Annabel's Perfect Party (8 page)

They set off slowly round the rink, David encouraging her to lean forward. He had a very scientific explanation about centres of gravity, but Katie was concentrating too hard on her toes to really get it.

By the end of the two-hour session, most of the party could just about skate on their own – with the exception of Robin, whose nose seemed to have a fatal attraction to the ice. Katie, of course, had got really good at it after a bit of practice, as she seemed to have natural balance. The boys had been a bit dismissive when they first realized what they were going to do. (“Ice-skating's
girly
,”
Matthew had said to Jordan in disgust.) But after the first few falls they just got more and more determined to be as good as that David Morley. David was having a much better time than he'd expected. Half the prettiest girls in his class were begging him for help, and it was hard to be shy with someone when they'd nearly fallen on top of him a few times.

Annabel couldn't believe it when she spotted Dad waving and pointing at his watch. “Look!” she said indignantly to Saima. “It's not been two hours, has it?” But it had, and there were Saima's dad and Megan's dad, who'd been roped in to help ferry everybody back to the triplets' house.

 

Luckily, the car Annabel was in arrived back first, so she just had time to rush upstairs and change into her party outfit. She pulled on her favourite pair of white trousers with a pink belt and her glittery silver top. She dabbed on some extra glitter and hurried downstairs. Annabel had been looking forward to this bit of the party almost more than the skating. She and Mum had worked together on the decorations and a few times she'd been able to get away from Katie and Becky and sneak into Mum's room to see how her bits were going – but she hadn't been able to help put everything up, and she was desperate to see the final effect.

It was worth the wait. The general reaction was “Wow!” as everyone crowded in through the door. The ceiling was entirely covered in swags of silvery net, with sparkling snowflakes hanging from it. The living room was painted blue, so it went together pretty well.

On the table in front of the window was another big, silvery parcel, and the party guests added their own presents – it was a massive pile! “
Another
present from you, Dad?” asked Annabel, confused.

“Nope, this one's from your mum as well. It's for all of you – go on, open it, it should fit into the party nicely, we thought.” He grinned at them.

Everyone watched with interest as the triplets attacked the parcel. Was it some kind of party game?

“Excellent! A PlayStation
4
!” yelped Jordan, seeing the familiar logo as the triplets ripped off the paper. “What games have you got?” He leant over Saima to peer at the three games on top of the box. “That football one's brilliant! And what's that – a
dance
game?” He couldn't have sounded more horrified.

“Oh no, I think you need a special mat-thingy for that,” Saima put in worriedly, but the triplets' dad was waving another box.

“Special added extra for Annabel, for thinking up the whole party idea. And this one here's for you, Becky. Lots of cute furry animals in it, apparently.”

Jack exchanged glances with the other boys, and “coughed”. “Uh –
babyish
!”

Annabel poked him in the side. “Yeah?” she whispered. “Just because you don't know how to play it.” Then she said loudly, “Bet Becky could beat you at it any day!”

Becky gave her a slightly dismayed look.

“OK,” suggested Robin. “Tournament. Boys v Girls. You up for it?” He looked round at everyone else – definitely yes.

“There's more girls, though,” said David.

“Yeah, but they're
girls
.
C'mon, no problem. And Mr Ryan'll play for us. Won't you?” he asked the triplets' dad, who was halfway behind the television trying to connect up all the leads for the PlayStation. “You need this one, in there,” said Robin, dangling it in front of him.

“Oh, right. There, is it working?”

“Yes,” called Annabel, grabbing one of the controllers. “Right. You're going to be so sorry, Robin.”

An hour later the sofa and armchairs were two deep in people screaming encouragement as Annabel and her dad battled it out.

“Yes!” Annabel cheered as her character did a little victory dance on the screen. “How many games ahead are we, Robin?” she asked sweetly.

He muttered something.

“Sorry, didn't hear you. Three, was that? Would you like to give up now, or shall we come back and beat you up some more after tea?”

