Mega Sleepover 2. Narinder Dhami

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      “What difference can a hamster make?” she said. “It’ll be enough of a madhouse with all you girls round.” But she smiled, so we knew she was only kidding.

      We were all so excited to be sleeping over at a different house, we raced off home to get our things packed. “See you at seven,” Rosie called after us. “Don’t be late.”

      When I got home I gave Pepsi an extra good brush and clean up and told Mum and Dad they’d better keep her like that.

      “Don’t let her roll in anything on her walk tonight,” I warned them.

      “Yes, boss,” said Dad. “Any more orders while you’re away?”

      “Yes,” I said. “Kindly collect me at eleven in the morning. And don’t be late!”

      When we arrived at Rosie’s we went straight upstairs and dumped our sleepover kits on her bedroom floor. She’s right, her room does look a bit funny with no wallpaper, just plaster on the walls, but her mum lets her put posters up, so it doesn’t look boring; it’s dead colourful in fact. She’s got Oasis, Blur and Leicester City football team, loads of pictures of dogs and people out of the soaps on her walls. Rosie’s soppy about soaps.

      Her dad’s promised to come round soon and decorate, so her mum says she’s allowed to write on the walls, which none of the rest of us are allowed to do in our bedrooms.

      Rosie said we could help her if we wanted to. It was so cool. We wrote loads of jokes, like What did the spaceman see in his frying pan? An unidentified frying object. And What do you do if you find a blue banana? Try to cheer it up.

      Rosie said it would certainly cheer her up, when she was lying in bed at night, to read those jokes.

      “Just think,” I said, “in about a zillion years…”

      “When the aliens come,” said Lyndz.

      “…they might take this wallpaper off and find these jokes.”

      So then we got into writing messages to Martians and it all got a bit silly. One of them was a bit rude. We had to scribble it out before Rosie’s mum saw it. It’s a good job we did because just then she came in to tell us to come down for tea.

      “Great,” said Kenny, “I’m ravishing.”

      “Don’t you mean ravenous?” said Rosie’s mum

      “I’m ravishing, too,” said Kenny, pulling one of her silly faces.

      “You’re weird, you mean,” I said. Then she chased me downstairs to the kitchen. Rosie’s mum had laid out a great spread for us with paper cups and plates and fancy serviettes, just like a party. She’s dead nice. She’s going to college to learn to be a nursery nurse. Rosie has an older sister, Tiffany, but she’s always out with her boyfriend, Spud. Her brother Adam was there, though. We’re really getting used to Adam now. It was strange at first, talking to someone who can’t talk back to you, but Rosie’s mum can tell us what he wants to say because he sort of spells it out with his head and she can understand him. So can Rosie some of the time, if he does it slowly.

      We had pizza and salad and oven chips, and ice cream for afters. The pizza was OK, but it wasn’t a patch on my dad’s. The ice cream was heavenly, though: pecan and toffee fudge. Mmm, mmm. Rosie’s mum sat and fed Adam, because he can’t feed himself, and then she sat him on her knee to give him a drink through one of those baby feeder cups. All the time we were eating he was watching us and listening to what we were saying.

      “What are you grinning at?” Rosie said.

      Adam stopped drinking because he was choking a bit.

      “That’s what comes of trying to drink and grin at the same time,” said his mum. Then Adam started shaking his head. He was trying to spell something. It was a poem he’d made up, while he’d been watching us have tea. Rosie says he’s always making up poems…and jokes. Rosie’s mum started spelling it out.

      “F-I-V…Five?” she said. Adam nodded then spelt out some more.

      “Little…Piggies? Sitting…in…a…row? R-O-S…Rosie’s the F-A-T-T…” Rosie started to squeal, “Tell him to stop.”

      Her mum grinned. “OK, young man, that’s enough. Remember your manners.”

      “You’re the little piggy,” Rosie told Adam.

      “That’s about right,” their mum said, wiping his chin.

      After we’d eaten Rosie said we could explore her house. There are five bedrooms on the first floor, then a staircase which leads to two more rooms, right up in the roof. In places, I could only just stand up straight without banging my head on the ceiling. The rooms were full of packing cases, cardboard boxes and old bits of furniture. There were no light bulbs up there, so when it started to get dark we couldn’t turn on the lights and that made it really spooky.

      We played Hide and Seek and Murder in the Dark all over the upstairs and in the attic rooms, squealing and rushing around. There were no light-bulbs up there so we had to use our torches and that made it really spooky. But in no time it was nine o’clock and Rosie’s mum came to tell us to get ready for bed. We didn’t argue. Actually, we were looking forward to going to bed. That’s the best bit.

      

      Rosie’s room only has one bed in it but it’s a double bed. It’s coo-ell. None of the rest of us has a doule bed. She’s so lucky. We all tried to fit into it, like playing Sardines; we just piled on top of each other. But there was no way we could sleep like that.

      “Give me some room,” yelled Kenny who was right in the middle. “It’s too hot in here.”

      “I’m falling out,” yelled Lyndz.

      “Can’t you breathe in?” yelled Rosie.

      “All night?” I said. “Get real.”

      So in the end we decided two of us would have to sleep in sleeping bags on the floor. We tossed for it. Oh, great. Guess who lost? Me, of course. And Fliss, who moaned on and on about how it wasn’t fair, even though it really was.

      After we’d been in the bathroom we sat up in our sleeping bags with our sleepover diaries. At least the rest of us did; Fliss was too busy playing with Gazza.

      Kenny was scribbling away like mad, she’d finished before I’d even thought about mine. She slammed her diary shut, “That’s me done,” she said.

      “Read us what you’ve put,” said Lyndz.

      “What’s it worth?” she said, which is Kenny’s favourite question.

      “If you do, I’ll let you hold Gazza while I write mine,” said Fliss.

      “Oh, great big hairy deal,” said Kenny. But then she said, “OK.”

      She СКАЧАТЬ