sleepoverclub.com (6 page)

“No, it isn’t a
good
idea,” Kenny replied, hopping from one foot to the other. She was really wound up. So would I be, if I had to face up to Catherine Shaw. “It’s our
only
idea. That’s why I’ve got to do it.”

“Well, we can’t let you go on your own,
Kenny,” Frankie said firmly. “I think we should all come with you. What do you say, guys?”

Fliss and Rosie didn’t look keen at all. Neither was I, but Frankie was right. We couldn’t let Kenny do this on her own.

“Yeah, OK,” I agreed. “After all, there’s five of us and only one of her! Fliss?”

“All right,” Fliss squeaked. “Rosie?”

“OK,” Rosie muttered.

So now we were all in it together. And Catherine Shaw was coming through the playground gates
right at this very minute
.

“Here goes,” Kenny said under her breath.

“Oh, don’t go yet,” Fliss mumbled, grabbing Kenny’s arm. “Let’s do it at breaktime.”

“No, now,” Kenny insisted. “Before we lose our nerve!”

We all trailed across the playground in Catherine’s direction. She saw us coming, and glared at us.

“What do you lot want?” she asked, putting her arms protectively round her rucksack.

“OK, let’s get down to business,” Kenny
said coolly. “You’ve got our disk, and we want it back.”

Catherine blinked. “What?”

“Our disk,” Kenny repeated impatiently. “You’ve got it, we want it!”

Catherine looked completely blank. “I dunno what you’re talking about,” she complained. “What’s a disk?”

“A
computer
disk,” Frankie explained.

“I don’t know anything about computers!” Catherine said, still looking bewildered.

“But you’ve got email,” Kenny pointed out.

Catherine looked even more puzzled. “No I haven’t.”

My heart sank. It was pretty obvious that Catherine Shaw didn’t have a clue what we were talking about. We’d lost our best suspect.

“Look, never mind,” Frankie said quickly, and we all turned and walked off.

“Hey!” Catherine called after us angrily, as the penny finally dropped. “Are you calling me a thief?”

“Quick!” Rosie said urgently. “Leg it!”

We all raced off across the playground, and dashed into school.

“So that’s that then,” I said dismally, as we hung our coats up in the cloakroom. “We’re still no closer to finding out who Katie Shaw is.”

No-one said anything. It looked like we were
never
going to get the disk back.

“I still think it could be the M&Ms,” said Fliss, for the millionth time.

“Or Ryan Scott and Danny McCloud,” Frankie suggested.

“Maybe it
is
Catherine Shaw after all,” Rosie suggested. “Maybe she just acted dumb to throw us off her trail.”

It was Friday afternoon, and we were round at Frankie’s place for our sleepover. Nothing much had happened since Tuesday, except that we were still getting an email every day from Katie Shaw, and every day the ransom money went up by a pound. It was now up to eleven quid.

We’d also finished designing the Aztec website, and we’d given all the stuff to Mr
Thomas. He was going to show us the site, which he’d nearly finished, when he got home from work later on.

“If we’re going to get the disk back, it has to be this weekend,” I said. We’d taken our shoes off, and we were all lying on the living-room floor in a row with our feet on the sofa. “Tom’s finishing off his new design over the next few days, and he’s taking it into school on Monday.”

“Maybe we should give up then,” Fliss suggested. “If Tom’s got a new design, we don’t need the disk anyway.”

“Yeah, but the first design’s the best one,” I pointed out. “Tom’s still gutted, and it’s all our fault.”

“We can’t give up now anyway,” Kenny said grimly. “I want to know who this Katie Shaw is. And boy, when I find out, she’ll wish I hadn’t!”

“Kenny, your feet stink!” Frankie complained.

“It’s not me, it’s Lyndz,” Kenny said indignantly.

“Cheek!” I said. “These socks are brand-new.”

“Yeah, but your
feet
aren’t brand-new,
are they?” Kenny grinned.

We all started wiggling our feet about underneath each other’s noses, and that made us giggle for a bit. But then we got all gloomy again.

“Do you think I should tell Tom we lost the disk?” I asked.

“What do you think he’ll do?” Fliss asked anxiously.

