Best Friends!

Rose Impey

Contents

Half Title Title Page Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Copyright About the Publisher

1

Hey, pssst. It’s me, Frankie – over here, in the bushes. Don’t look round! And whatever you do, don’t look up! Meet me the other side of the dog park in five. I’ll be the one in the sunglasses and the mad hat. And come alone – this is for your ears only!

Sorry about the cloak and dagger stuff, but this time it’s serious. This time we almost got arrested. And we still might – if this rescue operation goes wrong. I’m dreading it. You know what I’m like about heights!

Anyway, let’s find somewhere to sit while we’re waiting for the others and I’ll tell you the whole gory story…

Now, where shall I start? I probably need to go way back, before the Sleepover Club even existed and tell you how we all came to be best friends – and sworn enemies of the gruesome M&Ms.

In the very beginning there were just two of us: Me, Francesca Theresa Thomas – Frankie to all my friends (which of course means you) – and my best mate Kenny. Her real name’s Laura McKenzie, but everyone calls her Kenny – if they know what’s good for them! We met at playschool when we were three years old. Kenny came flying down the slide and smashed right into the back of me. I was so mad, until I saw her cheeky grin and heard her say, “Hey, soz, didn’t see you there,” which was pretty unbelievable, because even then I was big for my age. But I couldn’t stay angry with Kenny for long and it’s been like that ever since.

Sometimes in drama lessons we do this exercise where we have to describe a character we’re playing as if they’re a piece of fruit or… a piece of furniture. For example, if I were a piece of furniture, I’d be this a-mazing chair I once saw in a museum. It looked Egyptian; it was like a huge throne, with carved wooden legs with cats’ heads on them. It wasn’t what you’d call comfortable, but dead cool. I would kill to have it in my bedroom.

Kenny would be a chair too, but one of those office chairs. You know, the type that goes up and down and round in circles and given the slightest encouragement charges across the room at forty miles an hour skittling everything in its path. It would be blue and white, which are Leicester City Football Club colours, because Kenny is their biggest fan. And it would probably be waving a scarf and cheering!

We met Lyndz, Lyndsey Collins, when we were five and went to Cuddington County Primary School. If Lyndz were a chair she’d be soft and cozy, the most comfy armchair in the world. Imagine your favourite place to cuddle up and watch TV, or read a book – that’s Lyndz.

I know everyone says threes don’t work – someone’s bound to end up left out and feeling jealous – but Lyndz doesn’t have a jealous bone in her body so we all got on just fine. In class, if ever we had to work in pairs, Lyndz would choose some Billy-no-mates to work with. Lyndz has this big heart, so big you could probably float the whole of Leicester on it.

One of the people she sometimes took pity on was Fliss, full name: Felicity Diana Sidebotham. Fliss is definitely not a chair. She’d be more like one of those fancy curved dressing tables. You know the kind, with pink curtains underneath and frills and tassels. Fliss is a very pink person.

It’s hard to imagine now, but in those days she was a bit of a Felicity-no-mates. She was a bit shy and a bit girly for Kenny’s taste. But when the M&Ms started their Campaign of Terror, well, we had to do something, didn’t we?

The M&Ms’ real names are Emma Hughes and Emily Berryman – sometimes known as The Queen and the Goblin or The Gruesome Twosome. The M&Ms would have been our enemies, even if they’d never done anything to us, just because they’re the most disgusting, sneaky, stuck up goody-goodies in the entire history of the universe and beyond. And, no, I’m not exaggerating!

If the M&Ms were pieces of furniture they’d probably be matching gold mirrors, like the one in Snow White. If you asked them, “Who is the fairest of us all?” they’d scream back at you, “We are, of course, you idiot!”

One of the most irritating things about the M&Ms is that they always have to be top of everything and bosses of the class. If there’s ever a competition with a prize to win, somehow they always manage to win it.

But worse than that: their idea of fun is to pick on people who can’t stick up for themselves. And one of those people was Fliss.

