Annabel's Perfect Party (2 page)

Chapter Two

Infuriatingly, Annabel refused point-blank to tell anyone but her sisters about her brilliant plan. “Sorry,” she told Saima, her best friend, sounding really apologetic for once. “But this really is triplets-only. I just can't. I'll tell you tomorrow, promise. Please don't be cross?” Annabel could be very charming when she wanted, gazing soulfully at Saima and looking as though a cross word would make her burst into tears.

Saima looked miffed, but gave in. She and Megan and Fran knew by now that being friendly with the triplets was great – they were all really sweet, in different ways – but it wasn't like being friends with anybody else. There would always, always be things they didn't understand, things that were “triplets-only”. Still, it was worth putting up with, so she grimaced, and shrugged. “OK. But you'd better
tell us tomorrow, or else. . .”

“We will. And you'll love it, honestly.”

“Excuse me!” butted in Katie. “You haven't told me and Becky either, you know. When do
we
get to hear this idea, Bel?”

“When we get home,” replied Annabel firmly. “I'll tell you all about it.”

 

The rest of Monday dragged on as Mondays do. By the end of school Katie and Becky were practically putting Annabel's jacket on for her, they so wanted to get her home and talking. For once they almost wished that Fran and Saima didn't walk home with them most days (Megan lived in the other direction), and they had to try very hard not to show it. When they saw Saima into the turning for her road and they were finally alone, Katie and Becky turned on their sister with positively hungry expressions.

“OK, OK! Don't look at me like that,” squeaked Annabel, quite unnerved. They were turning into their road now, and they could see Orlando, one of their two cats, prowling round the garden. He was waiting for Becky to get home and fuss over him, though he always pretended very hard that he just happened to be there at the same time every day. Becky made a kiss-kiss noise, and he gave her a very dignified “You think I'm going to come running?” sort of look before leaping (a bit clumsily, he was rather fat) on to the fence for her to stroke his ears.

“Becky!” snapped Annabel crossly. “I am about to tell you something very
important! Why are you messing about with that ginger furball
now
!”

Becky picked Orlando up, and he arranged himself in his favourite position, one paw each side of her neck as though he was hugging her. It gave him the perfect opportunity to direct a pitying glare from his green marble eyes across her shoulder at Annabel – they didn't get on. Becky answered over the top of his head, “I'm not stopping you, Bel. Come on, I'm desperate for a drink. Got the key, Katie?”

Katie burrowed in her jacket pocket for the door key. The triplets' mum was almost always in when they got home, normally doing her translation work at the kitchen table, but they liked having a key to let themselves in – it made them feel very independent.

“Mum! We're home!” Katie yelled, as she shoved the door open with her knee. The triplets' house was quite old, and though it was in no danger of falling down, bits of it did tend to stick or refuse to shut properly. It wasn't a good house for going downstairs to get a drink in the middle of the night – what with the doors and the cats, anyone would be convinced it was haunted before they were halfway.

“Uurgh! Well, I can't tell you now – we need to talk about it before we let Mum in on it.” Annabel chucked her jacket at the banisters frustratedly, and didn't notice a conspiratorial look passing between her sisters – and the cat. Annabel should have told them what was going on that afternoon at school. Maybe they should pay her back. This could be fun. . .

“Annabel Ryan! I heard that! Get back there and hang your jacket up in the coat cupboard. What do you think that cupboard is for?”

“Roller skates!” yelled Annabel, rolling her eyes at the other two and scooping up her jacket again. She pulled the door of the understairs cupboard open, and it let out its usual eerie screech. Then she leaned riskily across three pairs of in-line skates, a large bag of woodchip for Becky's guinea pigs and a skateboard, to reach the hooks at the back of the cupboard. “You'd better pass me yours as well while I'm here,” she said in a coat-muffled voice. “Ow!”

“What?” asked Katie worriedly, poking her fleece round the door. “Are you OK, Bel?”

“Yeah, I just stabbed myself on that stupid cat-carrier again. Those spiky bits on the door are dangerous.”

“Sorry,” called Becky, attempting a complicated one-armed jacket-removing manoeuvre without putting down Orlando, who was acting superglued because he knew it would make life difficult. “I think Mum's having one of her tidiness-fits again,” she added in a lower voice. “She doesn't normally mind if we put stuff on the banisters.”

“It probably all fell on her,” came the muffled voice again, accompanied by an impatient hand. “Come
on
,
Becky – jacket!”

