Sleepover Girls on Safari Read online

  Sleepover Girls on Safari

  by Angie Bates

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Have you been invited to all these sleepovers?

  Sleepover Kit List

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Have you been invited to all these sleepovers?

  1 The Sleepover Club at Frankie’s

  2 The Sleepover Club at Lyndsey’s

  3 The Sleepover Club at Felicity’s

  4 The Sleepover Club at Rosie’s

  5 The Sleepover Club at Laura’s

  6 Starring the Sleepover Club

  7 Sleepover Girls go Pop!

  8 The 24-Hour Sleepover Club

  9 The Sleepover Club Sleeps Out

  10 Happy Birthday Sleepover Club

  11 Sleepover Girls on Horseback

  12 Sleepover in Spain

  13 Sleepover on Friday 13th

  14 Sleepover Girls go Camping

  15 Sleepover Girls go Detective

  16 Sleepover Girls go Designer

  17 The Sleepover Club Surfs the Net

  18 Sleepover Girls on Screen

  19 Sleepover Girls and Friends

  20 Sleepover Girls on the Catwalk

  21 The Sleepover Club Goes for Goal!

  22 Sleepover Girls go Babysitting

  23 Sleepover Girls go Snowboarding

  24 Happy New Year, Sleepover Club!

  25 Sleepover Girls go Green

  25 We Love You Sleepover Club

  27 Vive le Sleepover Club!

  28 Sleepover Club Eggstravaganza

  29 Emergency Sleepover

  30 Sleepover Girls on the Range

  31 The Sleepover Club Bridesmaids

  32 Sleepover Girls See Stars

  33 Sleepover Club Blitz

  34 Sleepover Girls in the Ring

  35 Sari Sleepover

  36 Merry Christmas Sleepover Club!

  37 The Sleepover Club Down Under

  38 Sleepover Girls go Splash!

  39 Sleepover Girls go Karting

  40 Sleepover Girls go Wild!

  41 The Sleepover Club at the Carnival

  42 The Sleepover Club on the Beach

  43 Sleepover Club Vampires

  44 sleepoverclub.com

  45 Sleepover Girls go Dancing

  46 The Sleepover Club on the Farm

  47 Sleepover Girls go Gymtastic!

  48 Sleepover Girls on the Ball

  49 Sleepover Club Witches

  50 Sleepover Club Ponies

  Sleepover Kit List

  1. Sleeping bag

  2. Pillow

  3. Pyjamas or a nightdress

  4. Slippers

  5. Toothbrush, toothpaste, soap etc

  6. Towel

  7. Teddy

  8. A creepy story

  9. Food for a midnight feast: chocolate, crisps, sweets, biscuits. In fact anything you like to eat.

  10. Torch

  11. Hairbrush

  12. Hair things like a bobble or hairband, if you need them

  13. Clean knickers and socks

  14. Change of clothes for the next day

  15. Sleepover diary and membership card

  Oh, hiya! Didn’t see you there. I wasn’t really singing into my hairbrush in front of the mirror, honest. Oh, all right, I was! But I do have a good excuse. I’m practising for this cheesy school talent contest Frankie’s roped us into. I wouldn’t have agreed but she said the others REALLY needed me to be their stylist. “You’re the Sleepover Club fashion guru, Fliss,” she cooed.

  As you know, Frankie Thomas is a world expert at getting her own way and I fell for it, like I always do. Then Frankie immediately started piling on the pressure, saying it just wouldn’t feel right unless ALL the Sleepover Club girls performed with her.

  Then she turned her puppy dog eyes on me. “I can understand that you’re nervous, Flissie,” she’d said in a teacherish kind of voice. “But I don’t think you’d forgive yourself if you missed out on this unique experience.”

  I really hate myself for giving in to her. Plus I’m stuck with having to learn this impossible S Club 7 dance routine, PLUS I’ve got to master the words to Reach for the Stars! It’s a complete nightmare. I’m SO not co-ordinated. I must have tripped over my own feet five times.

  Oops, listen to me wittering! Now you’re terrified I’m going to make you watch us do our horrible impression of S Club 7. But don’t panic! That is NOT why I asked you over, cross my heart and spit.

