Party Time. Fiona Cummings

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Anyway, as it turned out I needn’t have bothered about Fliss, because the next morning she told us that her mum was organising her own party.

      “And I don’t think she can cope with one of our sleepovers as well,” Fliss explained.

      Lyndz and I rolled our eyes at each other. I don’t think Fliss’s mum copes with our sleepovers at the best of times.

      “Actually” muttered Fliss in her quietest voice, “I thought I might like to stay at home and join in with Mum’s party myself. You wouldn’t mind, would you? I mean, not having a sleepover on New Year’s Eve after all?”

      Rosie had joined Lyndz and me by that time, and we all stared at Fliss open-mouthed.

      “Of course we’d mind!” I screeched. “You were as excited as any of us about it! And now that something better has come along, you expect us to drop the idea altogether. Well maybe the rest of us will have our sleepover without you!”

      I didn’t really mean it, but Fliss winds me up sometimes. She always expects us to alter our plans just to suit her. But it looked like our plans were altering anyway. Rosie hadn’t had any joy in persuading her mum to let us have the sleepover at her place either.

      “She says she’ll see,” Rosie told us glumly. “And that usually means she’ll pretend to think about it for a fortnight and then tell me the answer’s ‘no’ anyway.”

      I tried to sound positive. “Let’s hope McKenzie comes up with the goods. She usually does.”

      Typical Kenny. The one morning we were all desperate for her to be early (apart from Fliss, who’d gone off by herself to sulk) was the one morning she was very late. She was so late that Mrs Weaver was about to mark her absent in the register. And Kenny didn’t look happy. She didn’t look happy at all. In fact, if I didn’t know her better, I’d swear that she’d been crying.

      We knew by the way that she slammed all her pens on the desk that she was in a bad mood. We were supposed to be finding out about medical developments in the twentieth century for our bit in the play. But Kenny just made loads of doodles in her notebook. And they were all doodles of really gory things, like blood spurting out of hearts and severed legs and stuff. Awful