Katie tugged Becky out of the sleeve she was struggling with and passed the jacket over. Annabel emerged dustily from the cupboard looking like she'd been on a dangerous mission.

“Right,” she whispered. “Get juice and biscuits and then we're going to our room. I'm going to be sick if I don't tell you this idea soon.”

“Serves you right,” Katie whispered back, grinning. “You shouldn't have been so secretive at lunchtime.” Then she led the way into the kitchen where their mum was working at the big pine table. Mrs Ryan translated books from German or French to English, and the other way round. This meant she could do most of her work at home, which made being a mum easier too.

Mum smiled up at the three of them. “Hello! Did you have a good day? Sorry, I've got to finish this bit off, and then we can do tea. Grab yourselves a snack for the minute.”

The triplets looked around the kitchen. Yes, apart from the table, which had lots of books piled up on it and several abandoned cups of coffee, the kitchen was
looking unusually tidy. Positively shiny, in fact. They sighed. They wouldn't be able to find anything
while Mum had this fit on. At least it wasn't likely to last very long. Annabel looked at her mum, who'd just got up to put the kettle on, while Katie grabbed apple juice, and Becky, still one-armed due to Orlando, rootled for biscuits. Mum looked stressed, Annabel thought. Probably too much tidying – the kitchen was hardly recognizable from this morning, and now she came to think of it, the hall had been scarily neat as well.

“Let's go and get changed. OK, Mum? We'll be down in a bit, to help with tea, all right?” And she exchanged meaningful looks with Katie and Becky.

Mum obviously wanted to get back to work – Annabel could tell from the way she kept casting jittery looks at the table – and she didn't complain. “OK, you three. I should have this done in another half an hour, I think.”

Annabel shooed her sisters upstairs as fast as she could. They paused worriedly at their bedroom door – no, it was OK, Mum's tidiness mission hadn't got this far,
yet
.
Katie gave Becky another conspiratorial look behind Annabel's back, and wandered over to the chair by her bed and started burrowing through the pile of clothes on it.

“What are you doing?”
shrieked Annabel, who was jumping up and down with impatience by now.

“Finding some clothes to change into,” answered Katie, puzzled. “You said—”

“I didn't mean it! Sit down!” gibbered Annabel. “You two are doing this on purpose, aren't you?”

Becky smirked. “Might be. Might not. . . Oh, come on, Bel, you know you can't keep secrets, 'specially not from us. You shouldn't have tried to make us wait for so long. Maybe we don't
want
to know, now. . .” Then she caught the frustrated, hurt look on her sister's face and melted. “Oh Bel, I'm sorry. We do want to know, don't we, Katie? Look, I'll even put Orlando out of the room, so you can see I'm really listening.” She slipped the cat out of the door and closed it before he'd had time to work out what was going on.

Annabel smiled gratefully. “I wasn't trying to make you wait – well, only a little bit. It's a really good idea, honestly.”

Katie and Becky sat down on Katie's bed and gazed up at Annabel, the picture of attention. Annabel took a deep breath, beamed at them and started. “I suddenly thought of it at lunchtime, when those idiots were droning on about Amy's brilliant birthday party. Do you remember what Mum said in July when we were eleven?” (The triplets' birthday was July
4
th
. American Independence Day – Mrs Ryan always said it had obviously had a real effect on Katie.)

“Oohhh!” breathed Becky and Katie together, starting to realize what Annabel was getting at.

“You see? She s
aid we could have a party if we wanted but then Dad couldn't be there in the summer, except for that one week he was taking us to Wales, so she said why didn't we wait until we'd started at Manor Hill and Dad got some holiday and then we could have Dad at our party and lots of new friends and—”

Her sisters were looking at her goggle-eyed. “Bel, breathe!” snapped Katie. “Honestly, that's the longest sentence I've
ever
heard anybody say in one breath. You're crazy.”

“I can see why though,” nodded Becky. “It's a great idea, Bel. You're so clever!”

Annabel subsided on to the bed next to them, looking oxygen-starved but happy. She raised her eyebrows hopefully at Katie. Being the oldest of the triplets (by two minutes; Becky was the youngest, a full half-an-hour younger than Annabel) she tended to make most of the decisions – until the other two argued her out of them, anyway.

Katie grinned at her sisters. “It's excellent, Bel. Well done for remembering, I'd forgotten about it completely.” She carefully banished the nasty, niggling little voice that was wishing she'd thought of it first, and bounced up from the bed. “Come on! Let's go and tell Mum!”

