Sleepover Girls on the Range (3 page)

“You mean, you want us to sleep where Alfie sleeps?” asked Rosie incredulously. “What if he tramples us or something?”

“And wouldn’t it be a bit, you know, stinky?” sniffed Frankie. “You know what a mess it is when you’re mucking out.”

I started to laugh.

“De-err!” I put my finger to my head. “We’d be sleeping in an empty
barn,
dumbos, not a
stable!
We’d probably give Alfie nightmares if we pitched down our sleeping bags with him!”

“Well, it sounds brill to me!” Kenny suddenly leapt up and flicked the brim of her cowboy hat with her finger. Then she put on a terrible American accent. “There’ll be a wild time in that ol’ barn when the Sleepover Club move into town. Yes siree!”

“I’m still not sure,” Fliss mumbled. “It’ll be kind of spooky in a barn at night, won’t it?”

“Mrs McAllister does have lights in there, you know,” I explained. “She’s had a full security system fitted too, and her house is right next door to the barn anyway. Come on Fliss, it’ll be as safe as anything. What do the rest of you think?”

“I think it’s a brilliant idea. Count me in!” Kenny came to stand next to me. “What about you, Frankie? You’re not wimping out as well, are you?”

“Nope.” Frankie stood up and came over
to join us. “As long as the horses aren’t sleeping over with us, you can count me in too!”

“And me!” Rosie leapt up. “It’ll be great, really different. It’s a brilliant idea, Lyndz!”

Phew
– that was a relief!

“Well Fliss, are you in or out? Because you’re definitely outvoted, four to one,” Kenny told her firmly. “So we’ll be having this sleepover whether you’re there or not!”

Now as you probably know, Fliss hates being left out more than anything else in the world. She reluctantly got to her feet.

“OK, I’m in,” she agreed. “But I’m not really happy about it.”

“Nice one, Fliss!”

We grabbed each other in a circle and started to dance round, faster and faster. By the time we’d collapsed in a heap on the grass, even Fliss was smiling again!

“So,” panted Frankie as we were all getting our breath back. “What did Mrs McAllister say when you suggested your great plan to her?”

“Well,” I admitted slowly. “I haven’t
actually mentioned it to her yet. I wanted to clear it with you lot first.”

“Oh?” The others looked at me wide-eyed. Fliss began to smile.

“Well, I guess we’d better see what she has to say before we get so carried away,” she grinned. “Hadn’t we?”

She was right of course. So we all agreed to meet down at the horses’ temporary home, Mr Brocklehurst’s farm, after school the following afternoon.

Now to be honest with you, I’d never given Mrs McAllister’s reaction a second thought. She’d said she wanted to give us a treat, hadn’t she? And it wasn’t as if I was asking for the Crown Jewels or anything. But as my friends’ reaction to the sleepover hadn’t exactly been what I’d expected, by the time we met up at the farm the next day I was a bag of nerves.

“Perhaps you’re right, Fliss,” I told her when we were all together. “Maybe this sleepover idea isn’t such a good one.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s brilliant!” Kenny reassured me. “It’s going to be mega! Hi
there, Mrs McAllister!”

She waved across the field. Mrs McAllister was coming towards us, leading Bramble.

“I…I’ll just wait over there,” stammered Fliss when she caught sight of the horse. Fliss has been down there loads of times since the Stable Fun Day, but she still gets all twitchy whenever she gets too close to one of the horses.

“Don’t be silly Fliss, you’re staying right here!” Kenny grabbed her by the elbow and held on to her.

“Well, it’s nice to see you. Have you come to help out?” Mrs McAllister asked pleasantly enough. But I could tell that she wasn’t quite herself.

“Well, erm …” I mumbled.

“Lyndz was telling us about the stable block being almost finished and about your plans for the Open Day,” Frankie explained.

“Oh yes?” Mrs McAllister didn’t sound too enthusiastic.

