Sleepover Girls Go Wild!

Sleepover Girls Go Wild!
Ginny Deals

Join the Sleepover Club: Frankie, Kenny, Felicity, Rosie and Lyndsey, five girls who want to have fun – but who always end up in mischief!The Sleepover Club is off to the local wildlife park, AnimalWorld, for the day! Will Frankie enter the Spider House? Will Fliss go anywhere near the snakes? There’s loads of laughs and plenty of animal magic on such a a brilliant day out. But then Kenny teases Lyndz about what Hissing Horace the python’s having for supper. Little does she know what she’s started…Pack up your sleepover kitand let’s PIG OUT!!

by Ginny Deals

DEDICATION (#ulink_60cb63d5-5d00-5728-aa2e-40a852bf5a5c)

For W, an avid fan

CONTENTS

Cover (#uf9461c8e-28e1-5935-badc-e859f90b27d8)

Title Page (#u307a86d2-4a57-528f-b508-e4414972577b)

Dedication (#ucb0b3af1-9ec7-5258-a9cd-6e9227f00a5b)

Chapter One (#u932dd66c-84b8-5323-80f1-1c8a4987b2b1)

Chapter Two (#u3df9e175-57e2-5bc8-8ec0-781f848e7396)

Chapter Three (#u5a93ac74-2abf-510e-b42c-c3218e2cf7e9)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Have you been Invited to all these Sleepovers? (#litres_trial_promo)

Sleepover Kit List (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

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Oh, hiya! I didn’t hear you come in. Just hold on a sec, while I stick this sequin on… What do you think? What do you mean, what is it? It’s a choker, you derr-brain. See? All the sequins and beads, with these silver ribbons to tie at the back? I’m making it for this party I might be going to at the weekend. Yeah, check my careful use of the word “might”. It all depends on what mood Dad’s in when I ask him about it. He’s been mad for a week or so now, ever since—

Oops! Nearly gave the game away there! That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To hear all the latest Sleepover Club goss? Well, you’ve come to the right gal. I might be in a whole heap of trouble, but I’ve got some inside info on our latest disaster that’s so secret, you’ve got to swear not to tell a single soul. Not even the other Sleepover Clubbers, OK? Even if they torture you by tickling your feet with grass stalks. This has to be strictly between you and me, or my dad will never let me out of the house again.

You probably know all about us by now, don’t you? The Sleepover Club – five girls who really know how to get into trouble. Maybe you don’t remember? I’ll give you a quick run-down on us before I tell the story, then. But first of all, I’ve got a question for you.

Do you know that rhyme, “Five Little Piggies”? I know, it’s a really weird question, but hey! My mates don’t call me Spaceman for nothing! So, do you know it? “This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed at home, this little piggy had roast beef, this little piggy had none, and this little piggy went WEE WEE WEE all the way home”? I bet your mum or dad used to tell it to you when you were a little kid, maybe when you were getting out of the bath or something. And I bet they wiggled your toes when they did it, too. Parents can be so dorky sometimes.

Basically, my mates in the Sleepover Club are kind of like those pigs in the rhyme. Take me for instance. Francesca Theresa Thomas, known as Frankie. I’m probably the piggy who goes to market, ’cos I’m dead sociable – always the life and soul of the party. I like dressing up and going a bit crazy when I get the chance, to tell the truth. Mind you, I’ve calmed down a bit since my cute baby sister Izzy was born. A big sister has responsibilities, you know? I’m the leader of the Sleepover Club, I guess. At least, that’s what the others would say – though they wouldn’t say it in front of me.

Lyndz is probably the piggy who stays at home. She’s the peacemaker, with a crazy family life. Lyndsey Marianne Collins is her full name, and she’s got FOUR brothers – two older, two younger. Imagine that! Eight smelly socks on the landing every day! I don’t think I could live with that. She’d love this piggy comparison, ’cos she’s totally loony about animals of all shapes and sizes. She’s particularly mad about horses, and spends most of her time down at the stables – when she’s not hanging out with her best mates, of course.

