“Er – yes.” Fliss fumbled in her pocket. Her voice was a bit high and squeaky because she was nervous. “I’m a member, and these are my guests.”
The man took the card and looked at it for what seemed like ages.
“You’re Nicola Proudlove?” he said at last.
“Um – yes,” Fliss muttered.
The man eyeballed Fliss sternly. “How old are you?” he asked.
“I’m fourteen,” Fliss said in a wobbly voice.
“Oh, really.” The man turned the membership card round, and held it out so that we could see it. “And how long have you been married, Mrs Proudlove?”
We all squinted at the card. There, next to the photo, it said Mrs Nicola Proudlove.
“Goodbye, Mrs Proudlove,” said the man sarcastically. “And just make sure you give that card back to its rightful owner.”
We all trailed gloomily back to the car park.
“Why didn’t anyone notice the card said Mrs Proudlove?” I asked, glaring at Fliss.
“I didn’t have time to look at it properly,” Fliss snapped. “I was in too much of a rush.”
“So the M&Ms win again,” Rosie said.
“Maybe we should just give up,” Lyndz suggested.
“Give up!” Kenny spluttered. “What do you mean, give up? I’ve just thought of another brilliant idea!”
We all groaned.
“Kenny, you’re not serious!” I said.
“You haven’t heard my idea yet,” Kenny said indignantly. She took the membership card from Fliss, and waved it at us. “See this? How about if we make our own membership cards?”
“What, fake them, you mean?” Lyndz gasped.
Kenny nodded. “Look at this card,” she said. “For a posh club, it’s pretty ropey. I reckon we could copy it, no problem.”
“That sounds a bit dodgy,” I remarked.
“It’s got to be against the law!” Fliss wailed.
“Don’t be a bunch of wimps,” Kenny retorted. “We’re not doing anything wrong. Not really.”
“How do you work that one out?” I asked.
“Because all we’re going to do is hang around inside the club until the M&Ms have seen us,” Kenny replied. “It’s not like we’re going to nick anything or cause trouble.”
“How about if someone spots us and realises we’re not members?” Rosie asked. “Like that Mrs Morgan, for instance.”
“Or Mark,” I added.
Kenny grinned. “That’s why my plan’s so cool.” She pointed at a poster for the gala afternoon, which was stuck on the fence. “Look, this is on tomorrow. There’s going to be loads of members there, and I bet there’ll be a lot of people who’ve come as guests too. So we aren’t going to stand out in such a big crowd.”
“I suppose not,” Fliss said doubtfully.
“We won’t be able to bag a court to have a game, though,” I said. “No way. If there’s going to be loads of people there, I bet all the courts will be booked, anyway.”
“Yeah, we’d better not draw any attention to ourselves,” Lyndz said, and the others nodded.
“OK, we’ll just hang around until the M&Ms have seen us, and then we’ll leg it,” Kenny said.
“We’ll need some photos if we’re going to copy those membership cards,” Rosie pointed out.
“There’s a photo booth in the Post Office in the High Street,” Kenny replied, jumping on her bike. “Come on!”
We all pedalled after her. We cycled back into Cuddington, and left our bikes in the car park behind the supermarket. The Post Office was right next door.
“Look, it’s £3.50 for five photos,” Kenny said, nodding at the photo booth. “How much money have we got?”
We all turned out our pockets. We had exactly £3.50 between us.
“See? This is our lucky day!” Kenny grinned. “Who’s going first?”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “How are we going to get in and out of the booth quick enough?”
“Just don’t hang about,” Kenny ordered us. “As soon as the flash goes off, get out of there as fast as you can. Frankie, you go first.”
I went in and pulled the curtain. Then I sat down and adjusted the stool so that my face was in the middle of the little square in front of me.
“Don’t have the stool too low.” Kenny stuck her face round the curtain all of a sudden, nearly giving me a heart attack. “We won’t have time to adjust it, and we’re not all beanpoles like you!”
I put the stool up a bit higher, and started to put the money into the slot.
“Ready?” I called.
“Ready!” the others called back.
