Merry Christmas, Sleepover Club: Christmas Special

“Not Dishy Dave again, after the Brown Owl disaster!” Lyndz said with a shudder. “That was awful!”

We all giggled, remembering our terrible attempt to fix up Brown Owl with Dave, the school caretaker. It had gone about as wrong as it could have!

“I’m definitely not putting my mum through that!” I said firmly. “In fact, I totally intend to stay OUT of her love life, so don’t you lot get any ideas!”

Frankie’s face fell, and I could tell she’d been half-serious about plotting to fix my mum up. “Well, if you’re sure…” she said reluctantly. “We do have quite a hunky next-door neighbour who’s just moved in – no girlfriend, either!”

“No, thanks!” I said, shaking my head. “End of discussion, Frankie!”

Anyway, you’ve hopefully got a good idea of what we’re all like now. We’re all best friends and do lots of stuff together. We have a sleepover once a week, on a Friday or Saturday, and take it in turns to host it. Wherever we have the sleepover, it’s always an excellent laugh. There’s not much sleep involved though, what with all the games we play and sweets we munch!

What I like most of all, though, is having four really close friends who I can have a laugh with, be myself with and trust with all my secrets. I’ve never had that before, and it’s absolutely ACE! Sure, we sometimes bicker and fall out about stupid things, but at the end of the day, I don’t know how I’d get along without them. Well, that’s the Sleepover Club for you!

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I’d better get on with the story, now you’ve met everyone.

I suppose it all started in the last week of November, when Mrs Weaver came into the classroom and announced that our class and Mr Nicholls’ class would be putting on a Christmas pantomime of Cinderella for the parents and the rest of the school.

There was this big excited OOOOH! from all of us. Excellent! Normally we only ever do a boring nativity play and a carol concert. I don’t know about you, but singing Little Donkey is NOT my idea of a good time. But Mrs Weaver went on to say that Miss Middleton, the new infant teacher who’d come to our school in September, was a bit of a creative sort. Not only had she written the pantomime, but she’d also agreed to organise the whole thing. COO-ELL!

Us five grinned and made thumbs-up signs at each other. Miss Middleton was really young and pretty and funny. This could turn out to be an ace Sleepover Club event!

The classroom was buzzing as everyone started whispering things to each other in excitement. Mrs Weaver banged on her desk with a ruler. “Quieten down!” she called. “Do you want me to tell you how to audition for the panto, or not?!”

Instantly, everyone was as quiet as mice.

Mrs Weaver smiled. “Oh, that got your attention, didn’t it?” she said. “Seeing as I obviously have a class of budding actors and actresses, I’d better tell you that there’s a meeting in the hall at lunchtime today, for everyone interested in taking part. And for those of you who AREN’T interested in being on the stage, let me remind you that we’ll need lots of scenery painters, costume designers, prop makers and people to help out with the lighting, too! So if you want to sign up for anything, come along to the hall at one o’clock sharp.”

We all grinned at each other. This was going to be wicked!

Fliss put her hand up, blushing slightly. “Er, Mrs Weaver, who gets to be Cinderella?” she asked, tossing her long hair.

Kenny rolled her eyes. “Let me guess – you think it should be YOU!” she muttered.

Mrs Weaver frowned at Kenny, and then turned her attention to Fliss. “Well, Felicity, that’s why we’re having auditions,” she said. “Miss Middleton will tell us more about it at lunchtime, but basically, anyone who’s interested in being Cinderella will have to do an audition next week. For the audition, you’ll have to read out some of Cinderella’s lines and maybe sing a song, too, so we can see who has a good voice, and who can speak nice and clearly.”

Fliss bit her lip. “But Cinderella IS blonde, isn’t she?” she said, frowning. “I thought—”

“The Cinderella in the Disney cartoon is blonde, yes,” Mrs Weaver said firmly. “But we’re not going to choose our Cinderella on hair colour, Felicity – just talent!”

“Oh, of course,” Fliss said, sounding a bit dejected. I knew – and the whole class knew – that Fliss had thought she’d get the part on looks alone!

“She’s got no chance, then, if they’re going for talent!” whispered Emily Berryman loudly. Snidey cow!!

If you didn’t know, her and her snotty sidekick Emma Hughes are big enemies of the Sleepover Club. We call them the M&Ms, but that’s certainly not because they’re as nice as the chocolate M&Ms. They’re the sort of girls who’ll pull your ponytail really hard, or nick your nicest pen when they think you’re not looking. I’m sure there’s a couple like them in your class, too, worse luck!

