Emergency Sleepover

by Fiona Cummings

“That’s terrible!” Lyndz sounded shocked. “Can’t the hospital do something?”

  “Mum said that there probably wasn’t enough money,” Rosie continued. “But there is an appeal fund to raise money for the Children’s Ward. There’s a chart over there telling you how much they’ve collected.”

  I went over to check it out. It was one of those charts shaped like a test-tube. So far they’d coloured in half of it, which meant they still had a long way to go to reach their target.

  “It’ll need more than your pocket money to put this place right!” piped up a voice behind me. “Unless you’re Posh Spice in disguise – which I doubt!”

  It was a really frail-looking boy, with skin so white you could almost see through it.

  “Hi, I’m Jake,” he said.

  “I’m Kenny,” I replied.

  “Have you come to see the pretty one, then?” He jerked his head over towards Rosie’s bed.

  “Yep, that’s right. What are you in for?”

  Jake told me that there was something wrong with his blood and he was waiting for an operation. It sounded pretty serious, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it so I didn’t push it. Apparently he spends a lot of time in Queen Mary’s and has lessons there and everything. I always thought that if you were in hospital, it was a good way of escaping school, but they have special teachers who come round.

  “It’s a bit rough here with no telly and not many books or anything. You feel like you’re killing time a bit,” he told me sadly. Then he brightened up. “I’d rather be playing football. One day I’m going to play for the best team in the world!”

  “Leicester City, right?” I pointed proudly to my shirt.

  “Leicester City? Get real! I mean Manchester United, of course!”

  Well, I wasn’t going to let him get away with that now, was I?! Half an hour later we were still discussing players and the best games we’d ever seen.

  “I hate to break this up…” A big cheery nurse came over to us. “But it’s time for your medication, Jake.”

  “I’d better go,” he shrugged. “Remember to hand in your pocket money for the appeal! See you around!”

  He headed down to his bed at the other end of the ward shouting, “Up the Reds!”

  I went back over to Rosie’s bed.

  “Good of you to join us!” smirked Frankie.

  “I was only chatting to Jake!” I said.

  “Ooh, Jake!” the others giggled.

  “Leave it out!” I grinned. “We were talking about football, actually.”

  “I think Jake’s pretty ill, you know,” said Rosie seriously. “He told me he virtually lives here. It must be awful spending all your time here with nothing to do.”

  I looked over at the appeal poster again.

  “We could try to raise some money ourselves,” I suggested.

  But before the others could reply, the nurse came over to take Rosie’s temperature. As soon as she saw her, Fliss flew out of her chair like a scalded cat.

  “Right, we should go now!” she said, giving Rosie a quick hug. “It’s about time we left you in peace.”

  And she zapped out of the double doors so fast you could almost smell burning rubber!

  “She’s been really twitchy since she got here,” Rosie pointed out. “Poor Fliss, it was good of her to come when she hates hospitals so much.”

  “Well, I guess we’d better go too!” grinned Frankie.

  We hugged Rosie and asked her to let us know when she would be home. I looked down towards Jake’s bed so I could wave goodbye to him, but the curtains were pulled around it. I just felt really, really sad as I walked out, and I was determined to do something to help.

  But first we had another problem to face: Fliss had disappeared. She wasn’t outside the Children’s Ward and she wasn’t in any of the toilets, because Lyndz checked.

  “Maybe she’s gone outside to get some air,” Frankie suggested.

  We wound our way back down the stairs and through all the corridors. And with every step we felt more and more uneasy. Fliss wasn’t good at directions at the best of times. And in a hospital I figured she’d be more hopeless than usual!

  Our suspicions were confirmed when we got outside the main entrance and she wasn’t there. There was no sign of her.

  What we had here was a catastrophe of galactic proportions. Fliss was lost. Not only that, but she was lost in the place she hated most in the world!

  “What are we going to do?” asked Lyndz anxiously. “We can’t just leave Fliss here!”

  “We should split up,” Frankie suggested. “We’ll each take a different part of the hospital and meet back here in fifteen minutes. Isn’t that when your Dad said he’d pick us up, Lyndz?”