I dropped the last coin into the slot, and put on this really cheesy grin. I thought the flash was never going to come, but when it did, I jumped straight up. At the same moment, Kenny came hurtling through the curtain like Superman, and we banged heads.
“Aaargh!” Kenny groaned. “Get out of my way, you idiot!”
I fought my way past the curtain, and got out just in time before the second flash went off.
“You’re next, Fliss,” Rosie said, giving her a shove.
Looking flustered, Fliss hurried into the booth. We heard Kenny shout “OW!”, and then she hopped out of the booth, clutching her foot. “Fliss trod on my toe,” she moaned.
“Go on, Rosie,” Lyndz said, as the flash went off again.
Rosie pulled the curtain aside. Fliss was down on her knees, hunting around on the floor.
“I dropped my sunglasses,” she gasped.
“Stay down, Fliss!” I told her. Rosie crammed on to the stool, trying not to tread on Fliss, who was crouched in a ball. The flash went off, and both of them hurried out. Lyndz dashed in, and just about got there in time to have her picture taken.
“What did you say about this being our lucky day?” I remarked to Kenny, who was clutching her head and rubbing her foot.
“Here are the photos,” Fliss announced.
We all crowded round to take a look as the photos popped out of the machine. They were really and truly gruesome. I’d put the stool a bit too high, and the top of my head had been cut off. Kenny was pulling a face like she was in agony, which she probably was after we’d banged into each other. Fliss looked totally panicked, and Rosie was all hunched up because she was trying not to step on Fliss. Only Lyndz looked in any way normal.
“If they let us in with these, they must be mad,” Rosie said. “We look awful!”
“We’ve got to make the cards now,” Kenny said. “Whose place shall we go to?”
“Somewhere the oldies won’t interfere and want to know what we’re up to,” I suggested. “So my place is out. My mum’s got eyes in the back of her head.”
“Not mine either,” Fliss said quickly. “My mum keeps checking up on us.”
“We could go to my house,” Rosie said. “Tiff’s got a holiday job, so she won’t be there, and Adam’s gone to summer camp.” Adam and Tiffany are Rosie’s brother and sister. “My mum’ll be there, but she’ll be studying.”
“OK, let’s go then.” Kenny glanced at her watch. “We’ll have to get a move on. Mum told me I had to be home by four.”
We grabbed our bikes and pedalled like the wind to Rosie’s house, which luckily was quite close by. Mrs Cartwright was working on the computer, and she just popped out to say hello, then left us to it. We scooted out into the garden, while Rosie went to get us some drinks and something to eat. We really needed it, after the afternoon we’d had!
“Right, we need card, black felt pens, scissors and glue,” Kenny said, ticking the items off on her fingers.
“Look, Fliss’s mum’s card is covered in this kind of clear plastic to protect it,” I said. “How are we going to do that?”
“We’ve got some clear sticky-back plastic,” Rosie said, coming out with a tray of orange squash and a family-sized bag of cheese and onion crisps. “My mum uses it to cover her college books.”
“Excellent,” Kenny said. We were sittin
g round the garden table, and she put Mrs Proudlove’s card in the centre, so that we could all see it. “Now remember, it has to be exactly the same size and everything.”
Rosie fetched the stuff we needed, and we got to work. Like Kenny had said, the cards weren’t that posh-looking. They were just plain white with Green Lawns Tennis Club in black letters at the top, and they had the member’s photo, name and signature on the front. I’d thought that Kenny’s idea was really daft, but I was surprised by how good the cards looked as we worked on them.
“Rats,” Kenny said, looking at her watch. “I’ve got to go. I’ll have to finish mine at home.”
“Me too,” I said, slipping the card into my pocket.
Fliss and Lyndz decided it was about time they went home as well. Rosie cut us some squares of sticky-back plastic so that we could finish the cards off that evening, and then we went to get our bikes.
“What happens if we don’t get into the club tomorrow?” Lyndz asked.