Chapter Three

The triplets clattered down the stairs, scaring the wits out of Orlando, who was sulking furiously halfway down. He raced down the stairs merely a whisker in front of Annabel and shot into the kitchen. Then he caught sight of the Ryans' other cat, little black Pixie, and stopped dead by his food bowl, giving himself a little shake before assuming the carefree pose of a cat who just happened to be stopping by in case it was nearly tea time.

For once, even Becky wasn't paying much attention to the cats' power struggle. The triplets had far more important things on their minds. “Mum—” they gasped out.

But Mrs Ryan interrupted. “Interesting. I could have sworn that was what you went upstairs in, but obviously not. . .”

“What?” asked Annabel, completely flummoxed as her head was filled with parties, parties, parties.

“Oh!” said Katie. “Changing! We forgot. We'll do it in a minute. Listen, Mum, Bel's just had the best idea. Go on Bel, tell her!”

Mrs Ryan was all ears now. She'd finished the work she'd been trying to get done, and she liked listening to the triplets' stories about their day when they got home from school. She still found it quite hard not going to pick them up every day, as she had from their primary school, but she knew they loved walking home on their own. She sat down at the table and looked attentive, leaning her chin on her hands. Actually, she looked very like Becky and Katie had, listening to Annabel upstairs. Her blonde hair was curly, and only chin-length, instead of the triplets' long, straight manes, but her blue eyes were exactly the same.

Her daughters ranged themselves along the opposite side of the table, looking remarkably like the same girl three times over, until one spotted the subtle differences: the determined jut of Katie's chin, the mischievous quirk to Annabel's lips, and Becky's thoughtfully twisted eyebrows. They wore their school uniforms differently and tied their hair back in various ways, but their mother always knew them by the way their personalities showed in their faces. It was only difficult when all three were asleep. . .

Annabel started to explain, super-fast again. “Mum, please can we have a birthday party? In half-term when Dad comes home? You said we should wait and invite everyone from Manor Hill, and now we can, and Dad'll be there too!”

Three pairs of blue eyes gazed beseechingly into Mrs Ryan's own. She grinned, and the beseeching eyes turned hopeful. “
Now
I can see why you're all so excited. You nearly broke your necks coming down those stairs.” She sighed inwardly as she thought of arranging a party – and clearing up after it. But she
had
promised, and it would be fun, probably, when she wasn't panicking about it. “The first Saturday of half-term, then?” she asked, smiling at the eager faces.

“Yeees!” Annabel jumped up and down, then hurtled round the table to fling herself at her mother, closely followed by Becky and Katie. “Really? We can have a party? Can we invite lots of people? Can we—”

“Calm down!” laughed Mrs Ryan. “Let me have a think about it all. Why don't you go and email your dad? Tell him about it – he'll be just as excited as you, I should think.”

The triplets raced off, leaving their mother to make herself yet another strengthening cup of coffee. . .

 

Back upstairs, lightning-speed changing took place. Katie and Becky threw on jeans and
sweatshirts, and Annabel scrambled into a hooded top and her favourite denim skirt and stripy tights. All three of the triplets and their mum shared the computer that lived in the tiny study that had been converted from the loft space right at the top of the house, and the triplets headed up the spiral staircase. Most of the study was filled with Mrs Ryan's work-stuff. She had loads of files – although she wasn't a perfectly organized kind of mum, who had the dates of every school fair and parents' evening imprinted on her brain, she was
very
organized about her work, and the triplets knew not to touch the filing system on pain of death, or at least grounding. They squabbled in a friendly sort of way for the chair in front of the computer-desk, and then Becky and Katie gave it up in favour of Annabel. After all, this was all due to her. They squeezed themselves on to the window sill instead, and Annabel obligingly turned the screen a bit so they could all see.

“Let's read Dad's email again first,” suggested
Becky. “We didn't get much chance to look at it this morning. Mum only turned the computer on just before we left.”

The triplets had an email address that belonged to all of them –
[email protected]
– and one each as well. Dad had sent an email to their main address, and another one to Mum, explaining what was going on. Annabel opened up their email account, and her sisters peered over her shoulder as she checked the inbox.

“Ooh, there's a new message, look!” yelped Becky. “Is it another one from Dad? Oh, don't say he's changed his plans after all, that would be so
unfair.”