“We're only letting them win 'cause it's their birthday,” Jack growled to the other boys as they headed for the kitchen, and Annabel rolled her eyes at Becky and Katie.
So
not true. She looked round the kitchen – more snowflakes on the walls, the table loaded with food. Things were definitely good. Dad was home – if only for a week. Katie and Becky were ooohing at the gorgeous white chocolate birthday cake that Mum had made following Bel's design – in fact, everyone seemed to be having the best time, even if the boys were now making frantic plans to destroy the girls at Katie's football game.

“Come on, Bel!” Katie called. “We need you to blow the candles out!”

“Thought about your wish, Bel?” Dad asked her, smiling.

Annabel stood between Becky and Katie, getting ready to blow out the thirty-three candles, and thought that maybe her birthday wish had already come true. . .

Chapter One

“Come on, come on, come on – yeeeeeesssss!” Becky and Mum leaped up and down and cheered as Manor Hill scored another goal. Or to be precise,
Katie
scored another goal. It was Katie's first game for the team, and Mrs Ross, the junior team coach, was looking extremely smug. Putting Katie Ryan up front had definitely been a good idea.

Annabel was decidedly less enthusiastic about the whole thing. “So that was good then, was it?” she muttered gloomily.

Becky and Mum glared at her.

“Annabel!” said Becky disgustedly. “You know perfectly well that was a goal – Katie's
second
goal. You're just being stupid. I mean, I'm not that into football either, but it's so exciting! Katie's brilliant at this! Look, the other team's coach looks as though she could quite happily tear Katie into little bits and jump on them,” she concluded bloodthirstily, beaming happily at the seething coach, who actually looked as though Katie's identical triplets were on her tearing and stomping list as well.

“But it's so co-old. . .” moaned Annabel. “And I'm hungry, and my feet hurt. Couldn't we have brought chairs?” she suddenly appealed to Mum.

“Annabel, the sun is shining, it's only October, and you are wearing a jacket, a scarf, a hat and
mittens
,
for heaven's sake! And you've only been standing for half an hour,” said Mrs Ryan in response.

Annabel surveyed her outfit happily – it was the only thing bearable about this boring afternoon. A mind-numbingly tedious Geography lesson (somehow always worse on a Friday, impossible though that might seem) and now being forced to watch
football
.
She stroked the tassels of her cream-and-pink-striped scarf against her cheek, then tugged the matching hat closer round her ears and shivered dramatically for Mum's benefit. Of course, there was no way she'd have missed Katie's first football match, but she was going to make sure that everybody appreciated her being there as much as possible. Especially as she had some serious beginning-of-the-weekend lounging around the house and blatantly not doing her homework to get on with.

Annabel turned her attention back to the muddy pitch, where Katie's best friend Megan was about to face her first real challenge. It was Megan's first game for the Manor Hill team as well, and she'd been a bit nervous. Katie and Megan were in Year Seven, but most of the team was made up of Year Eights – a couple of whom had been lazy about turning up to practice recently, and Mrs Ross had
very
definite feelings about that. If you missed practices for no good reason, you didn't get to play, even if it was the league quarter-final. But there had been some sulky muttering among the Year Eights: how come these three Year Seven players had managed to get on to the team in their first year at Manor Hill?

T
he third new Year Seven player was Cara Peters, which was the only thing taking the shine off it all for Katie. Cara was one of her least favourite people at school – she was one
of Amy Mannering's two best friends, and Amy
Mannering was the triplets' arch-enemy. Katie couldn't deny that Cara was good, though. In fact, Cara was nearly as good as she was, even though it was torture to admit it. Cara and Katie were both natural strikers, and serious competition for each other. It was just a pity that Cara was a natural pain as well.

Megan was facing her first major challenge of the game. She was goalie, and up till now most of the action had been up the other end of the pitch as Katie and Cara put on a brilliant display and pretty much dazzled the Hillcrest defence. But now the fierce-looking Hillcrest captain with short, spikey black hair was racing down the field towards Megan with a very grim look on her face. She was seriously fast, and the Manor Hill defence had been resting on its laurels a bit, and been taken by surprise. Now it was the Hillcrest supporters who were holding their breath, and their cross-looking coach had both fists tightly clenched as she watched the black-haired girl getting closer and closer to what would hopefully be their first goal of the match.

