thought I was going to wet myself.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” grinned Frankie. “Mrs Poole loved it.”
“She ADORES us,” said Rosie.
“She was putty in our hands,” sang Lyndz.
“Of course,” I giggled. “We’re the coolest girls in the school!”
Kenny checked her watch. “We’ve got exactly ten minutes. I reckon that gives us just enough time to track down Dishy Dave.”
Our caretaker’s real name is Mr Coleman, but all us lot call him Dishy Dave. Apart from being unusually young and good-looking for a school caretaker, he’s a brilliant person to have on your side! Honestly, that man can do just about ANYTHING!
After our useful chat with Dave, we had to go and face Mrs Weaver. Our teacher has a really suspicious mind. Do you know what she said when we told her our plans? She said, “Hmmn. This is all a bit sudden. Ten minutes in a protest camp and you’re all born-again eco-warriors!”
As the others probably told you, Mrs Weaver isn’t
nearly
such a soft touch as our head. However, since Mrs Poole was rooting for us, Mrs Weaver couldn’t exactly make a fuss. About us getting off lessons, I mean. But boy, did that woman come down hard on us in maths!
It was worth it though. We were having
excellent
fun with the M&Ms and their loyal poodles, Alana and Regina.
You wouldn’t believe how easy it is to lead the M&Ms up the garden path. Those girls are so in love with themselves, they truly believe everyone else is a total dimwit.
All we had to do was let them accidentally ‘overhear’ our private conversation in the girls’ toilets!
You’ve got to picture us washing our hands
incredibly
slowly, OK? And behind a row of locked doors, the M&Ms, plus Alana and Regina, were all silently earwigging like crazy.
“I wish I’d never heard of ecology, don’t you, Frankie?” said Kenny, winking at Frankie.
“Totally, Kenny,” agreed Frankie, sounding stressed out. “Izzy still wakes us a billion times a night. I’m really having trouble coping with this project on top of having a new baby sister.” She nudged me.
“I just had no idea ecology would be so hard,” I whined, making my voice weedier and more gerbil-like than usual. Then I pulled a face at Lyndz.
Lyndz sighed dramatically. “It IS a mega responsibility, Fliss. Still, it’s too late to wriggle out of it. We’ve just got to do the best we can.”
Rosie gave an Oscar-winning sob. “Face it, you guys. Even with all the extra time Mrs Poole gave us, there’s no way we’ll pull this thing together by Saturday. It’s going to be a disaster.”
And we shuffled away in a deeply tragic manner!!
At dinner time, the M&Ms kept darting really cocky looks in our direction. It was totally obvious they were talking about us.
“Heh heh heh. I think we got a result, guys,” chortled Kenny.
By the way, I don’t know about the others, but I wasn’t totally putting it on earlier. I really WAS worried the Sleepover Club had bitten off more than it could chew! We’d given ourselves an absolutely outrageous amount to do in a ridiculously short time.
I don’t think I’ve ever worked so hard in my life as I did in that poky stockroom Mrs Poole was letting us use for a base.
On Wednesday afternoon, Dishy Dave tapped on the stockroom door. He looked dead pleased with himself. “Come and tell me what you think,” he said.
We followed him into the hall.
“
Coo-ell!
” said Kenny.
“The wood’s pretty rough. I found it in a skip.” Dave grinned and tapped the side of his nose. “But you can’t really see it behind the curtains.”
Lyndz’s mum had donated the curtains. They were made of dark green velvet and were incredibly long. As well as hanging them from the sides of his structure, Dave had draped some over the top as well.
It reminded me of those cute little dens I made when I was little. Remember them? The kind where you sling a blanket over two chairs and crawl inside and play house! (Only obviously Dave’s
“It worked, didn’t it?” grinned Frankie. “Mrs Poole loved it.”
“She ADORES us,” said Rosie.
“She was putty in our hands,” sang Lyndz.
“Of course,” I giggled. “We’re the coolest girls in the school!”
Kenny checked her watch. “We’ve got exactly ten minutes. I reckon that gives us just enough time to track down Dishy Dave.”
Our caretaker’s real name is Mr Coleman, but all us lot call him Dishy Dave. Apart from being unusually young and good-looking for a school caretaker, he’s a brilliant person to have on your side! Honestly, that man can do just about ANYTHING!
After our useful chat with Dave, we had to go and face Mrs Weaver. Our teacher has a really suspicious mind. Do you know what she said when we told her our plans? She said, “Hmmn. This is all a bit sudden. Ten minutes in a protest camp and you’re all born-again eco-warriors!”
As the others probably told you, Mrs Weaver isn’t
nearly
such a soft touch as our head. However, since Mrs Poole was rooting for us, Mrs Weaver couldn’t exactly make a fuss. About us getting off lessons, I mean. But boy, did that woman come down hard on us in maths!
It was worth it though. We were having
excellent
fun with the M&Ms and their loyal poodles, Alana and Regina.
You wouldn’t believe how easy it is to lead the M&Ms up the garden path. Those girls are so in love with themselves, they truly believe everyone else is a total dimwit.
All we had to do was let them accidentally ‘overhear’ our private conversation in the girls’ toilets!
You’ve got to picture us washing our hands
incredibly
slowly, OK? And behind a row of locked doors, the M&Ms, plus Alana and Regina, were all silently earwigging like crazy.
“I wish I’d never heard of ecology, don’t you, Frankie?” said Kenny, winking at Frankie.
“Totally, Kenny,” agreed Frankie, sounding stressed out. “Izzy still wakes us a billion times a night. I’m really having trouble coping with this project on top of having a new baby sister.” She nudged me.
“I just had no idea ecology would be so hard,” I whined, making my voice weedier and more gerbil-like than usual. Then I pulled a face at Lyndz.
Lyndz sighed dramatically. “It IS a mega responsibility, Fliss. Still, it’s too late to wriggle out of it. We’ve just got to do the best we can.”
Rosie gave an Oscar-winning sob. “Face it, you guys. Even with all the extra time Mrs Poole gave us, there’s no way we’ll pull this thing together by Saturday. It’s going to be a disaster.”
And we shuffled away in a deeply tragic manner!!
At dinner time, the M&Ms kept darting really cocky looks in our direction. It was totally obvious they were talking about us.
“Heh heh heh. I think we got a result, guys,” chortled Kenny.
By the way, I don’t know about the others, but I wasn’t totally putting it on earlier. I really WAS worried the Sleepover Club had bitten off more than it could chew! We’d given ourselves an absolutely outrageous amount to do in a ridiculously short time.
I don’t think I’ve ever worked so hard in my life as I did in that poky stockroom Mrs Poole was letting us use for a base.
On Wednesday afternoon, Dishy Dave tapped on the stockroom door. He looked dead pleased with himself. “Come and tell me what you think,” he said.
We followed him into the hall.
“
Coo-ell!
” said Kenny.
“The wood’s pretty rough. I found it in a skip.” Dave grinned and tapped the side of his nose. “But you can’t really see it behind the curtains.”
Lyndz’s mum had donated the curtains. They were made of dark green velvet and were incredibly long. As well as hanging them from the sides of his structure, Dave had draped some over the top as well.
It reminded me of those cute little dens I made when I was little. Remember them? The kind where you sling a blanket over two chairs and crawl inside and play house! (Only obviously Dave’s
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