“You’re on!”
“Hey, Fliss – way to go!” yelled Kenny, slapping her on the back. “Follow me for the Bucking Bronco challenge!”
She led us up the yard to the small paddock by the gate. A small fence had been put up in the shape of a square, and the grass inside was covered by blue crash-mats. A metal horse was standing in the middle of it. There was no-one else there, apart from Stuart and the same blonde girl I’d seen him with earlier.
When Stuart saw us, he groaned.
“I wondered when you lot were going to show up. This is my kid sister, Lyndsey.” He blushed and smiled at the blonde girl. “And Lyndz, this is Sam!”
“Sam!” I yelled. “I thought Sam was a boy! I mean, I can see you’re not, but …”
The others were all laughing at me, especially Sam.
“It’s all right, I know what you mean!” she grinned. “I’m glad Dad could lend you the Bucking Bronco. These are ace stables. I thought I might come here to have a ride myself.”
“Oh-oh, don’t get her started on horses!” Stuart groaned in mock despair. “I take it you want a go on here, then?”
“Not all of us,” Kenny explained. “Just Fliss and these two morons here.”
The M&Ms seemed a tiny bit over-awed because Stuart was there.
“Oh, OK. Who’s first then?” Stuart asked.
“Could I go?” Fliss whispered.
“Sure thing – on you go!”
It took Rosie and me ages to help Fliss get on the thing, weighed down as she was by all her petticoats. And she looked absolutely terrified as Stuart started it off.
“Hold on, Fliss!” we yelled.
“Keep it gentle, Stu!” I pleaded. “Fliss hates stuff like this!”
“Hey, that’s not fair – he’s got to do it the same for all of us!” Emma Hughes shouted indignantly.
Stuart shrugged and started to make the Bucking Bronco go faster and faster. Fliss slithered over the head, then fell back and clung on sideways over the saddle. She looked dead funny, but we knew we couldn’t laugh. When she finally tipped off, she looked exhausted.
“Well done, Fliss!” Frankie shouted. “You stayed on for seventy-two seconds. That’s not bad!”
Emily Berryman was up next. And you’ll never believe this, but she fell off after five seconds. I mean, how pathetic is that!
“You’ve got to stay on for over a minute, Hughes. What do you make of that?” Kenny called.
“Piece of cake!” she yelled back and clambered on to the horse.
“I hate her attitude!” Kenny sniffed. “I think we should teach her a lesson, don’t you? Can I have a go at controlling this thing, Stuart?”
“I don’t know about that!” Stuart sounded a bit unsure.
“Oh give her a go, she’s seen how it works!” laughed Sam, pushing my stupid brother out of the way. “I sense there’s quite a lot at stake here!”
Kenny gleefully grabbed hold of the joystick controller and made the Bronco spin. It went slowly at first and you could see Hughesy looking really smug. Then Kenny speeded it up so all you could see was a blur of legs and hair. Then she slowed it down, then speeded it up. Then it started twirling and whirling, and although Emma was still clinging on, she was going greener and greener.
“I think you’d better stop it, Kenny!” said Frankie anxiously.
“No way!” laughed Kenny wildly.
But she didn’t have to stop it, because Emma Hughes suddenly flew off, stumbled to her feet – and threw up all over the mats.
“Yeuch!” we all groaned.
“That was your fault, McKenzie!” snarled Emily Berryman, who had gone to comfort her friend. “We’re gonna get you for that!”
“Yeah, yeah!” laughed Kenny. “You and whose army! Right then – I feel like a linedance. What about the rest of you?”
We ran giggling up to the yard, where country and western music had just struck up. Fliss’s mum was in the middle of the front row, clutching a bottle of champagne and wearing a big smile.
“Look what I won, darling!” She waved the bottle at Fliss. “And Andy won the lassoing competition too, so we’re really cleaning up today!”
“Maybe we should make her clean up Hughesy’s sick, then!” mumbled Rosie. The rest of us cracked up, but fortunately Fliss hadn’t heard.
