Sleepover Club Blitz. Angie Bates

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ talk to you than walk our dog. No, I CAN’T take her later. The poor thing’s been crossing her legs for hours.

      Strictly speaking, it was my big sister’s turn. I only agreed to do a swap on one condition. The absolute MICRO-second I get back, Tiffany has to march into that kitchen and make me a mega bowl of her dee-licious toffee-flavoured popcorn! Time-travel makes you incredibly hungry for some reason.

      Sorry, I couldn’t resist dropping that in! You should see your face! You think I’m kidding, don’t you? Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to go back in time, because I won’t believe you!

      The other day, all of us girls in the Sleepover Club shared our secret time-travel fantasies.

      Lyndz, who is totally horse-mad, if you remember, wanted to go back to before Columbus. She said she’d just LURVE to see what America looked like before white men turned up with their guns and chicken-pox germs and stuff. “I’d hang out with Native Americans, and ride bareback on those gorgeous pinto ponies they had,” she said.

      Fliss wanted to go back to when girls wore Empire-line dresses, and those gauzy little shawls. I’m not saying Fliss is a bimbo or anything, but sometimes she really gives that impression!

      “Could we have a teensy bit more info?” Kenny grinned. “Like when was this, exactly?”

      Fliss looked vague. “I don’t know. They put their hair up in this really sweet style, and they visited each other’s houses the whole time. Ooh, and the men stomped about in serious riding boots and swishy jackets, looking incredibly gorgeous.”

      It turned out Fliss had once caught an episode of Pride and Prejudice on TV, and fallen mushily in love with Mr Darcy!

      Kenny’s choice was SO not romantic. She wanted to be whisked back to 1966, purely so she could see England win the World Cup…

      Frankie didn’t fancy the past, full stop. “I’m not interested in stuff that’s, like – OVER,” she said dramatically. “It’s what’s coming next that I’m interested in. Like, how soon can I travel to other planets?”

      Personally, I’d like to be one of those feisty girls in the days of the Wild West. They could turn their hand to anything. Like, one minute they’d be making blueberry pie. And next thing, they’d grab a gun and blast away at some wild bear who’d started guzzling the family’s maple syrup supply.

      But what’s all this got to do with actual time-travel, I hear you cry?

      Yikes! Jenny’s practically pulling my arm off. Sorry, but I’m going to have to go.

      Tell you what! I’ve had a great idea. (If you’re up for it, that is?)

      Could we meet up back at my house later? Not only would that give me a chance to change into something a bit less doggy, but you’ll have my undivided attention. You can even share my popcorn, if you like.

      What do you mean, can’t I give you a tiny hint before I go? Boy, you readers show no mercy!

      OK. Here’s a Sleepover mini-trailer to keep you going.

      Picture one of those old-style newsreels, with that insanely cheerful male newsreader yelling over brass-band music.

      SOUND OF WAILING SIRENS.

      “Do you believe in time travel? You’d better! Because those five spunky Sleepover girls have just been back to the tremendously inspiring days of Spitfires, gas masks and ration books. Watch them dig for victory. Hear them warble about bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover. Laugh aloud as they try to find the outside toilet in the black-out. Find out what happens when our intrepid heroines give up the home comforts of the twenty-first century for one entire weekend, and drop in on (BOOM! CRASH!! CRUMP!!!) the Second World War – for REAL!”

      Yes, I am feeling perfectly well, thank you very much.

      No, I’m not making it up!

      But like I said, if you REALLY want to know what happened, come back and meet me after tea, OK?

      Till then, TTFN! I’ll translate later – gotta dash!!

      

      You came back! That’s SO sweet. I was worried my disgusting germs might put you off. Actually, I think the fresh air blew my cobwebs away. I’m feeling heaps better now. Plus, I’ve got all my stupid chores out of the way.

      Me and Tiff really have to pull our weight since Dad walked out, otherwise poor Mum would end up doing everything herself. Also, if you remember, my older brother, Adam, has cerebral palsy. He’d help out if he could (in some moods, anyway!). But where walking the dog is concerned, he’s not exactly a serious contender.

      Anyway, the good news is, I’m finally free to chill out with our favourite fan!! That’s YOU, dumbo… Hope you noticed I swapped the doggy jogging pants for some stylish leisure wear? Us Sleepover girls have our reputations to keep up, you know!

      My room feels cosy and welcoming, doesn’t it? It used to be the pits. I HATED coming up here. Every time I walked in, I’d find myself getting all uptight about Dad leaving Mum to cope with this like, HUGE falling-down house, all by herself.

      Don’t tell anyone, but I think I went a bit off my rocker, those first few months. Maybe that’s why, when I first joined the Sleepover Club, I did everything I could to put the others off sleeping over at our place.

      Back then I was convinced my new friends would despise me if they ever found out what a dump I lived in. Luckily they totally refused to take any notice! And I’m really glad now.

      Not only were those sleepovers a real laugh (everyone just LURVES staying at our place, for some reason), but I think they improved its vibes or something, because the atmosphere has completely changed for the better.

      During one of our sleepovers, my friends helped me redecorate it in my favourite colours. Now it’s my favourite place in the whole house. And boy! Since we came back from the 1940s it seems like total bedroom-heaven.

      OK, keep your hair on – I’ll get around to the time-travel thing eventually. First, I want to let you into a big secret. An incredibly embarrassing secret, actually.

      It’s about this boy.

      This boy that I (I’m going to whisper it, OK?) – this boy I briefly, erm, gulp (eek, this is ridiculous!) – OK, here goes! This boy I really fancied.

      YOU’RE shocked! Imagine how I felt!

      Look, don’t panic, OK – I got over it in next to no time, so I can still wear my BOYS ARE YUCK T-shirt with pride. But for two whole lessons, I truly thought I was in L.U.R.V.E.

      Is that scary or what!! Still don’t believe me? OK, I’ll give you an idea how bad it was. Would you believe an ordinary school day could feel as deliciously cool as Saturday morning hooked up to Live & Kicking and chomping your favourite brand of jelly beans? Me neither!

      Then, one morning Owen Cartwright walked into our СКАЧАТЬ