Sleepover Girls on Safari (6 page)

“Anyone got a match?” said Emma in a casual voice.

“It’s obvious you aren’t in the Brownies!” said Frankie contemptuously.

She pushed past Emma, and I saw she was shining a tiny pencil torch. She ducked through the doorway, beaming the narrow ray of light into the dark. Even with the torch it looked horribly creepy. And I could hear sounds of water dripping steadily on stone.

“Well, come on,” Frankie called to Emma. “Or everyone will think you’re chicken!”

Emma tossed her ponytail and started off down the steps.

I don’t think either of them wanted to go into a dungeon which might have been used as a medieval torture chamber. But it had become a matter of honour.

I’m the Sleepover Club wimp as you know, but I couldn’t let Frankie do her horrifying dare alone. I took a deep breath and went pattering after her down the steps. I knew Rosie, Kenny and Lyndz were following, because I could hear bizarre snatches of conversation.

“You can share out my new Leicester City kit between you,” Kenny whispered. “Take care of it and remember me fondly.”

Rosie gave a hysterical giggle. “How can we remember you if we’re dead, birdbrain?”

“Don’t be stupid,” I called to them. “We’re going to be fine.”

Unfortunately my voice gave a massive wobble in the middle.

“Hurry up, guys!” Frankie yelled. “It’s freezing down here!”

“Oh, no! That means it’s haunted,” Rosie
squeaked. “It’s always cold where there are ghosts.”

We found ourselves in a kind of crude tunnel that had been carved into the rock. The ceiling was so low there was hardly room to stand. There was only one direction to go. The sign said: This Way To The Dungeons.

As we tiptoed down the dank passage, I thought I heard faint scratching inside the walls. “Do you think they have rats in this castle?” I asked, trying to sound as if I was just inquiring.

“Of course there are, you bozo,” said Kenny. “There’s always rats in dungeons.”

I froze. “Are there?”

“Get a move on, Flissie, or they’ll come and nibble your toes,” she said impatiently.

“Kenny’s joking,” said Lyndz in my ear. “It’s probably just the heating pipes creaking or something.”

We crept cautiously along the passageway, following the weak light of Frankie’s torch. Every sound made me break into goose bumps. If we’d been in Mr Clemency’s group, we’d have finished our tour by now. We’d be outside in the spring sunshine, sharing out the
Celebration chocolates. Not down here in the damp, smelly dark with invisible rats.

Suddenly someone screamed.

Then I saw the dead body and someone else started screaming and screaming. It took me ages to realise it was me.

The corpse dangled from its chains like a horrible puppet. We all clutched each other gibbering with fear.

Lyndz sounded as if she might be going to be sick. “You can see the blood!” she whispered. “He must have died SO horribly!”

Kirstin squeezed past without a word and went to inspect the body. It’s unbelievable how cool Australians are in a crisis. “Hmmn,” she said. “I thought it was well-preserved for a corpse. A medieval torture victim should be dust and bones by now.”

We stared at her in the flickering torchlight.

“Relax, you guys!” she chuckled. “It’s a waxwork. They probably used to run scary dungeon tours or something. Not very good ones by the look of this guy.”

I felt such an idiot. Now I really came to look, the dead body was obviously a dummy.
I could tell Emma felt really embarrassed too.

“I knew it wasn’t real,” she said quickly.

“Is that why you held on so tightly you practically broke my arm?” Frankie sneered.

“I did not,” Emma snapped.

Kirstin was groping her way along the tunnel. “There’s a door at the end,” she called. “What do you reckon we’ll find in here?”

“Don’t bother,” said Kenny gloomily. “It’ll just be another stupid dummy.”

“Hey, I’ve come all the way from Australia for this,” Kirstin said cheerfully. “I want my money’s worth.”

She lifted the old-fashioned latch on the door, then suddenly staggered back.

“Are you OK?” asked Frankie.

Kirstin shook her head. “I’m not sure. The door felt so cold,” she whispered. “It was so cold it hurt.”

“I think we should go now,” Lyndz said in a rather high voice. “I think we should go back to the others.”

Emma gave Frankie a wary look. “If I go it’s not because I’m scared,” she gulped.

Frankie shook her head. “Me neither.”

But before anyone could move. Kirstin began to shiver violently. “It’s so cold,” she moaned. “And everything’s going so dark.”

To our horror, she crumpled to the floor, still moaning faintly.

