groaned. Then we discovered that if we went a bit further away we could make it sound more echoey, so we opened the door and Rosie and I went down the stairs to make hollow footsteps.
Frankie waited until we were in position, and then switched on the microphone. As we stamped up the stairs she stamped down, making the most creepy ghastly chuckles. We were really enjoying ourselves, and Rosie was doing one final hideous cackle when—
Bang! Molly came storming out of her room.
“Can’t you kids shut up?” she screeched. “You don’t need to play your silly games on the stairs! It’s bad enough having you shrieking and yelling in poor Emma’s room!”
Of course the microphone recorded it all. We didn’t bother answering her – we flew back to turn the microphone off, and then we slammed Emma’s door.
“Doom and Disaster!” I said.
“Let’s play it back,” Frankie suggested. “Maybe Molly sounds like a hideous awful witch.”
Rosie and I giggled, and we rewound the tape and pressed Play.
It was the most fantastical ghoulish tape ever – until Molly came on. She did sound dreadful. But not much like a witch.
“Shall we tape over it?” Rosie asked.
“No – let’s leave it!” I said. “We’ll tell Lyndz and Fliss we’ve got the only recording ever made of a horrible monster!”
We were in the kitchen making the green slime when Fliss and Lyndz arrived. Fliss knocked so politely we didn’t hear her, but Lyndz gave the letter box a real hammering.
“Great!” I said when we were all in the kitchen. “The Sleepover Club’s in action again! And we’ve got some real surprises for you… especially in the garden!”
Fliss was looking anxious already. She kept peering over her shoulder and jumping at the slightest noise, and now she gave a little squeak. “My mum says we’re all to stay indoors,” she said. “She says you don’t know who might be watching the house to see if it’s a good moment to get in.”
I caught Frankie’s eye, and we both burst out laughing.
Fliss went very pink. “It’s nothing to laugh about,” she said.
“No,” I said, “it’s not that – we’re laughing because Frankie and I spent hours outside today trying to get in and we couldn’t! This house has to be the most burglar-proof house in the whole world!”
“Oh,” Fliss said, and she began to look a bit better.
Then Frankie and I told the others about how Molly had refused to let us in and how Frankie’s ice-cream head had been ruined.
When they’d heard the whole story, that settled it. We all made a vow of terrible revenge.
“We could haunt her all night,” Frankie suggested.
“How about making her an apple-pie bed?” Lyndz giggled.
“Maybe we could tap on her window!” Rosie said.
Fliss went twitchy again. “But then we’d have to go outside!”
“Don’t worry, we’ll think of something! “I said, then I decided to change the subject. “Can we see your cake, Fliss?”
“Oh, yes! It’s the best!” Fliss hurried out to the hall, and came back with a cake tin.
For once Fliss wasn’t exaggerating. The cake was mega brilliant! It had two sorts of green swirled together, and there were jelly worms popping out of the icing and jelly spiders crouching round the bottom. We all ooohed and aaahed, and told Fliss how clever she was. Fliss smiled from ear to ear.
“I had some jelly worms left over,” she said. “Here – I thought they might be useful.”
“Great! We can put them in the slime,” I said. “Where’s your pizza, Lyndz?”
Lyndz grinned. “Wait and see!” she said.
“That’s not fair!” Rosie said. “We’ve seen Fliss’s cake!”
Lyndz just went on grinning and shook her head.
We couldn’t hassle her any more because just then Mum came into the kitchen. “Are you lot still in here?” she said. “I need to get something ready for Dad – he’s rushing in before his meeting—” She stopped when she saw the cake. “Goodness! That is clever!” Fliss blushed, and looked really pleased with herself again.
“It’s nothing,” she said in the sort of voice that means “Yes, I am very clever and I know I am!”
“It’s OK, Mum,” I said. “All we’ve got to do is bung the slime in the fridge and then we’ll go upstairs.”
“Fine,” Mum said. “But don’t forget—”
“Not to spoil anything of Emma’s!” I finished her sentence for her.
We finished our stuff in the kitchen and galloped up the stairs to Emma’s room.
“Come on,” I said, “let’s make ourselves some space here. Emma’s away all weekend, so she’ll never know. We can put everything back tomorrow.”
“Isn’t that spoiling things?” Fliss asked.
“No,” I said. “It’s moving things. If we move everything against the wall we can really spread out tonight. The way it is now we couldn’t swing a cat.”
Fliss giggled. “Poor cat!”
“I can swing a teddy!” Frankie said, and she whirled Emma’s white bear round her head.
Crash! Emma’s bedside lamp leapt off the table, and Rosie, Lyndz, Fliss and I cackled with laughter.
“Ooops!” Frankie got down on her hands and knees and picked it up again. “Maybe you were right, Kenny! There isn’t any room to swing anything!”
We heaved and shoved and pushed the furniture right up against the walls, and piled Emma’s clothes and shoes on one of the beds. Then we looked round.
“Wow!” Lyndz was dead impressed. “There’s room to swing dozens of cats in here now!”
“Whoopee!” Frankie grabbed the white teddy again and swung it madly round her head. “Room to swing a teddy!”
Lyndz snatched up a green frog, and Rosie and Fliss fought over a fluffy bunny. Fliss won, so Rosie pounced on a pink giraffe. I found a squashy elephant… and we swung them all round and round and round!
“Room to swing a jungle!” I yelled, and I let the elephant fly… and the elephant hit Rosie, and Rosie fell over onto Fliss, and Fliss whacked Lyndz with her fluffy bunny and Lyndz sent her green frog zooming across the room and—
Crash! The bedside lamp went flying for a second time.
This time the lamp broke. Seriously broke. Doom! The bottom bit was made of pink china (it was typical of Emma to have everything in prissy pink!) and the pink china was now in bits. The shade was bent too.
We went rather quiet for a moment as we looked at the wreckage.
“Sorry,” Lyndz said.
“We’re all to blame,” Frankie said, and I nodded.
“If it’s anyone’s fault it’s the frog’s,” Rosie said, and Frankie giggled. “Ground that frog!”
“Stop its pocket money!” I said.
“We could try and mend it,” Fliss said. She was picking up the pieces. “Have you got any of that Super Glue stuff?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “There might be some in the kitchen. But Emma’s bound to notice.”
“Let’s