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The Sleepover Club on the Farm
Sue Mongredien
Join the Sleepover Club: Frankie, Kenny, Felicity, Rosie and Lyndsey, five girls who want to have fun – but who always end up in mischief!The Sleepover Club goes down on the farm, where Lyndz’s brother Stuart works in his spare time. It’s lambing season, so they’re thrilled with the cute baby lambs. But one of the ewes isn’t very well – will she pull through?
The Sleepover Club
on the Farm
by Sue Mongredien
CONTENTS
Cover (#u424ea271-63bf-566d-aa23-961d038466cf)
Title Page (#uf18b4208-ea22-5185-9715-e716dc710938)
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
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Baa! It’s Lyndsey Lamb here. No, don’t worry, you haven’t picked up one of those books about talking animals by mistake. It’s me, Lyndz from the Sleepover Club, really. I’m normally plain old Lyndz Collins, but ever since us Sleepover girls hung out on Mr Mackintosh’s farm, the others have been calling me Lyndsey Lamb or Lambkin. And if Kenny’s being horrible, she’ll call me Lamb Chop!
Still, I’m not the only one to have got a silly new name. Uh-uh. Meet the rest of the club – that’s Kenny Cow, Rosie Ram, Frankie Frog and Flissy Foal! Us five are best mates and do everything together – well, most of the time anyway. More about THAT later …
I’ve just got a bit of time before my riding lesson to tell you all about our farm adventures. D’you know, until we went there, I’d always dreamed of being a famous jockey when I grow up, or running my own stables, or working in an animal rescue centre. But guess what I want to do now? Yep – live on a farm! I think it would be awesome being with so many animals all day, every day. Wouldn’t it be fantastic?
But that’s me. I absolutely LURVE animals. All of them – big, small, furry, woolly, wild, tame, claws, paws, hooves, whatever. Do you know what? I even think Kenny’s pet rat Merlin is cute, which is a bit unusual. Me and Kenny seem to be the only two people in the world who aren’t scared of him!
Not everyone’s like that, though. If you asked Fliss if she’d like to live on a farm, she’d shudder and say, “No way!” She has dreams of living in a house like Posh and Becks when she’s older – preferably when she’s married to Ryan Scott from school! In fact, I reckon Fliss would actually like to be the next Posh Spice so she could buy as many clothes as she wants to. Now that’s HER idea of heaven. Funny, isn’t it, how different people are?
Lucky for me that the rest of the Sleepover Club were mad keen on the idea of a farm sleepover too, or we might never have got there. Frankie and Kenny love doing anything that’s a bit out of the ordinary, and Rosie is always up for a bit of fun, so once I’d got those three on my side, that was that. No stopping us!
Anyway, let me begin at the beginning, as Mrs Weaver, our teacher, always says. It all started when we were having a sleepover at my house one Friday night. We were in my bedroom playing a game of Cat’s Got The Measles when Mum shouted up the stairs that it was tea.
“Result!” Kenny cheered, rushing for the door. “I am sooo Hank Marvin.”
“Who’s he?” Fliss wanted to know. She was looking very puzzled.
“Hank Marvin – starving, geddit?” Kenny replied. “It’s rhyming slang, isn’t it?”
Fliss didn’t look convinced. “Is it?” she asked.
“’Course it is,” Kenny answered. “Honestly, Fliss, don’t you ever watch EastEnders?”
“Yes, but …” Fliss was still frowning. “You’re weird, Kenny. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”
Downstairs, Mum was dishing up bangers, mash and beans. Everyone was already sitting around the table except my big brother Stuart. He was late home from school again, and boy, did Mum look cross about it.
“Where’s that son of mine got to?” she grumbled, putting his plate in the oven to keep warm. “I told him to phone me if he was going to be late.”
“He’s probably stopped off at the farm, lucky thing,” I said, spearing a sausage and biting the end off. Yum!
“Lyndz, cut your food up properly,” Mum said at once. She’s got a biiiiig thing about table manners, my mum. She says it’s like feeding time at the zoo when our family sits down to eat. “Anyway, he still should have phoned me. He knows I only worry when he doesn’t.”
Stuart is still at school but works on Mr Mackintosh’s farm down the road in his spare time. He’s like me, he loves animals and wants to be a farmer when he’s older. Awesome! I hope he does. It’ll mean I’ll be visiting him – and his animals, of course – ALL the time!
