Annabel's Perfect Party

BOOK: Annabel's Perfect Party
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The
Series

Becky's Terrible Term

Annabel's Perfect Party

Katie's Big Match

Becky's Problem Pet

Annabel's Starring Role

Katie's Secret Admirer

Becky's Dress Disaster

 

 

Emily Feather and the Enchanted Door

Emily Feather and the Secret Mirror

Emily Feather and the Chest of Charms

Emily Feather and the Starlit Staircase

Catmagic, Dogmagic, Hamstermagic, Rabbitmagic,

Birdmagic, Ponymagic, Mousemagic

 

www.holly-webb.com

Chapter One

It was Monday lunchtime at Manor Hill School. The dining hall was full to bursting and
really
noisy. Mrs Andrews, the teacher on duty, had already had a go at shushing everybody, but now she'd more or less given up. After a weekend when they could talk as much as they wanted, and then a morning in school where they were supposed to be practically silent,
lunchtime was a chance to chat – and everyone was making the most of it.

The Ryan triplets had bagged one of the choice tables in the corner by the windows. It had a good view of anything that might be going on in the rest of the dining hall, and the playground. And it was as far away from Mrs Andrews as possible. They'd had to make a dash for it right under the noses of some very snotty Year Eight girls, and there'd been some serious muttering along the lines of
“How dare they?” and “Little
brats
!”
But they didn't care. (Well, Becky did, but she'd just stared very hard at the kitten on her lunchbox and pretended not to hear.) Katie and Annabel had no such qualms, and gazed back at the Year Eights, Annabel with a sunny “So what?” smile, while Katie folded her arms and cheekily dared them to make her move.

“Coward!” teased Annabel cheerfully, as she banged her lunchbox down next to Becky, and flounced on to a chair. Katie gave the Year Eights one last warning glare and sat down too. “Yeah, Becky, honestly – what did you think they were going to do to us?”

Becky flushed scarlet. “It's not fair – you two are so good at arguing! I'm brilliant at it too – half an hour after whoever it is has left I've got the best comebacks. It's just that at the time I can't think of anything to say.”

“Never mind,” comforted Annabel. “You've got us to stick up for you.”

Becky sighed. It was true, but sometimes she wished she could manage without her sisters – if she really had to.

Saima, Megan and Fran came up with their lunch trays, loaded with grim-looking school dinners.

“Excellent,” said Saima happily, “I thought Marie and her lot were going to make you move.”

The triplets grinned to each other as their friends set down their trays. Then Annabel made a face. “Fran, what
is
that?” she complained, pointing at the plate of something-and-chips on Fran's tray.

“Well . . . chips.”

“And?”

“I don't know,” Fran admitted sadly. “I was kind of dithering and the Haggis just dumped it on my plate. It
could
be shepherd's pie. That was on the menu, anyway.” Everybody looked over at the counter and giggled. They could see why Fran hadn't argued. Mrs Hagan, aka the Haggis, was the head dinner lady, and she was really
fierce.


I
know what that is,” said a voice over Fra
n's shoulder. It was Jack, a boy from their class, on his way to the next table. “It's haggis – Mrs Hagan's speciality. You know what haggis actually is, don't you?” he added, grinning at the girls
.

“No,” sighed Fran, “but I have a feeling you're going to tell me. Go on.”

“Weeelll . . . basically, it's bits. Bits of sheep. But the really
special
thing. . .” Jack paused, enjoying the moment. “The
best
bit, is that it's all wrapped up in a sheep's
stomach
.
And that's what that is.” He beamed at Fran, who looked down at her dinner in dismay.

“Ohh. Are you hungry, Jack?” she asked hopefully, as everyone groaned and made sick noises.

“No. Way.” He chortled. “You're not getting rid of it that easily. Just eat the chips from round the edges, and try not to get any of the stomachy
bits. . .” Then he went to sit down, still giggling.

“He is such
a liar,” said Becky reassuringly. “I'm sure it's shepherd's pie, Fran, honestly. Jack's just teasing, you know what he's like.”

“Hmm.” Fran dug her fork into whatever-it-was, and everyone watched, fascinated, as she lifted it to her mouth. And then stopped. “No. You're probably right, Becky, but I just can't. Lucky I bought a Mars bar on the way to school this morning.” She wiped her fork on the edge of the plate and carefully started eating the very furthest chips.

Saima and Megan dug into their healthy salads (Saima's mum was very strict about
healthy eating, and Megan took healthy eating
very seriously because of football training) and the triplets opened up their lunchboxes.

“Wow!” Katie sounded gobsmacked.

“What?” Annabel asked, as everyone's ears pricked up.

“Mum's actually got our lunches right – look, she's given me peanut butter instead of your disgusting tuna like she usually does. And Becky's actually got her boring old cheese.”

“Weird. I'm quite used to having to swap it all round,” said Annabel through a mouthful of tuna.


Will
you not breathe that stuff over me! Uurgh!” Katie reeled back from tuna fumes, fanning her face in mock disgust.

