Annabel's Perfect Party Page 2

  “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 4th. 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 said 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 – 3ryans@mailserve.co.uk – and one each as well. Dad had sent an email to their main address, and another one to Mu
m, 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: dryan@fostermarcus.co.uk

  To: 3ryans@mailserve.co.uk

  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: 3ryans@mailserve.co.uk

  To: dryan@fostermarcus.co.uk

  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.”

  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’r
e 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.