Vive le Sleepover Club! (3 page)

“I’m sure I heard noises coming from that attic last night!”

Frankie sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. It was morning, and the sunshine was streaming through the windows. We all sat up in our beds and stared at her.

“You’re making it up!” Fliss said fearfully.

I hadn’t heard anything at all. By the time we’d unpacked and then had something to eat, we were all pretty tired and I’d slept really soundly.

“No, I did!” Frankie insisted. “It was just
after we’d gone to bed, but all the rest of you were snoring your heads off!”

“I reckon you’re having us on,” Kenny said.

“No, I’m not!” Frankie insisted, but we all chucked our pillows in her direction and then jumped on her.

We were starving, so we dashed down to breakfast at eight o’clock sharp. The rest of the school party were just coming in too, along with the teachers, and there were a few other guests in the dining room, mostly Japanese and British tourists. We managed to bag a table on our own, well away from the M&Ms and the teachers.

“Hey, look!” said Kenny as the grim-faced maid, who was called Chantal, brought some plates over to our table. “Croissants! Brilliant!”

Chantal gave us a dirty look as we all dived on the plate of croissants.

“Mmm, this beats Coco-Pops and burnt toast any day!” Lyndz said through a mouthful of crumbs.

While we were eating, Pascal came in.

“Hi, Pascal! Over here!” Kenny waved at him, and he came over to our table. “How are you?”

Pascal nodded and smiled, obviously not understanding a word.
“Avez-vous bien dormi la nuit derniére?

We all looked blank.

“What’s he saying?” Lyndz asked.

“Haven’t a clue.” I said.

Kenny tried again. “What – did – you – say – Pascal?” she said in a really slow voice, as if she was talking to a two-year-old.

“Oh, don’t be daft, Kenny!” Frankie scoffed. “He’s not going to understand, however slowly you speak!”

“Maybe we can ask Mrs Weaver,” I suggested. “She speaks good French.”

“Not a good idea, Rosie-Posie,” said Kenny “He might tell her some of the English we’ve been teaching him!”

We all giggled. Meanwhile, Pascal still looked a bit confused, although he was smiling.

“OK, Pascal, say this,” Kenny told him gleefully “‘Mrs Weaver is a—’”

“Kenny!” we all hissed frantically. “She’s coming over!”

“We’re leaving at nine sharp for sightseeing, girls.” Mrs Weaver stopped by our table as we stared innocently at her. “So make sure you’re on the minibus by then.”

“Yes, Mrs Weaver,” we said together.

“That was close!” I breathed as the teacher went back to her table. “You’d better be careful what you teach Pascal, Kenny!”

“Hey, Pascal,” Kenny said suddenly. “You know that staircase by our door – where does it go to?”

“Comment?”
Pascal gave us a blank look.

“That staircase,” Kenny began again, but Frankie nudged her.

“Give it up, Kenny!” she said. “He doesn’t know what you’re going on about!”

“Oh, well, we can find out for ourselves, anyway,” Kenny said as Pascal went out. “I can’t wait to go exploring tonight when we have our sleepover!”

The first morning of our visit to Paris was really cool! After breakfast we all piled on to the minibus, and Mrs Jackson drove us down to the River Seine, where we went on a boat trip. The boat took us along the river, past some of the most famous buildings in Paris. We saw the big cathedral, Notre Dame, which stands on an island in the middle of the river. The guide told us that Paris had started out there as a very small town. Then we saw the Louvre and the Musée D’Orsay, which are two really famous museums, and loads of other interesting things. Then, right at the end, we came to what we had all been waiting for.

“The Eiffel Tower!” Fliss squealed excitedly as we all stared at the Tower stretching right up to the sky.

“It’s huge!” I gasped, craning my neck back. It was so tall, it was difficult to see it all in one go.

“We can go up it, can’t we, Mrs Weaver?” Kenny asked eagerly as we climbed off the boat. “The guide said that we can go right to the top!”

Mrs Weaver smiled. “Of course we can,” she said. “You get a wonderful view of Paris from up there.”

“I can’t wait!” Kenny said eagerly, and the rest of us nodded. Then Kenny nudged me. “Look at the Queen and the Goblin!” she whispered.

Emma and Emily were staring up at the Eiffel Tower, and looking a bit sick. I guess neither of them was very keen on heights!

“How high is the Eiffel Tower, Mrs Weaver?” Kenny asked innocently “I didn’t hear what the guide said.”