The line-dancing was great fun, apart from being trampled by Kenny’s great fairy feet. She has no sense of direction, that girl, but at least she was enthusiastic.
After a bit, we noticed that we were being watched by the M&Ms.
“They’re obviously too scared to join in!” Fliss grinned.
“Well, we wouldn’t want any more accidents, would we?” Frankie smirked.
But still, there was something about their expressions that made me uneasy.
After the line-dancing it was almost time for the campfire cookout. Dad, Frankie’s dad and Andy were in their element, pulling out jacket potatoes which had been roasting in the fire, doling out beans from great tin billy-cans and handing round sizzling sausages.
“Now eat up, y’all. There’s plenty more cooking round that there fire. Yes siree!” Dad was on top form.
“You’re dad’s really sad, Collins!” hissed Emma Hughes as she walked past us with a steaming plate piled high. “I’d be embarrassed if he was my father.”
“Ignore her, Lyndz,” Frankie told me. “She’s only trying to wind you up.”
“I can’t believe she’s eating so much,” Fliss sniffed. “I can never face a mouthful if I’ve just been sick.”
“I’m sure that’s her second helping too,” Rosie said.
“Greedy pig!” snorted Kenny.
After they’d eaten, people soon began to drift away.
“Don’t forget the pony trek tomorrow if you’re interested,” Mrs McAllister reminded everyone as they left.
She certainly seemed much happier when she turned to us at last.
“Well, thank you girls – the day’s been a great success! I’ve had lots of new people booking lessons and most of my old clients have come back too.”
“Great!”
“Yes, thank you for all your help!” Mrs Chandri came over to us. “You can enjoy your sleepover now, once we’ve got all this lot cleared away.”
We looked round. There were discarded cups and plates everywhere.
“A couple of your friends, Emma and Emily, helped to clear a few things away, which was very good of them,” Mrs Chandri continued.
We looked at each other. She must have been talking about the M&Ms! They certainly weren’t our friends and they certainly weren’t good. Something was wrong. Very wrong…
“Maybe they were just trying to get into Mrs Chandri’s good books or something,” Rosie suggested. “You know how they like to suck up to people.”
That was certainly true, but I still couldn’t help feeling there was more to their sudden show of helpfulness. We looked around, but they’d definitely gone. In fact there were only our parents left, and they were on the point of going home too.
“We’ve killed the fire,” Dad told us, “so there’s no danger of it spreading.”
“That’s good!” Mrs McAllister smiled. “I couldn’t face any more burnt buildings, thank you very much!”
“You will be all right, won’t you Felicity?” her mother asked anxiously. “I’m still not happy about you staying in that barn by yourselves.”
“It’s perfectly safe and I’m just next door,” Mrs McAllister reassured her. “Besides, they’ve got their own protection in there. No harm will come to them, I promise.”
Our own protection? I looked round, but the others looked as puzzled as I was.
Fliss’s mum still didn’t look convinced, but Andy steered her away.
“Callum’s staying with a friend, you’ve got a bottle of champagne, and I’ve got a pass to rent a free video,” he grinned. “We might as well have a good night in.”
Mrs Sidebotham giggled, gave Fliss a kiss an
d almost skipped away.
“Ah, love’s young dream!” sighed Dad, making everyone laugh. “Right you lot, try not to frighten the horses or keep Mrs McAllister awake. I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon after the pony trek. Be good!”
When we’d all said goodbye to our parents, we started to collect up the dirty plates. Mrs Chandri had put big plastic sacks all round the stable yard, so it was just a case of throwing all the paper plates into them. Still, it was pretty yucky.
“I hate looking at cold baked beans,” sniffed Rosie, screwing up her nose.
“I hate baked beans, full stop,” groaned Kenny. Ever since she sat in a baked-bean bath after our scavenger hunt last month, she hasn’t been able to look a bean in the eye!
We were all pretty relieved when we’d cleared up the last of the plates and cups. After waving goodbye to Mrs Chandri, we looked at each other excitedly.
