been going round for years. I can’t believe Frankie swallowed it!”
It took the combined strength of the rest of the Sleepover Club to stop an enraged Frankie throwing herself at Emma.
“Where’s the other Queen of Darkness today?” panted Kenny, still hanging on to a furious Frankie.
“Yeah, you want to be careful,” said Lyndz. “If I was you, I wouldn’t want to get Frankie angry without my evil twin for back-up.”
As everybody in the village knows, Emma Hughes and Emily Berryman, aka the M&Ms, are our deadly enemies. This was one of the few times I’d ever seen one without the other. Without her snooty bodyguard, Emma looked strangely incomplete.
“If you must know,” she said stiffly, “Emily’s caught—” She glanced around to make sure no one was listening and dropped her voice, “—erm, nits.”
Kenz totally cracked up. “Oh, that’s made my day! Emily Berryman’s got head lice!! Can’t you just imagine her scratching herself like a monkey!”
“My sympathy’s with the nits personally,” Frankie growled, still trying to wriggle free.
“Aren’t you scared you’ll catch them, Emma?” said Lyndz wickedly. “You’ve always got your heads together plotting some little scheme. Her evil creepy-crawlies wouldn’t have far to jump.”
Kenny gave a fake gasp. “Yikes, Emma!! I just saw something crawl into your hair! Dad says nits LURVE clean, blonde hair. He says that’s like head lice heaven to them.”
Kenny’s dad is a doctor. Kenz says this is why she revels in blood and gore and all things icky. We don’t totally buy this. We just think she’s bizarre!
Emma was furious with Kenny. “You don’t think I’d fall for that old trick, do you?” she spat. She stuck her nose in the air, obviously meaning to flounce away.
At that moment we all noticed the pretty blonde girl standing behind her.
“Hi, Emma, they said I’d find you in here!” she beamed. “Your mum fixed everything. Mrs Poole says I can come into school with you any time I’m at a loose end.”
It was blatantly obvious Emma hadn’t expected to see her friend in the dinner hall. “Oh, that’s erm, super!” she gushed. “Why don’t I show you round the school?” And she practically dragged the mystery girl towards the door.
“That’s them, isn’t it?” I heard the girl say excitedly. “They’re just like you described, Emma! But it sounded like you were having an argument.”
She’s Australian, I thought. The new girl had exactly the same accent as Brad Martin, our favourite Aussie soap star.
I saw panic flicker over Emma’s face. She gave a nervous giggle. “Oh, we’re always kidding around like that. It doesn’t mean anything.”
I thought I must have misheard. It was quite possible. By this time Frankie had worked herself into a major razz.
“…plus I hope that hideous ghost drags her into a wall and they never EVER find her body!” she finished up breathlessly.
I was horrified. “Frankie, don’t say that! Suppose Emma got ghost-napped for real. How would you feel then?”
“I’d think she deserves all she gets,” Frankie said spitefully.
“Yeah, if the ghost wants her, let it have her,” said Kenz.
“I agree,” said Lyndz. “What do you reckon, Rosie-posie?”
Rosie jumped. “Oh, sorry, I was miles away.”
“Must have been somewhere depressing,” said Kenz cheerfully. “You looked gutted just then.”
Rosie looked anxious. “I didn’t, did I? Well, I’m fine, honestly.”
She wasn’t but we didn’t find that out till later.
Frankie spent the rest of the afternoon dreaming up ways for us to avenge ourselves on Emma Hughes. By home time, she’d narrowed it down to three personal faves.
1. Pouring cold baked beans over Emma’s head.
2. Smuggling fresh droppings from the school rabbit into her lunch box.
3. Stuffing old, v. smelly cream cheese in our enemy’s P.E. shoes.
“I vote for the beans,” giggled Lyndz.
Kenny shook her head. “Uh-uh. Rabbit droppings have better shock-value.”
“Yeah,” said Frankie. “Plus Emma’s shoes are bound to be naturally cheesy anyway!”
Everyone fell about. Everyone but Rosie, that is.
I couldn’t help noticing that our mate didn’t join in Frankie’s scheming. She’d been quiet all day. Any time we asked what was wrong, she said she had a headache.
This is typical Rosie. She keeps her worries so bottled up, Kenny says it’s a wonder steam doesn’t spurt from her ears. She’s heaps more chilled than she was when she first moved to Cuddington though. It used to take weeks before she’d admit anything was bothering her. Now it’s days at most. Though even now, she tends to withdraw inside herself at the first sign of trouble.
I couldn’t help feeling tense as we walked home. Mum says I have to learn not to be so sensitive. But I can’t bear those jangly vibes when people are upset, can you? Suddenly I noticed something totally unbelievable. Emma and her new friend were following us.
The others noticed it at exactly the same moment.
Emma was obviously desperate for us not to notice her. Each time one of us looked back, she bent down and pretended to tie her shoelace, which has to be the most pathetic ruse ever. (Kenny reckoned she must have seen it on an old 1970s cop show!) Emma’s friend was obviously wondering what on earth was going on.
“I’ve had enough of this,” growled Frankie. “No one spies on the Sleepover Club and gets away with it.”
“Spying?” I said in surprise. “Why would Emma spy on us?”
“Because she’s gone over to the dark side, dummy,” said Frankie. She blocked the pavement, very obviously waiting for the two girls to catch us up. “What’s going on?” she called to them in an aggressive voice. “You’ve been sticking to us like fly paper all day.”
Emma went bright red, but to my astonishment, the new girl beamed at Frankie and stuck out her hand. “Hi, you must be Frankie!” she said in a genuinely friendly voice. “I can tell from your gorgeous curly hair. Emma’s told me all about you guys. I’m Kirstin.”
Frankie looked totally confused. She just did NOT know how to react. I felt it was down to me to jump in and save my fellow blonde from humiliation. I grabbed Kirstin’s hand and pumped it up and down.
“Hi, I’m Fliss. Let me introduce the others. From left to right: Rosie, Lyndz, Kenny and yes, the one with her mouth open is Frankie. I just lurve your trainers, by the way.”
Kirstin looked pleased. “I got them in Sydney, just before we flew over. I’m Australian if you hadn’t guessed.” She pronounced it “guissed”.
“I thought so! She sounds exactly like the characters in South Beach, doesn’t she?” Lyndz said excitedly.
“Emma told me you guys had a bit of a South Beach craze going. I heard you met Brad Martin.” Kirstin made a flirty face. “That guy is so dishy!!”
“Emma TOLD you we met Brad?”