  But I’d better warn you. By the time I’ve finished recounting our latest sleepover, you’re probably going to have to sleep with the light on. We’ve got a genuinely spine-chilling experience in store for you this time. So let’s make sure the front and back doors are securely locked and bolted! Then prepare to be shocked and scandalised. Because every word I’m going to tell you is totally TOTALLY true.

  It was a sunny day in spring. Outside the school dinner hall, birds zoomed to and fro and the school flowerbeds had cute little primulas and whatever poking up out of the dirt. Lyndz had just shared out those little sugarcoated mini-eggs that look like tiny, speckled bird’s eggs. “I thought it would put everyone in a holiday mood,” she grinned.

  We’d managed to get a whole dinner table to ourselves. Alana Banana and Regina Hill hovered hopefully for a few seconds but Kenny gave them one of her stares and they quickly took the hint.

  In four days’ time we were going on the ultimate class trip – to have what Mrs Weaver described as a “safari experience”. We’d all heard of Gawdy Castle Safari Park, but none of us had actually been, and we were getting totally overexcited.

  “I can’t wait,” said Kenny. “Lions in the wild. Raaargh!!” She hooked her fingers into claws and waved them menacingly in Lyndz’s face.

  “This is going to be so amazing,” I said. “Isn’t it, Rosie?”

  “From what I heard yesterday, Gawdy Castle might be a bit TOO amazing!” Frankie had that annoying little smirk on her face that means she’s got secret inside info. “I’ve been talking to this kid whose sister went years ago. Boy, you should have heard what she told me.”

  I was suddenly completely distracted. “Not again! I’ve broken another nail!” I screeched. I couldn’t believe my bad luck. I’d been trying to grow all my nails to the same length for weeks. Now the most exciting adventure of our lives was looming and I’d gone and ruined my Pink Passion nail-polished fingernail.

  “Don’t be such a bimbo, Fliss!”

  I DO wish Frankie would learn not to talk with her mouth full. Gloopy egg sandwich suddenly went splattering everywhere, and poor ol’ Kenny was right in the line of fire.

  “Urgh, Frankie! That was so gross!” She frantically brushed yellow and white gunk off her t-shirt.

  I helped Kenz mop herself up. Ever since the twins were born, I make sure I carry travel wipes in my bag, so I’m prepared for spills and dribbles of all kinds. Joe and Hannah could totally dribble for England!

  Frankie joined in the mopping operation. “Sorry, Kenz,” she said, “but Fliss has been banging on about her silly nails all term. We’re going to Gawdy Castle in four days and there’s something you guys really ought to know.”

  Mum reckons the other girls will catch up and learn to love lip-gloss and nail polish as much as I do. I hope she’s right. Sometimes I think my mates see me as a to
tal fluff brain. As for Frankie, she’s always saying I shouldn’t worry about shallow girly stuff like getting my appliquéd butterfly jeans dirty. She says it ruins everyone’s fun.

  I hate to think I might be the Sleepover Club party pooper, so right there in the dinner hall, I made a secret pact with myself that I would NOT be ruining our thrilling, end of term trip.

  “Sorry, Frankie,” I said humbly. “Tell us your story.”

  Frankie plans to be an actress when she grows up and she just LURVES to be the centre of attention. She took a long, very noisy sip of Snapple, to make sure everyone was watching. Then she made us all huddle closer.

  “This story is going to give you terminal goose bumps,” she promised. “I heard it from a girl who made me swear not to tell anyone. She said the authorities didn’t want it to get out.”

  “But it’s all right to tell us?” I said anxiously.

  “Of course, you’re my mates,” said Frankie. “And I’m going to tell it exactly how she told it to me.”

  Kenny’s eyes gleamed and Lyndz’s looked as if they were going to pop right out of her head. I gulped. Frankie’s the best teller of scary tales I know. Outside, a cloud had gone across the sun, and the hall suddenly became full of eerie, flitting shadows.

  “It happened at Gawdy Castle exactly three years ago,” Frankie began. “In fact, by a very weird coincidence, it happened three years to the day this Friday!”

  Lyndz drew in her breath. “That’s the day we’re going!”

