crash, and Lyndz, Kenny and me rushed out into the hall to see what was going on. Rosie was sprawled on the hall carpet, while Fliss was in stitches.
“She tripped over the rug!” Fliss spluttered helplessly.
“Felicity!” Mrs Proudlove hurried out of the kitchen. “Don’t just stand there laughing, help Rosie up!”
Fliss hauled Rosie to her feet, while the rest of us stood around trying not to snigger.
“You’ll never guess what happened—” Rosie began again.
“So tell us!” I said as we went into the living room. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting anything that exciting. Rosie gets wound up over nothing at all sometimes. “You look like you’re about to burst!”
“Yeah, you’re as red as a ripe tomato!” Kenny told her helpfully, but Rosie wasn’t listening. She looked round at us all, her eyes wide.
“I saw Brad Martini!” she announced. “Right here in Cuddington!”
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No-one said anything at first, not even Kenny. But I guessed that the others were thinking exactly the same thing as me – that Rosie had gone completely nuts!
Meanwhile Rosie was frowning at us.
“Didn’t you hear me?” she began. “I said—”
“Oh, we heard what you said all right,” Kenny interrupted her. “We just don’t believe it, that’s all!”
“Yeah, nice try, Rosie,” I added. “You really had us going there – for about two seconds!”
Rosie turned red. “I’m not winding you up,” she snapped. “I really did see Brad Martin!”
“So what did you do? Ask him where his surfboard was?” Fliss asked sarcastically.
“Oh, give up, Rosie!” Kenny snorted. “Nobody believes you!”
“You must’ve made a mistake,” Lyndz said kindly.
Rosie looked absolutely furious, and that was what made me stop and think. I mean, Rosie likes the odd wind-up, but she’d never tried to pull anything like this before.
“OK, Rosie, tell us exactly what happened,” I said, glaring at Kenny and the others to make sure they got the message. Kenny rolled her eyes as if to say You’re as barmy as she is! But she didn’t say anything out loud.
“Well, Mum’s car broke down in Riverside Avenue,” Rosie explained, “and she went to the phonebox to call the AA. I was sitting in the car, and I saw Brad go past—”
Kenny couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Oh, pull the other one – it’s got ten million bells on it!” she exclaimed.
“Are you sure it was Brad, Rosie?” I asked. “It could have been someone who looked like him.”
“No, it was him,” Rosie replied immediately, “I know it was!”
She sounded pretty convincing. I looked at Fliss and Lyndz. They were both looking doubtful, as if they didn’t know what to believe. Meanwhile, Kenny was still certain that it was a wind-up.
“OK, so what was he wearing?” she asked.
“Jeans, a black fleece and a black baseball cap,” Rosie snapped.
Kenny pounced straight away. “If he was wearing a baseball cap, how do you know it was Brad?” she pointed out triumphantly.
“I got a good look at his face as he walked towards the car,” Rosie retorted.
We all looked at each other. Rosie was obviously convinced that she had seen Brad Martin.
“Why didn’t you get out and run after him?” Kenny asked suspiciously.
“Because my mum was coming back by then, and she stopped me,” Rosie said sulkily.
“Oh!” Fliss squealed all of a sudden.
“What is it?” we all chorused.
“Well, what if—?” Fliss stopped. “No, he couldn’t be!”
“Couldn’t what?” we all repeated impatiently.
“Well…” Fliss hopped from one foot to the other. “I suppose he might be…”
“MIGHT BE WHAT?” the rest of us repeated. I was beginning to feel like Polly the Parrot!
“Well, we were saying before that Brad must be staying nearby if he’s in the panto,” Fliss finally managed to get the words out. “Maybe he’s staying in Cuddington!”
Rosie nearly fainted away on the spot. “He can’t be! Can he?”
“Yes! That must be it!” Lyndz agreed, looking excited.
“But if he is in Cuddington, where would he be staying?” I asked doubtfully.
Before anyone could reply, Fliss’s mum came in with a cup of tea and a magazine.
“Still here, girls?” she asked brightly. “I thought you were going upstairs to Fliss’s room.”
“We are.” I jumped to my feet, dragging Kenny with me. “Come on, you lot.”
We all legged it upstairs and into Fliss’s bedroom. Once we were inside, Fliss closed the door and we all piled on to the bed and started whispering to each other. We were getting really excited by this time, although Kenny still wasn’t totally convinced.
“Do you really think Brad’s in Cuddington?” Lyndz asked.
“I know he is!” Rosie replied.
“Maybe we should go and look for him,” I suggested.
“I’ll die if I see him!” Fliss added.
“Why are we whispering?” Kenny wanted to know.
“In case anyone else finds out!” I told her. “This is one big secret!”