Fliss really cares about her appearance and – how can I put this – well, she’s pretty vain. So, when the M&Ms stuck chewing gum in her long blonde hair, squirted tomato ketchup – accidentally on purpose – down her designer T-shirt and put hamster droppings in the pocket of her new, very expensive Bennetton jacket… and then squashed them, Fliss almost had a nervous breakdown.

As if all that wasn’t enough, they started to give her the Smile Treatment. Believe me, there is nothing more unpleasant than being smiled at by those two muppets. Whenever Fliss glanced up from her work one of them was already looking in her direction, smiling. She’d nudge the other one and they’d both smile, as if to say, “Wait till you see what we’ve got planned for you!”

In no time Fliss was a complete designer bag of nerves. Her mum, Nicky, told us later she’d been having trouble getting Fliss to school for weeks. She’d even threatened to run away which was a big thing for Fliss, because camping is on her list of Least Favourite Things to do Before I Die.

Anyway, when Lyndz found her crying one day in the toilets at school she came straight back and told us.

“I think we should let Fliss sit with us in class,” she said. “I feel sooo…”

“…sorry for her,” Kenny and I joined in. That could be Lyndz’s theme tune.

“Well, I do,” she insisted.

At first, we weren’t exactly sympathetic, because as Kenny said, “It doesn’t take a lot to get Fliss crying.” But once we’d heard the full list of things those two gonks had been up to, even Kenny said, “OK, now I feel sorry for her.”

So for the next week the four of us sat together in lessons and it was OK. If any bits of bother broke out between Kenny and Fliss, Lyndz launched one of her international peace-keeping missions. In fact everything seemed fine until Fliss turned up to school with the invitations. I bet you can guess what colour those were!

Lyndz opened hers first and broke out into a big smile, so then I opened mine. I thought it would just be an invitation to tea, but it was for tea… and to sleep over… at Fliss’s house… all four of us.

Lyndz looked pretty pleased; I was… surprised; Kenny was trying not to choke. I mean, we’d never really done anything like that before. Kenny had slept at my house once or twice, and I’d stayed once at Lyndz’s when my parents went to a conference, but we’d never had a proper sleepover – not all of us together.

As Kenny said later, “We don’t really know Fliss yet.”

We’d never even been to her house. We weren’t sure we were ready for this. But Lyndz said, “I think we should go. It’ll be… nice.”

“It’ll be pink,” Kenny muttered.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Lyndz persisted.

“It’ll be frilly,” Kenny argued.

They both turned and looked at me. “What do you think, Frankie?”

If I’m absolutely honest, which is what my parents always encourage me to be, because they’re lawyers and they think honesty is more important than anything else in life, I’d probably have to admit I was on Kenny’s side. I don’t like change much. I thought we were fine as we were, just the three of us. It wasn’t that I had anything against Fliss joining our gang, I didn’t want anyone to join.

The others were waiting for me to give the casting vote, but before I could the M&Ms came round the corner and saw the invitations in our hands.

“Oooh, someone’s having a party,” Emma Hughes said in her silly, simpery voice.

“It wouldn’t be Flossy Slidebottom, would it?” Emily Berryman asked.

“She must be desperate for friends if she’s got to ask this lot,” Emma sneered.

“At least she’s got some friends,” I snapped back at them.

“Not just partners in crime,” Kenny backed me up.

The M&Ms grinned at each other like they’d won some points for how easily they could wind us up.

“Well, have a wonderful time,” Emma Hughes simpered as they disappeared down the corridor.

“Oh, we will!” I called after them.

“Don’t you worry,” Kenny added. “We’ll have a ball!”

“We’ll have the best time ever,” I shouted even louder.

After they’d gone Lyndz stood there, trying not to smile.

“I take it we’re going then,” she said.

It does seem really funny now to think it was because of the M&Ms that the four of us came to be friends and start the whole Sleepover Club in the first place. It’s what my gran calls poetic justice.

