by Louis Catt
“Hey, Frankie!” I leapt to my feet. I’d suddenly had an amazing flash of inspiration. “We could still use it! We could make a trail of blood drops!”
Frankie’s eyes shone. “Wicked! A trail of gruesome spots leads the detectives in and out of the bushes and trees. In and out they hurried, until they found—”
“A body!” We both yelled together, and then we collapsed, laughing.
We did a fantastic job – we made the most life-like trail of blood you ever saw. It started just round the corner of the house, because I didn’t want Mum telling us to wash it away before we’d shown Rosie, Lyndz and Fliss. We started with a few drops, and then a few more – and then a big puddle. Actually, we didn’t mean to make it quite so big but the plate slipped.
Frankie said it didn’t matter. “We can pretend that’s where the victim tried to pull the knife out of his back,” she said.
It looked wonderfully ghoulish.
We put a few more drops on the bushes, but there wasn’t much mixture left to do anything else.
“We ought to make a body, and half-hide it under the bushes,” I said.
Frankie nodded. “Or we could just leave half a body!”
You can see why Frankie’s my very best friend. She likes blood and gore as much as I do!
After we’d finished the blood trail we took both boxes round the back of the house and dumped them in the bin. Quite a lot of the melted ice cream dribbled out on the way, but there wasn’t anything we could do about it. We couldn’t get back into the house to fetch any buckets of water or anything like that. If anyone said anything, it was all Molly’s fault.
As we wandered back to the front door Mum came walking up the path with some strange woman beside her – our new neighbour!
“This is our house,” Mum was saying. “It’s—” And then she saw us. Her jaw did the thunking open thing mine’s been doing for days, but the woman screamed. She really did! And she clutched at my mum!
Mum is made of steel. She put her jaw back in place, and glared at me. “Is this your idea of a Friday 13th joke?” she began. “Just look at the state you’re both in!”
She was right. Frankie and I did look rather gruesome. I suppose the beetroot mixture had got all over us while we were laying our trail.
“Mum,” I said. “Mum, it really and truly isn’t our fault – we got locked out and Molly wouldn’t let us back in!”
By the time we’d finished explaining what had happened, Mum was steaming mad with Molly, just as we’d hoped.
“That’s it!” she said. “There’s no way that young lady’s going out tonight. She’s grounded!”
Frankie and I gasped. That wasn’t part of the plan. Mum couldn’t do that – not tonight!
But she did. Even though I begged her not to. Even though Frankie begged her not to. We pleaded. We said it was all our fault. But it was no use. The new neighbour didn’t help, either. She kept going on about how dangerous it was, us two little girlies being outside with a manic burglar tramping round the area. That made up Mum’s mind. Molly was not going anywhere that night.
Frankie and I made faces at each other as we tipped soapy water over the front steps.
“If only the door hadn’t shut,” I said. “That was so unlucky.”
Frankie nodded. “Friday 13th,” she said. “Bad luck day!”
And it was only just beginning…
Mum realised how unfair it was that Molly being grounded had ruined our plans for the sleepover, so to make it up to us she said we could have the sleepover in Emma’s room – as long as we promised to be careful and not spoil anything.
But thanks to Molly the Monster we were only just getting ready to make our scary noises tape when Rosie arrived. We didn’t hear her, of course, because of the doorbell not working and Emma’s room being at the back of the house, so Molly came and told us Rosie had arrived. No, she wasn’t being nice to us. She was just being a creep because Mum had been so angry with her.
We both charged past Molly and rushed downstairs to see Rosie. Her bowl of spaghetti was super mega gross! It was a sort of horrible grey colour, and the currants looked exactly like dead flies… or even worse! We shoved it in the fridge, and dragged Rosie upstairs to help with the tape.
Emma has this totally fabulous stereo with a proper microphone and two tape decks, so we made one tape and then added more and more horrible noises on top. And we weren’t spoiling anything that belonged to Emma: I was using all my own tapes. We were just borrowing her equipment.
Rosie whispered into the microphone, and Frankie did her best ever ghostly wails. I squeaked the door and moaned and 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 try anyway,” Lyndz said.
“Mum’ll still be cooking,” I said. “We can go and look for the glue later. Anyway, there’s no hurry. Emma’s not back until Sunday night.”
Down in the hall the telephone began to ring. Someone – or something! – must have heard what I’d just said, because two minutes later Molly came thundering up the stairs and stuck her head round the door. “Emma’s got to come home tonight,” she said with a great big silly grin on her face. “Jade’s house has been burgled, and Emma can’t stay after all!”
Molly looked round Emma’s room at all the piled up furniture. “Ha! Looks like you’ll be in big trouble now!” And she flounced out.
Emma coming home? We stared at each other.
Fliss put on her drama queen face. “I knew it!” she said, and she waved her arms. “It’s because it’s Friday 13th! Everything’s bound to go wrong!”