“What’s wrong with her?” Emma squeaked.

“I think she had some kind of fainting fit.” Frankie sounded genuinely scared. “You’re the medical person, Kenny. What should we do?”

“I’m going to get Mrs Weaver,” Kenny whispered. “Kirstin could be seriously ill.”

“NO.”

Considering she’d just fainted, Kirstin’s voice sounded really loud and strange. She rose very slowly to her feet. “Stay where you are, mortal!” she boomed.

Something had definitely happened to Kirstin’s voice. It sounded deeper and harsher. Her face looked different too. Kind of stern and unfriendly.

“You should probably sit down,” said Emma nervously. “Maybe you don’t remember, but you fainted.”

“I am perfectly well, now I have this mortal’s body,” Kirstin said in her new scary voice.

I had a very creepy feeling. Something really weird had happened to Kirstin. Something supernatural-weird.

“What do you mean you’ve got her body?” Frankie quavered.

“Quiet!” said the voice. “Or I will crush your pathetic bones to pulp!”

Lyndz whimpered and covered her eyes.

“Who – who are you?” stammered Emma.

“I am an unquiet spirit. My life was taken in this dungeon and now I want your blood in revenge!”

That’s all we needed to hear. We picked up our heels and ran screaming from the dungeon. I fell over and landed on my knees hard. But I didn’t care about the pain or that I might be bleeding on my new jeans. I just wanted to get out of the dark and back to safety. We ran up the stairs, into the reception hall and straight into Mrs Skinner.

“Girls, girls, what’s all this?”

Everyone was babbling hysterically. Frankie was actually crying.

“It’s my fault!” she wept. “If I hadn’t dared Emma, the unquiet spirit wouldn’t have got Kirstin!”

Mrs Skinner looked baffled. “Who got who? What are you talking about?”

“The ghost of Gawdy Castle,” Frankie wailed.

Mrs Skinner looked surprised. “But Maude wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Frankie’s tears stopped like magic. Everyone stared at Mrs Skinner.

“You mean the castle is really haunted?” I asked.

“Of course. Most old places are. But the Gawdy Castle ghost is quite harmless.”

“But we SAW it in the dungeons!” Emma wailed.

The tour guide clicked her tongue. “I’m not going to ask what you were doing there. But you certainly won’t find Maude in the dungeons. I usually see her in the hall or the rose garden.”

“The ghost is called Maude?” Kenny seemed disgusted.

“What about Kirstin,” Emma pleaded. “I’m really worried about her. Something awful happened down there.”

“It’s like she was possessed by a demon!” Frankie agreed.

“Yeah, I really had you going, eh?” laughed a voice.

Kirstin was sauntering towards us, giving absolutely no sign of being possessed by a demon.

Frankie’s mouth fell open. “NO way! You DIDN’T!!”

“I did!” grinned Kirstin. “I played you for suckers and you swallowed it hook, line and sinker!”

I looked down at my knees. For the first time I noticed the blood seeping through the denim. I was officially angry with Kirstin. “I’m glad you think it’s so funny. Now I’ve got to tell Mum I’ve ruined my new jeans.”

“I’m sorry about your jeans, Fliss,” she said. “But I truly didn’t think you’d run out so quickly. I was just going to own up when you all took off like a bunch of lemmings!”

One thing about Frankie is she’s an excellent sport. She gave an embarrassed laugh. “That was a pretty cool trick,” she admitted grudgingly. “For an Australian.”

“I’d love to have seen us on video,” agreed Kenny. “I bet we were white as sheets!”

“You were!” giggled Kirstin.

“And that voice was well spooky!” said Frankie.

The word reminded me that Gawdy Castle actually had a real ghost.

“Mrs Skinner, have you seen Maude?” I asked nervously.

“Oh, you never see her. You know she’s there though. You can smell lavender in the air and you sometimes hear long skirts rustling.”

Rosie sighed. “That sounds like my kind of ghost.”

“I hope your phone call wasn’t bad news, Mrs Skinner,” I said shyly.

Mrs Skinner looked surprised. “How sweet of you to ask. Actually it was very good news. My daughter has just had a baby. We’ve been worried about them both. But they’re perfectly fine!”

We all congratulated her and told her she didn’t look nearly old enough to be a granny, though like Kenny said later, it’s not that easy to tell with the undead!

We were just getting back on the coach when I realised I’d left my sweatshirt in the reception hall.