I’d been nagging him for absolutely ages to let me visit the farm with him because lambing season was about to start and I was dying to see some baby lambs. Soooo cute! Aren’t baby animals simply THE most adorable things in the world? But even though I kept going on at him, Stu kept on putting me off, saying they were too busy at the farm to let little girls mess around. Little girls, indeed! Sometimes I hate boys.
Anyway, so we were just getting stuck into our tea when we heard a key turn in the front door. It was Stuart – at last.
“Nice of you to join us,” my dad muttered sarcastically as Stu came in, his face all pink from the cold.
“Why didn’t you phone?” Mum said, rushing to get his plate out of the oven. “Here – sit down. Your tea’s still warm.”
“Thanks, Mum,” he said, taking his coat off and sitting down. “I did try and phone you but the line was engaged for ages.”
I went bright red then. Oops! That had been me. I’d phoned up this horoscope line to get the Sleepover Club horoscopes for the week, only the call seemed to last forever and ever. All five of us have got different star signs, you see, so I had to listen to all of them, didn’t I?
“Sorry I’m late. I got chatting to Mrs Mack, up at the farm,” he went on. “I just dropped in to say hello but ended up helping her out for a bit. Bad news – one of the ewes is really ill and has had her lambs early. They’re tiny – and because the ewe is so ill, she can’t feed them.”
“Ahhhhh!” I said, biting my lip in concern. “Poor little lamby babies!”
“Poor poor lamby-wammies,” Kenny said, teasing me.
“The teeny tiny little wittle baby lambykins have a poorly mummy!” Frankie added, with a grin.
I was about to get all indignant, but Stuart spoke before I could think of a crushing reply. “Actually, Lyndz, Mrs Mack was asking about you,” he said. “Asking if you were very busy tomorrow.”
“No, not really,” I said in surprise. “Just a riding lesson. Why?”
“Well, she was wondering if you might like to help out with the – what was it? – the poor little wittle baby lambykins,” he said. “She’ll have to bottle-feed them until their mum gets better and she remembered how soppy you are about baby animals so …”
“Whoopeee!” I yelled, jumping up from the table and sending my fork flying. “Too right I’ll help out!” This great big enormous beam stretched over my face from ear to ear and I started jigging up and down in excitement. “Feeding baby lambs! Awesome!”
Stuart grinned at me. “Oh, that’s a shame, I told her you would probably be too busy,” he said. “I know you aren’t really that keen on baby animals …”
“WHAT?!” I yelled, stopping dead still. “Are you mad?”
“He’s winding you up,” Dad said, patting me on the arm reassuringly. “Don’t take any notice of him.”
“Oh! Phew! Oh!” I said, smiling again. “Stu – you pig!”
“Talking of pigs, do you think you can finish your tea without flinging any more cutlery around?” Mum sighed. “I bet those farm animals have better table manners than you, Lyndsey Collins. Come on – the sooner you finish it off, the sooner you can phone Mrs Mack and talk about tomorrow.”
Well, you’ve never seen anyone polish off three sausages, a pile of mash and a plate full of baked beans so quick before. No more talking – I just gobbled the lot down as if my life depended on it. But then I had to wait for everyone else to finish, and THEN I had to sit through pudding as well.
I was too excited to eat anything else but Mum wouldn’t let me leave the table until everyone had finished eating. Manners again, you see! And that meant waiting for my little brother Ben, aged four, who’s just the slowest eater in Cuddington. First, he made a well in his mashed potato. Then he scooped up all his beans and put them in the well. Then he said he didn’t want any more and so I had to watch while Dad did the old “Open wide, here comes the choo-choo train” game to feed him mouthfuls of sausage. TYPICAL!
At long last, Mum said we could all leave the table, and us Sleepover girls went in the living room. “Yay!” I shouted, dancing around. “Isn’t that cool about me going to bottle-feed those cute little lambs? Can you imagine?”
“Yeah, lucky thing,” Rosie said. “I bet they’re really cuddly and sweet.”
“That’s if they don’t have fleas, of course,” Fliss said, with a shudder. Like I told you, she’s not big on nature.
“D’you know, I’ve never seen a real lamb before,” Kenny said. “Well, apart from one with mint sauce and gravy on it, of course.”
“Oh, KENNY!” everyone groaned.
“I’ve never even been on a FARM before,” Frankie said, quickly changing the subject. “What’s Mr Mackintosh’s farm like?”
“Well, he’s got loads of cows and sheep,” I said, trying to remember. Then I had a brilliant idea. PING! Flashing lightbulb over the head! “Hey – why don’t you lot come with me? Why don’t we make it a Sleepover Club day at the farm?”