“What, after he’s killed me, you mean?” I replied.

“Honestly’s the best policy, my gran always says,” Frankie remarked.

“Nah, that’s not right!” Kenny grabbed a cushion and tried to smother Frankie. “What you mean is,
honesty
– always gets you into trouble!”

We all grabbed a cushion then and had a cushion fight for ten minutes, until Frankie’s mum came in and told us tea was ready. We were in the kitchen having cheese on toast, when Mr Thomas came home from work. He’s a lawyer, remember? So is Frankie’s mum, but she works from home more since she had Izzy.

“I’ve been working on your website all
week, girls,” he beamed, sneaking a piece of Frankie’s toast off her plate. “I think you’re going to love it, even though I say so myself! Now, has your brother got any tapes of his band, Lyndz? I wouldn’t mind hearing what they sound like.”

“Oh, Dad!” Frankie grinned. “I don’t think you’d be into that kind of music!”

“Why not?” Mr Thomas asked. “I was quite trendy in my day, I’ll have you know, Francesca Thomas.”

“Dad!”
Frankie looked really embarrassed, but the rest of us couldn’t help giggling. “No-one says
trendy
these days!”

“Well, hip, cool, funky or whatever it is.” Mr Thomas winked at us. “So, do you want to see this website or not?”

Kenny snaffled the last piece of cheese on toast, and we all charged upstairs to Frankie’s bedroom. Mr Thomas put the computer on, and we all waited impatiently while he found the website files.

“Right, just remember it’s not finished yet,” he warned us. “It’ll look a lot better when I’ve spent some more time on it.”

But although the website wasn’t finished, it already looked pretty good to me when it opened up on the screen! We’d asked Mr Thomas to use purple, green and gold throughout the site, and it looked really fab. The photos of the band had come out well, too.

“I’ve still got to put in the rest of the stuff you gave me,” Mr Thomas went on. “It’s Tom’s birthday next Saturday, isn’t it, Lyndz? I’ll have it finished by then.”

“Thanks, Mr Thomas,” I said gratefully, as he went out.

“Oh, Frankie,” Mr Thomas popped his head round the door again. “I’ve got a document I need to work on tonight, so I’m going to be using the computer. So can you lot find something else to do for the rest of the evening?”

“Sure thing, Dad,” Frankie agreed. She glanced at the rest of us. “I guess we’d better check our emails.”

“What’s the point?” Kenny grumbled. “There’ll just be another one from that rat-faced old bag, Katie Shaw!”

“Maybe Barbie and the others have replied to our last message,” Rosie pointed out. “We haven’t heard from them for days.”

Frankie found our site, and then checked the messages section. We had two new emails, one from Katie Shaw, which she deleted straight away, and another from the American girls.

Dear Frankie, Fliss, Kenny, Rosie and Lyndz
Sorry we haven’t replied for ages, but we’ve been grounded for the last week. Our parents got mad when we had a pool party, and we accidentally soaked Barbie’s nosey neighbour, Mrs Klein, with the sprinkler!

We were real sorry to hear about all the problems you’re having with your mystery blackmailer. Why don’t you set a trap for them like they do in the movies? You know, you say you’ll pay them, then you go along to the meeting-place and bust ‘em!

Let us know how you go.

Barbie, Darlene, Shannon and Jennie

We all stared at each other.

“That’s a totally wicked idea!” Kenny gasped. “Why didn’t
we
think of that?”

“Quick, Frankie,” Rosie said urgently. “Write an email to Katie Shaw, telling her we’ll meet her tomorrow – with the money!”

“We’re not really going to give her the money, are we?” Fliss asked.

“’Course not, birdbrain,” Kenny replied. “But Katie Shaw will have to arrange somewhere for us to leave the cash, then we’ll hide ourselves away and pounce on her!”

“Not if it’s Catherine Shaw, we won’t!” Fliss muttered.

Frankie was typing away furiously.

OK, you win. We’ve decided to pay up. We want the disk back tomorrow, so you’ll have to tell us where and when we can meet.

The Sleepover Club

“There!” Frankie sent the email. “That should do the trick. Now all we’ve got to do is wait for Katie Shaw to reply.”