“Sometimes,” she says, “really good things can come – even out of the most unlikely places!”

2

Fliss was so excited when we accepted her invitations it made us all feel pretty mean. She must have asked fifty times what kind of food we liked to eat and did two of us mind sleeping in sleeping bags on the floor. “Because I’ve only got two beds, but Mum’s bought these cool new duvet covers. They’re the most fantastic colour…”

I could see Kenny rolling her eyes and mouthing, “Pink!”

I thought it would be a bit of a miracle if we actually got Kenny there on the Friday, but in the end we all made it.

As my mum and dad dropped us off they said, “Have a great time.”

“And try to get some sleep,” Mum added.

I told her, “That’s why it’s called a sleepover, Mum, because that’s what you do!”

“If only it worked like that,” Mum sighed, which just goes to show that sometimes mums know more than you think!

From the moment Nicky opened the door and we got our first glimpse of Fliss’s house, we all started to worry.

If Fliss is a pink person, her mum, Nicky, is pale cream. Don’t get me wrong, Nicky’s great, we love her to bits – now we know her. But when she asked us to take off our shoes before we came in and check our bags were clean before we put them down on the carpet we knew we’d have to be on our best behaviour.

She led us straight through to her shiny cream kitchen where she’d set out this tea party. The table was covered with little cakes and jellies and miniature sandwiches and rolls, and there were balloons and streamers and candles, like it was this full-on birthday party or something, just for the four of us! Fliss’s younger brother, Callum, was there, of course, staring at us like we were three aliens who’d come to tea. But Kenny did that cross-eyed thing she does which soon stopped him.

You could see Nicky was feeling pretty nervous and it was making all of us nervous too. We’re not exactly clumsy types but we kept nudging each other as we reached for the same sandwich.

“Ooops, sorry,” Lyndz said.

“No, my fault,” I insisted.

Then Kenny knocked her drink over! It was like it was in slow motion: the juice flew up in the air but Kenny followed it with her cup and did this brilliant save, managing to catch every drop. It was such a great party trick we all felt like cheering. But Nicky clearly didn’t realise how fast Kenny’s reflexes are, because she looked like she might faint with the tension.

Then Lyndz slurped her drink, which she often does. But the room was so quiet the slurp sounded like it was on loudspeaker. We couldn’t wait to finish tea and escape upstairs to Fliss’s bedroom. But when we finally did – can you believe it – Nicky came with us!

She sat on Fliss’s bed, smiling. “Why don’t you show your friends round a bit,” she suggested. So Fliss gave us a guided tour of her wardrobes – yes, she has two! Then her drawers with all her clothes colour coordinated

“These are my second best tops and T-shirts,” she said, “but these…” she added, opening another cupboard, “are my very best. For special occasions only.” They were neatly folded like they have them in the shops. Some were still in plastic covers to keep them perfectly clean.

We all knew Fliss was mad about clothes, but until then we hadn’t realised it was like a religion with her. I could see Kenny looking for the nearest exit and when Nicky suggested to Fliss we might want to play some games next, I thought I might join her.

I had a horrible feeling Nicky might have made us a Pin the Tail on the Donkey and we’d spend the whole night pretending to have a really, spiffing, jolly time. Even Fliss was feeling embarrassed by now.

“Actually, Mum,” she said, “I think we might just sit and… talk for a bit.”

“OK,” Nicky said, brightly, but just went on sitting there!

Fliss screwed her face up and said, “Mu-u um…” until Nicky finally got the hint.

“I’ll just leave you to it then, shall I?” she said, closing the door.

We’d all just let out our breath for the first time since we arrived when she was suddenly back. “But let me know if there’s anything you need. I could bring you a drink in half an hour when you’re ready for bed.”

Half an hour! She had to be joking.

“We’ll let you know, Mum,” Fliss said between gritted teeth, firmly closing the door behind her.

Even after we heard Nicky’s footsteps going downstairs we went on sitting there, feeling really awkward. And then a terrible thing happened: Fliss burst into tears.