“Oh, well, let me see.” Mrs Weaver took out her guidebook. “The Tower is 300.51 metres tall.”

Emily whispered something to Emma.

“Oh, and this is interesting,” Mrs Weaver went on. “If the wind’s very strong, apparently the Tower sways from side to side!”

The M&Ms looked up anxiously at the sky, and the Sleepover Club started to giggle.

“If anyone doesn’t want to go up the Tower,” Mrs Weaver called as she ushered us across
the square to join the queue at the entrance, “they can wait down here with Mr Tate.”

“So are you going to wimp out, Emma?” Frankie asked scornfully. “Or are you coming up the Eiffel Tower with the rest of us?”

“Of course we are!” Emma retorted haughtily, but her voice was a bit wobbly. I guess she didn’t want to look like a coward in front of us, but she was as white as a ghost!

“Actually I might wait down here,” Emily began timidly, but she soon shut up as the Queen gave her one of her snooty looks.

“Never mind, Emily,” I said. “You and Emma can hang on to each other if it gets a bit windy!”

“Ha ha, very funny!” snapped Emma, pushing into the queue ahead of us.

“The Tower won’t really sway about if it gets windy, will it?” Fliss asked nervously.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” said Kenny, but Fliss didn’t look too convinced.

“Mrs Weaver wouldn’t let us go up there if it was dangerous, Fliss,” I said. “Would she, Frankie?”

Frankie wasn’t listening. “Hey, look over there!” she exclaimed. “Somebody’s filming something!”

Immediately we all looked over to where Frankie was pointing, our eyes out on stalks. Sure enough, there was a large group of people in the square, and some of them were holding TV cameras.

“Maybe it’s a news story,” Fliss suggested.

“Yeah, maybe they’ve come to film the Eiffel Tower blowing around in the wind!” Kenny suggested wickedly.

“Oh, shut up, Kenny!” Fliss wailed, giving her a shove.

“No, hang on a minute! Look! It’s them! It’s her!” Lyndz could hardly get the words out because she was suddenly so excited. “It’s
Westwood Street!”

“What!”
I gasped.

Westwood Street
was our absolute
favourite
soap back home. It was set in a street in the middle of London, and we never,
ever
missed a single episode. In fact, we’d all asked our mums to tape it while we were
away! Our most favourite actor was Danni Hart. She played a teenager called Billie Johnson who was always getting into trouble – a bit like the Sleepover Club, I guess!

“She’s right!” Frankie spluttered. “There’s Danni Hart!” And our eyes nearly popped out as we recognised the actress with her familiar cropped blonde hair. She was wearing a black leather jacket, and she was chatting to some of the other actors, who also looked familiar.

“That’s Whatsisname – Chris Hamilton!” Fliss stuttered.

“And Liam Darcy!” Kenny added. “They must be filming some scenes for
Westwood Street
in Paris! Cool or what!”

By now the rest of the kids from our school had sussed what was going on, and the M&Ms looked as if they were about to wet themselves with excitement. None of the other tourists in the queue looked that bothered though. I guess they didn’t get
Westwood Street
in Japan!

“Right, let’s try that scene again,” we
heard a man shout. He must have been the director or something.

“I’m not ready yet,” Danni Hart called back with a frown.

The queue moved on a bit, and even though we were dying to go up the Tower, we didn’t really want to move. We wanted to watch the filming.

“I wish I could get Danni Hart’s autograph!” Fliss sighed as we shuffled forward reluctantly.

“I could get it for you!” Kenny boasted.

“Oh, behave, Kenny!” Frankie said with a grin. “Don’t be so daft!”

Kenny stuck her tongue out at her. “Who’s being daft? I
could
get it!”

“How?” Fliss asked. “We’re about to go up the Eiffel Tower!”

“And Mrs Weaver won’t let you,” I added at the same time.

Kenny shrugged. “So what? I bet I can do it!”

“Go on, then!” Fliss said teasingly. “I
dare
you!”

At that moment Emma Hughes turned
round, and gave Kenny a smug grin. “I dare you too!” she said smoothly.

Well, you know what Kenny’s like. The word
dare
to Kenny is like a red rag to a bull!

“Right, you’re on!” Kenny snapped.

“OK!” Emma agreed immediately while the rest of us looked at us each other in alarm. We’d only been winding Kenny up about the autograph - she didn’t have a chance of getting it with Mrs Weaver in full view! And anyway, the actors were in the middle of filming - there was no way they’d stop to give autographs.

