Brilliant! Itâs you! Iâve been looking everywhere for you. Howâs it going? Or should I say âHoots mon! Och aye the noo! And âDonald whereâs yer troosersâ!â Hey, hey, hey â youâre thinking that old Kennyâs finally lost it, arenât you? Go on admit it! Well youâre wrong, so very wrong. All Iâm trying to do is set the scene a bit, you know, get you in the mood for our latest Sleepover adventure.
Whadayamean, it sounds like the weirdest adventure yet if we all end up talking gibberish in a strange accent? That was a Scottish accent, dummy, and I am half-Scottish so I should know what Iâm talking about.
I know the others wanted to see you first so they could spill the beans. Frankie always thinks that she should be the storyteller, just because she fancies herself as a bit of an actress. And Fliss, well, I know that she wanted to tell you about it, because she says that only she can begin to describe how scary it really was. (Thatâs just because sheâs a big scaredy-cat herself. You should have seen her this time. Talk about quivering mess!) Rosie was pretty carried away by the adventure too, she was so glad that her mum had let her come. But I guess if anyone other than moi was going to tell you the story, it should be Lyndz. You see, itâs kind of because of her that it happened in the first place.
Now I donât know about you, but I think that autumn half-term is often a major letdown. The weatherâs usually wet and windy, so you canât spend too much time outdoors. The nights are drawing in so your parents start panicking about you being home early. Summerâs so far away you can barely remember it, and Christmas is just a bit of a twinkle in the distance. And basically youâre kind of stuck in the middle.
I canât ever remember going away during autumn half-term before, but this year Dad asked us one night over dinner:
âHow does a week in Scotland grab you?â
âOoh I know this one, donât help me!â I piped up. âIs the answer something like âunder your kiltâ?â
Mum, Dad, my oldest sister Emma and my yuckiest sister Molly, all stared at me with open mouths. (Mollyâs was still full of mashed potato so it wasnât a pretty sight!)
âNo Kenny,â said Dad at last. âThis isnât a joke. Weâve decided that this year weâre going to spend a few days with Great Uncle Bob.â
I could tell by Mumâs face that it was more a case of Dad deciding that we were going, there was no we about it.
Weâd often talked about going to stay with Great Uncle Bob in the past, but Mum had always come up with a million and one reasons why we couldnât. Whenever I asked her what Great Uncle Bob was like, she thought for about half an hour, her face becoming more and more agitated, before finally saying something like, âHeâs very eccentric,â through gritted teeth.
âItâll be great fun!â Dad reassured us, trying his best to ignore Mumâs black looks. âWeâll be there for Bobâs annual party. Itâs a real treat by all accounts.â
âIs it his birthday or something?â Molly asked, all shiny-eyed with enthusiasm (puke!).
âNo, itâs a tradition he started some years ago,â Dad explained. âOn the last Saturday in October, he invites everyone from the next village to join him for a massive shindig before winter sets in.â
âCool!â Molly gushed.
My sisterâs enthusiasm just about made me want to throw up. Itâs not that Iâm a misery guts or anything. In fact thereâs usually no one who enjoys a good party more than me. Itâs just that I was kind of worried about someone and I knew that it wouldnât exactly be fiesta-time in their household over half-term.
Youâre not going to believe it when I tell you that the person I was worried about was Lyndz. Yes Lyndz, our Lyndz, Sleepover Lyndz! I knew youâd be shocked. Sheâs just about the happiest person around, isnât she? Normally. But things werenât normal at Lyndzâs place any more. You see, her mum was being a bit â well, weird, basically.
Now you know Lyndzâs mum, donât you? Isnât she just about the most laid-back person on the planet? I mean, my mum has always said she doesnât know how Mrs Collins copes with bringing up five children. (Yep, Lyndz has four brothers, two older than she is and two younger.)
Not only that, but Mrs Collins also works, running a class teaching women how to have babies. She helps out at the local playgroup too. Lyndzâs house is always in a mess â part of it is either being pulled down or built up. Mrs Collins just takes it all in her stride and bakes cakes and stuff even though the roofâs falling down around her ears. And when we have sleepovers at Lyndzâs, sheâs really cool because she says she loves having girls around the place.