Vive le Sleepover Club!
Read Vive le Sleepover Club! Online
Authors: Narinder Dhami
Salut tout le monde! Je m’appelle Rosie, et j’ai une super histoire à vous raconter sur les vacances du Sleepover Club à Paris!
No, don’t get your knickers in a twist – you haven’t picked up the wrong book! The Sleepover Club have kind of gone all French, because last half-term we went on a school trip to Paris. We had a really cool time, but as you can probably guess by now, things didn’t go all that smoothly. In fact, just about everything that could go wrong did! But I’d better start right at the beginning…
The beginning was at school a few months ago in Cuddington, the village where we all live. The bell had just rung for hometime, and the Sleepover Club were all desperate to get out of school as fast as we could, as usual. You remember the Sleepover Club, don’t you? There’s Frankie, Kenny, Fliss, Lyndz and me (Rosie), and we sleep over at each other’s houses at the weekends.
“What’s up with Weaver?” Kenny said crossly as Mrs Weaver started rooting around in her desk instead of letting us go. “I want to go home!”
Everyone in the class started muttering and moaning, until Mrs Weaver glanced up and fixed everyone with a beady glare. Then we all shut up.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, picking up a pile of papers. “But I have some letters for your parents here.”
“Boring!” Frankie whispered with a huge yawn.
“The school is organising a trip to Paris next half-term for this year group,” Mrs
Weaver went on. “And we need to know how many of you would be interested in going.”
Well,
that
wasn’t boring! We all looked at each other in delight. Our last school trip abroad, to Spain, had been cool – and we were all up for some more!
“Excellent!” Kenny said. “I’m definitely going!”
“Me too!” I put in.
“I’m going to ask my mum and dad if I can go,” Lyndz added.
“I wonder if we get to go to Disneyland Paris?” Frankie asked, looking excited.
“Oh, I’ve been there,” said Fliss. “It’s fab!”
As you can probably guess by now, we were all determined to go! And there was one other special reason why we were looking forward to it. We’ve kind of started having sleepovers in different places whenever we can. We’ve had one in a museum, one when we were camping and one when we went on the last school trip to Spain. Now we had the chance to have a sleepover in France – and none of us was going to miss
that
!
“When are we going to have our French sleepover then?”
Kenny said that in a really loud voice while we were waiting in the school minibus to go through the Channel Tunnel to Paris. Immediately we all started shushing her, and looking round to check where Mrs Weaver was.
“Shut up, Kenny!” hissed Frankie.
“Yeah, shut up, Bigmouth!” Lyndz added.
“If Mrs Weaver hears that, she’ll go ballistic,” Fliss said nervously. “After the school trip to Spain, I bet she watches us all the time.”
“Do you remember when Mrs Weaver caught us right in the middle of the Spanish sleepover?” Kenny grinned. “She looked pretty spooky in her nightie!”
“Ssh!” said Fliss, even though she was giggling as hard as the rest of us. Luckily Mrs Weaver was down at the front of the minibus with Mrs Jackson and Mr Tate, who were the other teachers coming with us. We were near the back of the minibus, although we hadn’t
managed to bag the back seat. Kenny was sitting next to Frankie, Fliss and Lyndz were sitting behind them, and I was behind Fliss and Lyndz.
“We won’t get caught this time,” Frankie said confidently.
“Maybe we’ll all be in the same room,” Lyndz said hopefully. “That’d make it easier.”
“What are we going to do at a French sleepover anyway?” I asked.
“Eat snails!” Kenny suggested with an evil gleam in her eye.
“Urgh! No way!” Fliss turned pale.
“Do you know what ‘snail’ is in French?” Frankie asked, pulling a French phrasebook out of her bag. We all groaned loudly.
“Oh, you’re not going to bore us to death again, are you!” Kenny moaned. When we went to Spain, Frankie took a Spanish dictionary and kept on telling us loads of stupid words.
Frankie flipped through the book, ignoring the lot of us.
“Escargot,”
she said, “That’s French for snail.”
“Well, I’m not eating any
escargots
at our sleepover,” Fliss said firmly.
“We could have French bread and cheese,” Lyndz suggested.
“And onions,” I added.
“Hey, I’ve got a great idea!” Kenny announced. “We can dance the Can-Can!”
“Don’t you have to show your knickers when you do the Can-Can?” Fliss giggled.
“That depends on how high you can kick!” Kenny started humming the Can-Can tune, and kicking up her legs against the seat in front of her. “Da, da, de-de-de-de da, da!”
“Do you mind, Laura McKenzie!” Emma Hughes bounced up out of the seat in front of Kenny, and glared at her. “You’re kicking me!”
“Well, I don’t have a problem with that!” Kenny retorted coolly, and the rest of us fell about.
“Stop it, or we’ll tell Mrs Weaver!” Emily Berryman’s head appeared over the top of the seats too. Yup, the M&Ms were out in force. You’ve got to remember the M&Ms. They’re our biggest enemies in the whole
world! We call them the Queen and the Goblin because Emma’s so snooty, and Emily’s small and weedy with a deep voice. They are both major pains.