Kenny frowned. “Hey, hang on a minute,” she said. “If Rosie’s seen Brad in Cuddington, how come no-one else has?”
“What do you mean?” Fliss asked.
“Well, other people must have seen him too,” Kenny pointed out, “and no-one at school’s mentioned it. It’d be all over the place in five minutes flat if they had!”
“The panto only started a week or two ago,” Fliss pointed out. “He might only just have moved in.”
“Yeah, we’ll get the latest when we go back to school on Monday,” I said. “Someone else might have seen him – we just haven’t heard about it yet.”
“Well, if Brad is here, where would he be staying?” Kenny wasn’t giving in that easily. “There aren’t any really posh hotels in Cuddington.”
That threw us a bit.
“He might be staying at Buckingham House,” Rosie suggested.
Kenny burst out laughing. “What, with Mrs Windsor? He’d have to be desperate!”
Buckingham House is a B&B in Cuddington, and it’s probably the poshest guest house in the village. But the lady who runs it, Mrs Windsor, is a right old snob – I reckon she called it Buckingham House because she thinks she’s the queen of Cuddington!
“I’ve got it!” Fliss suddenly bounced off the bed. “Why don’t we ring the theatre? They’ll be able to tell us where Brad’s staying!”
“Good idea.” Kenny jumped up too. “Give me the phone!”
Fliss has just got her own girly pink phone in her bedroom and she’s dead proud of it. Anyway, Kenny grabbed the receiver, and Fliss went to get the phone book, but she started moaning when she came back.
“It’s my phone, Kenny. I ought to make the call!”
Kenny raised her eyebrows at her. “Can you do a posh grown-up voice?”
“No,” Fliss muttered.
“OK, here goes.” Kenny tapped in the number of the theatre, and we all waited, holding our breath until we heard the phone being picked up at the other end. Kenny immediately pinched her nose with her fingers, and said, “Hello? Who is this please?” in this really posh voice.
“It’s the doorman at the theatre!” she hissed at us, covering the mouthpiece. Then she pinched her nose again and said grandly, “This is Brad Martin’s aunt speaking. I need to get in touch with him, so kindly tell me where he lives!”
Meanwhile the rest of us were rolling around on Fliss’s bed, stuffing our hands in our mouths to stop ourselves from laughing.
“I see,” Kenny said after a moment or two. “Well, thank you very much.” And she put the phone down.
“Did he give you the address?” I asked eagerly.
“Is Brad staying in Cuddington?” Rosie chimed in.
“Or is he in Leicester?” Lyndz asked.
“Don’t keep us in suspense, Kenny!” Fliss begged.
“The doorman said I was about the tenth person to ring today trying to find out where Brad was staying, and to stop pestering him!” Kenny said.
Our faces fell.
“So how can we find out?” Rosie asked.
“Well, we can’t do anything now,” I pointed out. “Anyway, aren’t we supposed to be having a sleepover?”
But it turned out that the sleepover was pretty much a wash-out after that, because all we did was talk about whether or not Brad could really be staying in Cuddington. We had a sort of half-hearted pillow fight and we had a midnight feast and we wrote in our diaries and we did all the kinds of things we normally do, but we weren’t really interested. There was only one thing we wanted to know. Where was Brad Martin? By this time, I think we were all convinced that Rosie had seen him – even Kenny!
It was only when we were in our sleeping bags on Fliss’s floor that I started to have second thoughts. We’d just sung our sleepover song, and everyone was getting a bit drowsy.
“Maybe I didn’t see Brad after all,” Rosie said suddenly in a low voice. “Maybe it was someone else…”
But I don’t think anyone heard her except me.
Wait until you hear what happened when we got to school on Monday morning. It was really weird!
We all met up in the playground as usual, and we were still going on about Brad Martin, and where he might be staying in Cuddington. We’d spent most of Sunday on the phone to each other too, discussing the very same thing, until our parents put their feet down. My dad had said that he’d gag me if I didn’t shut up about it!
“I reckon we should go over to Buckingham House after school and check it out,” Kenny suggested as we all sat down on the playground wall. “We might see Brad leaving for the theatre.”
“Don’t let Mrs Windsor catch us though,” Fliss said, looking alarmed.
“Why?” Kenny said with a grin. “Are you scared of her, Flissy?”
Fliss blushed. “A bit,” she muttered
“Well, she can’t stop us hanging around outside her house,” I said firmly. “It’s a public footpath!”
“Yeah, and if Brad’s there, we’ll soon find out!” Kenny added, and we all cheered. Except Rosie.
“Um – maybe it wasn’t Brad,” Rosie muttered, looking embarrassed. “Maybe I got it wrong after all…”
“Well, there’s no harm in trying to find out, is there?” I said quickly, not wanting Rosie to feel bad about it.
