by Narinder Dhami

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Have you been Invited to all these Sleepovers?

Sleepover Kit List

Copyright

About the Publisher

Salut tout le monde! Je m’appelle Rosie, et j’ai une super histoire à vous raconter sur les vacances du Sleepover Club à Paris!

No, don’t get your knickers in a twist – you haven’t picked up the wrong book! The Sleepover Club have kind of gone all French, because last half-term we went on a school trip to Paris. We had a really cool time, but as you can probably guess by now, things didn’t go all that smoothly. In fact, just about everything that could go wrong did! But I’d better start right at the beginning…

The beginning was at school a few months ago in Cuddington, the village where we all live. The bell had just rung for hometime, and the Sleepover Club were all desperate to get out of school as fast as we could, as usual. You remember the Sleepover Club, don’t you? There’s Frankie, Kenny, Fliss, Lyndz and me (Rosie), and we sleep over at each other’s houses at the weekends.

“What’s up with Weaver?” Kenny said crossly as Mrs Weaver started rooting around in her desk instead of letting us go. “I want to go home!”

Everyone in the class started muttering and moaning, until Mrs Weaver glanced up and fixed everyone with a beady glare. Then we all shut up.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, picking up a pile of papers. “But I have some letters for your parents here.”

“Boring!” Frankie whispered with a huge yawn.

“The school is organising a trip to Paris next half-term for this year group,” Mrs Weaver went on. “And we need to know how many of you would be interested in going.”

Well, that wasn’t boring! We all looked at each other in delight. Our last school trip abroad, to Spain, had been cool – and we were all up for some more!

“Excellent!” Kenny said. “I’m definitely going!”

“Me too!” I put in.

“I’m going to ask my mum and dad if I can go,” Lyndz added.

“I wonder if we get to go to Disneyland Paris?” Frankie asked, looking excited.

“Oh, I’ve been there,” said Fliss. “It’s fab!”

As you can probably guess by now, we were all determined to go! And there was one other special reason why we were looking forward to it. We’ve kind of started having sleepovers in different places whenever we can. We’ve had one in a museum, one when we were camping and one when we went on the last school trip to Spain. Now we had the chance to have a sleepover in France – and none of us was going to miss that!

“When are we going to have our French sleepover then?”

Kenny said that in a really loud voice while we were waiting in the school minibus to go through the Channel Tunnel to Paris. Immediately we all started shushing her, and looking round to check where Mrs Weaver was.

“Shut up, Kenny!” hissed Frankie.

“Yeah, shut up, Bigmouth!” Lyndz added.

“If Mrs Weaver hears that, she’ll go ballistic,” Fliss said nervously. “After the school trip to Spain, I bet she watches us all the time.”

“Do you remember when Mrs Weaver caught us right in the middle of the Spanish sleepover?” Kenny grinned. “She looked pretty spooky in her nightie!”

“Ssh!” said Fliss, even though she was giggling as hard as the rest of us. Luckily Mrs Weaver was down at the front of the minibus with Mrs Jackson and Mr Tate, who were the other teachers coming with us. We were near the back of the minibus, although we hadn’t managed to bag the back seat. Kenny was sitting next to Frankie, Fliss and Lyndz were sitting behind them, and I was behind Fliss and Lyndz.

“We won’t get caught this time,” Frankie said confidently.

“Maybe we’ll all be in the same room,” Lyndz said hopefully. “That’d make it easier.”

“What are we going to do at a French sleepover anyway?” I asked.

“Eat snails!” Kenny suggested with an evil gleam in her eye.

“Urgh! No way!” Fliss turned pale.

“Do you know what ‘snail’ is in French?” Frankie asked, pulling a French phrasebook out of her bag. We all groaned loudly.

“Oh, you’re not going to bore us to death again, are you!” Kenny moaned. When we went to Spain, Frankie took a Spanish dictionary and kept on telling us loads of stupid words.

Frankie flipped through the book, ignoring the lot of us. “Escargot,” she said, “That’s French for snail.”

“Well, I’m not eating any escargots at our sleepover,” Fliss said firmly.

“We could have French bread and cheese,” Lyndz suggested.

“And onions,” I added.

“Hey, I’ve got a great idea!” Kenny announced. “We can dance the Can-Can!”

“Don’t you have to show your knickers when you do the Can-Can?” Fliss giggled.

