said. “She just wants to make us sweat. Let’s go and play something else. She’ll come to us when she’s fed up!”
“What time is it anyway?” asked Lyndz.
“Time you learnt to tell the time yourself!” Frankie and I shouted together.
“It’s just after six,” said Rosie. “That means it’s almost time for doing makeovers.”
“Can’t we play something else first?” I pleaded. Hopefully, we’d get so involved in another game, the others would forget about the stupid makeovers.
“Let’s play ‘Tell Me’,” said Rosie. “I’ve set it up in the lounge, just in case.”
“Crikey Rosie. You’ve thought of everything haven’t you?” said Frankie. You could see she was impressed. After that, Rosie’s face was just one huge grin. If Frankie was impressed by her organisation, she was on to a winner!
We were in full flow with ‘Tell Me’, yelling and shouting at each other, when the door opened. In came Fliss. Boy, did she look angry!
“Where’ve you been then?” I asked her as I spun the wheel.
“Hiding. I thought we were playing ‘Hide and Seek’. I must have been wrong.” Her mouth was set in a thin, tight line and she spat the words out.
“Keep your hair on!” I said. “Didn’t you hear us calling to tell you that we gave up. Where were you hiding anyway?”
“In a cupboard in the bathroom. And it was very hot and very spooky in there by myself!”
“Come and sit down, Fliss. You can play with me if you want,” said Rosie.
“I thought you might have waited for me,” Fliss turned on Rosie. Rosie’s smile disappeared again. She looked sadder than ever. The rest of us gave Fliss some of our ‘black looks’. It had taken us ages to cheer Rosie up, trust Fliss to spoil it.
“What?” asked Fliss. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”
“Because…”
But we couldn’t finish because an enormous CRASH shook the room and we all started to scream.
While we were screaming, two things seemed to happen together: firstly, we noticed that the large window in the lounge had shattered, and secondly, Rosie’s mother appeared.
“Mum! What have you done?” Rosie wailed. She was staring at her mother as though she had just made her entrance by leaping through the window.
“Darling are you alright?” asked Mrs Cartwright. “Are you all alright? You haven’t been cut by flying glass have you? Are you sure?” She was looking at us all anxiously.
“Why did you do that?” asked Rosie. She was still in a state of shock.
“Do what?” asked Rosie’s mum. “I was just coming in the front door when there was an enormous gust of wind. I heard it shattering the window and I came in here. I didn’t realise that you were here. Are you sure that you’re alright?”
She looked at us carefully, checking for cuts. I was all prepared with my First Aid if anyone needed any assistance. Unfortunately they didn’t.
“Did the wind make you fly?” asked Fliss. “It made me fly, didn’t it Frankie?” Frankie sighed and nodded.
“No, I’m afraid I didn’t fly Fliss,” said Rosie’s mum. “But that certainly sounds like fun.” Fliss smiled and nodded. Rosie began to cry.
“Oh-oh,” I muttered under my breath.
“What’s the matter darling?” asked her mum, putting an arm around Rosie’s shaking shoulders.
“It’s not fair!” cried Rosie. “Why does everything always go wrong for me? I wanted this sleepover to be perfect. I bet it wouldn’t even have rained if it had been at someone else’s house. But whenever I do anything, it always goes wrong.”
“Don’t be silly darling,” said her mum. “It would have been raining today, wherever the sleepover had been.”
“Yes and we wouldn’t have had such a great time playing ‘Hide and Seek’ at anyone else’s house,” said Lyndz. “Your house is best for that.”
Fliss tutted. She still hadn’t forgiven us for leaving her, and something told me it would be a long time before she did.
“Yes, but what about the window?” said Rosie. “I bet that wouldn’t have happened at one of your houses.”
“That could have happened anywhere with this wind,” Mrs Cartwright reassured her. “It’s just that our house is quite old, and some of the windows need replacing.”
Rosie lost it completely when she said that.
“It’s not fair. S’not fair,” she sobbed. It was awful. I felt bad for Rosie and everything. But I couldn’t see what the big deal was. I’d love it if a window smashed in our lounge. Nothing like that ever happens at my house.
Tiff and Spud appeared with brushes and newspaper and bin liners.
“Thanks you two,” said Mrs Cartwright. “You can sweep the glass into a pile, but leave it for me to pick up.”
Tiff sighed and stomped off with the brush.
“I’m just going to phone your father to see if he’ll come round and board up the window…” continued Rosie’s mum. Rosie let out another howl. “… You girls go upstairs to Rosie’s room,” said Mrs Cartwright, shooing us through the door, “and I’ll call you when your food’s ready.”
We all trooped off upstairs. Frankie and Lyndz had their arms around Rosie. Fliss was pretending to fly up the stairs. And I was thinking what a crummy party this was turning out to be. It wasn’t Rosie’s fault, it was just that everyone seemed so wet sometimes. What we needed was a good old Gladiator fight or something. But when I suggested it Frankie went ballistic.
“Kenny, for goodness sake! Can’t you see how upset Rosie is? I don’t think bashing each other about is exactly what she needs right now!” she said.
So much for that idea. I knew that I could do with bashing someone about to make me feel better.
It was pretty gloomy in Rosie’s room. We had to turn on the light even though it wasn’t very late. The dark sky and rain outside made it feel like November again.
I hate it when everyone is really quiet. I felt that I should say something to break the silence.
“The way that window smashed! It was way cool!” I said. The others shot me a look.
“Kenny!” warned Frankie. “Shut up can’t you?”
“Sorry for breathing!” I snapped back. What was wrong with everybody?
“It’s going to look like a squat isn’t it?” mumbled Rosie through her tears.
“What do you mean?” asked Lyndz.
“With the window boarded up. Everybody’s going to think that I live in some run-down shack,” Rosie wailed.
“Don’t be silly!” I said. “It’ll only be for one night, then someone can replace the window tomorrow, or Monday at the latest. No one’s even going to notice it.” Rosie stopped crying.
“Actually Rosie, you look pretty awful,” I laughed. “We’ll have to do something about those red eyes. It’s just not a good look for you, darling!” The others laughed too.