Frankie started to speak again, but was drowned out by the crunch of gravel as a car drove through the gate. Bramble strained a
little at the sound and tossed his head, making Mrs McAllister work to control him. Fliss looked terrified, as though Bramble was going to break free and trample her. I turned to see who had arrived, but the car must have driven behind one of the outbuildings.

“What was that you were saying?” Mrs McAllister asked when she’d calmed Bramble down.

“I was just saying what a wonderful opportunity the Open Day will be to show everyone what a fun place your stables are,” Frankie continued confidently. “And if you have a Wild West theme or something, people can dress up and really feel part of it.”

“Maybe you could have a fancy-dress competition,” Fliss smiled.

“Well, I don’t know …” Mrs McAllister sounded doubtful.

“And you can maybe have line-dancing,” continued Rosie.

“And food cooked round a campfire,” I chipped in, forgetting that we hadn’t come to talk about the Open Day at all.

“And what about a lassoing competition?”
suggested Kenny. “Like they do on those cowboy films. I bet that’s cool!”

We all nodded.

“That’s a great idea!” I told her. “You didn’t mention that yesterday.”

“I’ve only just thought of it,” Kenny told me proudly.

Mrs McAllister looked kind of annoyed.

“Oh, so you have discussed this already, have you?” she asked sharply.

I was kind of taken aback by her tone. And so were the others, because they all started to look very uncomfortable.

“Look girls, it’s really kind of you to come up with all these suggestions.” Mrs McAllister’s voice softened a little. “But as I told Lyndsey the other day, this Open Day isn’t going to be that kind of occasion. I’m going to show people round the new stable block, and maybe organise a pony trek to whet people’s appetites. Business has been really bad and I need to build it up again – fast. All your ideas would cost money, and that’s something that I just don’t have to spare at the moment. My bank manager told
me that in no uncertain terms the other day. I don’t think he’d be very impressed if he thought I was going to lavish money on some big promotional extravaganza. I really am very sorry.”

She turned and walked Bramble back down the field.

“Well, so much for that, then,” sighed Frankie. “And we didn’t even get to ask her about the sleepover.”

“What sleepover?” asked a voice.

We spun round to see who it was. Behind us was standing this tiny woman with pretty coffee-coloured skin and the most fabulous straight black hair which hung down to her waist like a waterfall.

“Hello, I’m Sita Chandri,” she said, holding out a petite hand. “I’ve just popped over to show Margaret – Mrs McAllister – some paperwork.” She was holding a bundle of papers between her slim fingers, which had the most perfectly shaped, red painted nails you’ve ever seen.

We were all kind of awestruck and nobody knew what to say.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I couldn’t help overhearing your plans for the Open Day,” she continued, smiling. “I think that is exactly what the stables needs. It will be lively and fun and will appeal to everybody. I’m sure it will bring in lots of business too.”

“I don’t think Mrs McAllister was too enthusiastic, though,” Kenny said sadly.

“I think Margaret is just a little cautious,” Mrs Chandri told us. “I think her idea of a pony trek is a good one too. Let me just go and talk to her. I’ll be back in a minute.”

She climbed nimbly over the fence and ran down the field towards Mrs McAllister, her hair flowing behind her.

“Did you see those nails?” Rosie exclaimed excitedly.

“And did you see what kind of jeans she was wearing?” marvelled Fliss. “Those cost an absolute fortune! She must be
rolling
in money!”

“Mum said that she built her Spice Company up from nothing,” Frankie told us. “And now she’s one of the wealthiest women in Britain.”

“Crikey!”

We all looked to where she was talking to Mrs McAllister. Mrs Chandri was waving her arms about enthusiastically, but Mrs McAllister had her back to us so it was hard to see her reaction.

“I don’t think anything will budge Mrs McAllister,” Fliss predicted.

Mrs McAllister and Sita Chandri slowly started walking towards us across the field. I hardly dared breathe.

“Well, we’ve got good news,” Mrs Chandri smiled when she reached us. “Margaret has agreed that your ideas for the Open Day are bound to increase interest in her stables. I’ve agreed to go over the financial side of things and make sure that enough money is raised to cover expenditure—”

“So the Open Day is on, then?” asked Kenny.

