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Authors: Fiona Cummings

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BOOK: Emergency Sleepover
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“It was brilliant, you ought to have been there!” gasped Rosie, clutching her sides. “The M&Ms were in my garden rummaging about and they picked up one of the pots with the clues in…”

“But Ben and Spike appeared with Mum and they recognised Dad’s pots, didn’t they?” Lyndz continued. “So they rushed up to the M&Ms…”

“… and grabbed their pot from them, screaming that they were stealing it and it didn’t belong to them!” spluttered Rosie. “It was so funny, I thought I was going to wet myself! That’s why we’ve been so long.”

“Well, at least it should have slowed down the creeps,” I said. “Do you think it’ll be long before the first team gets…”

I couldn’t finish because there was a whole load of screaming and shouting. We looked round – and Ryan Scott and his team were tearing towards us,
closely followed by the M&Ms.

“Quick, where’s the banner we made for the finishing line?” yelled Frankie. “You didn’t forget that as well, did you Kenny?”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to be looking after it!” I yelled back.

“I knew this would be a disaster,” whimpered Fliss.

“Hey, look it’s OK!” Lyndz shouted excitedly and pointed to the table where Frankie’s mum had given out the first clues. “Mrs Poole must have brought it with her from school because she’s put it up over there.”

We hared towards it, just as the two teams were hurtling by the trolleys in front of the supermarket. They were neck and neck. I saw Emma Hughes try to push Ryan Scott out of the way, but he held his own and kept her off. Danny McCloud was running and holding his little brother’s hand. Behind him were two older women, both bright red in the face and huffing and puffing a bit.

“They’re with their mums!” I squealed.

It was impossible to say who was in the front, and Emma and Ryan both seemed to slap their carrier bags on the table at the same time. Everybody looked confused and Emma Hughes and her team were all bent double trying to get their breath back.

“We won, didn’t we?” Emily Berryman panted at last.

“Nah,” I said confidently. “I’m sure I saw Scotty put his bag down first.”

Everyone looked at me.

“I’m not so sure, Laura,” Mrs Poole told me. “I think I’m going to have to examine all their clues and see if they have picked up the correct things.”

By that time most of the other teams were back, laughing and shouting.

“That was great fun!” said a voice behind me. “I’m sure Posh Spice couldn’t have organised anything better!”

It was Jake.

“Glad you enjoyed it!” I grinned.

Mr Hicks had come over to see Katie and his wife, who’d both been on Jake’s team.

“Give me a shout when you want me to announce your grand finale!” he said and winked at me.

“Oh, so it’s
you
who’s going into the bath of baked beans!” Jake guffawed. “I might have guessed. Katie’s been telling me all about it. Well, at least you’ll get that stupid Leicester City shirt dirty!”

“I’d rather have a dirty Leicester City shirt than a clean Manchester United shirt!” I grinned back at him.

Then Frankie charged over to me and leapt on my back.

“You’ll
never
guess what’s happened!” she shrieked. “Mrs Poole’s only disqualified the M&Ms for having the wrong colour of nail varnish on their clue, hasn’t she?!”

Apparently Fliss’s mum had got so ticked off with them that she’d accidentally on purpose given them Plum Pudding instead of Mango Sorbet! Wicked!

“Way to go, Mrs S!” I yelled.

I was definitely up for my baked-bean bath now. I gave the signal to Mr Hicks and he went inside. In a couple of minutes there was a crackling over the speakers, and then he announced:

“Congratulations to the winning team in the scavenger hunt. The Scotts and the McClouds will be having their prize of a minute’s trolley dash round Pricebusters at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. But now, I urge you to go outside and give generously as Kenny McKenzie is going to sit in a bath of baked beans. All money raised is for the Children’s Ward Appeal at Queen Mary’s Hospital. Thank you!”

You should have seen all the people streaming out. Some had bags full of shopping with them, others seemed to have abandoned their trolleys inside.

“Well, you’ve certainly got a big audience!” smiled Frankie.

“Yeah, you’d better grab those collecting buckets because I’m going to raise loads of dosh!”

Now, you know me. If I’m going to do something, I do it to the max. I stepped up to the bath and shouted:

“Drum roll please!”

Ryan Scott and Danny McCloud started drumming on the table.

I stepped one foot into the bath. It was really yucky and squidgy, like wading through maggots. I pretended to be posing in a beauty contest. Then I pretended to be a muscle-man. And all the time the crowd was whooping and laughing and loving it.

I meant to lower myself gently into the beans, taking as long as possible. But somehow I missed my footing. My legs slid from under me and suddenly –
WHOOSH!
I was submerged and thrashing about in the beans as though I was trying to fend off a shark! Beans were everywhere – in my eyes, in my ears, up my nose, down my throat. It was
awful.
I started coughing and spluttering, but that just made everybody laugh even more.

I had to thrash about and splutter for quite a few minutes before people started drifting away back to their shopping.

“That was brilliant!” shrieked Frankie when the last person had gone. “We raised loads of dosh, look at this!” She rattled her bucket full of money in my face. “The others have collected heaps too!”

“I don’t care!” I gasped. “Just get me out of here!”

None of the others would touch me. They just made being-sick faces when they saw how icky and slimy I was. It wasn’t until Mum came over, armed with carrier bags to use as gloves, that I was able to get out.

“Crikey Kenny, what a state!” squealed Rosie.

The others were all bent double with laughter, and Lyndz was laughing so much that she started hiccuping. Then they all got in a huddle.