“I’m going to ask Mum if it’s true,” I said, once I’d got over the shock. “The monster might have made it up – it’s just the low-down kind of trick she likes to play.”
As it turned out it was true – but it wasn’t quite as bad as Molly had made it sound. Emma couldn’t stay the night, but she and Jade had gone out to have a pizza, and Dad was going to collect her on the way back from his meeting.
“It’s going to be quite late, so Emma may as well sleep in your room with Molly tonight,” Mum said.
I heaved a huge sigh of relief – inside. Outside I just nodded. “OK,” I said.
Mum gave me a suspicious sort of look. “I hope you haven’t been making a mess up there,” she said. “Molly says you’ve been moving furniture.”
“We only moved things a little,” I said. “And we do that in my room.”
“Fine.” Mum went on stirring something in a saucepan. “Molly and I are eating with Dad, so you lot can do your feasting on green cake afterwards in peace.”
“Thanks, Mum, you’re the best,” I said, and gave her a hug.
I was going back up the stairs when I heard Dad coming in. I gave a quick wave over the banisters, and then shot back into Emma’s room to tell the others not to panic – yet!
“We can sort the room out in the morning,” I said.
Fliss was peering out of the window. “I’m sure I heard a strange noise,” she said. “Do you think there’s someone down there?” She was looking twitchy again.
“I expect it’s Dad,” I said. “He’s just come home.”
“Oh,” Fliss said, but she didn’t sound very convinced.
“Let’s go and see!” Frankie said, and she made a face at me behind Fliss’s back, and mouthed, “Blood trail!”
“Oh no!” Fliss squeaked. “We ought to stay inside!”
“It’ll be OK with all of us,” Lyndz said, and she grinned. “What burglar would take on the Sleepover Club?”
Even Fliss smiled a little. “I still don’t think we shou—” she began, but she didn’t sound so certain.
“Come on!” Lyndz grabbed her hand. “We can make sure it’s all clear down there while it’s still light! We’ll check out the bushes!”
“Only a mini burglar could hide in your garden,” Rosie said.
“That’s it!” I said. “The burglar’s only sixty centimetres tall – and that’s why no one’s found him yet!”
We were halfway down the stairs when Frankie suddenly stopped. “Sssh!” she said. “We sound like a herd of elephants! From now on we’ve got to go on tiptoe!”
“Tippytoe! Tippytoe! Hunting burglars! Here we go!” giggled Lyndz, and we got in a line and tiptoed down the rest of the stairs and out of the front door. (We made sure we left it on the latch this time. Frankie and I weren’t taking any more chances!)
It was beginning to get dark as we crept round the side of the house. Frankie was in front, then me, then Lyndz, then Rosie, and then Fliss.
“Tippytoe! Tippytoe! Tippytoe!” sang Lyndz, and we all tiptoed in time down the path, until—
“Look!” Frankie did her mega-thrill, over-the-top acting voice and stopped dead on the path.
We all crashed into each other, and somehow Fliss ended up at the front – so she saw the trail of blood before Lyndz or Rosie. And she screamed…
I think the rest of us were as frightened by Fliss’s scream as she was frig
htened by the blood. I know my heart gave a huge walloping leap inside my chest, and I heard Lyndz gasp beside me. When someone really truly screams for real, it’s not a nice noise at all – it’s really scary! And then Fliss turned and she ran back into the house, and of course we all tore after her.
If it had been me I think I’d have headed straight for the grown-ups, but Fliss didn’t – luckily for us. She zoomed up to Emma’s room, and when we got there she was shaking all over and trying to stuff her pyjamas into her bag.
“Fliss, what are you doing?” I asked.
She looked up, and her face was a horrible colour – completely grey-green. “I want to go home,” she said. “I saw blood all over your path! I want my mum! I’m scared!”
I looked at Frankie, and Frankie looked at me. “I’m really sorry, Fliss,” I said. “It wasn’t blood – it was just raspberry juice from Frankie’s pudding.”
“It melted when we were shut outside,” Frankie said. “And it seemed a pity to waste it all – so we trailed it round the path.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t blood?” Fliss still looked like a frightened rabbit, but at least she’d stopped shaking. She’d stopped trying to pack her pyjamas, too.
I suddenly remembered what Dad had told me about people who’d had a terrible fright. You should keep them warm, and if there’s no chance of them having any kind of internal injury, you should give them a warm drink.
“Hang on!” I said. “Frankie, put my duvet round Fliss!” and I rushed off downstairs.
Molly and Mum were just finishing eating, and Dad had made a pot of tea. Just the thing!
“Can I take a cup of tea up to Fliss?” I said. “She’s – she’s a bit cold.”
“I thought I heard you go outside,” Mum said. “Don’t go out again, though – it’s getting dark now.”
I wondered why they hadn’t heard Fliss scream. The noise was still ringing inside my head. Probably Molly had been bleating on about some boring thing she was doing at school – or maybe they thought it was on the TV. I could hear it mumbling away in the sitting room.
