Mega Sleepover 4. Narinder Dhami

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      “Cool!” we all gasped.

      “Adam did these on the computer for me. I thought it would be nice if we could all wear one for the sleepover,” she seemed very pleased with herself. “All you’ve got to do is cut them out and make them into a badge. Is that OK?”

      “Yep, I think even we can manage that!” I laughed, pulling a face at Frankie.

      “Now,” said Rosie, reading from one of her larger sheets of paper. “What I thought was: arrive at 5pm, put things in my room until 5.15pm, games outside until 6.15pm, make-up and hair, (possibly a fashion show if we can fit it in) until 7pm, food until 7.45pm, Twister until 8.15pm, then disco until mum sends us to bed, which she says will be about 10pm – if we’re lucky! Washing and undressing until 10.30pm, giving out presents until 11pm, then midnight feast. Everybody OK with that?”

      We were all sitting round with our jaws scraping the pavement. Was this girl for real? This was more like a military exercise than a sleepover. It was supposed to be fun for goodness sake!

      “Erm, Rosie, I think you’ve forgotten one thing,” I said very seriously.

      “No, I can’t have. I was up all night planning this. What have I forgotten?” she said, furiously reading through her timetable.

      “What about toilet breaks?” I giggled. “I mean what if we need to go to the loo in the middle of the outdoor games? Should you plan for us to all to go together just to be on the safe side? Then we won’t mess up your timetable.”

      “Like at school you mean?” Rosie looked very thoughtful. “That’s not a bad idea. I’ll see where I can fit it in.” The rest of us cracked up. Even Fliss knew that I was joking and Fliss has a sense of humour the size of a pea.

      “And I’m not sure about the beginning bit,” said Lyndz. Rosie flicked through her notes. “You mean ‘arrive at 5pm put things in my room at 5.15pm?’ What’s wrong with that?”

      “Well what if one of us is late? Or it takes us longer to get our stuff sorted out?” asked Lyndz.

      “Yes and where are we going to put the presents so the others can’t see them?” asked Fliss.

      “Oh no!” gasped Rosie. “I’ve got to do some more planning. But you can’t be late. You just can’t be. It’ll mess everything up if you are!” She looked as though she was going to cry.

      “Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit seriously?” asked Frankie gently.

      “I just want it all to be perfect, what’s wrong with that?” snapped Rosie. “It’s not just any old sleepover. It’s our tenth birthday sleepover and I want to make sure we’ll all remember it.”

      She was certainly right about that. I don’t think any of us will ever forget it!

      “Is there anything you want us to bring?” I asked. “Stopwatches, so we don’t run over time? Running shoes so we can sprint from one thing to another?”

      “Party clothes? Balloons? Cuddly toy?” asked Frankie.

      “What about the cake?” asked Fliss. “We’ve got to have a cake.”

      Rosie began to search frantically through all her sheets of paper.

      “The cake!” she shrieked. “How could I forget about the cake?”

      It was a bit sad really, seeing her get so upset.

      “Don’t worry. We could buy one,” I suggested.

      “We’ve no money,” Lyndz reminded me.

      “Well let’s make one then!” Frankie said.

      Now the Sleepover Club are not exactly the greatest bakers in the world. In fact, we are a total disaster in the kitchen.

      “Is that a good idea?” asked Fliss. Her mum never lets her loose in their gleaming white kitchen. Not after we nearly burnt the place down anyway.

      “Sure it is!” said Lyndz very confidently. “My mum’s a mean cook. She’ll give us a hand. She likes getting the chance to do stuff like that. She’s always complaining that my brothers aren’t interested in anything domestic. And neither am I, usually.”

      “We’ll have to do it before next Saturday,” Rosie reminded her. “Is that OK?”

      “No probs,” said Lyndz. “I’ll ask mum when I get back this afternoon and give you a ring. You can all come over to my place and we’ll have a girlie afternoon in the kitchen!”

      Now I don’t know about you, but cooking isn’t really my thing. Eating, yes. Cooking, no way. But what could I do? I couldn’t let my friends down now, could I? So when Lyndz rang that evening to say that we could all go there on the Friday before the sleepover to bake the cake, well how could I refuse?

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