“That depends on how high you can kick!” Kenny started humming the Can-Can tune, and kicking up her legs against the seat in front of her. “Da, da, de-de-de-de da, da!”

“Do you mind, Laura McKenzie!” Emma Hughes bounced up out of the seat in front of Kenny, and glared at her. “You’re kicking me!”

“Well, I don’t have a problem with that!” Kenny retorted coolly, and the rest of us fell about.

“Stop it, or we’ll tell Mrs Weaver!” Emily Berryman’s head appeared over the top of the seats too. Yup, the M&Ms were out in force. You’ve got to remember the M&Ms. They’re our biggest enemies in the whole world! We call them the Queen and the Goblin because Emma’s so snooty, and Emily’s small and weedy with a deep voice. They are both major pains.

Kenny pulled one of her most gruesome faces at the M&Ms, and they both sniffed and turned their backs on us. Then the Queen bent down and pulled her bag from under her seat. Emma had brought about four pieces of luggage with her – and they all matched. Talk about posh!

“Do you want a Twix, Emily?” she asked.

“Pity they had to come with us,” Frankie muttered as Emma opened her bag. “We had a great time in Spain without them!”

“Yeah, it was cool!” I agreed. “What’s French for ‘The M&Ms are a complete pain in the behind’, Frankie?”

Frankie grinned. “I don’t think that’ll be in my phrasebook!”

“I hope we don’t have to go to loads and loads of boring museums in Paris!” Fliss moaned, passing round a bag of fun-size Wispa bars. “You know what teachers are like!”

“I bet there’s lots of interesting things to see, though,” Lyndz said.

“Oh, rats to boring museums!” Kenny bounced up and down in her seat. “I can’t wait to go to Disneyland Paris!”

We all started talking at once then. We were going to be in Paris for four days, and we were spending the very last day at Disneyland. We were all dying to see it, and go on all the best rides.

“Space Mountain is awesome.” Fliss looked a bit superior. She’s been to Disneyland Paris and Disneyworld in Florida. She goes on loads of holidays with her mum, her brother Callum and her mum’s boyfriend Andy. “And the parade of Disney characters is really cool too.”

“I want to see Honey, I Shrunk The Audience!” Frankie said. “That’s new, isn’t it?”

Fliss nodded. “That wasn’t there when I went.”

“Can I have a bit of quiet, please?” called Mrs Weaver, who was standing at the front of the minibus and waving her clipboard. We all shut up reluctantly to listen. We didn’t want to get on the wrong side of Mrs Weaver right from the start!

“Now, we’ll be boarding the train which will take us through the Channel Tunnel in about ten minutes,” Mrs Weaver went on. “Before we do, I’ve got something very important to say to you all.”

“Oh, here it comes!” Kenny groaned, “The Big Lecture!”

“Did you want to say something, Laura?” Mrs Weaver glared down the minibus in our direction.

“No, Miss,” Kenny muttered, and the M&Ms sniggered.

“Right, it goes without saying that I expect all of you to be on your very best behaviour.” Mrs Weaver glanced in our direction again. I don’t know why. “When you’re abroad, you are representing your country as well as your school, and we want to make a good impression, so…”

Kenny wasn’t listening. Suddenly she bent down in her seat, so that me, Fliss and Lyndz, who were behind her, couldn’t see what she was doing.

“What’s up with Kenny?” Lyndz hissed.

“Maybe she’s fainted!” Fliss giggled.

“Ssh!” Frankie turned round and winked at us. “Pass it on!”

We didn’t have a clue what was going on – until suddenly one of Emma’s posh leather bags appeared from under Kenny’s seat! Emma had been showing off about her matching luggage, and she’d put the smallest bag under her seat. Now Lyndz, who was sitting behind Kenny, bent down and pushed the bag backwards to me.

“Pass it on, Rosie!” she whispered.

I grabbed the bag and shoved it under my seat. Meanwhile, we all sat there listening to Mrs Weaver, and trying not to laugh.

“And although we want you to have a good time, there are a few important rules you all have to remember,” Mrs Weaver was saying sternly.

“My bag!” Emma Hughes jumped up from her seat. “Mrs Weaver, my bag’s gone!”

Kenny turned round and nodded to me, so I immediately pushed the bag back under the seat to Lyndz, who quickly pushed it back to Kenny. By the time Mrs Weaver made it to the back of the minibus, we were all sitting there, looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in our mouths.

“Where did you put your bag, Emma?” Mrs Weaver raised her eyebrows.