“Oh, it’s been horrible, hasn’t it?” she sobbed. “You’ve all hated it. You’ll never come again. You won’t be my friends any more. I don’t blame you; nobody likes me!”

This was far worse than anything that had happened so far. Kenny and I didn’t know what to do. But good old Lyndz went and sat beside Fliss and put her arm round her.

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “It’s been… lovely. We don’t know each other very well yet; it’s bound to be a bit awkward the first time.”

Kenny and I tried not to look like we were thinking: you can say that again.

And then Lyndz’s next suggestion had us both ready to bolt.

“I know a little game we could play,” she said.

“What kind of game?” Kenny asked suspiciously.

“We’ll need a pen and a sheet of paper each. We fold the paper into a fan and we put our name on it,” Lyndz told us.

“Then what?” I asked, equally suspiciously.

“We pass the fan round and everyone has to write something nice on it, something they like about us. They’re called friendship fans…” Lyndz trailed off. She was looking at me, sort of appealingly.

In the end I just shrugged and said, “OK, why not?”

I didn’t look at Kenny. I knew she’d have plenty of reasons why not if I gave her half a chance. But afterwards even Kenny had to admit it was actually a fun thing to do, because everyone had something nice or funny or surprising written about them.

Everyone told Lyndz what a good laugh and a great person she was and how we even loved her smiley knees, which she has a thing about – and her hiccups, which she gets all the time!

I’m not being bigheaded, but I got lots of comments about being a good leader and having all the best ideas and being the person everyone would want with them if they were ever stranded on a desert island – you know the kind of stuff.

But most surprising were the things Fliss and Kenny wrote about each other.

Kenny said she thought Fliss was a bit of a genius when it came to colours and clothes and things. And while she didn’t give a stuff about them most of the time herself it would probably be good to have Fliss’s talent – in case you ever needed it.

And Fliss wrote how Kenny was her all-time hero. She said she thought Kenny was the bravest, most fearless person she’d ever met and she really wanted to be more like her, instead of being scared of everything. She said she couldn’t believe someone like Kenny would want to be friends with someone like her.

When Kenny heard that she went very…pink and did what she always does when she’s embarrassed: started pulling ridiculous faces and behaving like an idiot until she had us all rolling around on the floor in hysterics.

That completely broke the ice. Then things just got better and better and the sleepover really got going.

3

Can you remember your first sleepover? It’s always special, isn’t it? Sort of the best. Well, this one started off the worst – but then it was the best. A lot of the things that we do now whenever we have our sleepovers, we thought up that first night.

International Gladiators was Kenny’s idea and, because it was Kenny’s idea, Fliss was determined to give it a go. She wanted to prove she wasn’t a wimp and could be pretty fearless too.

The first event Kenny came up with was called Barging Contests. We have to get into pairs, one on the other’s back, like we’re horse riding. The two riders have to try to knock each other off using only their elbows, or sometimes a squishy pooh. A squishy pooh can be a sleeping bag, or a pillow case filled with clothes or cushions, that you swing at your opponent trying to knock her off. It can be pretty wild, especially when Kenny’s on the other end of the squishy pooh.

Having seen Fliss’s bedroom, I never thought she’d go for it in a gazillion years. She has enough ornaments and toys around to open a shop. But in minutes she’d cleared everything breakable out of the way and was on Lyndz’s back ready to do battle.

“Let’s go, go, go!” she squealed, hanging on to Lyndz for dear life and whirling her squishy pooh around her head.

“Prepare to meet the floor!” Kenny warned her.

“You wish,” Fliss replied.

I’ve probably made Fliss sound a bit of a fuss-pot (which she can be) and a bit of a cry baby (which she used to be), but Fliss is lots of other things too. She can be fierce when it’s a competition; she loves to win as much as Kenny does, and she really gave her a run for her money.

