Sleepover Girls on Safari Page 5

  We rolled our eyes at each other. Why are grown-ups so embarrassing? And how come they never know when they’re in the way?”

  Going downhill in a Landrover is even more uncomfortable than going up. Every time we went over a bump, our heads literally whacked the roof!

  “Yikes!” Rosie squeaked suddenly.

  “Did you hurt your head?” I said sympathetically.

  She was pink with excitement. “No, I just saw a lion!”

  The Landrover braked just in time for us to see the huge lion stroll past, barely a few metres from our window. Its shaggy gold mane was so long, it trailed in the dirt, like a rather bedraggled royal train. The lion seemed used to tourists. It just gave a bored yawn in our direction, exposing a mouth full of white, needle-sharp teeth.

  Frankie gulped. “That’s one kittykat I wouldn’t want to play with.”

  “What a magnificent beast!” Emma said in her prissy voice.

  Kenny nudged Frankie. “I thought you were going to fall off your bones if you saw a lion?”

  “I’ll make you fall off yours in a minute,” Frankie told her.

  Eventually the lion loped away and the Landrover continued chugging down the track. Five minutes later, the ranger stopped again, this time to let us watch some monkeys playing chase in the trees.

  Monkeys are SO nosy. The instant they saw us they came swinging down from the branches, chattering to each other in shrill, annoyed-sounding voices. They landed on the top of the Landrover and peered in at the windows. One immediately started trying to remove the windscreen wipers. Another one chittered angrily at itself in one of the wing mirrors.

  “Ugh, do they have to show us their rude red bottoms,” complained Frankie.

  Actually the baby monkeys really reminded me of my little brother. Not the rude bottoms, I don’t mean, but their expressions. They gazed in at us, looking so round-eyed and innocent, they almost made me want to cry. “I think they’re super sweet,” I said.

  “Me too,” Kirstin smiled. “Actually my aunt keeps spider monkeys.”

  “What monkeys?” Lyndz asked, instantly intrigued.

  “Spider monkeys are very tiny, the size of a small doll.”

  “I wonder if Dad would let me have a monkey,” mused Lyndz.

  “Don’t take your eyes off her,” I told Kirstin, “or that girl will have a baby monkey zipped inside her hoodie before you know it.”

  “Is that what happened with the pig?” giggled Kirstin.

  “Don’t ask,” I joked. “I’ve only just stopped having nightmares.”

  The monkeys had got bored with trying to steal the windscreen wipers. They crouched on the bonnet of the Landrover and started to style each other’s hair. Well, that’s what I thought they were doing until our ranger explained they were picking lice out of each other’s coats.

  “But they’re eating them,” I protested.

  “Lice are very nutritious!” he grinned.

  “Too much information,” Lyndz said faintly.

  Emma gave a prissy giggle. “I must say, I’d really hate to have to eat my own head lice!”

  Kenny’s eyes gleamed. “Whose would you prefer? Emily’s?”

  Emma went red. “I’m not going to answer that remark, Laura,” she said snootily.

  “Ooh, look! That monkey with the big bottom looks exactly like Emily!” Frankie taunted.

  “Not that we’ve ever seen Emily’s bottom,” Kenz sniggered.

  I felt a sudden longing to be under the shower, soaping my hair with bubble-gum scented shampoo. Just the thought of lice made my scalp itch like crazy.

  Mrs Weaver seemed oddly relieved when the monkeys swung off into the trees at last. “That was fascinating,” she said brightly. “But I didn’t expect them to come quite so close.”

  We all exchanged meaningful glances.

  Kenny made daring clucking noises under her breath.

  Kirstin spluttered with giggles. “You guys are crazy.”

  After that we drove for ages without seeing anything interesting.

  “I want to see a tiger,” moaned Frankie.

  “I can’t see any tigers, but I can spy something black and white that looks amazingly like a horse,” Kirstin told her.

  “A zebra!” Lyndz shrieked. “My all-time favourite animal.”

  The zebras looked smaller in real life than they seem on nature programmes. They were more like cute little stripy ponies than horses. The design on their coats was so gorgeous that I couldn’t help imagining it on a t-shirt.

  “They’re so gentle,” I said to Kirstin.

  “The last time I saw a zebra, it was busy being lunch for a pack of lions,” she commented.

