Annabel's Perfect Party

by Holly Webb

  “When?”

  “Who are you going to invite?”

  “What sort of party?”

  “Well,” said Annabel, plumping herself down on one of the huge twisted roots that made the chestnut tree such a good place to gather, and patting the seat-like bumps next to her, “we don’t really know what sort of party yet. Mum said she wanted to have a think about it, and consider her budget.” Annabel made a face. “Parties are expensive.”

  Katie nodded. “Sorry, you lot, but I don’t think we’ll all be going to see any fancy London musicals. Have a think, though. Suggestions welcome!”

  “Oh, don’t be silly,” said Megan, poking Katie (who was practically sitting on her knee) and making her squawk. “It doesn’t have to be fancy. You could do loads of things. Just loads of us hanging round your living room and watching DVDs would be cool. Why don’t you have a sleepover?”

  “That is a good idea,” said Katie, thoughtfully. “What do you think?” She wriggled herself round to look at Annabel and Becky.

  Becky nodded, enthusiastically, but Annabel didn’t look convinced. “I do like the sleepover idea, I’d just like to do something more exciting – and then have everyone sleeping over, maybe.”

  The bell rang then, and the discussion stopped until registration – where the triplets and their friends got so excited that Miss Fraser had to keep shushing them and the rest of the class were absolutely desperate to know what was going on. By break, the whole class knew that the Ryan triplets were having a party, and they were buzzing with excitement. The big question was, who was going to be invited?

  The triplets weren’t sure and said so – it depended on what kind of party it was. “After all,” Annabel pointed out to her friend Matt in history, “you wouldn’t want to come to a girly sleepover and do makeovers and watch DVDs, would you?”

  “Depends on the DVDs,” Matt said, but he got the point.

  “One thing’s for definite, though,” Katie leaned over to say to Annabel. “We are so not inviting THEM!” Them was quite obviously Amy, Emily and Cara, who were trying very hard to look as though they couldn’t care less, but were clearly listening to the party gossip. David, who sat with them in history and didn’t know that many people yet, was looking gloomy. Yet again, Amy and co hadn’t exchanged a word with him this morning. It seemed likely that they wouldn’t talk to him all year.

  Annabel grinned back. “Too right. And not him, either,” she added in a whisper, jabbing her thumb at Max, who sat close to Katie (unfortunately).

  Max apparently had ears like a really ugly species of bat, because he snapped back, “I wouldn’t want to come to your stupid party anyway!”

  Katie looked down her nose at him, which was impressive because he was taller than her. “Were we talking to you?”

  “No, but—”

  “I thought not. Shut up, Toadbreath.”

  “Katherine.” A pleasant, slightly Scottish voice broke into the conversation.

  “Er, yes, Miss Fraser?” quavered Katie, hoping that Miss Fraser was going miraculously deaf in her not-very-old age.

  “I gather that you and your sisters are having a party. I suggest that if you’d like to be out of detention in time to go to it, you attempt to behave a little more politely to the rest of your history group. Mmm?”

  “Yes, Miss Fraser.” And Katie was completely silent for the rest of the lesson.

  The rest of the day passed in a haze of more and more crazy party suggestions from practically everyone the triplets knew. Fiona, one of the triplets’ friends from their old school, was trying to convince Becky that they should have a fancy-dress party where everyone came as their favourite film stars, when the bell went.

  The triplets didn’t go home together on Tuesdays, as Saima and Annabel went to ballet class at the leisure centre after school. The two of them wandered over to the class, still turning over party ideas.

  “I suppose it’s difficult being a triplet when you have to arrange this sort of thing. You can’t all have exactly what you want,” Saima mused.

  “Mmm,” replied Annabel vaguely, glossing over Saima’s comment. She had so many fabulous plans for this party, she didn’t want to think about not getting them. “I’m sure it’ll be OK. I think we’d all really like a disco. I wonder how much it costs? We wouldn’t need a proper DJ, I suppose, but it would be really cool to have real disco lights. Or a glitterball!”

  Saima was won over immediately. “Oooh, yes. Then you could have a kind of glittery theme for the whole party!”