“It’s sleepover time!”
We couldn’t wait to get into the barn.
“What did you mean about us having our own protection?” Fliss asked Mrs McAllister, who was leading the way.
“You’ve got Alfie, of course!” she smiled, flinging open the door. “He’s better than a guard dog!”
“Oh no!” Fliss groaned. “I thought he’d be gone by now. I can’t sleep with him in here!”
Mrs McAllister seemed a bit put out.
“Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to. His stable is full of the sound equipment which is being collected tomorrow morning. I couldn’t risk him going in there. Besides, he’s a touch lame at the moment and I wanted to stable him where I could keep an eye on him. That’s why he’s not down on Mr Brocklehurst’s farm.”
“So that’s why he wasn’t out in the field with the others earlier!” It all suddenly made sense.
“I just took him for a short walk around whilst you were eating,” Mrs McAllister explained. “And don’t worry – he’s been mucked out so he’s not too smelly, are you boy?” She gently stroked Alfie’s muzzle.
Looking at Alfie’s big beautiful eyes, I couldn’t understand how anyone could be frightened of him. And looking at the others, they seemed to be softening too – even Fliss.
“Right then girls, have you got everything you need?” Mrs McAllister asked us.
We nodded.
“The light switch is just over here, but I’ve left a couple of torches by your things in case you need them. You can use the loos by the stable block, but remember that the security lights will come on whenever you cross the yard. Right then, sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning!”
She closed the stable door behind her and we were left alone. With Alfie.
“I’m not sure about this,” Fliss shivered. “I thought we’d be able to use Mrs McAllister’s bathroom, not some crummy old toilets next to the stables.”
“Hey, less of the crummy!” I dug her in the ribs. “They’re brand new, they are. You should be more polite.”
“Well I say we should use them now, before we get ready to snuggle down for the night,” Frankie piped up.
“Good idea, Batman!” I agreed.
We all grabbed our toilet bags and headed across the yard. Mrs McAllister was certainly right about the security lights. They nearly blinded us!
“No danger of intruders here then!” said Kenny admiringly
“Don’t!” warned Fliss, who looked absolutely petrified.
The toilet block next to the stables was very clean, but …
“It’s F…F…FREEZING!” squealed Rosie.
“Aaargh! The water’s like ice!” complained Kenny.
Now we don’t usually spend long on washing and brushing our teeth at the best of times. But I think that night we were all done in about two minutes flat. We ran back across the yard and the security lights came on full blast again. This time the horses, who were all back in their stables, poked their heads over the doors and started to neigh and snort.
“Crikey, is this noisy or what!” grumbled Rosie. “I’ll never sleep with that racket!”
“Will you lot ever stop complaining?” I demanded as soon as we were back in the barn again with the door closed behind us.
“So-rree!” echoed the others.
“Come on guys, we’re supposed to be having fun here! Let’s play a game or something to get us in the mood,” I suggested. “What about ‘last-one-on-the-haystack-has-to-kiss-Alfie’!”
We charged at the pile of hay in the corner, screaming and elbowing each other out of the way. I’ve never seen Fliss run so fast! You ought to have seen her plaits flying and the determined expression she had on her face! It made me laugh so much I couldn’t run. And then I got the dreaded hiccups. I collapsed on the floor, giggling and hiccuping.
“Kiss Alfie! Kiss Alfie!” the others chanted from the pile of hay.
I walked over to Alfie’s pen and tried to plant a smacker on his nose. But he was so scared by the dreadful noise I was making he turned away and I was left facing his bottom. It was dead funny and only made me hiccup more.
At least it had cheered the others up. They were really in a party mood now. We played chase, and our jousting game where we ride on each other’s backs and try to knock the other team over. But we had to stop that when Alfie looked as though he wanted to join in too.
We were just catching our breath when the security lights went on outside. There was a small window at one side of the barn and suddenly light came flooding through it.