“Under my seat, Miss!” Emma said furiously, “And I bet I know who’s taken it too!” She turned round and glared at Kenny.

“Well, thanks very much!” Kenny said indignantly, and we all nearly bust a gut trying not to laugh.

Mrs Weaver bent down and looked under the Queen’s seat. “Is that the bag you’re looking for?” she asked in a frosty voice.

Emma bent over and took a look. “Er… yes!” she stammered. “But it wasn’t there before!” She jumped up from her seat, eyes narrowed, and shot Kenny an evil stare. “You took it!”

“No way!” Kenny retorted airily.

“Hm, well, no harm done as you’ve got the bag back safely, Emma.” But Mrs Weaver fixed us with a beady-eyed glare. “I hope you girls have been listening to what I’ve been saying? I want you all on your best behaviour and doing what you’re told without any exceptions. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Mrs Weaver,” we all chorused.

Mrs Weaver turned round and went back to the front of the bus.

Straightaway Kenny turned round and winked at the rest of us. “But that won’t stop us having the biggest sleepover of all time, will it!”

“We’re in!” Kenny yelled, grabbing the last Wispa bar from under Fliss’s nose. “Just think, there’s thousands and thousands of tons of water over our heads right at this very moment!”

“Oh, shut up, Kenny!” said Fliss. The train had just entered the Channel Tunnel, and everyone on the minibus had started whooping and cheering.

“You look a bit green, Fliss,” I said sympathetically.

“She’d look a lot greener if we were on top of the water instead of underneath it!” Kenny remarked, screwing up her chocolate wrapper. She leaned over the seat and dropped it gently on top of Emma’s head. Emma was talking to Emily and didn’t notice. “I wonder what would happen if the tunnel collapsed, and all the water came pouring in?”

“The French word for water is eau,” said Frankie, who had her nose in her phrasebook again. “Pronounced ‘oh’.”

Kenny clasped her hands and pretended to look scared. “Eau no! I’m up to my eyeballs in eau!”

“Oh, shut up, Kenny!” Fliss wailed, looking even greener, although she was giggling too. “The tunnel isn’t going to collapse on us!”

“It’d be just like Titanic, only worse!” Frankie said with a grin.

“Fliss wouldn’t mind if Leonardo DiCaprio came to save her!” Lyndz remarked, and we all fell about, even Fliss.

“Eek!” Emma Hughes had just realised that there was something on top of her hair,and she was shaking her head around like crazy. “Emily, is that a spider in my hair?”

“Keep still,” Emily instructed her, while the Sleepover Club chortled behind their seats. “No, it’s a Wispa wrapper!”

“What?” Emma shot to her feet, her face bright pink, and threw the wrapper back over the seats at Kenny. “You’re so childish, Laura McKenzie!”

“Me!” Kenny exclaimed. “How do you know it was me?”

Emma gave her a haughty stare, and then leaned across the aisle. Alana Banana Palmer was sitting in the seat opposite. She’s kind of a mate of the M&Ms, so that makes her kind of our enemy too. But we don’t exactly worry about her too much. Alana Banana’s too dozy to scare anyone!

“Alana, change seats with me and Emily,” Emma ordered.

“OK.” Alana Banana didn’t even bother arguing with Emma. She picked her bag up off the seat next to her, got up and moved across the aisle. Meanwhile, Emily and Emma picked up their bags too, and, giving us a smug look, switched seats.

“I could put a thousand Wispa wrappers on Alana’s head, and she’s so snoozy she wouldn’t notice!” Kenny whispered as Alana settled herself into the seat in front of her.

We all started laughing. Then Emma suddenly jumped to her feet again.

“Urggh! There’s chewing gum stuck on this seat!” she squealed, trying to look over her shoulder at her backside.

We all bounced up to have a look – and sure enough, there was a large wodge of pink chewing gum stuck to the back of Emma’s pedal-pushers. It looked like it had been well chewed too! We all roared.

“Alana, it must have been stuck to the bottom of your bag!” Emma snapped, her face as pink as the chewing gum.

“Oh, was it?” Alana said dozily.

“Nice one, Alana!” Kenny called, giving her a thumbs-up, and the Queen looked fit to bust.

The rest of the tunnel journey was pretty boring, because the teachers wouldn’t let us get off the minibus and explore, but at least it was only thirty-five minutes. Soon we were out of the tunnel and into the sunshine again, racing through the French countryside along the motorway.