  They were off. By the time they’d got to the leisure centre, and changed into their leotards and ballet shoes, they even had the food organized – little iced cakes, because they could put edible glitter on them and Annabel loved the idea of eating glitter. “And maybe some crisps,” she added as an afterthought.

  Saima could only nod back, as the class was just starting. Their teacher, Mrs Flowers, had actually been a professional ballet dancer, but she’d explained to them that ballet was a very difficult career – you couldn’t go on being a ballet dancer for all that long, it was just too demanding once you were older. So lots of dancers went into teaching instead. After the warm-up exercises, Mrs Flowers split the class in two so that they could practise the sequence of steps that they’d been learning for the last couple of weeks. Annabel and Saima were in different groups, so Annabel sat on the long bench at the side of the room, watching as the other half of the class went through the steps. It was very impressive: fifteen girls, dressed identically in black leotards with pink gauze wrap-around skirts, and doing exactly the same steps. Well, almost, Annabel thought, as she noticed Lucy in the back row forgetting what she was supposed to be doing with her arms.

  Saima was in the front row. She was very good at ballet, and all sorts of dancing. She went to Indian dancing classes as well, which she said weren’t at all like ballet, because she had to move in a totally different way, and do lots of complicated things with her hands. And the costumes were brilliant – she’d let Annabel try them on with her, and said that one day she’d try and teach her some steps too. Maybe in half-term? Annabel wondered. The group in the centre finished their dance, and Annabel and the others perked up – it was about to be their turn.

  “Good. Watch those arms, please, girls. Very expressive hands, Saima dear, lovely.” “Expressive” was Mrs Flowers’s favourite word, that and “again” – as in, “You can be much more expressive than that, girls, do it again.”

  For once, Annabel didn’t mind when ballet was over. She’d been distracted by glitter all through the class, and thinking more about her favourite music than the Chopin they were dancing to. Luckily, being in a glittery, party mood hadn’t hurt her dancing at all. In fact Mrs Flowers had said that her step-sequence had a lovely carefree feeling. “Lovely” was another of her favourite words.

  Annabel couldn’t wait to get home; for a start Mum and Katie and Becky would probably have got tea ready, and she was starving. Ballet might look delicate and graceful, but it was very hard work. More importantly, though, she wanted to tell them all about her brilliant plans for the party.

  Katie and Becky had spent the walk home in a party daze as well, although not quite as glittery a one as Annabel’s. Katie was wondering how much it would cost to hire the swimming pool at the leisure centre – it had great inflatable things you could jump off, and a water-chute. Or what about going to see a football match?

  “Becky!” She poked her sister in the ribs, jolting her out of a daydream. “Becky, wake up! You’d like to go to a football match, wouldn’t you? I bet Dad would take us for a birthday treat.”

  “Are you mad? A football match? You and Megan would love it, and I s’pose I wouldn’t mind that much, but can you imagine Bel? And Saima? They’d freak.”

  “No they wouldn’t! It would be fun, they’d just need to make a bit of an effort and I bet they�
�d enjoy it.”

  Becky sniggered, imagining Annabel and Saima in football scarves (bound to be the wrong team colour to go with their outfits). “Katie, the only thing Bel knows about football is that she thinks all the players have stupid hair. She – would – hate – it! Wouldn’t she?”

  Katie grumped along for a bit. She didn’t want to be convinced, but Becky was right – she couldn’t see Annabel or dainty Saima enjoying a footie match. Really she’d only been arguing back for the principle of the thing. Annabel was even going off their shambolic kickabouts in the garden these days. Katie went back to her first idea. “How about a swimming party? With the big chute and everything? Wouldn’t you like that?” she coaxed.

  “Mmm. . .” Becky sounded thoughtful. “Mmm, yes. That would be cool. And maybe we could have a sleepover afterwards. Mum would let us, I bet she would.”