“There must be an intruder!” squealed Fliss, leaping to her feet. “What are we going to do?”
“Maybe it’s a fox or something,” said Frankie calmly, although looking at her face I could tell that she was scared too.
We all huddled together. Then something started rattling the stable door. The handle started to turn. And we started to scream.
“AAARRRGGHH!”
“Goodness gracious me! What on earth’s all that racket about?” Mrs McAllister was standing there, looking really shocked and kind of angry.
“S…sorry. We thought you were an intruder!” I explained, when my heart had stopped thudding.
Mrs McAllister’s face softened.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. I just came to check that everything was all right!”
“We’re fine now,” Frankie reassured her.
“Well, I think maybe it’s time you were getting to sleep,” Mrs McAllister told us. “You’re going to have to be bright and alert for the pony trek tomorrow. I don’t want any of you being too tired to concentrate. Night then!”
She shut the door behind her.
“I…I’d forgotten about the pony trek,” Fliss stammered when she’d gone. “I might ring Mum up in the morning and ask her to pick me up early. I don’t want to do it.”
Kenny sighed in exasperation, but Rosie said quickly:
“I’m starving! Let’s have our midnight feast now!”
“Should we get undressed and into our sleeping bags first?” I asked.
“Nah!” said Frankie and Kenny together.
We each went to find the goodies we’d brought for our feast. But funnily enough, there didn’t seem to be as much as we’d thought.
“I could have sworn I’d brought more mini Kit-Kats,” grumbled Rosie. “You lot haven’t been eating them, have you?”
“No way. I brought crisps for all of us, and now there are only two packets left,” moaned Kenny.
We looked dejectedly at the depleted pile of goodies in front of us. Then Frankie suddenly piped up.
“I bet I know what’s happened to them! The M&Ms were in here before us, remember. I bet you anything it was them who stole our things.”
“The thieving little scum-bags!”
“No wonder Emma was sick!”
“Serves her right!”
“I’ll get them back for this!” Kenny hissed, stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth.
“Well maybe they think we’re even now, after the scavenger hunt,” I suggested. “At least it m
eans we won’t have to keep looking over our shoulders every five minutes to see what they’re up to.”
The others nodded.
“That’s true!”
We silently got undressed, with us having to shield Fliss from Alfie again! We laid loads of hay on the ground like a mattress. Then we dragged our sleeping bags into a circle, unzipped them and…
“UURGH, that’s GROSS!”
“I’m going to be sick. This is DISGUSTING!”
As soon as we’d got into our sleeping bags we all leapt out of them again. Our pyjamas were covered in nasty slimy congealed baked beans!
“The M&Ms!” we all said together.
“That explains why they kept getting extra plates of food!” said Rosie, trying her best to scrape the mess off her nightclothes.
“And why they were so keen to help Mrs Chandri to clean up!” I reminded the others.
“They’ve done us good and proper this time!” sighed Frankie. “We can’t sleep in our sleeping bags, we’ve no blankets, and we’re miles from home. Brilliant!”
We huddled together on the pile of hay in the corner.
“Anybody got any suggestions?”
Nobody said anything for ages. Then Kenny said clearly and menacingly:
“You know what this means, don’t you? This means full-out WAR!”
But before we could even begin to get back at the M&Ms, we had to get some sleep. But that looked impossible. How on earth could we get any sleep when our sleeping bags were ruined?
“We’ll have to put our clothes back on. At least they’ll keep us warm,” Frankie suggested.
But once we were back in our jeans and jumpers, we still had the problem of what we were going to lie on.
“I know!” I leapt up. “What about lying on horse blankets?”
“What about telling Mrs McAllister what’s happened and seeing if we can sleep in her house?” mumbled Fliss wearily. “Or better still, phoning for our parents to collect us!”
“Where’s your spirit of adventure, Fliss?” snapped Kenny. “It’ll only panic our parents if we ring now. And Mrs McAllister would never trust us to do anything again if she thought we’d messed this up.”
Sleepover Girls on the Range Page 5
