Annabel's Perfect Party (3 page)

Chapter Four

On Tuesday morning the triplets were even madder and bouncier than usual.
Normally this would have driven Mrs Ryan demented, but she made allowances for party-madness. Actually, the triplets were so desperate to get to school and tell everyone about their party that their craziness was directed towards getting out of the house as fast as possible. The only problem was that Becky and Bel ate their breakfast so fast they had the hiccups all the way to school, and Katie couldn't stop sniggering at them. Despite their rush, super-organized Saima was there before them, staked out by the huge chestnut tree in the playground that was unofficial territory for the triplets and their mates. Annabel
positively danced up to her, still hiccupping, and trailing the other two like follow-my-leader.

“Saima, we have got the
best
news!” She managed to get this out in a rush before the next hiccup – Saima practically had to lip-read it and it was a good ten seconds before she could translate what Annabel had said.

“So? Tell me! What is it? Oh, you've got hiccups!”

Annabel gave her a Look. “Ob – hic – viously. Don't laugh. It's been – hic – ages. Becky too.”

Becky nodded at Saima, and gave a kind of full-body twitch. It was her version of hiccups – no noise, just the bounce.

Saima went into capable mode. “Honestly, you three are useless.”

“
I
haven't got hiccups!” protested Katie, indignantly.

“No, but you haven't sorted out these two, have you?”

“I did try.” Katie sniggered again. She was also feeling crazy this morning, and her normally sensible attitude had gone walkabout. Her method of stopping her sisters' hiccups had been walking fast to get round the corners ahead of them, and then popping out to do her very realistic impression of Sully from
Monsters, Inc.
Annabel and Becky were now irritable hiccupy nervous wrecks, and Katie was as close to hysterical as she ever got.

Saima fixed Annabel and Becky with a hypnotic stare, and said sternly. “Look at me, you two! Now, what's this?” she waved something
deliciously familiar under their noses.

“Mars – hic – bar!” Now they were drooling hiccupy nervous wrecks.

“Exactly,” purred Saima, “and the next one of you two to hiccup gets it.”

“Whaaat!” squeaked Katie, shocked. “You're
giving
them a Mars bar? What about me? Please, Saima, I'm starving, can I have some too?”

Becky and Annabel exchanged smug looks. Weirdly, they'd been hicing and bouncing completely in time up till now – they generally did if two of them or all three had hiccups. It was one of the triplet things that freaked people out. Dad thought it was hilarious– “Even your stomachs are identical!” They could share the Mars bar and enjoy waving choice bits at Katie after all her unsympathetic monster impressions. But for some reason they were now in a kind of suspended animation, tensely anticipating the next hiccup, which wasn't happening.

Saima watched with a funny little smile on her face, and Katie calmed down almost completely. How could they all be so wound up waiting for hiccups, for goodness' sake?

A full two minutes later, Saima very deliberately put the Mars bar away in her rucksack.

“Awww, Saima!” wailed Annabel. “That's torture!”

“You hiccup, you get it. And I can tell fake hiccups so don't try,” added Saima, noting the evil gleam in Annabel's eyes. “You're cured, both of you.”

“That's brilliant,” said Katie. “Does it always work?”

“Not so well after the first few times,” admitted Saima. “But I thought it was a pretty safe bet. Now, news please!”

At that moment, Fran and Megan dashed up. “Hello! What's going on? Can you tell us your idea yet, Bel?” asked Fran eagerly, dark-green eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“Yes, go on, what is it?” begged Megan.

Annabel drew a deep breath, loving the attention. “
We
are going to have a party,” she announced dramatically. Then the triplets gazed happily round at their best friends, who were reacting very satisfyingly, jumping about and asking excited questions.

“When?”

“Who are you going to invite?”

“What sort of party?”

“Well,” said Annabel, plumping herself down on one of the huge twisted roots that made the chestnut tree such a good place to gather, and patting the seat-like bumps next to her, “we don't really know what sort of party yet. Mum said she wanted to have a think about it, and consider her budget.” Annabel made a face. “Parties are expensive.”

Katie nodded. “Sorry, you lot, but I don't
think we'll all be going to see any fancy London musicals. Have a think, though. Suggestions welcome!”