  “Erm, he said ten past four. Will that be in fifteen minutes?” she asked, her eyes glazing over as she looked at her watch. Lyndz is very ditzy when it comes to telling the time!

  “Right. I’ll take this corridor here; you take that one down there, Lyndz; and Kenny – you retrace our steps back to the Children’s Ward, OK?” Frankie ordered.

  “Yes sir!” Lyndz and I both saluted and we all set off in different directions.

  I went all the way back up to the Children’s Ward but there was still no sign of Fliss. I even checked out three other wards and asked the nurses if they’d seen her, but nobody had. I just hoped that she’d be with Frankie and Lyndz when I got to the Main Entrance again. But she wasn’t. And what’s more, Lyndz wasn’t there either!

  “I should have known not to let Lyndz go anywhere by herself when she’s so hopeless at telling the time!” grumbled Frankie.

  “What are we going to tell her father?” I wondered.

  “It’s too late to think of anything,” moaned Frankie. “Here he is now!”

  Lyndz’s dad’s big van pulled up in front of us.

  “Hop in, girls!” he called out as he stopped in front of us. “Look sharp – I’m blocking the way of this ambulance!”

  Frankie and I piled in, wondering how we were going to tell him about the other two. When just then, we saw them steaming out of the door of the Accident and Emergency department.

  “Wouldn’t you look at those two eejits!” exclaimed Mr Collins when he saw them. “I can’t stop there for them with this ambulance behind me. I’ll have to go round again!”

  You ought to have seen their faces when they saw us driving past. It was class!

  When we did manage to pick them up, Fliss was as white as a sheet and whimpering. All we could get out of her was that she’d seen some terrible things and she never wanted to set foot in a hospital again. She swore that she’d seen someone being operated on, but I told her that was rubbish. Still, I was dead jealous that she’d seen more exciting things than me. And when we asked Lyndz how she’d found her, she said she’d just stumbled upon her by accident.

  “Quite fitting that it was in the Accident and Emergency department then, wasn’t it?” chortled her dad.

  Fliss was still going on about getting lost in hospital when we went to visit Rosie at home the following week. Rosie hobbled to the door on crutches.

  “Hey, cool!” I marvelled.

  “I don’t know about cool,” said Rosie. “It takes me about half an hour just to get upstairs!”

  “I bet you’re glad to be home, though,” said Fliss.

  “You bet I am!” she agreed. “I just feel so bad for all the kids who spend a lot of time in hospital. It is pretty grim in there.”

  “Why don’t we raise money for the appeal?” I suggested. It had kind of been playing on my mind ever since we visited Rosie in hospital.

  “How?” asked Lyndz.

  “I dunno,” I admitted, shrugging my shoulders.

  We’re not always very successful with our attempts at fundraising, as you probably know. Then I had a brilliant idea.

  “We could sit in baths of baked beans and get people to give us money for it!” I yelled, leaping out of my chair.

  “Oh,
yuck!” the others chorused.

  “No way!” said Fliss emphatically.

  “OK, I could sit in a bath of baked beans then,” I volunteered. “I’d give loads of money if I saw someone doing that!”

  “No, Kenny!” said Frankie firmly. “And sit down, won’t you? You’re going to damage Rosie’s foot the way you’re jumping around.”

  I sat down.

  “I know,” said Fliss. “How about a sponsored walk or something?”

  “Bo-ring!” the rest of us sang.

  “I was only trying to help!” Fliss sniffed. “You come up with some suggestions then!”

  “I have done,” I reminded her. “I can sit in a bath of baked beans!”

  “NO, Kenny!” the others shouted.

  “What about a sponsored stay-away-from-school day?” giggled Lyndz.

  “Or get people to sponsor us to burn our stupid school uniform!” snarled Frankie, picking at her skirt. “I hate these stupid things!”

  Now, I know that you already know what a genius I am, but I suddenly had an idea that surpassed all the genius ideas I’ve ever had before.

  “That’s it! I’ve got it!” I yelled, leaping up again.

  “For the final time, you can’t sit in a bath of baked beans!” Frankie said sternly.