  Rosie looked horrified. “How awful.”

  Kenny’s eyes gleamed. “It’s not awful, it’s natural.”

  “Then I don’t think I like Nature,” Rosie whispered.

  A few minutes later the ranger suddenly killed the engine. “Try to keep your voices down,” he whispered, “or we’ll scare her off.”

  A family of tigers was sunbathing under some oak trees.

  The mother tiger’s orange and black stripes looked incredibly exotic in the spring landscape. She was washing one of her fuzzy little cubs. I saw how her slightest movement rippled the powerful muscles under her coat. The tiger might look peaceful now, but you could feel this electrifying wildness underneath. Everyone was in total awe.

  “Is this a dream?” I whispered.

  Mrs Weaver shook her head. “If it is, we’re having the same one.”

  “Now I can die happy,” breathed Frankie.

  “Me too,” said Kirstin softly.

  Emma looked astonished. “Haven’t you seen a tiger before?”

  Kirstin shook her head. “Never. You don’t get them in Africa. Actually I think tigers are from India.”

  Emma went slightly pink. I sniggered to myself. Obviously I wasn’t the only ten year old who didn’t know where tigers came from!

  “I’ve never seen one either,” she confessed to Kirstin. “And we come here loads.”

  The ranger smiled. “Then this must be your lucky day.”

  You know how cats like to find a patch of sun and chill? Well that’s what this very big cat was doing. Her funny little tiger babies were tumbling around her, staging play fights and licking each other’s ears.

  “They might be killers,” Rosie whispered. “But they’re the most beautiful creatures on earth.”

  “I know,” I whispered back. “I’m in love.”

  Our thrilling safari experience came to an end at last and we all clambered out of the Landrover. My bottom was so numb I could hardly stand. Everyone had major pins and needles.

  “That was SO perfect!” I said to Rosie happily.

  “I can’t believe how sweet Emma’s being,” she said in a low voice. “You can see she’s desperate for Kirstin to have a good time.”

  “Yeah,” said Lyndz. “It’s like we’re seeing a totally new side of her.”

  Frankie gave her a withering look. “You’re such suckers,” she said. “Emma’s acting, stoopid, just like us. Isn’t she, Kenz?”

  Kenny wasn’t listening. She was still clowning around, pretending her numb legs wouldn’t hold her up. Suddenly she tripped and fell over for real. “Ow!!” she yelped. “I landed on a stupid stone.”

  “Lucky it was your bum,” Frankie told her. “It’s the fattest part!”

  Kenny picked herself up. “Come here and say that!” she threatened.

  Suddenly we were all having a mad Keystone Cops moment, as everyone helped Kenny chase Frankie madly around the grounds, even Emma and Kirstin. Kirstin couldn’t run properly because she was laughing so much.

  At the last minute, Emma dived on Frankie and brought her to the ground. “Gotcha!” she giggled. “I’ve ALWAYS wanted to do that!”

  I suppose she was still overexcited from seeing the tiger. Or maybe she was a better actress than I’d realised. But just at that moment she looked, well, n
ormal.

  Frankie quickly wriggled free. “Have you really, Emma?” she said coldly. “Well, you got that one for free. The next one you’ll pay for.”

  Emma’s expression changed. “Is that right?” she said ominously. She scrambled to her feet. Frankie jumped up, dusting off her trousers. Frankie and Emma began to circle each other menacingly, like flamenco dancers.

  “I knew you couldn’t keep up your sugar and spice act, Emma Hughes,” Frankie spat. “Now your true colours are showing.”

  Kirstin looked puzzled. “What’s Frankie talking about?”

  Rosie gave a nervous giggle. “Don’t ask us. We’re Frankie’s friends and we don’t understand her half the time, do we, Flissie?”

  This is terrible! I thought. They’re really going to fight!!

  Any minute now they’d be scrapping like wild cats and Operation Pretend Friend would be ruined. I had to do something. Something so bizarre and shocking that Emma and Frankie would temporarily forget about their feud. And then I knew!

  “OH! OH! IT’S HORRIBLE!!” I shrieked at the top of my lungs. “OMIGOSH, FRANKIE! YOU WERE RIGHT!”

  Frankie froze as she was just about to grab Emma’s ponytail.