  Becky didn’t want to tell anyone, even her triplet, what she’d been daydreaming about for their party. It was too silly. She’d started off vaguely wondering if they could do something that involved animals, but she just wasn’t sure that Katie or Annabel would be happy with a trip to London Zoo. They’d been once before with Auntie Janet, Mum’s sister who lived in London, and loved it, but that was a couple of years ago. Besides, Becky wasn’t sure about keeping really big, wild kinds of animals in cages. Guinea pigs she didn’t have a problem with (luckily, or else there’d be four homeless guinea pigs wandering around their garden) but lions and polar bears needed more room than a zoo. This was where she’d got really over the top. Polar bears. . . It would be the best party ever – she and Katie and Annabel and their friends, wearing big (fake) furry coats on sledges pulled by teams of gorgeous cuddly husky dogs, speeding across the Arctic snowfields to go polar-bear-watching. Mmm. . . Katie’s football match idea had brought her back to earth with a bump (the huskies all ended up tail-deep in a snowdrift).

  Back in the real world again, a swimming party did sound nice. Basically Becky didn’t mind that much what kind of party they had. She just wanted all her new friends having fun together, and obviously some presents would be good. She smiled to herself as she thought back to the beginning of term, when she’d been so upset about Katie and Annabel making new friends. How could she have been so silly?

  Chapter Five

  “What’s for tea? I’m sooo hungry!” Annabel demanded of Katie who’d opened the front door for her. Remembering Mum’s new regime, she slung her ballet bag and jacket into the cupboard under the stairs (which was rapidly becoming the home for any untidyable mess).

  “Spag Bol. You’d better go and change, you’ve got to wear that sweatshirt three more days before it gets washed, and you and Spag Bol are a disaster area. Find something that’s already grubby.” Katie stood with her hands on her hips, looking stern. “And don’t you want your ballet stuff washing?”

  “All right, Mum!” sniggered Annabel, dumping her rucksack halfway up the stairs, which she didn’t think Mum could complain about as that was where she did her homework – she claimed it was easier to think on the stairs. Then she retrieved her tights and leotard and raced up to their room to dump them in the washing basket and get changed – Katie was right, she didn’t want to be wearing a tomatoey sweater for the rest of the week. Throwing on jeans and a pretty red T-shirt (careful tomato camouflage) that she’d already managed to chuck a spot of yoghurt down at the weekend, Annabel dashed downstairs, eager to tell Mum and Katie and Becky how gorgeously she’d worked everything out.

  Unfortunately, things didn’t quite go to plan. For a start, when she got into the kitchen, Katie and Becky were deep in discussion of something else – swimming or something, boooring! – but they seemed pretty excited about it.

  “What do you think, Bel?” Katie asked her eagerly.

  “’Bout what?” Annabel hadn’t really been listening.

  “The party, of course!” Katie sounded impatient.

  “All right, keep your hair on! Wow, you’re so snappy, I only asked. Anyway, that’s what I wanted to tell you all about. Saima and I have worked it all out, it’s going to be fab. The only thing is, Mum, we absolutely have to get a glitterball from somewhere, it’s kind of the theme of the whole party. And I had this totally brilliant idea, but I wasn’t sure you’d agree. . .” Annabel turned pleading eyes on her mother. “Can we repaint the living room? You know you can get that cool glitter paint? It would be amazing, really. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger, Mum, we’ll do it, easy. Won’t we?” Annabel looked happily at Katie and Becky, expecting glowing enthusiasm. She didn’t get it. Becky looked worried, scared almost, and Katie was just plain scowling.

  “What exactly are you wittering on about, Bel?” she said. “What’s glitter got to do with anything?”

  Annabel shoved Saima’s comment about not always getting what you wanted when you were a triplet to the back of her brain and stood on it hard. She obviously just hadn’t explained properly because she was so excited. Her sisters would love the plan once they’d really got it. She beamed determinedly at them, and patiently started again. “Our party’s going to be a disco, OK? And we get a glitterball for when we’re dancing, and the whole party is glittery, that’s why I want to paint the walls, I showed you the stuff in the DIY shop, remember? We can have glittery cakes, and you can both borrow my glitter nail polish, it’ll be so cool. . .” She faltered to a stop. Katie’s expression was not saying it was going to be cool, and Becky was doing that weird thing where she gnawed on her knuckles. Mum just looked as though she was awaiting developments. “What’s the matter?” Annabel asked, confused.

