Mega Sleepover 5. Louis Catt

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СКАЧАТЬ we went down to the kitchen. It looked cleaner and tidier than usual; the floor was positively gleaming! A note from Mum lay on the table:

      CAKE IN TIN. DON’T MAKE A MESS –

      NEW NEIGHBOUR COMING IN FOR TEA.

      “Ace!” Frankie said. “I love your mum’s cakes.” She went to the tin and got the cake out while I found us some coke.

      “We might as well eat down here,” I said. “With any luck Molly will be gone soon – and then we can really get busy. I haven’t made the slime jelly yet.”

      “OK.” Frankie cut two huge slices of Mum’s cake. It was chocolate – and one of her very best. The icing was thick and gooey, and the cake was soft and squidgey. Awesome!

      We were cutting ourselves a second piece when the doorbell rang.

      Frankie jumped up. “That might be for me!” she said, and we both raced for the door.

      Frankie’s mum was standing outside, and she was holding two big cardboard boxes.

      Frankie let out a loud whoop and rushed towards her. “Mum! You’re a star!”

      “I know.” Frankie’s mum smiled, and handed one box to Frankie, and the other to me. “But don’t think I’m going to make a habit of running round after you! Have a good time – and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      “Quick,” Frankie said, as her mum hurried back to the car. “We’ve got to get these in your freezer!”

      “What are they?” I asked, puzzled.

      “I’ll show you when we’re inside,” Frankie said. “But they’ll have started melting on the way over, so hurry up and open the front door!”

      “It is open—” I began, and then I saw that it wasn’t. It must have swung shut while we were talking to Frankie’s mum.

      We looked at each other in horror for a second, and then I remembered. “It’s all right,” I said. “Molly’s in.”

      I put the box down and rang the doorbell like crazy. Nothing happened at first, so I rang even harder and started hammering on the door.

      At last Molly heard me, but she didn’t come to the door. She opened the window upstairs and leant out.

      “Who is it?” she called, sounding very nervous. “Why are you making so much noise? My dad’s here! He’s very angry!”

      I stood back so she could see me. “Molly! It’s me! Open the door! And hurry up about it!”

      I can’t believe Molly sometimes. She is so mean. Of course any normal, decent person would have come and opened the door if they saw their sister stuck outside. But, as you know, Molly isn’t a normal, decent person and she didn’t – she just stared at me.

      “What are you doing out there?” she asked.

      “Just open the door!” I yelled.

      Frankie was peering into the box she was holding, looking anxious. A trickle of something red was creeping out of the bottom.

      “I’m busy,” Molly said, and would you believe it? She slammed the window shut and disappeared.

      I jammed my finger on the doorbell so it sounded like a fire alarm – but it didn’t make any difference. My horrible ghastly monster sister just ignored it.

      “Can’t we get in through the back door?” Frankie asked.

      We rushed round the side of the house, but the back door was firmly locked. We tried every window, and I even attempted climbing up a drainpipe – but it was useless. Our house was like a super-safe prison – and we were on the outside.

      I shook my head gloomily, as we walked back round to the front. “It’s no good,” I said. “It’s because of all the burglaries. Before Dad went out he told me and Mum to keep everything triple locked. And I know all the downstairs windows are shut because I locked them myself.”

      “Fantastic,” said Frankie, and she sat down on the front step. I gave the doorbell one last punch. It gave a weird clunk, and stopped ringing. When I tried again, nothing happened.

      “Well, that’s blown it,” I said, and sat on the step beside Frankie. The trickle of red from the box was longer now. It looked exactly like blood, and I stared at it.

      “Frankie – what exactly is in these boxes?”

      Frankie sighed heavily. “It was the best thing ever. Look!” And she opened the first box. Inside was something that looked exactly like a head with pale green sightless eyes gazing up at me. Well, it was almost like a head, but a head that was getting softer and squishier by the second.

      “Wow!” I gasped. “Sculpted ice cream. It’s utterly awesome!”

      “It was,” Frankie said. “I spent hours on it. The eyes are grapes, by the way… they’re probably all that’ll be left soon.”

      “What’s in the other box?” I asked, and she opened the lid. Inside was a plate with a melting block of – frozen blood?

      “It’s beetroot and raspberries mashed up,” Frankie said, and she sounded even more gloomy. “I was going to mash it some more and put the head on it… but it’s ruined now.”

      “I’ll kill Molly,” I said.

      “Maybe we could put her head on the plate,” Frankie said, but at that moment it didn’t sound much like a joke.

      Suddenly I sat up. I’d thought of something to make us feel more cheerful. “Hey,” I said, “Molly’s going to be in mega trouble with Mum for shutting us out! It’s all Molly’s fault that this has happened.”

      “Yeah,” Frankie agreed, and we both felt a tiny bit better.

      We sat on the step for at least ten minutes watching Frankie’s ice-cream head gradually dissolve. Actually, after two minutes we gave in and ate some of it. After all, we couldn’t let it go to waste, could we? But it wasn’t long before it was just a soggy mess with the two grapes swimming in the middle.

      “Do you think we’d better move the other box?” Frankie asked. “It seems to have made a bit of a mess.”

      I looked across, and she was right. The blood mixture was dripping all the way down the steps. “Hmm,” I said. “It’s a pity we can’t leave it like that. It’d be a great entrance for the others – blood on the doorstep!”

      Frankie laughed, but we both knew my mum wouldn’t agree with us. Mums are so boring when it comes to things like blood.

      “Hey, Frankie!” I leapt to my feet. I’d suddenly had an amazing flash of inspiration. “We could still use it! We could make a trail of blood drops!”

      Frankie’s eyes shone. “Wicked! A trail of gruesome spots leads the detectives in and out of the bushes and trees. In and out they hurried, until they found—”

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