  “I wasn’t going to say that, clever-clogs,” I told her. “I was going to say that we could have a Mufti Day. You know, when everyone wears what they want and pays 50p. Emma has them at her school sometimes and they’re really successful.”

  “Hey, that’s a great idea!” grinned Rosie. “I know that I’d gladly pay 50p if I didn’t have to wear our awful uniform for once.”

  The others were all nodding.

  “But what if Mrs Poole won’t let us do it?” Fliss suddenly asked.

  “We’ll just have to make sure she does,” I told her firmly.

  “We’ll have to get it organised before half-term,” warned Lyndz. “That’s coming up soon, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is,” said Fliss. “And the school always has a Fundraising Day on the Saturday after we’ve broken up. So I bet you Mrs Poole wouldn’t let you do this as well.”

  “You’re a right Miss Doom-and-Gloom, aren’t you?” I snapped at her. “Anybody would think you didn’t want to raise money for the hospital.”

  “Yes I do!” Fliss shouted back. “It’s just that I think we should try to organise something by ourselves, without involving school.”

  “But we need to raise as much money as possible,” Frankie said calmly. “And if we join forces with school we’ll be able to do that. Hey, do you think Mrs Poole would let us organise the school’s Fundraising Day? Then all the money from that can go to the Children’s Ward appeal too.”

  “I don’t see why not,” I nodded. “She’s always saying how we should get more involved in projects in the community. She’ll probably say we’ve…” I did my best imitation of Mrs Poole- “…‘shown great initiative’!”

  The others cracked up. Mrs P’s always saying that!

  “We won’t have to organise a stinky old jumble sale, will we?” asked Rosie anxiously.

  “Or a boring old Bring and Buy sale?” added Lyndz.

  Then another stroke of genius hit me. Every year we suggest something to Mrs Poole for our Fundraising Day. And every year she says “Maybe next year, dear”. Well, next year had just arrived.

  “I know!” I said jumping up and almost tripping over Rosie’s outstretched foot. “We can organise a scavenger hunt!”

  The others were all silent—for about ten seconds—then everyone started chattering at once.

  “We could plant clues all over Cuddington!”

  “Just imagine the chaos!”

  “It’s going to be class!”

  “But how will we do it?” asked Fliss. “There’s all the clues to write for a start and that won’t be easy. I think my idea of a sponsored walk’s much better.”

  “Shut up, Fliss!” we all said together.

  “And as I’m such a genius and have thought of two wonderful ways of raising money…” I began.

  “Ye..e..es?”

  “Well, don’t you think I deserve to do my baked-bean bath stunt now?” I finished eagerly.

  The other four all looked at each other.

  “What do you think, girls?” grinned Frankie. “Should we let her?”

  “Go on then!” giggled Rosie. “But count the rest of us out of that one, OK?”

  I nodded and danced round the room.

  This fundraising business was going to be wild, a real laugh! All we had to do was persuade Mrs Poole that she absolutely had to let us do it. And if you know Mrs Poole, well – you’ll know that that wasn’t going to be easy. In fact, it would be about as easy as getting Kenny in South Park to stay alive for once!

  The next day, we all got to school extra early so that we could talk to Mrs Poole about our plans.

  “She’ll have to agree to them,” I told the others confidently. “She’d look really mean if she didn’t, wouldn’t she?”

  The others didn’t seem quite so sure.

  “You know how she’s always going on about our uniforms and how important it is to give a good impression,” Rosie reminded us. “Maybe she won’t want us all turning up in khakis and stuff for a Mufti Day.”

  “And if she’s never wanted us to have a scavenger hunt before, I don’t see why she should let us have one now,” said Frankie glumly.

  “Well there’s only one way to find out,” I said. “Come on, follow me!”

  I’d just seen Mrs Poole getting out of her car, and I was determined to speak to her before she got to her office. But as she got closer to us, we could see that her face looked like thunder.

  “She looks like she’s going to eat us for breakfast!” whispered Fliss.

  I know that I should have taken that as a hint and walked away, but I just couldn’t.