That morning seemed to go really really slo-o-ow. I swear time stood still and we were trapped in the classroom for about a week. Mrs Weaver was teaching us this complicated thing about fractions which I just couldn’t understand. Every time I looked down at my maths book, the same thought popped into my head. Cinderella! Cinderella! Cinderella!

I was dying for lunchtime to come, so we could go to Miss Middleton’s meeting and hear all about the panto. How could anyone concentrate on boring fractions at a time like this?

I love the story of Cinderella. OK, so the ending’s a bit sloppy with Prince Charming and all that yucky lovey-dovey stuff, but I just adore the bit where the fairy godmother turns the pumpkin into a magnificent carriage, and the four mice into beautiful white horses. Wouldn’t that be awesome, having a real-life fairy godmother who came into your bedroom and magicked everything up for you? But how on earth was Miss Middleton going to make that happen on stage? Unless she—

“Rosie Cartwright! Are you with us?” came Mrs Weaver’s voice. “Have you lost the power of your ears, suddenly?”

I went bright red. Oops! Caught daydreaming! “Sorry,” I said, staring down at my page again.

“We were talking about expressing the fraction two-thirds as a decimal,” Mrs Weaver said, still not finished with me. “Would you care to share your thoughts on that with us?”

“Er…” I said, hoping a flash of inspiration would strike. But wouldn’t you know, it didn’t. I’m TERRIBLE at maths! “Er… I don’t know, Miss,” I said in the end, feeling a bit of an idiot.

“You don’t know, Miss,” repeated Mrs Weaver. “I see. You don’t know the answer, even though I’ve just spent ten minutes explaining it to the rest of the class who WERE listening. Now if I was feeling really mean, I’d tell you to stay in at lunchtime for some extra work on fractions…”

I stared at her in horror. She couldn’t be so evil, surely?

“… but luckily for you, I’ll let you off – provided you pay attention for the rest of the lesson. Do we have ourselves a deal?”

“Deal,” I gulped gratefully, vowing to be a model pupil for the rest of the morning. There was no way I wanted to miss that lunchtime meeting!

“Good,” said Mrs Weaver. “So who CAN tell me the answer, then?”

Smug keen-bean Emma Hughes stuck her hand straight up. Surprise, surprise! Couldn’t resist a chance to make one of the Sleepover Club look bad in front of the teacher, as usual.

Wouldn’t you know it, the morning went even slower now I actually had to pay attention and do some work. About three years later, it was lunchtime. We wolfed down our sandwiches in the dining hall, then charged along to the pantomime meeting in the main hall – along with practically everyone else in our year! The joint was JUMPING, as Frankie would say.

Miss Middleton stood at the front with a clipboard. Mrs Weaver, Mr Nicholls and Mrs Somersby were also standing around, holding pieces of paper with lists printed on them.

“Hello, everyone,” Miss Middleton said, when we’d all quietened down. “What a great turn-out! I’m delighted so many of you are interested in helping out on this year’s pantomime. As your teachers have no doubt told you, we’re going to be putting on two performances of Cinderella. There’s plenty of work for everyone to get involved with, so we’ll need lots of helping hands.”

She cleared her throat, and then looked serious.

“Now, this is going to be the first meeting of many, between now and Christmas. There are going to be LOTS of rehearsals, too, so if you’re already busy with things like football or swimming clubs, please make sure you’re not taking on too much. We don’t want anyone collapsing with exhaustion right before Christmas, do we?”

I saw Kenny look a bit thoughtful at that. She’s in the Cuddington Swimming Club and trains twice a week and sometimes on Saturday mornings, too. Still, as Kenny didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word “exhaustion”, I guessed she would probably manage to combine that with the panto quite easily!

“Now, like I said, taking on a part in the play will mean a lot of work, but it’s also going to be a lot of fun,” Miss Middleton said, smiling around at everyone. “Does everyone know the story of Cinderella? Good. Well, what we’ll do next is try and organise everyone into groups. Mr Nicholls has kindly agreed to be in charge of props, scenery and lighting, and Mrs Somersby is going to be sorting out all the costumes and make-up. Last but not least, Mrs Weaver and I will be running the auditions and coaching the rehearsals. Got that?”

“Yes!” everyone chorused.

“Excellent!” said Miss Middleton. “If you’re interested in helping with props and scenery, go and stand in that corner with Mr Nicholls. If you want to help with costumes and make-up, go and stand in THAT corner with Mrs Somersby. And if you’d like an acting, singing or dancing part, stay where you are.”

There was bedlam as lots of people got up and started making their way to different parts of the hall.

The five of us looked at each other.

“I quite fancy a go at making props…” said Kenny.

“I wouldn’t mind doing make-up,” Frankie said thoughtfully. “I can do some wicked designs, I’ve been practising!”