“Oh, don't be silly,” said Megan, poking Katie (who was practically sitting on her knee) and making her squawk. “It doesn't have to be fancy. You could do loads of things. Just loads of us hanging round your living room and watching DVDs would be cool. Why don't you have a sleepover?”

“That
is
a good idea,” said Katie, thoughtfully. “What do you think?” She wriggled herself round to look at Annabel and Becky.

Becky nodded, enthusiastically, but Annabel didn't look convinced. “I do
like
the sleepover idea, I'd just like to do something more exciting – and
then
have everyone sleeping over, maybe.”

The bell rang then, and the discussion stopped until registration – where the triplets and their friends got so excited that Miss Fraser had to keep shushing them and the rest of the class were absolutely desperate to know
what was going on. By break, the whole class knew that the Ryan triplets were having a party, and they were buzzing with excitement. The big question was, who was going to be invited?

The triplets weren't sure and said so – it depended on what kind of party it was. “After all,” Annabel pointed out to her friend Matt in history, “you wouldn't want to come to a girly sleepover and do makeovers and watch DVDs, would you?”

“Depends on the DVDs,” Matt said, but he got the point.

“One thing's for definite, though,” Katie leaned over to say to Annabel. “We are
so
not inviting THEM!” Them was quite obviously Amy, Emily and Cara, who were trying very hard to look as though they couldn't care less, but were clearly listening to the party gossip. David, who sat with them in history and didn't know that many people yet, was looking gloomy. Yet again, Amy and co hadn't exchanged a word with him this morning. It seemed likely that they wouldn't talk to him all year.

Annabel grinned back. “Too right. And not him, either,” she added in a whisper, jabbing her thumb at Max, who sat close to Katie (unfortunately).

Max apparently had ears like a really ugly species of bat, because he snapped back, “I wouldn't want to come to your stupid party anyway!”

Katie looked down her nose at him, which was impressive because he was taller than her. “Were we talking to you?”

“No, but—”

“I thought not. Shut up, Toadbreath.”

“Katherine.” A pleasant, slightly Scottish voice broke into the conversation.

“Er, yes, Miss Fraser?” quavered Katie, hoping that Miss Fraser was going miraculously deaf in her not-very-old age.

“I gather that you and your sisters are having a party. I suggest that if you'd like to be out of detention in time to go to it, you attempt to behave a little more politely to the rest of your history group. Mmm?”

“Yes, Miss Fraser.” And Katie was completely silent for the rest of the lesson.

 

The rest of the day passed in a haze of more and more crazy party suggestions from practically everyone the triplets knew. Fiona, one of the triplets' friends from their old school, was trying to convince Becky that they should have a fancy-dress party where everyone came as their favourite film stars, when the bell went.

The triplets didn't go home together on Tuesdays, as Saima and Annabel went to ballet class at the leisure centre after school. The two of them wandered over to the class, still turning over party ideas.

“I suppose it's difficult being a triplet when you have to arrange this sort of thing. You can't all have exactly what you want,” Saima mused.

“Mmm,” replied Annabel vaguely, glossing over Saima's comment. She had so many fabulous plans for this party, she didn't want to think about not getting them. “I'm sure it'll be OK. I think we'd all really like a disco. I wonder how much it costs? We wouldn't need a proper DJ, I suppose, but it would be really cool to have real disco lights. Or a glitterball!”

Saima was won over immediately. “Oooh, yes. Then you could have a kind of glittery theme for the whole party!”

They were off. By the time they'd got to the leisure centre, and changed into their leotards and ballet shoes, they even had the food organized – little iced cakes, because they could put edible glitter on them and Annabel loved the idea of eating glitter. “And maybe some crisps,” she added as an afterthought.