Kenny pulled one of her most gruesome faces at the M&Ms, and they both sniffed and turned their backs on us. Then the Queen bent down and pulled her bag from under her seat. Emma had brought about four pieces of luggage with her – and they all matched. Talk about posh!
“Do you want a Twix, Emily?” she asked.
“Pity they had to come with us,” Frankie muttered as Emma opened her bag. “We had a great time in Spain without them!”
“Yeah, it was cool!” I agreed. “What’s French for ‘The M&Ms are a complete pain in the behind’, Frankie?”
Frankie grinned. “I don’t think that’ll be in my phrasebook!”
“I hope we don’t have to go to loads and loads of boring museums in Paris!” Fliss moaned, passing round a bag of fun-size Wispa bars. “You know what teachers are like!”
“I bet there’s lots of interesting things to see, though,” Lyndz said.
“Oh, rats to boring museums!” Kenny bounced up and down in her seat. “I can’t wait to go to Disneyland Paris!”
We all started talking at once then. We were going to be in Paris for four days, and we were spending the very last day at Disneyland. We were all dying to see it, and go on all the best rides.
“Space Mountain is awesome.” Fliss looked a bit superior. She’s been to Disneyland Paris
and
Disneyworld in Florida. She goes on loads of holidays with her mum, her brother Callum and her mum’s boyfriend Andy. “And the parade of Disney characters is really cool too.”
“I want to see Honey, I Shrunk The Audience!” Frankie said. “That’s new, isn’t it?”
Fliss nodded. “That wasn’t there when I went.”
“Can I have a bit of quiet, please?” called Mrs Weaver, who was standing at the front of the minibus and waving her clipboard. We all
shut up reluctantly to listen. We didn’t want to get on the wrong side of Mrs Weaver right from the start!
“Now, we’ll be boarding the train which will take us through the Channel Tunnel in about ten minutes,” Mrs Weaver went on. “Before we do, I’ve got something very important to say to you all.”
“Oh, here it comes!” Kenny groaned, “The Big Lecture!”
“Did you want to say something, Laura?” Mrs Weaver glared down the minibus in our direction.
“No, Miss,” Kenny muttered, and the M&Ms sniggered.
“Right, it goes without saying that I expect all of you to be on your very best behaviour.” Mrs Weaver glanced in our direction again. I don’t know why. “When you’re abroad, you are representing your country as well as your school, and we want to make a good impression, so…”
Kenny wasn’t listening. Suddenly she bent down in her seat, so that me, Fliss and
Lyndz, who were behind her, couldn’t see what she was doing.
“What’s up with Kenny?” Lyndz hissed.
“Maybe she’s fainted!” Fliss giggled.
“Ssh!” Frankie turned round and winked at us. “Pass it on!”
We didn’t have a clue what was going on – until suddenly one of Emma’s posh leather bags appeared from under Kenny’s seat! Emma had been showing off about her matching luggage, and she’d put the smallest bag under her seat. Now Lyndz, who was sitting behind Kenny, bent down and pushed the bag backwards to me.
“Pass it on, Rosie!” she whispered.
I grabbed the bag and shoved it under my seat. Meanwhile, we all sat there listening to Mrs Weaver, and trying not to laugh.
“And although we want you to have a good time, there are a few important rules you all have to remember,” Mrs Weaver was saying sternly.
“My bag!” Emma Hughes jumped up from her seat. “Mrs Weaver, my bag’s gone!”
Kenny turned round and nodded to me, so I immediately pushed the bag back under the seat to Lyndz, who quickly pushed it back to Kenny. By the time Mrs Weaver made it to the back of the minibus, we were all sitting there, looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in our mouths.
“Where did you put your bag, Emma?” Mrs Weaver raised her eyebrows.
“Under my seat, Miss!” Emma said furiously, “And I bet I know who’s taken it too!” She turned round and glared at Kenny.
“Well, thanks very much!” Kenny said indignantly, and we all nearly bust a gut trying not to laugh.
Mrs Weaver bent down and looked under the Queen’s seat. “Is that the bag you’re looking for?” she asked in a frosty voice.
Emma bent over and took a look. “Er… yes!” she stammered. “But it wasn’t there before!” She jumped up from her seat, eyes narrowed, and shot Kenny an evil stare. “You took it!”
“No way!” Kenny retorted airily.
“Hm, well, no harm done as you’ve got the bag back safely, Emma.” But Mrs Weaver fixed us with a beady-eyed glare. “I hope you girls have been listening to what I’ve been saying? I want you all on your best behaviour and doing what you’re told
without any exceptions.
Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Mrs Weaver,” we all chorused.
Mrs Weaver turned round and went back to the front of the bus.
Straightaway Kenny turned round and winked at the rest of us. “But that won’t stop us having the biggest sleepover of all time, will it!”