“Fine!” Kenny retorted airily.

“Kenny, this isn’t a good idea!” Frankie warned her.

“It’s a stupid idea!” Fliss added.

“Yeah, don’t take the bet!” Lyndz and I said together.

“Too late, she already did!” the Queen pointed out smugly. Then she turned to Kenny and raised her eyebrows. “Unless you want to pull out of it, of course?”

“No way!” Kenny said firmly, and she glared at the rest of us. “It’ll be cool - you’ll see!”

We didn’t think it would be cool at all, but we kept quiet because Kenny’s our mate and we had to stand by her.

“Right, let’s sort out the details,” Emma said, grinning all over her face. “You’re going to get Danni Hart’s autograph for me. And if you don’t, you’re going to give me all the Leicester City autographs that you collected last season!”

We all gasped, and even Kenny did a bit of a double-take then. She’d spent
ages
getting every single one of the players’ signatures. She was dead proud of them too. And the Queen knew it.

“What do you want with those autographs?”
Frankie said indignantly. “You don’t even like football!”

Emma shrugged. “That’s not the point! Well, Kenny?”

“All right,” Kenny snapped. “And if I
do
get it, you and Emily have to be our slaves for the rest of the holiday! What do you say?”

“No way!” Emily began gruffly, but the Queen gave her a dig in the ribs.

“Don’t be so silly, Emily! There’s no way we can lose!”

The Goblin didn’t look very convinced, but the Queen shut her up, like she always did.

“Fine.” Emma Hughes turned to Kenny with a smug smile. “Go and get the autograph, then!”

“I’m going!” Kenny stood on tiptoe and checked where Mrs Weaver was. She was in front of us in the queue, and she was reading the guidebook. She had her head bent over it, and wasn’t looking round. Mrs Jackson was in front of her, and she was talking to some of the other kids. “You lot cover for me!”

“Hurry up, Kenny!” Fliss said nervously.

“It’ll be easy-peasy!” Kenny declared confidently and slid out of the queue, while the rest of the Sleepover Club watched anxiously

“That’s what
she
thinks!” Emma grinned.

It was then that I noticed just what the Queen was grinning about. We’d been so excited about the filming before, that we hadn’t noticed there were some people with walkie-talkies who were politely but firmly keeping passers-by away from the scene of the filming.

“Look!” I nudged Frankie. “Kenny’s never going to get past them!”

“If anyone can, Kenny can!” Frankie retorted, but she didn’t sound too hopeful either.

Kenny sidled across the square towards the filming. She was heading straight for Danni Hart. Unfortunately, she was just about a few hundred yards away when someone called, “Right, let’s try that scene again,” and the actors moved into position.

“She’s blown it!” Lyndz hissed as we all moved closer to the entrance to the Tower. “She’ll never get it now!”

But we could hardly believe what happened next! Kenny must’ve decided to try and get Danni’s autograph quickly before the filming started and before the people with walkie-talkies noticed her. Anyway, she rushed forward, tripped over a cable and fell SPLAT! on the ground…
right
in front of Danni Hart.

Danni was so surprised, she jumped backwards and bumped into one of the crew, who was holding a plastic cup of coffee. It went everywhere!

“I’m soaked!” Danni Hart screamed, her face red with fury. “Look at my jacket!”

“Oh no! Poor Kenny!” Fliss gasped.

We all watched, horrified, except for the Queen and the Goblin. Of course, they were in fits and holding on to each other for support. Meanwhile, poor old Kenny was struggling to her feet, looking
completely
embarrassed.

“What on earth is this idiot playing at?” Danni yelled, glaring at Kenny. “Someone get her out of here!”

Suddenly something flashed past us like a bolt of lightning. Mrs Weaver was on the warpath!

“Laura McKenzie! Get over here this minute!”

Mrs Weaver raced over to the film crew, took Kenny by the arm and began apologising to everyone. We couldn’t hear what she was saying though, because Danni Hart was still yelling. I was going off her fast. She didn’t seem very nice at all!

“Looks like we’ve won, Emily!” Emma giggled triumphantly. “High five!”

“Oh, shut up!” Frankie snapped as the Queen and the Goblin slapped palms. “It’s not over yet!”

But it was. A grim-faced Mrs Weaver was marching a sheepish Kenny back over to the queue. “Stand here where I can keep an eye on you, Laura,” she said in a freezing tone. “And if there’s any more of this sort of
behaviour, you’ll spend tomorrow at the hotel writing lines!”