Saima could only nod back, as the class was just starting. Their teacher, Mrs Flowers, had actually been a professional ballet dancer, but she'd explained to them that ballet was a very difficult career – you couldn't go on being a ballet dancer for all that long, it was just too demanding once you were older. So lots of dancers went into teaching instead. After the
warm-up exercises, Mrs Flowers split the class
in two so that they could practise the sequence of steps that they'd been learning for the last couple of weeks. Annabel and Saima were in different groups, so Annabel sat on the long bench at the side of the room, watching as the other half of the class went through the steps. It was very impressive: fifteen girls, dressed identically in black leotards with pink gauze wrap-around skirts, and doing exactly the same steps.
Well, almost
, Annabel thought, as she noticed Lucy in the back row forgetting what she was supposed to be doing with her arms.

Saima was in the front row. She was very good at ballet, and all sorts of dancing. She went to Indian dancing classes as well, which she said weren't at all like ballet, because she had to move in a totally different way, and do lots of complicated things with her hands. And the costumes were brilliant – she'd let Annabel try them on with her, and said that one day she'd try and teach her some steps too.
Maybe in half-term?
Annabel wondered. The group in the centre finished their dance, and Annabel and the others perked up – it was about to be their turn.

“Good. Watch those arms, please, girls. Very expressive hands, Saima dear, lovely.” “Expressive” was Mrs Flowers's favourite word, that and “again” – as in, “You can be much more expressive than that, girls, do it again.”

For once, Annabel didn't mind when ballet was over. She'd been distracted by glitter all through the class, and thinking more about her favourite music than the Chopin they were dancing to. Luckily, being in a glittery, party mood hadn't hurt her dancing at all. In fact Mrs Flowers had said that her step-sequence had a lovely carefree feeling. “Lovely” was another of her favourite words.

Annabel couldn't wait to get home; for a start Mum and Katie and Becky would probably have got tea ready, and she was starving. Ballet might look delicate and graceful, but it was
very
hard work. More importantly, though, she wanted to tell them all about her brilliant plans for the party.

 

Katie and Becky had spent the walk home in a party daze as well, although not quite as glittery a one as Annabel's. Katie was wondering how much it would cost to hire the swimming pool at the leisure centre – it had great inflatable things you could jump off, and a water-chute. Or what about going to see a football match?

“Becky!” She poked her sister in the ribs, jolting her out of a daydream. “Becky, wake up! You'd like to go to a football match, wouldn't you? I bet Dad would take us for a birthday treat.”

“Are you mad? A football match? You and Megan would love it, and I s'pose I wouldn't mind that much, but can you imagine Bel? And Saima? They'd freak.”

“No they wouldn't! It would be fun, they'd just need to make a bit of an effort and I bet they'd enjoy it.”

Becky sniggered, imagining Annabel and Saima in football scarves (bound to be the wrong team colour to go with their outfits). “Katie, the only thing Bel knows about football is that she thinks all the players have stupid hair. She – would –
hate –
it! Wouldn't she?”

Katie grumped along for a bit. She didn't want to be convinced, but Becky was right – she
couldn't
see Annabel or dainty Saima enjoying a footie match. Really she'd only been arguing back for the principle of the thing. Annabel was even going off their shambolic kickabouts in the garden these days. Katie went back to her first idea. “How about a swimming party? With the big chute and everything? Wouldn't you like that?” she coaxed.

“Mmm. . .” Becky sounded thoughtful. “Mmm, yes. That would be cool. And maybe we could have a sleepover afterwards. Mum would let us, I bet she would.”

Becky didn't want to tell anyone, even her triplet, what she'd been daydreaming about for their party. It was too silly. She'd started off vaguely wondering if they could do something that involved animals, but she just wasn't sure that Katie or Annabel would be happy with a trip to London Zoo. They'd been once before with Auntie Janet, Mum's sister who lived in London, and loved it, but that was a couple of years ago. Besides, Becky wasn't sure about keeping really big, wild kinds of animals in cages. Guinea pigs she didn't have a problem with (luckily, or else there'd be four homeless guinea pigs wandering around their garden) but lions and polar bears needed more room than a zoo. This was where she'd got really over the top. Polar bears. . . It would be the best party ever – she and Katie and Annabel and their friends, wearing big (fake) furry coats on sledges pulled by teams of gorgeous cuddly husky dogs, speeding across the Arctic snowfields to go polar-bear-watching. Mmm. . . Katie's football match idea had brought her back to earth with a bump (the huskies all ended up tail-deep in a snowdrift).