  “What are you on about?” she said nervously.

  “I saw it,” I invented wildly. “Up there on the turrets! It was horrible!”

  “What are you talking about?” Emma gasped.

  “The ghost,” I lied. “I saw the ghost of Gawdy Castle!”

  Ten minutes later the whole class was in the castle grounds, happily tucking into barbecued burgers and bangers.

  After a private chat with Mrs Weaver, I’d sheepishly explained that I probably hadn’t seen a ghost at all. It was just a trick of the light. The boys were already calling me Casper.

  Lyndz was the only person who’d sussed what I was up to.

  “That was brilliant, Flissie. Frankie almost blew the whole thing,” she whispered. “You do know everyone’s going to think you’re loopy?”

  “It was worth it,” I grinned. “Operation You Know What is back on track.”

  “Ssh,” hissed Lyndz. “Kirstin’s coming over.”

  Kirstin’s plate was heaped with food. “These are great snags,” she mumbled through a mouthful of sausage. “How are you feeling now, Fliss?”

  “Better,” I said bravely. “You must think I’m a real wally.”

  “Not at all. I’d have screamed blue murder if I’d seen a ghost.”

  Frankie finished off her second veggie burger. “She didn’t really see one,” she sniggered. “She saw a shadow and freaked.”

  “I got confused,” I said defensively. “It could happen to anyone.”

  “Not me,” declared Frankie. “I have nerves of steel!”

  “This barbecue is the best,” Lyndz said tactfully. “I just lurve eating outdoors, don’t you, Emma?”

  Emma flicked a beetle away from her sausages. “I suppose. It’s not very hygienic.”

  “It’s not very hygienic,” Frankie mimicked.

  Lyndz hastily talked over her. “What do you think of the food, Kirstin?”

  “It’s good,” she grinned. “Safaris tend to make you hungry.”

  “What things do you barbecue in Australia? Apart from ‘snags’?” Kenny asked her.

  Kirstin pulled a face. “Australians will barbecue anything: emu, crocodiles, kangaroo.”

  “Kangaroo? You’re kidding,” said Lyndz in horror.

  “Have you tried any of those witchetty grubs?” Kenny asked.

  “No, I generally stick to the steak,” Kirstin laughed.

  Mrs Weaver was clapping her hands again.

  “We’re going around the exotic farm next,” Rosie said.

  “Whoopdee-do,” sighed Kenny. “Like we’ve never seen a farm.”

  Kirstin gave Lyndz a sly look. “It says in the book they’ve got Vietnamese pot-bellied pigs. Lyndz should definitely take a look at those!”

  Lyndz shook her head. “Nothing can top that amazing tiger. As far as I’m concerned we can go home.”

  We knew what she meant. The farm was actually quite cool. The Vietnamese pot-bellied pigs were surprisingly cute and the llamas were hilarious. (They were also VERY whiffy.) But I wished we could have seen them before we had our safari. Our hearts weren’t in it somehow.

  Lyndz is right, I thought. Nothing’s going to come near that tiger.

  Kenz was bored. She peered over a low enclosure and a bunch of equally bored-looking peacocks looked back. I vaguely heard Kenz say, “Yo! Peacocks! Can’t you do something interesting?”

  I wasn’t really paying much attention. The fresh air had given me dry lips and I was rubbing on my strawberry lip balm. So I can’t actually tell you why that peacock took such a dislike to Kenny. To this day she swears that all she did was say “Yo!”

  When I told Andy later, he said, “Was Kenny wearing her Leicester City sweatshirt?” I nodded. “There you go. Mystery solved,” he teased. “The peacock must have supported Nottingham Forest!”

  Whatever the reason, the peacock launched itself over the wall at Kenny in a fury, rattling its quills like castanets, making hideous screeching noises and trying to peck her in some really personal places. Obviously Kenny didn’t want to be pecked to death so she just took off.

  Peacocks run a lot faster than you think. This one gave the impression of moving on greased roller skates. And I don’t know if you’ve ever had a good look at a peacock’s beak, but it’s vicious!

  Luckily Kenny’s football skills came in handy as she ran around the farmyard, darting this way and that, desperately trying to keep out of the peacock’s way.