  “I know. That’s why we’d better all be careful, because the terrible events I’m about to describe could well happen to any one of us.”

  Frankie was really enjoying putting the frighteners on us, but we were all loving it. “Not one word of what I am going to tell you can go outside this group,” she said commandingly. “Do you swear?”

  I heard Kenny mutter, “Get on with it, Spaceman.” But the rest of us just nodded frantically.

  “Then I’ll begin,” said Frankie in her special storytelling voice. “It was the day of the school safari trip and the weatherman had forecast storms. The skies were darkening as the school coach drove through the gates of Gawdy Castle. But no one wanted to miss out on seeing the animals, so the castle rangers decided to risk taking the children out in the Landrovers. They thought the storm would hold off.”

  “But it didn’t,” whispered Lyndz.

  “No, it didn’t. It began thundering and lightning like the end of the world. Soon rain was coming down so heavily it was impossible to see out of the windscreen. The rangers cut the tour short and told the children and teachers to shelter in the old castle. Now there was one boy, whose name was Peter Harris…”

  “I’ve heard of him,” said Kenny.

  “Can I PLEASE tell my story without anyone interrupting?”

  We all tried not to giggle at Frankie’s impression of Mrs Weaver.

  “Well, anyway, Peter soon got bored with looking at pictures of dead dukes and duchesses. And though the suits of armour were quite interesting, what he really wanted to see were the medieval torture chambers in the dungeons.”

  “Dun dun du-un!” interrupted a sarky voice.

  Emma Hughes was smiling down at us. I say “smile”. It was more like the lipless grin you see on mummies.

  “Bug off, Emma,” said Frankie.

  “Oh, I’m SO sorry,” said Emma in a scornful voice. “Was I interrupting your little story-telling session, Frankie? Why don’t I finish it for you? Let me see. Oh, yes.” Emma put on a fake scary voice. “Peter goes down into the dungeon where the ghost of a tortured prisoner jumps out at him, going ‘Whooo!’, and drags poor little Peter right inside the wall. When he fails to return to the minibus, the teachers and other kids search the castle for him. They search for over an hour. They’ve almost given up when Peter suddenly reappears in the main hall. But he’s not the same normal, happy boy who left home that morning. His hair and eyebrows have turned snow white and he can’t talk. He can only mumble like a great big baby…” Emma’s voice had dropped to a whisper.

  “That’s horrible,” said Lyndz in a trembly voice.

  Emma gave a spiteful laugh. “And not one word of it is true! My brother played football with Peter Harris only the other day. That stupid ghost story’s been going round for years. I can’t believe Frankie swallowed it!”

  It took the combined strength of the rest of the Sleepover Club to stop an enraged Frankie throwing herself at Emma.

  “Where’s the other Queen of Darkness today?” panted Kenny, still hanging on to a furious Frankie.

  “Yeah, you want to be careful,” said Lyndz. “If I was you, I wouldn’t want to get Frankie angry without my evil twin for back-up.”

  As everybody in the village knows, Emma Hughes and Emily Berryman, aka the M&Ms, are our deadly enemies. This was one of the few times I’d ever seen one without the other. Without her snooty bodyguard, Emma looked strangely incomplete.

  “If you must know,” she said stiffly, “Emily’s caught—” She glanced around to make sure no one was listening and dropped her voice, “—erm, nits.”

  Kenz totally cracked up. “Oh, that’s made my day! Emily Berryman’s got head lice!! Can’t you just imagine her scratching herself like a monkey!”

  “My sympathy’s with the nits personally,” Frankie growled, still trying to wriggle free.

  “Aren’t you scared you’ll catch them, Emma?” said Lyndz wickedly. “You’ve always got your heads together plotting some little scheme. Her evil creepy-crawlies wouldn’t have far to jump.”

  Kenny gave a fake gasp. “Yikes, Emma!! I just saw something crawl into your hair! Dad says nits LURVE clean, blonde hair. He says that’s like head lice heaven to them.”

  Kenny’s dad is a doctor. Kenz says this is why she revels in blood and gore and all things icky. We don’t totally buy this. We just think she’s bizarre!