“Yeah!” “Coo-ell!” “Wicked!” Frankie, Rosie and Kenny shouted at once. But one person was silent.
“Fliss?” I said, turning to her. “Do you fancy it?”
“Well …” she began.
“I’m sure the lambs don’t have fleas,” Rosie said reassuringly. “Well, not too many anyway.”
“And we won’t let any cows try and eat you,” Kenny said. “JOKE, Fliss!” she added quickly, as Fliss’s mouth fell open in alarm.
“Go on, Fliss,” I urged her. “We can see the ducklings. Stuart said there are loads. And there might be some cute little chicks!”
“Well …” she said again.
“And if you DON’T come, we’ll tell everyone at school that you’re scared of a few titchy-witchy baby lambs,” Frankie said, raising her eyebrows threateningly.
“All right, all right,” Fliss said at once. “And don’t be so silly – of course I’m not scared of lambs.”
“What about big angry bulls?” Kenny said, making little horns on her head with her fingers. “Big angry bulls that come CHARGING towards you!”
Fliss squealed and darted to the side as Kenny lowered her head and ran straight at her. “Kenny!” she squeaked. “What are you doing?”
Kenny lowered her head again and chased Fliss around the table. “Getting you ready for our day at the farm,” she said, with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You can’t let a bull see that you’re scared of it, Fliss. They’re like dogs – they can SMELL the fear, you know. MOOOOO!”
“Don’t take any notice of her, Fliss,” I said, pushing Kenny out of the way. “The bull won’t hurt you.”
“Just don’t wear red,” Frankie said wamingly. “They hate red.”
“What about navy blue?” Fliss asked at once, looking worried. “Do they hate navy blue? Because I was going to wear my blue jacket tomorrow and …”
“Navy blue, did you say?” Rosie said. She shook her head anxiously. “Ooh, no. Bulls HATE navy blue. It sends them crazy.”
“No, it doesn’t, Fliss, she’s teasing,” I said, as Fliss was starting to look terrified. The last thing I wanted was for her to back out of the whole thing. “Honestly, trust me, we don’t even have to go NEAR the bull. We don’t even have to look at it! Now, don’t anyone say anything else horrible to Fliss while I phone Mrs Mack. I mean it! And anyway, she might not say you lot can come at all.”
They all went quiet at that. Ha! The power of Lyndz! I didn’t mean to be bossy but I knew that if Fliss got too flustered and scared, she’d put her foot down and wouldn’t come with us. And Fliss gets very stubborn when she wants to. I quickly dialled the farm number before anyone said anything in return.
“Mrs Mackintosh, hello, it’s Lyndsey Collins here,” I said when she answered. “Stuart told me about the lambs – how are they?”
“Not so bad, just missing their mummy,” she replied. “They were born a bit early so they’re quite small, and they need lots of looking after, which is why I was wondering if you’d like to help me feed them. What do you think? Could you spare a bit of time tomorrow to come over?”
“Yes, PLEASE!” I said at once. Mrs Mack was asking me like she thought I’d be doing her a favour, when really it was going to be the best treat I’d had in ages. “But the only thing is, I’m having a sleepover with some friends tonight. Would they… er… would you mind… could they …?” I didn’t quite know how to ask without sounding dead cheeky.
“Oh, bring them along with you if they want to come,” Mrs Mack said at once. “The more the merrier!”
I grinned at the others and made the thumbs-up sign. “Are you sure? Oh, that’s brilliant. Thank you!”
“Look forward to seeing you all tomorrow then,” she said cheerily. “But bring some wellies, won’t you? The farm’s quite muddy at the moment.”
“Will do,” I said. I could hardly get the words out, I was feeling so excited. “See you tomorrow.”
I put the phone down and twirled about happily. “Hooray!” I cheered.
“Let me guess, she said no, you can’t bring your smelly sleepover friends along,” Kenny joked.
“No, I bet she said you could bring all your NICE sleepover friends along, apart from that smelly Kenny McKenzie girl,” Frankie said, sticking her tongue out at Kenny. “She didn’t want the animals to be too, like, frightened.”
“Nope, you’re both wrong,” I said. “We are sooo invited! We’re all going to the farm. And we’re going tomorrow. How about that?”
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Coo-ell! Everyone started getting really excited about going to the farm, even Fliss. What a miracle! “I’m going to send my mum a text message to tell her,” she announced importantly. Fliss got this wicked mobile in the summer, and uses it at every single opportunity. Her biggest complaint at the moment is that none of the rest of us have got mobiles yet, so she can’t message any of us – but as she sees us nearly every day, I don’t really know why she wants to.