“It most certainly is –
if,
and this is a
big
if …” Mrs Chandri suddenly looked seriously at us. “If… you girls are prepared to help to organise it. Margaret and I will help too, of course, but we can’t do everything. I know it
will be tough with your schoolwork, so I would rather you spoke up now if you think it’s going to be too much for you.”

We all looked at each other.

“It’ll be great!”

“We can do it!”

“We’re kind of used to organising things now!”

Mrs Chandri smiled.

“Well I’m very pleased to hear it. Now, what was that you mentioned earlier? Something about a sleepover, wasn’t it?”

Crazy though it sounds, I’d almost forgotten about that.

“Well last time… here… treat …” I just couldn’t get my words out. I took a deep breath.

“That is, Mrs McAllister said that she wanted to give us a treat for helping with the fundraising for the stables. And we’ve thought about it, and what we’d really,
really
like is a sleepover in the barn. If that’s all right.”

Fliss snorted, but the others were silent like me. We were all holding our breath,
waiting anxiously to see what Mrs McAllister’s reaction was.

“Hmm, I hadn’t expected that, I must admit,” she said at last. “What do you think?” She turned to Mrs Chandri.

Smiling, Mrs Chandri said, “Well, you know I always believe in incentives and rewards for good work. If you really want this sleepover, then it will be a good incentive for you to work really hard to organise the Open Day. And it will also be a good reward for you to enjoy when it is finished.”

“So that’s a yes?” I asked excitedly.

“That’s down to Margaret.” Mrs Chandri looked over to Mrs McAllister.

“OK then, you can have your sleepover,” said Mrs McAllister. “As long as I don’t have any disasters to contend with during the Open Day. No runaway horses, OK?!”

“OK!” we all agreed.

When Mrs McAllister and Mrs Chandri had left us and were walking back down the field, we started squealing and hugging each other. Fliss wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as the rest of us, but at least she joined in.

It did cross my mind then that something
always
goes wrong whenever we organise anything. And something told me that this time would be no exception…

Whenever the Sleepover Club is involved in organising anything, we usually take it at a leisurely pace. We munch a few choccy biccies, slurp some Coca-Cola and come up with some crazy suggestions.
Then
we get serious. Not this time. No siree! This time we had Mrs Chandri to reckon with. She was like a mega-planning whirlwind and there was no stopping her. The next day she got us all squashed into Mrs McAllister’s office, put a pad on her knee, took a pen in her hand, and she was off.

“How does Saturday 28th sound for the Open Day?” she asked, casting her eye over a calendar.

Not waiting for a reply she continued:

“That gives us plenty of time to get everything organised. Can you girls do the posters? But check everything out first. The fancy-dress idea is good, but how would a lassoing competition work? And where will you get your line-dance caller? Details, details. Check it out. And the food. Do you know anyone who can cook the food round the fire? It’s a nice idea, but it might just be easier to hire a burger van.”

The woman never seemed to draw breath. We just stared at her with our mouths open.

“Right, that gives you plenty to think about, doesn’t it?” She snapped the top on her pen and smiled at us. “Don’t look so worried, you’ll be fine. You can ring me up if you run into any problems – here’s my number.”

She scribbled a number on a piece of paper and handed it over to Kenny.

“No pressure, but I could do with the
poster as soon as possible,” she smiled at us again. “If it’s OK, I’ll have copies printed off and we can put them up. Right then, see you soon!”

She got up and showed us out of the office.
Mrs McAllister’s
office. I looked round at Mrs McAllister, who just smiled sympathetically.

“Crikey, talk about slave-driver!” shrieked Kenny as we walked towards the gate. “Check this, sort out that! What does she think we are?”

“Blimmin’ robots, that’s what,” sighed Rosie. “And overworked ones at that!”

“I guess she’s only making sure that nothing goes wrong,” said Fliss quietly.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I admitted. “We have got into a few messes in the past when we’ve tried to organise stuff, haven’t we?”