“Keep my seat for me,” I told the others. “I’ll be back in two ticks,” and I went haring back to the castle.

At first I couldn’t see my top anywhere, then I found it crumpled behind a radiator in the hall. It was really grimy from the dungeons. Mum’s going to think I’ve been in a war, I thought. I’ve ruined my new jeans and my sweatshirt looks like a dusty old relic from a museum.

Just then I heard the soft swish of a woman’s skirt behind me.

“Oh, Mrs Skinner,” I said guiltily. “I was just—”

But when I turned the hall was empty, and I could smell the sweet scent of lavender.

That night we prepared for the most bizarre sleepover ever.

You see, on the way back on the coach, it came out that Kirstin was going to be leaving Cuddington next week. Her parents were dragging her off to some big ecological project down in Cornwall.

“I’m gutted,” she said. “If I’d been here a few days longer Emma could have brought me to one of your famous sleepovers!”

Frankie took a huge breath and my heart literally stopped as I waited for her to drop Emma right in the poo! I don’t really know why
she didn’t. Maybe it was because she could see Kirstin was genuinely disappointed.

Frankie leaned across to Emma and tapped lightly on her skull. “Hello! Anyone at home?” She laughed. “Poor Emma. She’s losing it, aren’t you, Emma? I can’t believe she forgot to tell you.”

“Forgot to tell her what?” said Emma nervously, obviously suspecting some new insult.

“Duh! We’re sleeping over at Fliss’s tonight, dummy! We’ll see you guys there, won’t we, Fliss?”

My head was spinning with surprise. “Oh, yeah,” I croaked. “Erm, don’t forget to bring sleeping bags.”

“And a spooky story and food for your midnight feast, right?” grinned Kirstin. “Emma’s told me all about it.”

“I don’t believe you did that, Frankie Thomas,” Kenny burst out, as Emma and Kirstin went off in Emma’s mum’s car.

“YOU can’t believe I did it! I’m not going to sleep a wink, knowing I’m under the same roof
as that girl.” Frankie looked genuinely panicky. “I’m really, really sorry guys. I just didn’t know what else to do.”

“No, you did right, Spaceman,” Kenny comforted her. “It’s not Kirstin’s fault Emma’s been telling all these lies.”

“Anyway, how bad can it be?” said Rosie bravely.

“Just don’t go leaking any crucial Sleepover Club secrets,” Kenny warned.

But our fears proved totally groundless. When Emma’s mum’s car stopped outside our house later that evening, just one girl got out.

I ran to the door to let Kirstin in. “Where’s Emma?”

“It’s such a shame! She couldn’t come. She’s really not feeling well.”

“Don’t say she’s caught Emily’s nits after all?”

Kirstin shook her head. “She’s just got a chill. She did get a bit of a soaking.”

Maybe Emma’s illness was genuine. But I also think she was scared. She must have known she couldn’t keep up the pretence of
being a bona fide member of the Sleepover Club. Not once she was on our territory.

Emma really did us a big favour. We agreed later that our safari sleepover would have been seriously stressful if she’d been there, with her prissy voice and her pulled-back ponytail.

But we didn’t say any of this to Kirstin. We were too busy stuffing ourselves with the Cheesy Doritos she’d brought, and reminiscing about our mad experiences at Gawdy Castle.

Kirstin told us she’d half-sussed that Emma wasn’t exactly our big bosom buddy, like she’d claimed in her e-mails. But she was truly astonished when we explained that Emily Berryman was Emma’s real friend. “She never even mentioned her! I wonder why?”

“You’d have to know Emily to understand that,” said Kenny darkly.

Kirstin has to be one of the coolest girls I’ve ever met. She had no illusions about Emma, but she totally refused to diss her. “Emma has some good points,” she said. “And she’s obviously nuts about you guys.”

I thought about that a lot as I finally snuggled down in my sleeping bag. We didn’t
do the tent thing in the end, by the way. Even Frankie agreed that we’d had more than enough excitement for one day.

I could hear Andy upstairs talking soothingly to one of the twins, or he could have been reciting his list of builders’ tools. But it still sounded comforting and homey.

As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered why Emma really told Kirstin those stories about her imaginary sleepover experiences. We’d never know. Next term Emily would be back at school and everything would be back to normal. But I couldn’t help wondering. Had it all just been acting like Frankie said, or did Emma Hughes really want to be our friend?