Becky, Mum and even Annabel watched anxiously. They liked Megan a lot, and Katie had told them how nervous she was about her first game. It was such a responsibility playing in goal – especially with eight rather hostile twelve year olds just waiting for you to slip up. Megan didn't
look
worried, though. In fact, now that she had something to do she looked eager, and determined – just as determined as the Hillcrest girl, who was about to take her shot.

Katie reckoned that Megan could actually read minds. How else was it that eight times out of ten she knew which way you were going, and had her gloves in just the right place? When they were practising in the park Megan seemed to know where Katie was putting the ball before Katie did. Certainly she looked pretty confident now. The Hillcrest striker took her shot. The ball sailed towards Megan and she dived expertly to the right. A save! Megan hugged the ball as though she never meant to let it go.

“Yaaaay! Go, Megan!” came a particularly loud cheer – it was all three triplets, yelling completely as one. Several of the other supporters looked quite disconcerted. Megan was grinning hugely as she booted the ball back up the field. It hadn't been a very difficult save, but it had looked great! Her dad was beside himself, bouncing around all over the place and chortling, nudging her mum and pointing out how well Megan had done, while Megan's mum patiently agreed with him.

Becky suddenly felt really sorry for Katie. Their dad should be here, too! Two goals in her first game was absolutely fantastic, and there was no way he'd ever really be able to know what it was like, even though Mum had taken loads of photos. She felt quite cross with Dad all of a sudden – why did he have to work so far away? Megan's dad had obviously taken time off work, but their dad wasn't going to be popping back from Egypt to watch Katie, even if Manor Hill went all the way to the final. She wondered if Katie felt the same way.

 

Neither team scored in the second half, so it was a jubilant Manor Hill side who romped off the field at fulltime. Three-nil! And Hillcrest were a good team. Katie and Megan came over to the sidelines to be congratulated, looking very pleased with themselves. Katie was looking hopeful, too. “Mum, I don't suppose Megan could come back for tea? If that's all right with you too, Mrs Jones?” she added politely.

Mrs Ryan looked distant for a moment, and the triplets waited patiently. It wasn't that Mum was annoyed, she was just trying to remember what they were having for tea and whether there was enough of it. Finally, she smiled. “That would be fine” – she turned to Megan's parents – “if it fits in with your plans? In fact, if you wanted, Megan could stay the night. The girls are all going into town shopping tomorrow, aren't they?”

“Ooooh, yes! Please, Mum, that would be fab!” Megan pleaded.

“Well, if you're sure it's no trouble. What clothes do you want for tomorrow, Meg?” asked Mrs Jones. “We'll nip home and then your dad'll run them across for you.” Then she looked Megan and Katie up and down and grinned. “You sure you've got enough hot water, Sue? These two look like they've been playing in a swamp, not a field.”

“Might as well be,” said Katie disgustedly. “The goals are like soup.”

So it was settled – Megan was sleeping over. She and the triplets raced for the car. There was a brief delay while Mrs Ryan covered every centimetre of upholstery that might possibly come into contact with Katie or Megan in newspaper, and then they headed home.

 

The tea that Mrs Ryan had been trying to remember was pasta with tomato sauce, and there was plenty to go round, including loads of delicious cheese to melt on top. Katie and Megan were too excited to concentrate much on what they were eating, though. They couldn't believe that they'd won their first match! And not only that, it had been the quarter-final.

“This is only Manor Hill's second year in the schools league,” Katie explained to the others, stabbing her fork at Mum for emphasis. “Last year we came absolutely
nowhere
,
'cause Mrs Ross had only just started up the team and they were useless, everyone says so. But if we win the next match, we'll be in the
final
!”

“Oh no!” exclaimed Annabel dramatically. “Does that mean I have to go to
another
football match?”

“Will you definitely get to play?” asked Becky anxiously. It would be awful if Katie and Megan got demoted back to subs again.

Katie looked thoughtful. “What do you reckon, Megan?” she asked her friend, who now had a tomatoey ring round her mouth to match her red hair.

“I'm just not sure.” Megan sounded frustrated. “Mrs Ross told Caroline and Michelle and Lizzie that they'd be back on the team if they put the effort in, but from what the others were saying, I don't think they're that bothered. Got better things to do, I suppose.” Megan shrugged, as though she really couldn't imagine what.