  Honestly it was the maddest thing I’ve ever seen. We were practically crying with laughter. But the angry peacock showed absolutely no sign of giving up. We started to worry that our mate would get hurt.

  “I’d better get someone,” I said anxiously.

  Kirstin shook her head. “I know what to do!” And she lowered her head like a charging bull and rushed at the peacock, making screamy peacock noises.

  You could see the peacock thinking, “Yikes! Too much competition!” It took off for the barn roof, where it settled out of harm’s way, glaring down at us with mad, glittery eyes, and making screechy sounds. I got the feeling it was saying “nah nah nah nah nah” in peacock language.

  “Thanks, Kirstin,” panted Kenny.

  “No worries,” Kirstin smiled.

  Kirstin’s cap had fallen off while she was running. Danny McCloud handed it back. “That was well impressive.”

  “Yeah, we convicts have our uses,” she told him.

  Unfortunately Mrs Weaver had appeared in the middle of the mayhem. “That bird seems very upset,” she said accusingly. “You weren’t teasing it, were you?”

  “No, Mrs Weaver,” we chorused.

  But our teacher just said, “Hmmn. We’re going to look at the maze now. But I’ll be keeping a close eye on you girls for the rest of the day.”

  “Yes, Mrs Weaver,” we sighed.

  “She can’t keep an eye on us if we’re in the maze,” Frankie grinned.

  I think she was picturing those massive mazes you see in films. The kind where hordes of different characters wander in aimless circles without ever running into each other. But the maze at Gawdy Castle was nothing like that.

  “It’s diddy!” I gasped.

  “The hedges only come up to my knee,” said Kenny in disgust.

  “Where’s the challenge in that?” Frankie agreed.

  “I want you to divide into pairs,” Mrs Weaver was saying. “The first pair to find their way to the centre in the fastest time wins this bag of Celebration chocolates.”

  Kenny’s eyes gleamed. “That’s all the challenge I need!”

  We all queued impatiently for our turn to go into the maze. Frankie paired off with Rosie. I went with Kenz and Emma went in with Kirstin.

  Lyndz said she’d just watch. She had Lyndz-type plans of her own, but we only fou
nd that out later.

  It was really tricky going through that maze. You could see the middle all right, but getting there took longer than you’d think. The twists and turns were so tight, you couldn’t exactly run fast. Plus I felt like a huge giant jogging along those prickly little paths. The boys got fed up with the whole thing. They treated the hedges like hurdles and hopped over, so Mrs Weaver said they were disqualified.

  Emma and Kirstin made the fastest time.

  To our amazement Emma offered the chocolates round.

  “I couldn’t. They’re yours!” said Frankie stiffly. I knew how she felt. It did seem unnatural to be taking sweets from our old enemy.

  “Take two!” said Kirstin. “They’re not ours, dummy, they’re the Sleepover Club’s.”

  Frankie still hesitated.

  “I didn’t poison them, Francesca,” Emma snapped.

  “Wouldn’t put it past you,” Frankie muttered.

  Lyndz interrupted what could have been a nasty incident. She came hurtling through the grounds, yelling excitedly. “Mrs Weaver, I found where they put that baby elephant and its mum!” she yelled. “Can I take my mates to say hello?”

  “Certainly not, Lindsay. We have a packed schedule as you know,” Mrs Weaver protested. “There’s still the castle to see. Besides after that incident with the peacock—”

  To everyone’s amazement Emma interrupted. “Please, Mrs Weaver, that wasn’t Kenny’s fault. The peacock attacked her. All Kenny did was run away. And we’d only be five minutes, wouldn’t we?” she asked us.

  Teachers treat you quite differently if you’re their pet, don’t they?

  Mrs Weaver instantly changed her tune. “All right, Emma dear. But do be quick. The rest of us will make our way to the castle.”

  I heard mutterings from the other kids. They wanted to see the elephants too. You could see that Frankie totally didn’t want any favours from Emma, but she was also dying to see the baby elephant again, so she had to go along with it.

  The mother and baby were in a quiet out-building in near darkness. It felt really peaceful in there. The ranger in the body warmer was chatting to the mother, and feeding her bananas. She took them in her trunk really carefully and popped them whole into her mouth.

  “I see you’ve brought your mates,” he said to Lyndz.