  “You worked all this out at ballet?”

  “Yes, well, on the way there—”

  “With Saima?” Katie folded her arms. All pretence of eating tea had stopped now.

  “Yeah, the glitter theme was her idea, don’t you think it’s brilliant?”

  “Oh yes, it’s great,” but Katie’s voice wasn’t fitting her words.

  “Oh, good, I wasn’t sure if you—”

  “For you. And Saima. Where exactly do me and Becky fit into the Glitter Party?” Suddenly Katie’s voice rose to a yell. “Were you even going to let us be there?”

  “Katie!” Mum said in a warning voice, and Katie shut up and just glared at her sister, obviously too furious to talk.

  Annabel, on the other hand, was furious and very talkative. “What is your problem!” she snarled. “Of course you’d be there, this is our party, what’s wrong with you today? I worked out all this stuff for you—”

  “No, you didn’t!” Katie was holding herself back from yelling, which resulted in an angry hiss. “You worked it out for you. This is a party for you, not us. You couldn’t even be bothered to listen to mine and Becky’s ideas, you just walked in and told us it was all settled! Well, it’s not, because I think your ‘glittery disco’ sounds rubbish and I wouldn’t have a party like that if you paid me!”

  “Your ideas! You mean that stupid swimming thing you were droning on about was supposed to be a party? Wow, swimming, how very exciting. It’s a good thing you’ve got me to arrange everything for you, because you are a boring sad person, Katie.”

  “Right, I’ve had enough of this,” Mrs Ryan snapped. “You’re behaving appallingly, and I see absolutely no reason to spend a great deal of time and money arranging a party for a pack of ungrateful little horrors. You can’t agree what to do, so there’s a simple solution – you won’t have a party at all.”

  “But Mum—”

  “Oh, that’s not fair—”

  “Be quiet!” It was Mrs Ryan’s super-scary, “be quiet now if you ever want to leave this house again except for school” voice, and they shut up instantly. Their mum fixed them with a laser-beam glare until she was certain they weren’t even considering answering back. Then she looked at Becky whose eyes were full of tears, partly because she’d really been looking forward to the party, but mostl
y because she hated it when their friendship got split up like this. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, she felt it as though it was actually hurting her. “I’m sorry, love. I know you weren’t arguing, but it’ll just have to be unfair on you, I’m afraid. Now, all of you, finish your tea and then go upstairs. I don’t want to see you or hear you for the rest of the evening.”

  They ate mechanically, hardly tasting the pasta, their minds boiling with the unfairness and disaster of it all. Katie and Annabel were each convinced it was entirely the other’s fault; and Becky was seething at both of them for being so stupid. As soon as all three of them had finished, Mum gave a pointed look towards the kitchen door and they slunk off upstairs.

  As soon as they got to their bedroom, Katie and Annabel turned on each other again. “Now look what you’ve done!” Katie started. “Great! Now we can’t have a party at all, just because you had to be so stupid and selfish!”

  “I’m selfish? I like that! That party would have been brilliant, and you had to go ruin it because you wanted to go swimming.” Annabel said “swimming” with absolute venom.

  “Oh, shut up!” sighed Becky.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Little Miss Perfect!” said Annabel nastily. “Darling Becky never argues, does she?”

  “Don’t be a cow, Bel. There’s no point taking it out on me. Just stop it, both of you. It’s pointless, you’ve done it, so stop bickering. OK, so Annabel shouldn’t have planned everything with Saima, but we were planning a swimming party, weren’t we, Katie, without Bel being there. And actually, I thought bits of Bel’s idea sounded cool.”

  “I suppose so,” growled Katie, still grumpy, but not furious any more.

  “And I don’t know what your problem with swimming is suddenly,” Becky said, rounding on Annabel. “You like swimming!”

  “I know, but swimming or a disco! No contest! Do you think Mum really meant it?”