The piggy with the roast beef would be Fliss, the girl with the best of everything. Felicity Diana Sidebotham, she used to be. What a cringe – I’d have died of embarrassment if I’d been stuck with a name like that! I know Thomas isn’t anything special, but I’m well pleased I’ve got that and not Sidebotham. Well, she’s not Sidebotham any more, you’ll be pleased to know, ’cos her mum just got married. Guess what she is now? Proudlove! Not much better, is it? She doesn’t have a great sense of humour, Fliss, so don’t go winding her up about her name, will you? She lives with her mum and step-dad in a perfect little house with a perfect little bedroom and a perfect little wardrobe. She’s a perfect little pain in the you-know-what sometimes, too, but basically she’s a good laugh. She’d probably hate this pig comparison, though – she goes on and on about diets, which is totally stupid.

Rosie’s probably best described as the piggy with none – but don’t tell her that, ’cos she’ll go mad. She gets really touchy about money. I don’t think her mum has got much, not since her dad left home. But what’s money got to do with anything? She’s got loads of other things – a brother, a sister, a wicked sense of humour, a fab talent for singing and mimicking people, and four top mates. She’s the newest member of the Sleepover Club – and we wouldn’t have invited her to join if we didn’t think she was cool.

Which leaves my best mate of mates – Laura “Kenny” McKenzie. We’ve known each other since we were little kids, and have done pretty much everything together ever since! She’s the piggy who goes “WEE WEE WEE” all the way home, ’cos she’s got so much energy. (Plus it’s kind of funny, that bit about weeing.) Kenny loves playing footie and doing other sporty stuff, and is a total tomboy. Like, she refuses to wear skirts and dresses ever, which Prissy Flissy can’t understand at all! Oh, except once, when she was a bridesmaid at Fliss’s mum’s wedding. Even then, she thought she looked like a meringue. Nope, Kenz would much rather be charging around in her Leicester City football strip and a pair of jeans. Kenny and frills just so don’t go together.

So, ta-da! There you have us, the Sleepover Club, the fabbest group of mates in the world. We all hang round each other’s houses at weekends and have sleepovers, which are totally ace. We have midnight feasts, and reeeally funny games, and play jokes on each other, and spook ourselves with ghost stories at midnight – you name it, we do it.

Oh yeah. Like I mentioned before, we also get into trouble. The major parental screaming fit kind of trouble. You know, when your mum or dad’s eyes get so bulgy with rage you think they are going to pop out and hit the carpet. Well, this latest Sleepover Club adventure is no exception. If anything, it’s totally WORSE than anything we’ve ever done before. So remember the pig rhyme (it’s kind of relevant) and hold on to your knickers, ’cos there’s a pretty wicked rollercoaster story coming up. Are you ready for it? You can flump down in that beanbag in the corner, if you like. Get comfy, get in the popcorn… and let’s begin!

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“Happy Birthday to you,Squashed tomatoes and stew,Bread and butter in the gutter,Happy Birthday to you!”

We were all walking back from school on Friday, arm in arm right across the pavement – me, Kenny, Fliss, Rosie and Lyndz. And because it was my birthday that weekend, the others had all decided to caterwaul really loudly at me, and expect me to like it.

“Gee, thanks, you guys,” I said, putting on a really cheesy accent. “Ah’m reeeally moved by your beeootiful singing voices—ow!”

“You’re just an ungrateful pig, Frankie Thomas,” grinned Kenny, bashing me in the ribs with her elbow again.

“Yes, I agree with Kenny,” said Fliss in an exaggerated way, her eyelashes batting up and down like a pair of mad spiders. “We were trying our best, you know.”

“I wasn’t,” said Rosie with a grin. “Anyone got any crisps?”

“LYNDZ!” we all chorused. Lyndz always had food in her bag.

“Hey, guys,” said Lyndz, burrowing deep down in her manky old rucksack (it had a stain on one corner which Fliss swore was horse muck), “I can’t wait for tomorrow, can you?”

“Why, what’s happening tomorrow?” said Kenny in her most innocent voice, her eyebrows all crinkled and enquiring.

“Oh, you know!” spluttered Lyndz, fishing out a squashed packet of crisps and passing them to Rosie. “Frankie’s birthday treat!”

“Oh Lyndz, didn’t anyone tell you?” said Rosie slyly. “Frankie’s birthday treat has been cancelled. We’re not going to Animal World tomorrow after all, are we Franks?”

“Give over,” I said, giving Rosie a friendly shove. “Poor Lyndz has been looking forward to this for weeks, haven’t you my leetle animal-loving friend?”

“Squeak,” said Fliss solemnly.

“Oink,” added Rosie.