“I’ll think of another plan!” Kenny said firmly. “I’m not letting the M&Ms think they’ve got one over on us…”
“You can play a backhand with one or two hands,” Mark said, and held up his tennis racket, showing us the different ways to hold it. It was the following morning, and we were at our coaching session. Lyndz’s mum had taken us, and she was a bit late picking us up, so we’d got there just as Mark had started the session off. At least that meant that we didn’t have to put up with the M&Ms going on at us. They’d just sniggered and nudged each other when we’d arrived.
“There are a few important things to try and remember, whether you play a one-handed or two-handed shot,” Mark went on. “Hold the racket head straight. If you tilt it slightly, you can get backspin on the ball, but for the moment just practise keeping it straight.”
Someone poked me in the back. I glanced round, and Emma Hughes and Emily Berryman grinned unpleasantly at me.
“I thought you were going to the club yesterday afternoon,” the Queen said.
“We did,” I replied. No need to say we hadn’t actually gone in!
“You didn’t,” Emily said accusingly. “We were there for most of the afternoon, and we didn’t see you.”
“Well, you must need glasses then,” I retorted, and turned away.
“You lot are big fat liars!” the Queen said. “You’re not members, and you’ve never been there at all!”
“Yes, we have.” Kenny joined in. “And we’re going to be at the gala afternoon today, too.”
“Huh! I’ll believe that when I see it,” Emma Hughes snorted.
“Emma, could you be quiet please?” Mark said sharply, and the Queen turned bright red.
We spent the session practising our backhands, and then Mark let us actually have a proper game for the last hour, with scoring and everything. He gave us each a sheet of paper, which explained exactly how to do it. Some of the others played doubles, but we decided to play singles and take it in turns to play each other, although we had to limit each match to just three games.
Of course, Fliss was easily the best, and she beat the pants off all of us, but Kenny was good too (when she wasn’t belting the ball right out of the court and giving points away), and I wasn’t too bad either. My serve was quite good, but I couldn’t hit the ball as hard as Kenny. Rosie and Lyndz were OK too, although they weren’t as good as Fliss and Kenny.
“I think you and Kenny might have a chance of winning the tournament on Friday,” I said, as we packed away when the coaching session was over.
“Yeah, if I can stop losing points by whacking the ball out of play,” Kenny grumbled.
“You just need a bit more practice,” Fliss said.
“Well, we’ve only got today and tomorrow, and then the tournament’s on Friday,” Kenny pointed out.
“The M&Ms aren’t as good as they think they are, though,” Rosie chimed in. “I was watching them today, and Emily’s really weedy.”
“Yeah, she didn’t return half the shots, and Emma was telling her off,” Lyndz added.
Kenny waved at the M&Ms as they went past. “See you at the gala afternoon,” she called.
“Oh, shut up,” the Queen snapped. “If you think you can wind us up by always pretending you’re there when you’re not, it won’t work!”
“Yeah, we know you’re making it up,” the Goblin added.
The Queen turned to her. “Tell you what, Em,” she said. “If we don’t see them there this afternoon, we’ll ask Mrs Morgan, the club secretary, if she knows them.”
“Ooh, that’s a good idea,” the Goblin said, and they walked off.
“Did you hear that?” I hissed. “If the M&Ms speak to Mrs Morgan, she might tell them that we’re the ones who broke her racket.”
“The M&Ms would love that,” Kenny groaned. “So we’ve got to make sure we get into that club this afternoon!”
We arranged to meet up at my place, ready to cycle to the tennis club later. Then we hung around, waiting for Lyndz’s mum. Mrs Cartwright was late again picking us up, so when I got home, lunch was ready. I quickly got changed, and I’d just sat down and picked up my cheese and pickle sandwich when the phone rang. My mum went to answer it, and came back, looking suspicious.
“It’s Fliss for you,” she said, “and she sounds in a right old flap. Are you girls up to something?”
“’Course not, Mum,” I said airily. “You know what Fliss is like. She panics about everything.”
I waited till my mum had gone back into the kitchen, and then I dashed into the hall.
“Frankie?” Fliss squealed, nearly deafening me. “You’ll never guess what’s happened!”