“Yeah, write ‘I must not spill coffee over Danni Hart’ a thousand times!” the Queen whispered to the Goblin, and they both sniggered.

“Are you OK, Kenny?” Lyndz whispered as Mrs Weaver stomped off to buy our tickets for the Tower.

“Yeah, I just feel like a prize prat!” Kenny groaned. “And Danni Hart was really gross – I don’t even
want
her autograph now!”

“Yeah, she was a bit over the top, wasn’t she?” I agreed.

“She went mad!” Kenny said, her face red with embarrassment. “I mean, it was only one tiny little cup of coffee!”

“Oh, Kenny,” Emma called silkily “I’ll have those Leicester City autographs as soon as we get back home, then.”

“Hang on just one little minute, Rat-Face!” Kenny glared at her. “I haven’t given up yet!”

The Queen and the Goblin stared at her, and so did the Sleepover Club.

“What are you talking about?” Emma screeched. “You didn’t get the autograph, so we win!”

“Yeah, but I still might.” Kenny looked even more determined. “I heard some of the crew talking, and it turns out they’re going to be filming in some more of the tourist places in Paris. So we might see them again!”

“Oh, that’s totally stupid!” Emily began indignantly. “We won the bet fair and square!”

But the Queen nudged her. “No, if Kenny wants to keep the bet going, that’s cool,” she said with an evil smile. “But there are a few more conditions. If you don’t get it by the time we go home, I want those autographs,
and
your new Leicester City shirt!”

“Done!” Kenny snapped immediately.

Frankie, Lyndz, Fliss and I groaned. Kenny was getting in deeper by the minute! But then I had a brilliant idea. It was obvious! We could forge Danni Hart’s signature! Emma would never know…

“And don’t even
think
about forging Danni Hart’s signature!” the Queen went on. “We
want to see you get the autograph in person - or it has to be on an official
Westwood Street
publicity photo!”

Kenny nodded airily. “You’re gonna lose this one, Emma!” she said confidently as Mrs Weaver ushered us into the Tower.

“Kenny, are you
crazy?”
Frankie hissed as we began to climb the stairs. “You’ve played right into Emma’s hands!”

“Yeah, Mrs Weaver won’t let you go within a hundred metres of the filming!” Fliss pointed out. “Even if we
do
see them again!”

“And the film crew won’t let you get near Danni Hart either,” Lyndz added.

“And Danni Hart will probably run off if she sees you coming,” I said.

“Oh, shut up, you lot!” Kenny snapped. “I’m not going to let Emma Hughes get one over on me. It’ll be fine!”

Then she looked down and gasped. “Hey, look at this – we can see right down to the ground!”

It was a pretty weird experience going up the Eiffel Tower. The staircases were wide
and sturdy, but you weren’t
inside
anything – only within the open framework of the Tower. We went up to the highest floor in a lift, and the view was awesome! Even Mrs Weaver stopped looking grim, and started to have a good time. Then we went down to the lower floors to look at the shops. There was a Post Office too, and we all sent postcards of the Tower home to our mums and dads. Frankie even sent one to her baby sister Isobel, even though Izzy’s only three months old!

“That was fantastic!” Lyndz sighed as we all headed back to the hotel, clutching our souvenirs.

“I hope my mum likes this,” I said, looking at the miniature model of the Eiffel Tower I’d bought.

“I’ve got some French chocolate for our sleepover tonight,” Fliss then announced, showing us an outsized bar.

“Excellent!” Frankie said. “Let’s see what we can get tonight when we have dinner.”

“We could nick some French bread and
some cheese and butter,” Lyndz suggested. “What d’you think, Kenny?”

“Huh?” Kenny was deep in thought. “Yeah. Fine. Whatever.”

“You’re worrying about getting that autograph, aren’t you?” Frankie said as we went into the hotel.

“Nah, ’course not!” But we could tell Kenny was just putting a brave face on it. “I’ll get it, no problem.”

“Yeah, ‘course you will!” we all agreed, but we couldn’t help pulling faces at each other behind Kenny’s back. It wasn’t going to be easy…

But when we went upstairs to our room, we had something else to worry about. As Frankie unlocked the door, she gave a little scream.

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?” we chorused, all trying to push our way into the room at once. But Frankie got in first, and rushed over to her bed. There was a piece of paper lying on her pillow. It was a note.