“We’re in France!” Frankie announced. But although the countryside was quite pretty, it didn’t look that different from England. Anyway, motorways are the same boring concrete things wherever you go, aren’t they?

We were all getting a bit restless when suddenly Lyndz had a brill idea.

“The first person to spot the Eiffel Tower gets fifty pee – I mean fifty francs – from the rest of us!” she said.

“Fifty francs! Wow!” Frankie’s eyes lit up.

Lyndz looked a bit worried. “Why? How much is that?”

“About five pounds!” Frankie said with a grin.

“OK, ten francs then!” Lyndz said firmly.

Well, that made it a bit more interesting!

We all started looking at the roadsigns then, checking how many more kilometres it was to Paris. As we got closer and closer, we were all straining our eyes to get that first important look at the Eiffel Tower.

“There it is!” shouted Fliss, Lyndz and Kenny together as suddenly the Tower appeared in the distance!

Paris looked amazing. We couldn’t stop yelling and pointing out things to each other.

“Look!” Fliss squealed. “Look at all the shops! Look at all the designer labels!”

“There’s the Eiffel Tower again!” Kenny yelled, bouncing up and down in a frenzy.

“Where?” we all yelled back.

“There’s the River What-do-you-call-it!” I pointed out.

“The River Seine, actually!” Emma put in snootily, but we ignored her.

By the time we got to the hotel where we were staying, we were all well excited. Mrs Weaver was shooting everyone some pretty fierce glares as we drew up outside the hotel, and Mr Tate, who was driving the minibus,looked a bit of a nervous wreck. The traffic in Paris was pretty awesome!

“Right, our hotel should be just down here,” Mrs Weaver said.

We peered down the narrow side-street -and then we all did a double-take, including the teachers. The hotel was a tall, scary-looking old house with big high windows, and a massive wooden door. It looked like something out of The Addams Family.

“Is that it?” Fliss gasped. “It looks horrible!”

“Maybe it’s ha-au-au-au-aunted!” Kenny grinned and winked at the rest of us.

“I’m sure it’s very nice,” said Mrs Weaver firmly as the minibus drew to a halt. “No, stay where you are, please! I’m going to tell the owner, Madame Dupont, that we have arrived.”

“I wish we were staying somewhere else,” Fliss shivered as Mrs Weaver climbed off the coach. You know what Fliss is like about scary, spooky places and stuff!

“Nah, it’ll be good!” Kenny assured her.“I bet there’s some old attics right at the top of the house – we might find a brilliant place to have a big sleepover party!”

Fliss groaned, and Lyndz wasn’t looking too thrilled either. Neither was I, actually. The house really did look spooky.

Just then, a woman in a maid’s uniform came outside to put a bag of rubbish in the bin. Frankie giggled.

“Check her out!”

The maid looked like one of the Addams Family! She was tall and bony, with a grim face and bushy black eyebrows. She saw us all sitting on the minibus, but she didn’t smile. She just dropped the rubbish in the bin, and stomped back inside.

“I don’t like it here!” Fliss whispered, looking even more panicked. Right at that moment, though, Mrs Weaver came out again.

“Stay where you are until I call your names, please.” She consulted her clipboard. “Laura, Frankie, Felicity, Lyndsey and Rosie, you get off first, please.” Grinning smugly at the M&Ms, we picked up our bags and rushed off the minibus.

“You’re in a room together on the top floor,” Mrs Weaver went on, and we all glanced at each other in delight. Being in a room together would make it really easy to have a brilliant sleepover! Only Fliss didn’t look too thrilled.

“The top floor?” she said in a wobbly voice. “We’re not in an old and dusty attic, are we?”

Mrs Weaver frowned. “Of course not, Felicity! Now here’s Pascal, who’s the son of the owner…”

A boy with dark hair came out of the hotel entrance. He was about a year or so older than us, and quite good-looking, I suppose -if you like boys!

“He’s going to show you the way to your room.”

“Oh, right!” said Fliss, brightening up a bit. She pretends she doesn’t like boys that much, but she’s not a very good fibber!

“Bonjour” said Pascal.

“Bonjour,” we all chorused. That was about all the French we knew!

“At least he looks normal!” Kenny remarked as we followed him into the big hotel lobby. “Not like that scary maid with the caterpillar eyebrows!”

“Ssh!” Lyndz nudged her. “He might understand what you’re saying!”