“What?” I asked.
“My mum and Auntie Jill have decided to go to the tennis club this afternoon!” Fliss wailed.
“Oh, you’re joking!” I groaned. “I thought they were too embarrassed to go after what happened?”
“Yeah, that’s what they said,” Fliss replied. “But then Mum said there’d be loads of people there for the gala thing, so maybe it wouldn’t be so embarrassing. And Mark’s talked Auntie Jill into going.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Are you going with them?”
“No, that’s the other thing,” Fliss said gloomily. “Me and Callum are supposed to go to Dad’s for the afternoon.”
“Ask your mum if you can come round here instead,” I said, thinking fast. “The others’ll be here soon, and we can decide what to do.”
“OK,” Fliss said glumly, and put the phone down.
“Problems?” said my mum. She was standing right behind me.
“No,” I said innocently. “We’re all going on a bike ride this afternoon, like I told you before.”
“That’s all right then,” said my mum. “Because I know you wouldn’t lie to me, Frankie.”
“No,” I said. Well, it wasn’t lying, was it? We were going on a bike ride – to the tennis club!
I finished my sandwich and toffee yoghurt in double-quick time, and then went out into the front garden to wait for the others. A few minutes later, Rosie came cycling down the street, followed closely by Kenny.
“We’ve got a problem, guys,” I said, as they wheeled their bikes into the garden. “Fliss’s mum and her Auntie Jill have decided to go to the gala afternoon.”
Kenny’s face fell. “Oh, rats!” she exclaimed.
“Well, we can’t go then, can we?” Rosie asked. “If they spot us, we’ll be deader than dead!”
“Hey, we can’t give up now,” Kenny said. “There’s going to be loads of people there. I bet we can keep out of their way.”
Fliss and Lyndz came pedalling like mad things down the road.
“What’re we going to do?” Fliss gasped, jumping off her bike and nearly tripping herself up.
“We’ll have to go,” Kenny said. “Otherwise the M&Ms are going to start talking to Mrs Morgan, and then they’ll find out everything that happened.”
“But what about my mum?” Fliss loo
ked as if she was about to faint with fright.
“Look, like I said before, we’ll just find the M&Ms, prove that we’re there and then leg it,” Kenny said. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Has everyone got their membership cards?” I asked, as we climbed on to our bikes. Everyone nodded, and we cycled off.
When we got to the tennis club we had to hide behind the trees at the side of the road, while we checked the car park to make sure Fliss’s mum wasn’t parking the car. Then we had to dash out, lock up our bikes and rush over to the entrance, hoping that Mrs Proudlove and Auntie Jill didn’t turn up while we were trying to get in. There was quite a long queue at the turnstile, and we joined the end of it.
We were so worried about Fliss’s mum, we’d forgotten to check which man was on the gate. Luckily, it wasn’t the man from yesterday – it was the same elderly man who’d been there the first time we came. I hoped he wouldn’t remember that two days ago, we’d all been guests and not members!
The man was looking a bit stressed out, probably because there were so many people around.
“Membership cards, please,” he snapped.
Kenny went first, and handed her card over, looking pretty confident. The guy hardly looked at it this time. He gave it back to Kenny, then flicked his eyes over mine, Fliss’s, Lyndz’s and Rosie’s without even taking them from us.
“Go through,” he said shortly.
I could hardly believe it – we were in! Kenny’s plan had worked.
Kenny gave us a big grin, and pushed hard against the turnstile.
“Hey!” she gasped, as it didn’t move. “It’s not working.”
The man was staring suspiciously at Rosie. “Give me your card, please,” he said, frowning at her.
Rosie looked pretty scared as she handed it over. The man looked at it, and then glared at us.
“We spell tennis with two ‘n’s here,” he said angrily, holding the card up so that we could see it.
Green Lawns Tenis Club was printed in black across the top of Rosie’s card.
“You idiot, Rosie,” Kenny said crossly under her breath.
“I didn’t notice I’d spelt it wrong!” Rosie muttered, turning bright red in the face.
Mega Sleepover 7 Page 20