“Bulls eye!” Fliss shrieked every time she caught Kenny off guard. If Kenny wasn’t so tough Fliss would have had her off loads of times. I knew how hard Kenny was trying by the way she was digging her heels into me. Kenny’s such a brilliant aim, she hardly ever misses, but Fliss was brilliant too – at ducking. Several times Kenny missed her completely and nearly fell off herself.

In fact Fliss was doing so well she started getting cocky. Big mistake.

“So who’s got a date with the floor?” Fliss asked grinning, and forgetting to duck.

Wham! Kenny caught her full in the face. She fell backwards on to the bed carrying her horse with her. The pair of them landed so heavily the whole house seemed to shake.

In moments Nicky burst into the room expecting to find one of us fatally injured. Instead she found Fliss and Lyndz lying on the bed with their legs in the air, screaming with laughter.

“It’s OK, Mum, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Fliss told her. “Nobody broke anything.”

“I think you won,” Fliss told Kenny afterwards.

But Kenny admitted, “It was a close thing.”

After our mad half hour we thought we’d perhaps better quieten down a bit and at least start getting ready for bed. Then we all suddenly got a bit shy around each other again, so Fliss said we could get undressed in the bathroom. But Lyndz said, “No need,” and she taught us all this brilliant technique she called Sleeping Bag Striptease.

“This is what you do,” she said, wriggling down inside her sleeping bag until only her head was poking out, and started flinging her clothes out around the room and finally pulling on her PJs. Then she sat up looking a bit hot and bothered, but grinning from ear to ear.

When we timed ourselves, Kenny was the fastest, even though it was the first time she’d ever done it. But Fliss was almost as fast.

That twenty seconds record that Kenny set has been beaten lots of times since. Not by me, I might add, because I’m too tall. There’s never as much room in my sleeping bag and I often end up with both legs down the same trouser leg. It’s not easy being a beanpole, you know.

Once we were all ready for bed came the best part: the midnight feast. We’d all brought secret supplies and, after we were quite sure Nicky wasn’t coming back in, we turned off all the lights and sat round in a circle with our torches on. Kenny said we should put all the food together in a bowl that we’d made Fliss sneak down to the kitchen to borrow.

“You can’t possibly mix smoky bacon crisps with Skittles and fruit jellies,” Fliss said, horrified.

“Watch me,” Kenny said, busy tearing packets open.

Then we passed the bowl round and all tucked in. It was a bit like a lucky dip, not knowing what you’d pull out. Afterwards the crumbs and stuff left in the bottom did look a bit of a mess: “Like Nappy’s brain,” I said.

There’s a really annoying boy who lives next door to me, called Nathan, but I call him Nappyhead. If he had a brain, which I doubt, it would probably look just like that bowl of mangled leftovers.

“Somebody should eat it,” Kenny said, grinning. “I dare Lyndz.”

But before Lyndz had chance to say anything, Fliss said, “I’ll do it,” and stuffed her mouth full to bursting, while the rest of us made being sick noises.

“Whoa! Way to go, Fliss,” Lyndz said and we all cheered. There was definitely more to Fliss than we’d realised.

Although it was getting really late by now no one wanted to get into bed and go to sleep.

“Tell us a story, Frankie,” Kenny said.

“What kind of story?”

“Scary,” said Lyndz, grinning, “at least a bit scary.”

“Yeah, full of blood and guts,” Kenny said, drawing her top lip back and baring her teeth so she looked like a vampire.

But being scared half to death in her own bedroom was not one of the things Fliss was up for. “I don’t do scary,” she said firmly. “I’ll have nightmares.”

“Not with us here, you won’t,” Kenny promised. Famous last words.

While the other two sat right beside her with their arms round her shoulders, I made up this story about a bloodsucking vampire called Vladimir that lives at the top of the Clock Tower in the middle of Leicester.

“He can make himself invisible so he can slip into your bags and follow you home when you’ve been shopping,” I told them.

“Don’t say that,” Fliss begged. “I’m always round there shopping with my mum. I’ll never dare go again,” she wailed.