  Emma was furious with Kenny. “You don’t think I’d fall for that old trick, do you?” she spat. She stuck her nose in the air, obviously meaning to flounce away.

  At that moment we all noticed the pretty blonde girl standing behind her.

  “Hi, Emma, they said I’d find you in here!” she beamed. “Your mum fixed everything. Mrs Poole says I can come into school with you any time I’m at a loose end.”

  It was blatantly obvious Emma hadn’t expected to see her friend in the dinner hall. “Oh, that’s erm, super!” she gushed. “Why don’t I show you round the school?” And she practically dragged the mystery girl towards the door.

  “That’s them, isn’t it?” I heard the girl say excitedly. “They’re just like you described, Emma! But it sounded like you were having an argument.”

  She’s Australian, I thought. The new girl had exactly the same accent as Brad Martin, our favourite Aussie soap star.

  I saw panic flicker over Emma’s face. She gave a nervous giggle. “Oh, we’re always kidding around like that. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  I thought I must have misheard. It was quite possible. By this time Frankie had worked herself into a major razz.

  “…plus I hope that hideous ghost drags her into a wall and they never EVER find her body!” she finished up breathlessly.

  I was horrified. “Frankie, don’t say that! Suppose Emma got ghost-napped for real. How would you feel then?”

  “I’d think she deserves all she gets,” Frankie said spitefully.

  “Yeah, if the ghost wants her, let it have her,” said Kenz.

  “I agree,” said Lyndz. “What do you reckon, Rosie-posie?”

  Rosie jumped. “Oh, sorry, I was miles away.”

  “Must have been somewhere depressing,” said Kenz cheerfully. “You looked gutted just then.”

  Rosie looked anxious. “I didn’t, did I? Well, I’m fine, honestly.”

  She wasn’t but we didn’t find that out till later.

  Frankie spent the rest of the afternoon dreaming up ways for us to avenge ourselves on Emma Hughes. By home time,
she’d narrowed it down to three personal faves.

  1. Pouring cold baked beans over Emma’s head.

  2. Smuggling fresh droppings from the school rabbit into her lunch box.

  3. Stuffing old, v. smelly cream cheese in our enemy’s P.E. shoes.

  “I vote for the beans,” giggled Lyndz.

  Kenny shook her head. “Uh-uh. Rabbit droppings have better shock-value.”

  “Yeah,” said Frankie. “Plus Emma’s shoes are bound to be naturally cheesy anyway!”

  Everyone fell about. Everyone but Rosie, that is.

  I couldn’t help noticing that our mate didn’t join in Frankie’s scheming. She’d been quiet all day. Any time we asked what was wrong, she said she had a headache.

  This is typical Rosie. She keeps her worries so bottled up, Kenny says it’s a wonder steam doesn’t spurt from her ears. She’s heaps more chilled than she was when she first moved to Cuddington though. It used to take weeks before she’d admit anything was bothering her. Now it’s days at most. Though even now, she tends to withdraw inside herself at the first sign of trouble.

  I couldn’t help feeling tense as we walked home. Mum says I have to learn not to be so sensitive. But I can’t bear those jangly vibes when people are upset, can you? Suddenly I noticed something totally unbelievable. Emma and her new friend were following us.

  The others noticed it at exactly the same moment.

  Emma was obviously desperate for us not to notice her. Each time one of us looked back, she bent down and pretended to tie her shoelace, which has to be the most pathetic ruse ever. (Kenny reckoned she must have seen it on an old 1970s cop show!) Emma’s friend was obviously wondering what on earth was going on.

  “I’ve had enough of this,” growled Frankie. “No one spies on the Sleepover Club and gets away with it.”

  “Spying?” I said in surprise. “Why would Emma spy on us?”

  “Because she’s gone over to the dark side, dummy,” said Frankie. She blocked the pavement, very obviously waiting for the two girls to catch us up. “What’s going on?” she called to them in an aggressive voice. “You’ve been sticking to us like fly paper all day.”

  Emma went bright red, but to my astonishment, the new girl beamed at Frankie and stuck out her hand. “Hi, you must be Frankie!” she said in a genuinely friendly voice. “I can tell from your gorgeous curly hair. Emma’s told me all about you guys. I’m Kirstin.”