Sleepover Girls Go Designer. Narinder Dhami

just a bit too sharp.

      “I hope not,” Mrs Thomas said briskly, “because when you start putting your heads together like that, it usually means trouble!”

      I couldn’t help starting to worry then. Just a bit. I mean, I’d never done any kind of decorating before. The only thing I’d ever painted were pictures at school (and I wasn’t too hot at that either). Still, I told myself, Frankie and Lyndz knew what to do because they’d helped their parents lots of times. And as Kenny said, how hard could slapping a bit of paint around be?

      “You want to go to bed now?” My mum stared at us in amazement. “But it’s only half-past eight!”

      “But we’re dead tired, Mrs Cartwright!” Kenny said pathetically, and we all started yawning and rubbing our eyes.

      “All right, all right, spare me the amateur dramatics!” my mum said, shaking her head. “Off you go – and whatever you’re up to, don’t make too much noise about it. I’ve got an essay to write.”

      “Excellent!” I said in a low voice to Kenny. “That means she’ll be working in the study – and that’s right over the other side of the house.”

      We all piled into the living-room so that the others could grab their sleepover bags. Since we’d got back from the ice rink, we’d done all the usual sleepover-type things. We’d had tea, and, because it was Saturday, we’d watched Gladiators, and then we’d played our own Gladiator games. Kenny had come up with a new one. Two people stood on one leg on chairs facing each other, and then they whacked each other with cushions until one fell off. It was really radical.

      Although we were having a laugh, as usual, I could hardly wait to get upstairs and get started on my bedroom. I reckoned I’d put up with it looking gross for too long already.

      “Come on then!” Kenny yelled, slinging her sleepover bag over her shoulder. We all charged up the stairs and burst into my bedroom, giggling and pushing each other out of the way. As soon as we were inside, everyone stopped and stared. The walls were plaster, the woodwork was scraped bare, and there was a pile of stuff lying in the corner.

      “What’s all that?” Kenny asked.

      “That’s my dad’s decorating gear,” I explained. “He left it here.”

      “So we’ve got everything we need – excellent!” Kenny went over to have a look, and picked up a roll of wallpaper. “Hey, Frankie, check this out – this is cool!”

      The wallpaper I’d chosen was a lilac colour with little silver flowers on it, and I’d matched it with a darker purple paint for the woodwork. (Dad had been talking about a silvery-grey carpet too, but he hadn’t got it yet. Typical.) I couldn’t wait to see what everything looked like together.

      “Come on, then, let’s get started!” Kenny said, grabbing a packet of wallpaper paste.

      “Hold on a sec, Kenny!” said Frankie. “We need to decide who’s going to do what.”

      “And we’ve got to decide what we’re going to do first,” Lyndz added.

      “And we need to change our clothes,” Fliss said firmly.

      “Oh, you lot are so bor-ing!” Kenny moaned, putting the wallpaper down. “Give us some old clothes then, Rosie.”

      I went over to my big wardrobe, and pulled out an old pair of leggings and a sweatshirt for myself. I didn’t have anything much for the others though – until I remembered my old bag of dressing-up clothes which was pushed right to the back. I dragged it out and put it in the middle of the room.

      “Oh, wow!” said Frankie, putting her hand into the bag and pulling out a big hat with flowers all over it. “This is brilliant!”

      Fliss peered into the bag, and let out an ear-shattering scream. “There’s—there’s a head in there!”

      “Calm down, Fliss!” Lyndz said quickly. “It’s just a wig!” She grabbed hold of the long dark hair and pulled it out. “Rosie, what is all this stuff?”

      “It’s my dressing-up clothes,” I explained. “I used to play with them when I was little.”

      Kenny groaned. “We’re going to look like right wallies doing the decorating in dressing-up clothes!” Then her eyes lit up as she pounced on a pair of outsized bright blue dungarees that used to belong to my mum. “Cool! I’ll have these!”

      A few minutes later everyone was ready. Fliss had found a gold and black evening dress which was about ten sizes too big for her, and she was wearing the long black wig as well. Kenny had put the dungarees on, although they were miles too long for her and she kept tripping over the ends. Lyndz was wrapped in my dad’s old dressing-gown, and Frankie was wearing our Tiff’s old school blazer and the flowery hat. I was feeling a bit left out in my boring sweatshirt and leggings, so I looked in the bag, found a pink woolly hat and put that on.

      “I reckon we’re the coolest gang of decorators ever!” Kenny said, as she walked over to pick up a roll of wallpaper and tripped over her dungaree bottoms for the fourth time.

      “We’d better get started,” Lyndz said. “We’ve wasted loads of time already.”

      “D’you think we’ll finish it all tonight?” I asked doubtfully. My bedroom’s really big, and I was beginning to wonder if we’d bitten off more than we could chew.

      “Yeah, ’course!” said Kenny, at exactly the same moment as Frankie and Lyndz said, “No chance!”

      “We’ll finish it!” Kenny insisted, ripping the cellophane off the wallpaper. “Hey, look at this, guys!” She held up the wallpaper, and let it unroll down to the floor really fast. Unfortunately, Fliss’s foot was in the way.

      “Ow! Ow! My toe!” Fliss squealed, hopping round the room, doubled up in agony. “I’m going to kill you, Kenny!”

      “Well, I don’t care if we don’t finish it,” I said, glancing round at the mess. “It can’t look any worse than it does now!”

      You know what? I was dead wrong.

      

      “So what do we do first then?” I asked. No-one answered. Instead, everyone stared at Lyndz, who turned pink.

      “What are you all looking at?”

      “You! You’re the expert!” Kenny told her.

      “Oh. Well…” Lyndz frowned and looked round the room. “First we’ve got to paint the woodwork, and let that dry before we start the wallpapering.”

      Kenny pulled a face. “Oh, knickers to that! I want to wallpaper – I’m not into boring old paint!”

      “Why don’t Lyndz and Frankie paint one side of the room, and me, you and Fliss can start papering on the other?” I suggested.

      “Good one!” Kenny said immediately. “That OK with you, Flissy?”

      “What?” Fliss hadn’t heard a word because she was too busy admiring her dress and wig in my mirror.

      “I said, do you want to help me and Rosie with the wallpapering?” Kenny repeated loudly, rolling her eyes at me.

      “Yeah, OK,” Fliss nodded, parading up and down like a supermodel. “I think I look good with black hair, what do you reckon?”

      Kenny groaned, and picked up a bucket and a packet of wallpaper paste. “This isn’t a fashion show, Fliss! Come and help me mix up the paste.”

      While Kenny and Fliss went to the bathroom to get some water, Lyndz and Frankie