  “Mrs Poole, we were just wondering…” I gabbled, and launched into our plans. I’d only just mentioned Mufti Day when she held up her hands.

  “Laura McKenzie, I can tell you’re very excited about something, but I am in a terrible hurry.”

  She still looked furious about something.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled.

  She seemed to soften a bit.

  “Come to my office at break time. I’ll have more time for you then.”

  Pulling her coat round her, she stomped off up the yard.

  “Nice one, Kenny!” Frankie said sarcastically.

  “She said she’d listen to us later, didn’t she?” I snapped back. But I felt as though I’d blown it for sure.

  All through the first lesson I rehearsed what I was going to say to Mrs Poole. When the bell went for break, my head was like a washing machine with all these ideas whizzing around in it. I was sure that as soon as I opened my mouth I’d only be able to spout out rubbish.

  “I guess we’d better get this over with,” I told the others as we nervously made our way to the Head’s office.

  “Ooh, have you been naughty girls, then?” chimed our Number One enemies the M&Ms, Emma Hughes and Emily Berryman, when they saw where we were going.

  “Not yet, but I might be very naughty in a minute,” I said menacingly, thudding my fist into my palm with a smack.

  “What are we going to do if she’s still in a bad mood?” whispered Fliss as we waited outside the door.

  “I’ll think of something,” I reassured her.

  “Ah girls, come in.” Mrs Poole opened the door to her office and ushered us inside. At least she didn’t seem to be in quite such a bad mood.

  “Now what was all that about this morning? I caught something about fundraising for the Children’s Ward at Queen Mary’s. Perhaps you’d like to explain the rest to me, Laura. Slowly!”

  I took a deep breath and told her everything – about Rosie’s accident, about there being no books or toys for children in hospital, about our idea for the Mufti Day and about the scavenger
hunt. When I’d finished I felt all hot and red in the face, but the others all grinned at me and Frankie gave me a thumbs-up.

  “Well, that’s very interesting,” said Mrs Poole, whipping off her glasses and squinting at us. “I had been trying to organise a Games Evening for our fundraising event this year. But the bingo caller rang up last night to say that he couldn’t make it. And the quiz questions I’ve been sent are ones we’ve used before.”

  We all looked at each other. So that explained why Mrs Poole had been in such a bad mood that morning.

  “So,” she continued, “your ideas are very timely Now, using the school’s Fundraising Day for a scavenger hunt. Hmm. And paying not to wear school uniform – yes, I can see how that might be popular. And the staff will…”

  “… have to wear school uniform for the day!” piped up Frankie.

  The rest of us stared at her – we’d never mentioned that before.

  “Oh!” Mrs Poole looked shocked too. “Ah… Well, now. I was going to suggest that the staff will help to organise things. Look girls, you’ll have to leave this with me so I can think about it. I’ll give you my answer this afternoon.”

  We all trooped out of her office.

  “What did you have to say that for?” I turned on Frankie as soon as we were in the playground again. “She’d virtually agreed to everything and you have to come up with something like that. I mean, come on! Can you really see Mrs Poole wearing one of these stupid skirts?”

  “They’re not that different from the stuff she normally wears,” reasoned Rosie.

  “That’s not the point,” I argued. “We had Mrs Poole in the palm of our hand and you have to come up with a dumb suggestion like that. Whatever possessed you, Frankie?”

  “I dunno,” Frankie grinned. “I just thought it would be a laugh, that’s all.”

  Remember when I told you that Frankie could still be wild? Well, this was definitely one of those times!

  “At least our ideas sound better than some boring Games Evening,” said Rosie brightly.

  We all had to agree with that.

  Even so, all the rest of the day my stomach churned up whenever I thought about what Mrs Poole was going to say. If she didn’t agree to our plans, I’d feel as though I’d let down Jake and all those other kids in hospital. And because I was so worried, I couldn’t pay any attention to the rest of the lessons. Mrs Weaver’s used to me being a bit weird during maths lessons so she didn’t really notice any difference. But I couldn’t even concentrate on games, which was our last lesson of the day. And let me tell you, I can usually play netball with my eyes closed.