Mr Thomas stuck his head round the door again. “Frankie, I need to use the computer
now
,” he warned her.

“OK, Dad, it’s all yours.” Frankie logged out of our site, and we all trooped downstairs again. “What do you guys want to do now?”

“What about Robot Wars?” Kenny suggested, bumping into Fliss and locking her arms round her. Our Robot Wars game had kind of taken over from International Gladiators, but it was still really rough! We all pretended to be robots with different
powers, and we had to try and knock each other out of the arena, which was usually a circle of cushions. It was ace fun!

“Nah, let’s play Cluedo,” Rosie suggested. “We haven’t played that for ages.”

“OK,” Kenny agreed. “I feel like murdering someone!”

We all sat down on the living-room floor, and Frankie went to get the Cluedo box. We set up the board and dealt out the cards.

“I wonder if Katie Shaw’s replied yet,” Kenny said. “I think it’s Professor Plum in the conservatory with the dagger.”

Fliss, who was next, wasn’t listening.

“Fliss!” Kenny gave her a nudge, and got a good look at her cards at the same time. “Professor Plum, conservatory, dagger.”

“Sorry.” Fliss looked flustered. “I was just wondering if Katie Shaw has replied yet. Hang on a minute, Kenny.”

“Don’t bother,” Kenny said breezily. “I saw all your cards anyway!”

“That’s not fair!” Fliss moaned, picking up the dice. She moved her piece into the study. “I think it’s Katie Shaw, in the study with the
revolver. I mean, Miss Scarlett, not Katie Shaw!”

“Oh, this is hopeless!” Frankie threw down her cards. “None of us can concentrate. Let’s nip upstairs and ask my dad if we can check the email.”

Mr Thomas didn’t look that pleased to see us when we thundered into Frankie’s bedroom like a herd of baby elephants, but he agreed to let us check the emails, if we were really quick. We were disappointed, though. Katie Shaw hadn’t replied.

We went back downstairs, and finished the Cluedo game. Kenny won – she guessed that it was Mrs White in the study with the lead piping. Then Frankie got out Pictionary and we played that for a bit.

“It’s been ages since we last checked the email,” Rosie said. “Katie Shaw might have replied by now.”

We all looked at Frankie.

“Oh,
all right
,” Frankie agreed. “But my dad’s not going to be too pleased.”

This time we tiptoed upstairs, and stuck our heads round the door. Mr Thomas didn’t
even notice us. He had his head bent over the computer, typing away furiously. The document he was working on looked pretty boring and complicated.

“Hi, Dad,” Frankie said sweetly. But Mr Thomas didn’t even turn round.

“Sorry, girls, I’ve got to get this done,” he said.

“But, Dad—” Frankie began.

“You can use the computer tomorrow,” her dad said firmly, still typing.

“Tomorrow!” Fliss grumbled, as we went downstairs again. “What if Katie Shaw’s replied? We won’t even know.”

“Yeah, say if she wants to meet us really early in the morning?” Rosie pointed out. “If we don’t read the email tonight, we might miss the meeting.”

“We could put the computer on when we’re supposed to be in bed tonight,” Kenny suggested, glancing at Frankie.

Frankie’s parents have this really strict rule that the computer is
never
put on after we’ve been sent to bed. When they first got the Internet, they had this password which
Frankie didn’t know, so that she couldn’t get on the Net without them being there. But then Fliss found out the password, when we were doing our Vikings project for school, and ever since then, Mr and Mrs Thomas have let Frankie use it whenever she wants – but
not
when she’s supposed to be asleep.

Frankie looked a bit uncomfortable. “My parents’ll go mad if they find out,” she muttered. “They won’t let me use the computer for
weeks
.”

“So we’ll make sure they
don’t
find out!” Kenny urged her. “Come on, Franks, don’t you want to see if Katie Shaw’s replied yet or not?”

“Well, OK,” Frankie agreed. “But we’ve got to be really quiet. And no messing about.”

“Would we ever!” Kenny snorted. “Nothing’s gonna go wrong, Frankie. Trust me.”

“We may have been best mates since we were little kids, Kenz, but I’m not
that
crazy!” Frankie retorted.