Sure enough, there was another message, and it
was
from Dad. The triplets scanned it anxiously. It was OK! Dad had sent them a picture of a calendar – he said he'd printed it out so he could cross off the days until he came home to see them. “We'll do that too,” said Annabel firmly, clicking Print. “Two
weeks
!
That's ages. Maybe we should do something more . . . I don't know, satisfying
.
Like a thing we could squash for every day gone. Don't you think?” She looked enquiringly at Katie and Becky who were exchanging “Is she anything to do with you?” sort of looks. (It was one they got a lot of practice at.) “It isn't that
stupid! Have we got any balloons? Jumping on balloons would be good.”

Becky, who wasn't brilliant with unexpected loud noises (she always wore earplugs on Bonfire Night, because she adored fireworks, but couldn't stand the bangs) shuddered. “Well, you're not keeping them in
our
room.”

“Baby,” jeered Annabel, turning back to the screen. “I can't see Mum being that keen either, though. I'll have to think of something else.”

She clicked on Dad's first mail, and her sisters shrugged – it was just Bel being random again. They concentrated on the screen.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Fantastic news!

Darling
!

Sorry this is a short email – promise I'll send all of you your own personal emails soon – got to go into a meeting any second and I need to mail your mum too. I've just found out that I've got some unexpected leave, and I'm pretty sure it coincides with your half-term. So expect to find me camping on the doorstep on Friday 16th! Loads of love – see you all soon!

Dad

“It isn't even two weeks, really, Bel,” Becky pointed out. “If you don't count today it's only ten days we have to wait.”

Annabel gave her a disbelieving look. Patience was not her strong point, and the way she saw it, “only” and “ten days” didn't fit together very well.

Becky poked her in the arm. “Come on, stop looking at me like I'm talking some foreign language, and get typing! What time will it be in Egypt? Will Dad get this before he goes to bed?”

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Yay!

Hey Dad! That's the best news ever! We thought we wouldn't see you till Christmas and now it's way before. And I've had a brilliant idea (it's me, Bel, of course!)

– here both Becky and Katie poked her, but they let her leave it in –

Do you remember we didn't have a birthday party this year? We wanted you to be there for it. Mum says we can have a party in half-term, the day after you get back! So you'd better not be jet-lagged!

Annabel turned round to the pair on the window sill. “I've just remembered something else!” she announced dramatically.

“Congratulations, Bel, it's a record. What?” sighed Katie, impatient to get the message off to Dad.

“Dad gave us spending money in July—”

“Mmm, we know, you bought that skirt with it, so?” Becky sounded puzzled.

“So he didn't send any of us a proper present! He said he'd wait till he was back and we had a party. Don't you remember? Mum said we'd end up with loads too many prezzies around Christmastime – she got quite sniffy about it.”

Katie and Becky made faces – they
did
remember. “Quite sniffy” was definitely an understatement. Mum had been worried that the triplets would get spoilt, with both parents competing to get them nice presents. It was something she very definitely wasn't going to let happen.

Katie nodded seriously. “We should definitely remind him. You know what he's, like.”

“I don't know,” Becky put in. “That might sound – well, as though it's only presents we're bothered about.”

“Don't be an idiot, Becky, he knows that's not true. We're just
helping
him. He'd be very upset if he forgot,” Bel snapped, feeling a bit guilty. Sometimes Becky was worryingly nice,
and it made her feel quite evil by comparison.

Luckily Becky was quite used to her sister's snappy comments, and mostly didn't mind. “Fine, have it your way, you two, as you always do,” she sighed, which was quite a sharp retort for her, and made Bel and Katie look at her oddly. Despite her shyness with other people, Becky was definitely sharper these days – she was still the quietest one, but perhaps things were changing.

“We'll do it tactfully, Becky, it'll be fine,” Katie assured her.

Becky eyed Bel meaningfully.

“I can be tactful! Oh, all right. You'd better tell me what to say.”

After quite a lot of bickering and deleting, they ended up with what they all agreed was a masterpiece of tactful parent-management.

 

We haven't worked out what sort of party we want to have yet. We need to think fast. Any ideas? It's so exciting – we really missed having a party in the summer, 'cause normally it means we get loads of presents!!!! Just before the holidays, which is brilliant timing. We've got to go and help Mum make tea now, she's yelling up the stairs. Write back soon! Love Bel, Katie and Becky xxxxxxxx

And as Annabel said, “If that doesn't make him think about presents, nothing will.”