The Sleepover Club on the Farm. Sue Mongredien

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СКАЧАТЬ I was far too excited about going to the farm to even THINK about sleeping.

      Somehow, I managed it though. Just as I was thinking, there was no way I could possibly get to sleep, the next thing I knew it was morning and the sun was shining again. Hooray!

      After breakfast, I told Mum what Mrs Mack had said about the farm being muddy and between us, we hunted out five pairs of wellies. I had my new blue ones, Rosie squashed her little tootsies into my old pair that were too small for me now, Kenny Big-Foot borrowed a pair of Tom’s and Frankie wore a pair of my mum’s. There was also an old pair of Stuart’s boots that we offered Fliss, but she wasn’t having any of it.

      “No, thanks, I’m going to wear my new trainers,” she said, waving a foot proudly to show us. “Nice, aren’t they?”

      “They are nice, Fliss, but they won’t be for much longer if you wear them on the farm,” my mum told her. “Honestly, love, you’ll get them covered in mud.”

      “Well, I won’t go in any mud,” Fliss said promptly. “Thanks, Mrs Collins, and I don’t want to be rude but I really don’t want to wear those wellies.”

      “It’s up to you,” my mum said, putting them back in the cupboard. “But I don’t want your mum phoning me up tonight, all upset because your new trainers are ruined.”

      “Oh, she won’t,” Fliss said confidently. “Because there is no way I’m going to set foot in any yucky mud, and that’s that!”

      

      Confident words from Fliss, all right, but as soon as Dad dropped us off at the farm, she realised she was going to have to EAT those words. Mrs Mackintosh hadn’t been exaggerating about the mud – it was everywhere, even all the way up from the garages to the farmhouse door!

      Squelch! Squelch! Squelch! Me, Rosie, Kenny and Frankie happily splodged through the mud up to the house. We turned round to see Fliss slithering about behind us, trying to stay on her tiptoes as thick brown mud splurged around her gleaming white trainers.

      Mrs Mack pulled open the front door. “Hello, Lyndsey, hello, girls,” she said with a warm smile. Mrs Mack is ALWAYS smiling. She’s one of the jolliest people I’ve ever met. Mind you, she looked almost serious for a moment when she caught sight of Fliss, still halfway up to the door, trying desperately to tread on the grassy bits. “Oh dear,” she said thoughtfully. “I think I’m going to have to find a spare pair of welly boots for someone, aren’t I?”

      “Look at her,” Kenny giggled. “Hey, Poo-Foot! Get a move on!”

      Fliss glared at her. “This is sooo gross,” she moaned. “I feel sick!”

      Once Fliss had made it into the farmhouse and Mrs Mack had persuaded her to swap her trainers – which already looked as if Fliss had been stuck in a bog – for a pair of boots, she took us all into the big, warm farm kitchen. “Now come and see the two new members of the Mackintosh family, a boy and a girl,” she said, bringing us over to a cardboard box. “Oh, they’re having a sleep right now. Can you see?”

      The five of us knelt on the stone floor to peer into the box. And there, fast asleep and all curled up, were two darling little lambs. They were both pure, pure white apart from their black noses, and they looked all small and helpless. Without thinking, my hand just went straight in and stroked one of them very gently. Soooo cuddly and soft!

      “Oh!” I said. “He’s so… woolly!”

      “Derr… really?” Kenny said sarcastically, but even she was reaching a hand in to stroke a soft little coat. “Ahhh… look at this one’s tiny little ears.”

      “What are they called?” Rosie asked Mrs Mack.

      “Well, do you know, I haven’t given them names yet,” she replied. “Maybe you girls would like to think of something to call them?”

      “Snowy,” said Frankie at once.

      Fliss pulled a face. “That’s sooo boring,” she said. “Our neighbour’s cat is called Snowy.”

      “We used to have a rabbit called Snowy, too,” I added.

      “How about… Poo-Foot?” Kenny giggled. “Oh, no – we already know someone called that, don’t we, Fliss?”

      “Stop calling me that, Kenny,” Fliss said crossly. “No one thinks it’s funny”

      Fliss was starting to look a bit upset. You can always tell because her bottom lip starts turning down, and her cheeks get a bit pink.

      “Hmmm… what about Snowdrop, then?” Rosie suggested quickly, looking at a pot of snowdrops that Mrs Mack had on one of the windowsills.

      “Snowdrop is a cute name,” I agreed, twitching one of the lambs’ ears. “You can be Snowdrop, little one! What do you think, Fliss?”

      Fliss shrugged, still in a narky mood. “Whatever,” she sniffed.

      “What about this one, then?” Frankie said, stroking Snowdrop’s little sister. “Look, she’s got a tiny bit of black on her face. How about… er …”

      “Snowflake,” I said.

      “Cornflake,” Kenny joked. “Or chocolate Flake! Hey, Flake-brain, what do you think of your new name?”

      “Don’t be so stoooopid, Kenny,” Fliss said, rolling her eyes.

      “How about naming her after another flower to go with Snowdrop?” Frankie suggested. “How about Crocus?”

      “Sounds like a frog’s name!” I said. “Croak-us – get it?”

      “How about Jasmine?” Rosie said.

      “That’s pretty,” Fliss said. “Snowdrop and Jasmine – don’t they sound sweet?”

      Ooh! Just as she said that, the two tiny lambs started waking up. “Oh, look, they know their names already,” I said in delight. “Hello, Snowdrop. Hello, Jasmine!”

      Snowdrop stood up on his wobbly little legs and pushed his nose into Mrs Mack’s hand. Then he bleated plaintively. Ma-a-a-a! he went.

      “Someone’s hungry, by the sound of it,” Mrs Mack said, giving him a friendly stroke. “I’ll just warm up your bottle, Snowdrop.”

      Then Jasmine started bleating too. Maaaa-aaa-aa! Maa-aa-aa! I couldn’t resist any more and picked her up to cuddle her. “Oh, hungry baby, it won’t be long,” I crooned into her little ear. Honestly, my heart was just MELTING as I held her warm little body. Then she snuggled her head into my neck and I thought I would burst with happiness!

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