“I don't see how Mrs Ross could stop you playing after today,” said Becky stubbornly, sticking up for her triplet. “I mean, two goals! And you pulled off some brilliant saves, Megan,” she added, smiling.

“Yeah, they were fab, especially that one that you dived for. And Cara scored as well,” Katie pointed out gloomily, “so we're not getting rid of her either. We'll just have to hope that Mrs Ross thinks we're the best thing for the team. And that Cara breaks her leg,” she added with a grin. Then she had a sudden thought. “Mum, can I ring Dad's mobile? To tell him about the match? I know it costs loads, but I'll pay for it out of my pocket money. I know we could wait til later and Skype him when he's home but I just want to talk to him now! Please?”

Mum smiled at her. “Dad's waiting for you to call. He emailed this morning to check he had the right day. Don't forget to give the others a chance to talk too, though.”

Katie danced over to the counter to get the phone. “You don't mind, do you, Megan?”

Megan shook her head. “Course not.”

Katie dialled, and Dad must have had the phone in his hand, because he picked up immediately, and Katie burst into excited chatter. “We won, Dad! I scored two goals, and now we're in the semi-final!” She'd pressed the speakerphone button, so they all heard his reply.

“Fantastic! Well done, sweetheart! I knew you could do it.”

Then they went all technical, so the others decided to have second helpings until Katie and her dad had stopped discussing footwork, and they could talk about “normal stuff”. It took quite a long time, but at last Katie passed the phone over to Becky and Annabel, who both huddled over it at the same time, and sat back down at the kitchen table.

“More pasta, Katie?”

“Mmmm.” Katie took seconds, and proceeded to push the pasta round her plate. Somehow, telling Dad about her triumphant game, and hearing how excited he was, had made her miss him loads – telling him all about it had been brilliant, but she really wished she hadn't needed to. . .

 

That night, Megan slept on an inflatable mattress in between the triplets' beds. She and Katie were exhausted after the match (and the twenty minutes of mad puffing it had taken to blow up the mattress) but they were pretty hyper as well, so there was quite a bit of hysterical giggling at things that really weren't all that funny, before Megan suddenly shut up mid-sentence, and had obviously fallen asleep. Becky and Annabel were half-snoozing already (there was only so much fantasy football team-picking they could take) so only Katie was left awake.

She was feeling odd. It had been a brilliant day (two goals! She still couldn't believe it!) but something was not right, and she was pretty sure she knew what it was. She loved Megan loads – she was the first really close friend Katie'd had apart from her sisters, but at 4.42 that afternoon she hadn't liked her much. And that was making her feel really really mean. Katie hadn't been able to help it, though. She'd been cheering Megan's fab save and heard Becky and Annabel yelling too. She'd turned to wave at them and there he was – dancing around like he'd won the lottery – Megan's dad. It was so unfair. No, it was worse than unfair, it was wrong. Why was Megan's dad there to go crazy about a stupid save when
her
dad was in
Egypt
?
Katie wasn't really a crying person – she reckoned that Becky had got her share of crybabyness as well as her own – but now she could feel a choking lump in her throat that meant she really wanted to cry. Or, preferably, scream. And shout. Lots. And she wouldn't mind kicking something either – Dad maybe.

Katie sniffed, and sighed, and turned over with a huffy thump, snuggling the duvet around her shoulders. She didn't need Dad there for everything. That was stupid. She had Mum, and she had Becky and Annabel, and they were like having something infinitely better than sisters (and worse, sometimes). This afternoon Annabel had watched an entire football match, and she'd only moaned about it every other sentence for the rest of the evening – for Annabel that was serious sisterly devotion. No, Katie would be fine without Dad. She was making a big fuss about nothing. But as she finally drifted off to sleep, all she could see was one amazingly perfect afternoon in the garden, just before her parents split up. She and Dad playing football, very carefully avoiding the rug where Becky and Annabel were sitting playing with the guinea pigs. Or rather, arguing about whether Annabel could give Maisy a furcut so she could actually see. Dad was cheering – the ball had definitely gone between the two rose bushes – Katie had scored a goal. . .