“What’s going on?” I demanded.

They laughed some more, and took their buckets and emptied the money into a canvas sack that Mrs Poole had given them. Then they all started running to the side of the supermarket.

“Where are you going?” I demanded.

“It’s the last scavenger clue!” they giggled.

“Childish!” I tutted and tried to get rid of some of the gunk which had collected in my ears. I was so busy doing that that I didn’t hear them come back. One minute I was covered in dried-on tomato sauce, the next… SPLOSH! I was wet and slimy
all over again.
Those so-called mates of mine had filled up their buckets with water from the car-wash and thrown it over me!

“Right, I’m going to get you!” I yelled, and started to chase them towards the front entrance of the supermarket.

Customers looked terrified as four girls came tearing towards them pursued by a gunge-covered monster. Frankie, Fliss, Rosie and Lyndz dived through the main doors. I knew I shouldn’t follow them in, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Not so fast, young lady!”

I felt someone grab hold of my collar. I’d been nabbed by the store detective! Or maybe it was Mr Hicks? Trembling I turned round.

“Dad!
You nearly gave me the shock of my life!”

“I should think so too. Shoppers would have been keeling over in fear if you’d gone tearing in there looking like a swamp monster. Sometimes I despair of you, Kenny, I really do.”

By that time my friends had come out to find me.

“We’ve just had a close encounter with Mr Hicks!” Frankie gasped. “We had to pretend that we’d rushed in there to thank him for all his help before we went home.”

“So how did it go?” asked Dad, wiping his hands clean on his handkerchief. “Did you make lots of money?”

“The money!” we all shrieked together.

We’d left the sack full of coins next to the bath of baked beans when we went chasing off. We dashed back as fast as we could. But it had disappeared!

“Not again!” moaned Rosie. “I don’t suppose you asked Mrs Poole to look after it this time, did you Fliss?”

Fliss shook her head.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” Molly the Monster swung the sack in front of my face.

“Give it here!” I demanded.

“No way!” she laughed. “If you’re so careless, I should keep it. Or at least get a reward for finding it.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous, Molly!” boomed Dad from behind me. “Hand it over at once.”

He took the sack from Molly, then turned back to me. “But I do think you ought to be a bit more careful with things, Kenny. And do try to get yourself cleaned up – you’re certainly not going in my car looking like that!”

Charming! What was even more charming was that he meant it. When we’d disposed of the bath of baked beans, Dad actually made me walk home! He offered to give the others a lift, but they said they’d walk back with me. (I think Fliss was a bit peeved about that, actually.) Molly the Monster thought that was ace, and waved and pulled faces at us from the back of Dad’s car until they were right out of sight.

To get to my house we had to pass Rosie’s, Fliss’s and Frankie’s homes. Rosie’s mum was in their garden.

“Golly, you look a mess, Kenny. Have a good time tonight, and don’t forget…” And she put her fingers to her lips.

“What was all that about?” I asked Rosie.

“Dunno,” she shrugged. “Maybe the fresh air has gone to her head!”

As we walked past Fliss’s house, Andy was helping Mrs Sidebotham to shift her table back inside.

“Nice one, Mrs S!” I called out. “You were a real star today!”

She smiled and giggled a bit, just like Fliss does sometimes.

“Glad to be of assistance. Are you ready for the spo…”

“Sleepover
,” said Andy quickly.

“Erm, yes, thanks,” I replied, puzzled.

We carried on walking.

“What’s matter with everybody today?” I wondered out loud.

When we passed Frankie’s house, her mum was in the garden with Izzy.

“Have a good sleepover, girls. And don’t talk too much!”

“Yeah, right, Mother,” called Frankie, raising her eyes to the rest of us. “Weird, really weird!”

We were all kind of ready to flop when we got back to my place, but first we had to perform Operation Clean-Up Kenny! It was
wild.
Dad rigged up his long hose and filled our really old manky paddling pool. Then, he made me stand in it whilst the others went crazy hosing me down. The water was
freezing
, but it was a real blast! And when they’d hosed away all the beans and tomato sauce from me, I turned the tables on them! We were all dripping wet by the time Mum called us inside.

“You lot are worse than when you were three, do you know that?” she asked, laughing. “Go on, you’d better get changed, but dry yourselves off first.” She threw us a towel each.

“Haven’t we had a brill day?” I gabbled whilst we were in my bedroom, changing. “Wasn’t my bath wicked?”

“Yeah, especially when you fell in!” hooted Rosie.

“But the scavenger hunt worked well too, didn’t it?” Fliss looked really chuffed. “You ought to have seen the M&Ms’ faces when Mrs Poole disqualified them!”

“Your mum’s going to be a marked woman!” Rosie giggled. “They’ll never go back there to have their nails done!”

We all screamed with laughter. There were so many things to talk about. We hadn’t even had a chance to go over Mufti Day yet. Still, there’d be plenty of time for that later. First we had the job of counting all the money we’d raised from my baked-bean stunt.

We went downstairs, and Dad put the sack of coins on the table.

“How about if you tip this lot out, then you can all count it together. Put coppers into groups making 10p, five pences into groups making 50p and anything above that should be in groups making up £1. Have you got that?”

“Yes,” we all nodded.

“No,” Fliss shook her head.

Dad picked a few coins out of the bag and demonstrated. He put ten 1ps into a pile, then five 2ps.

BOOK: Emergency Sleepover
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