“Oh, I bet he doesn’t speak English.” Kenny winked at us, then turned to Pascal. “Do you speak English?”

Pascal shrugged. “Je ne comprends pas.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“You know English?” Kenny repeated, waving her hands around.

Pascal shook his head.

“He doesn’t!” Kenny said triumphantly. “Maybe we should teach him some. Hey, Pascal! Say ‘Leicester City are the best football team in the whole world’!”

Pascal grinned. “Leicester Ceety…” he began, then he stopped and looked puzzled.

“That’s too hard for him, Kenny!” Frankie said impatiently. “Hey, Pascal, say ‘Emma Hughes stinks’!”

“Emma Yoos steenks,” said Pascal obediently, and we all roared with laughter.

The hotel was OK inside. At least it wasn’t too much like a haunted house! All the furniture and the wallpaper was really old-fashioned, but it was very clean. Fliss cheered up a bit, but her face soon fell again as Pascal led us up three dark, gloomy flights of stairs to our bedroom.

The bedroom was quite nice. It had a double bed and three singles, all crammed in together. There were flowery quilts on the bed, and matching curtains at the window, which gave us a brilliant view over the rooftops of Paris. We could even see the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

“Who’s sharing?” Kenny asked, bouncing up and down on the double bed.

“I’m not sleeping with Lyndz – she hiccups in the night!” said Fliss immediately.

“I’m not sleeping with Kenny – she’s got freezing feet!” I put in.

“I’m not sleeping with Fliss – she snores!” Frankie said. “Sometimes,” she added, as Fliss gave her a furious look.

“I’ll share with Lyndz,” Kenny suggested. “Then if she hiccups in the night, I can put my cold feet on her and give her a shock!”

We all agreed, so Frankie, Fliss and I bagged one each of the single beds.

“Hey, Pascal!” Frankie called. “Say this –‘I’ve got a big spot on my bottom’!”

“I’ve got a beeg spot on my bottom!” Pascal repeated, looking very pleased with himself. We all tried not to laugh too hard in case he caught on.

“‘Bye!” Kenny called as he went out. “Be careful how you sit down!”

We all fell about when the door closed.

“I think we’re going to have some fun with Pascal!” Frankie spluttered.

Just then the door opened again and we all sat up. The scary maid stomped in, carrying two of our suitcases as if they were as light as a feather. She looked sourly at us, dropped the cases on the floor and went out again.

“Well, she’s a right laugh, isn’t she!” said Lyndz.

“She’s spooky!” Fliss said with a shiver.

“Yeah, maybe she’s really a zombie!” Kenny suggested eagerly. “Maybe she’ll creep into our room at night and—”

“Kenny!” Fliss wailed. “Is there a lock on the door?”

We all rushed over to have a look. But then we noticed something else. Just past our door, there was another long, dusty, winding staircase, which went up right over our heads and then wound out of sight.

“Wow!” Kenny breathed. “That must go right up to the attic. Let’s go and take a look!”

Fliss didn’t look too happy, and I wasn’t that keen myself. Meanwhile Lyndz was looking at a sign on the wall.

“Entrée interdite au public” she read. “What does that mean?”

“Maybe it means – this way to the haunted attic!” Kenny suggested, with a wicked gleam in her eye.

“No, it doesn’t.” Frankie had gone back into the bedroom to get her phrasebook. “It means we can’t go up there. It’s private.”

Fliss looked relieved.

“Oh, well…” Kenny grinned round at us. “We’ll just have to wait until tomorrow night when we have our first sleepover, won’t we? Then we’ll be able to explore!”

“I’m sure I heard noises coming from that attic last night!”

Frankie sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. It was morning, and the sunshine was streaming through the windows. We all sat up in our beds and stared at her.

“You’re making it up!” Fliss said fearfully.

I hadn’t heard anything at all. By the time we’d unpacked and then had something to eat, we were all pretty tired and I’d slept really soundly.

“No, I did!” Frankie insisted. “It was just after we’d gone to bed, but all the rest of you were snoring your heads off!”

“I reckon you’re having us on,” Kenny said.

“No, I’m not!” Frankie insisted, but we all chucked our pillows in her direction and then jumped on her.

We were starving, so we dashed down to breakfast at eight o’clock sharp. The rest of the school party were just coming in too, along with the teachers, and there were a few other guests in the dining room, mostly Japanese and British tourists. We managed to bag a table on our own, well away from the M&Ms and the teachers.

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