Salut tout le monde! Je mâappelle Rosie, et jâai une super histoire à vous raconter sur les vacances du Sleepover Club à Paris!
No, donât get your knickers in a twist â you havenât 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 didnât go all that smoothly. In fact, just about everything that could go wrong did! But Iâd better start right at the beginningâ¦
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, donât you? Thereâs Frankie, Kenny, Fliss, Lyndz and me (Rosie), and we sleep over at each otherâs houses at the weekends.
âWhatâs up with Weaver?â Kenny said crossly as Mrs Weaver started rooting around in her desk instead of letting us go. âI want to go home!â
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.
âSorry to keep you waiting,â she said, picking up a pile of papers. âBut I have some letters for your parents here.â
âBoring!â Frankie whispered with a huge yawn.
âThe school is organising a trip to Paris next half-term for this year group,â Mrs Weaver went on. âAnd we need to know how many of you would be interested in going.â
Well, that wasnât boring! We all looked at each other in delight. Our last school trip abroad, to Spain, had been cool â and we were all up for some more!
âExcellent!â Kenny said. âIâm definitely going!â
âMe too!â I put in.
âIâm going to ask my mum and dad if I can go,â Lyndz added.
âI wonder if we get to go to Disneyland Paris?â Frankie asked, looking excited.
âOh, Iâve been there,â said Fliss. âItâs fab!â
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. Weâve kind of started having sleepovers in different places whenever we can. Weâve 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 â and none of us was going to miss that!
âWhen are we going to have our French sleepover then?â
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.
âShut up, Kenny!â hissed Frankie.
âYeah, shut up, Bigmouth!â Lyndz added.
âIf Mrs Weaver hears that, sheâll go ballistic,â Fliss said nervously. âAfter the school trip to Spain, I bet she watches us all the time.â
âDo you remember when Mrs Weaver caught us right in the middle of the Spanish sleepover?â Kenny grinned. âShe looked pretty spooky in her nightie!â
âSsh!â 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 hadnât 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.
âWe wonât get caught this time,â Frankie said confidently.
âMaybe weâll all be in the same room,â Lyndz said hopefully. âThatâd make it easier.â
âWhat are we going to do at a French sleepover anyway?â I asked.
âEat snails!â Kenny suggested with an evil gleam in her eye.
âUrgh! No way!â Fliss turned pale.
âDo you know what âsnailâ is in French?â Frankie asked, pulling a French phrasebook out of her bag. We all groaned loudly.
âOh, youâre not going to bore us to death again, are you!â 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. âEscargot,â she said, âThatâs French for snail.â
âWell, Iâm not eating any escargots at our sleepover,â Fliss said firmly.
âWe could have French bread and cheese,â Lyndz suggested.
âAnd onions,â I added.
âHey, Iâve got a great idea!â Kenny announced. âWe can dance the Can-Can!â
âDonât you have to show your knickers when you do the Can-Can?â Fliss giggled.
âThat depends on how high you can kick!â Kenny started humming the Can-Can tune, and kicking up her legs against the seat in front of her. âDa, da, de-de-de-de da, da!â
âDo you mind, Laura McKenzie!â Emma Hughes bounced up out of the seat in front of Kenny, and glared at her. âYouâre kicking me!â