“I’ve brought my autograph book,” Lyndz added. “It’ll be nice to get a proper autograph in it, I’ve only got you lot so far!”
“Flippin’ cheek!” Kenny snorted. Then she winked at us. “Sssh! Don’t say anything about Brad in front of the Gruesome Twosome!”
The M&Ms, Emma Hughes and Emily Berryman, were walking across the playground in our general direction. They’re in our class, but that’s about all we’ve got in common with them – we’re not snooty, stuck-up snobs! Nobody likes them except Alana ‘Banana’ Palmer, and that’s because she’s just about the doziest person in Cuddington Primary. But the weird thing was that today, the M&Ms were being followed across the playground by a huge crowd of kids, tagging along behind them as if they were the bee’s knees.
I frowned. “Why are all those kids following the Queen and the Goblin?”
“Maybe Emma’s been nice to someone at last,” Kenny suggested. “That’d draw a crowd!”
The M&Ms were looking well smug. They saw us sitting on the wall and grinned at each other in that incredibly sly way they have.
“We know something you don’t know!” Emily Berryman (the Goblin) chanted in her gruff voice.
“I know lots of things you don’t know, Emily,” Kenny retorted. “That’s because you’re really, really thick!”
We started giggling, and so did the whole crowd of kids. The Goblin turned purple and the Queen stuck her nose in the air like she always does.
“Oh, you think you’re so clever, Kenny!” Emma Hughes sniffed. “Well, we do know something you don’t know and we’re not going to tell you, so there!”
“Hey, Kenny,” said Alana Banana, strolling up next to the Queen. “Did you know that Emily saw that surfer guy from South Beach in Cuddington yesterday?”
I glanced at the others. So the Goblin had seen him too! That was why all those kids were following her. It was true – Brad was in Cuddington!
“You mean Brad Martin,” I said as coolly as I could.
“Yeah, that’s him,” Alana agreed.
The Goblin was now the colour of an aubergine. “What did you tell them for, Alana?” she howled.
“Everyone else knows.” Alana Banana pointed at the crowd of kids behind them. “You said you wanted to tell everyone.”
“Yes, but not them!” Emma Hughes snapped, looking as if she was about to rip Alana Banana’s head off.
“Bet you didn’t really see him anyway!” called someone in the crowd.
“Yeah, it’s a wind-up, isn’t it, Emily?” added Ryan Scott. He was with his mate Danny McCloud, who’s also in our class.
“Well, I saw him too—” Rosie began. “OW!”
I didn’t see what happened, but I guessed Kenny had elbowed her to shut her up. After all, why should we help the Gruesome Twosome out?
“I did see him!” the Goblin snapped.
“Well, did you get his autograph?” Danny demanded.
“No, I couldn’t,” Emily muttered. “I was in the car with my dad, and he wouldn’t stop. But it was definitely Brad Martin, and he was wearing a black fleece, jeans and a black baseball cap!”
“Never mind, Em.” The Queen linked arms with the Goblin, and threw us another haughty stare. “We’ll soon find out where he’s staying, and when we’ve got his autograph, everyone will have to believe you!”
Then the M&Ms swanned off again. The crowd of kids still scurried after them though, trying to find out if it was a wind-up or not.
“Did you hear that?” Fliss gasped. “Emily described Brad wearing exactly the same clothes as Rosie did! It must have been him!”
“I knew it was!” Rosie said triumphantly.
Kenny was frowning. “Yeah, but the question is – how are we going to find out where Brad’s staying before the M&Ms do?”
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Well, now that we were pretty sure Brad Martin was somewhere in Cuddington, there was no stopping us! And we were determined to see him before the M&Ms did, and get his autograph. The trouble was, half the kids in the school had the same idea, by the sound of it. Everyone was planning search parties around Cuddington to see if they could flush Brad out of his hiding place. Then a rumour started that a couple of kids in Year Four had seen him in the village on Sunday evening near to the B&B, Buckingham House, and that set everyone off again.
“There’s going to be a whole crowd of kids charging off to Buckingham House after school today,” Kenny grumbled as we walked back to class after assembly. “We haven’t got a chance of finding Brad first!”
“What’s all this fuss about Brad Martin anyway?” Ryan Scott grumbled. We all looked round, and he winked at Fliss, who giggled. “I’m better-looking than he is any day!”
“No, you’re not, Ryan,” I said. “No-one wants your autograph!”
“Fliss does!” Kenny chimed in.
“Shut up, Kenny!” Fliss hissed, and gave her a shove which sent her smack into Emily Berryman.
“You did that on purpose, Laura McKenzie!” the Goblin growled.
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