A nasty snigger floated over from the next table – someone else had obviously been listening in on their conversation. The triplets and their mates united immediately in sending a freezing glare at Amy Mannering. It was a close match between Amy and super-brat Max Carter for the person in their class that they most loved to hate. At that moment Amy was winning – she was nearer.

Amy tossed her long, wavy, strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder, and the triplets rolled their eyes at each other in disgust. Amy was spoilt, stupid and seriously stuck-up – in their humble opinion. Certain that she had the entire table's attention, Amy continued her conversation with her hangers-on, Emily and Cara.

“Wasn't the girl playing Eliza brilliant? She had
such
a gorgeous voice. My singing teacher” – and here Annabel rolled her eyes again, although secretly she was very jealous, as she would have loved
to have singing lessons – “says that I can start working on some of the songs from
My Fair Lady
.
I'm so glad we got to see it.”

“It was a great trip, Amy. You're so lucky,” smarmed Emily. “And we were so close to the stage – you could see everything!”

“The restaurant was fab too,” Cara chimed in. She prodded her pizza slice in disgust. “A bit different from this!”

“Oh well, of
course
,”
Amy said patronizingly, flicking a quick glance round to check that her audience was still with her. “My dad believes birthdays are
so
special. And as I'm an only child – well, he doesn't really have to scrimp and save, does he?” She smirked, carefully looking anywhere but at the triplets. “It's not as if there were
three
of me. . .”

“Thank God,” muttered Katie, and the rest of her table burst out laughing.

“There are three of her,” Becky pointed out. “Emily and Cara are just Amy without the hair.”

“Forget them,” advised Saima, firmly. “I'm sick of waiting for you three to tell us. Come on, why were you all so excited this morning? What have you been looking so secretive for all day?”

Amy and co were immediately dismissed as Fran and Megan leant in to hear the news that had made the triplets giggly all through morning classes, and positively hyper at break.

The triplets exchanged glances, their dark blue eyes sparkling with mischief in an expression that made them look more identical than ever. “Weelll. . .” said Annabel slowly.

“What?” snapped Megan and Fran, together.

“It's a secret. Triplets-only. Sorryyy!” cackled Annabel, enjoying their furious faces.

“Annabel,” purred Saima sweetly. “We all
know
how ticklish you are. You really, really want to stop messing about and tell us now – don't you?”

“OK! OK!” gasped Annabel, already feeling her hysterical laughter coming on. “Can we tell them?” she begged her sisters.

“I don't see why not – you're not going to be able to shut up about it for much longer anyway,” sighed Katie, and Becky nodded.

“Dad's coming home!” squeaked Annabel delightedly, “for all of half-term! Isn't that excellent?”

Saima, Megan and Fran understood perfectly just how excellent it was. The triplets didn't see their father very often as their parents were divorced and their dad worked abroad as an engineer. At the moment he was working on an irrigation project in Egypt, and the triplets hadn't seen him since early in the summer holidays.

“You'll all have to come round,” volunteered Becky unexpectedly. The shyest of the triplets, she tended to leave ideas like this to her sisters. “Fran and Megan haven't met Dad yet,” she pointed out, smiling at Fran. The triplets had known Saima from their old school, but they'd only got to know Megan and Fran since starting at Manor Hill that term. Fran shared Becky's complete soppiness over anything furry – especially dogs – and was the first real friend Becky'd had apart from her sisters. She was desperate for Fran to meet Dad and Dad to meet Fran. Describing her new mate in emails just wasn't the same. She was sure they'd get on.

“Definitely!” agreed Katie. “He'll really want to meet you. We can play football, Megan, he's really good, he taught me loads.”

The girls beamed at each other, full of their plan. Half-term was only two weeks away – no time at all. The triplets munched their sandwiches happily, and Fran went back to poking dismally at her plate of sheepy bits.

Annabel gazed dreamily over the dining hall, planning shopping trips where Dad bought her and Saima the coolest clothes ever. Slowly chomping a mouthful of tuna and lettuce, her eyes fell on Amy and her thoughts turned to birthdays. Birthdays! Suddenly her eyes snapped wide open, she sat bolt upright and yelped. Or she would have done, except she still had the mouthful of tuna and it went down the wrong way. The yelp came out as a strangled choking noise, and she spat gobbets of tuna all over her sister, then looked at what she'd done in absolute horror (for all of two seconds).

“Bel! Oh, you are so disgusting!” hissed Katie furiously. “Uurrgh, get it
off
me! I'm going to stink of tuna all afternoon. You did that on purpose, you, you—” she became aware of Mrs Andrews's beady eyes zeroing in on their spat, and finished off in a restrained hiss, “you
thing
!”

“Shut up shut up shut up!” chattered Annabel in excitement, flapping her hands around like a mad mime artist, and only just missing Becky who was trying to pass Katie some napkins to mop herself up with. “I've just had The Most Brilliant Idea!”

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