by Holly Webb
Becky choked with excitement and had to be thumped on the back, slightly over-enthusiastically as Katie was desperate to know what was going on.
Mum smiled. “Annabel?”
“What are you asking Bel for?” Katie sounded confused. “We all want to know.”
“I’m asking Bel because this was all her idea,” said Mum, leaving Katie opening and shutting her mouth like a very gormless goldfish. “Annabel came up with the theme for a party that all three of you would like, and she’s kept it secret from you two all this time.”
“So it’s not a surprise party for Bel at all?” asked Becky, looking from Mum to Annabel and back again. “You’ve been pretending all this time?”
“Are you cross?” asked Annabel.
“No, I’m just really, really amazed – that you managed not to say anything, all those conversations we had about what it was going to be, and you knew!” She sounded quite sorry for Annabel, as she added, “And you’re not even getting a surprise party!”
“No, but I get to see you and Katie having it – I’m terrified you won’t like it though. And I haven’t seen the decorations or the food or anything so that’s all a surprise. . .” Annabel faltered to a stop. Katie still hadn’t said anything. Was she furious? Did she think Annabel had taken over and organized everything her own way, like she had complained about before? There was no way to tell – Katie’s face wasn’t giving anything away. Annabel carried on. “Katie, do you remember that drawing I did, of the ice-skating party? The one you really liked? I was trying to think of something that I’d love to do for our birthday, but that you and Becky would like, too. And I thought, ice-skating. I mean, it’s kind of girly and fun but sporty at the same time. I know that doesn’t really have anything specially for you, Becky, but—”
“But I’d love to go ice-skating!” Becky interrupted. “That’s what we’re doing? That’s so cool! Isn’t it, Katie?” she demanded, kicking her sister under the table. Annabel looked so worried that Becky would probably have said, “Yay!” to extra French if that had been the party plan, but she really did love the idea.
Katie swallowed. She had to admit, ice-skating did sound brilliant, and Annabel had made a real effort to make them all happy – but this was Bel! Her dippy sister who spent her life thinking about make-up and clothes and boys and never organized anything, least of all herself. It was almost impossible for Katie to believe that Annabel had done all this while she and Becky had just sat around, so in the dark that they were practically asleep. But she had. “It’ll be fab, Bel,” she said, getting up and going to give her a hug. “Thanks. You’re a star.”
“Anyone want to know what’s in those parcels in the hall?” asked Dad in an offhand kind of way.
“Yees,” squeaked the triplets, the difficult moment temporarily forgotten.
“Shall I get them?” asked Katie, who was still on her feet.
“Uh-huh.” Dad was looking very smug.
“Do you know what these are, Bel?” asked Katie, as she came back with her arms full of silvery wrapping paper, a slight edge to her voice.
“Not a clue, honestly,” Annabel promised her, and Katie relaxed. She didn’t think she could stand her sister knowing everything.
The remains of the nachos were cleared away, and the fabulous parcels laid out on the table. Sparkling paper, metres and metres of fat satiny ribbon in gorgeous colours – the triplets couldn’t wait to rip them apart. . .
“Oh wow!” murmured Annabel, who’d somehow managed to untie the ribbon without tying herself in knots like the other two. “Look!” She held up a blue satin skirt, trimmed with fluffy feathers. “It’s perfect, it’s like the ones I drew – oh, Dad, you are so clever! Come on, you two, I want to see what yours are!”
By this time, Becky had got into her parcel to find a pale pink cardigan with silvery fake-fur at the collar and cuffs, and Katie was just giving up on the untying option and tearing the paper off her present – purple cord jeans, cute but still very Katie.
“OK to wear for skating?” asked Dad anxiously. “I wanted party-ish clothes that you wouldn’t freeze in, so I made a detour to Oxford Street on my way home yesterday. Your mum did the wrapping, though. Not sure why we bothered. . .” he added, smiling down at the litter of silver scraps – all that was left of the pretty parcels.
“You’d better go and change,” said Mum, checking her watch. “It’s only an hour before you need to leave.”
“No!” gasped Annabel in horror. “Get upstairs now, we have to do make-up and don’t you dare try and get out of it, Katie.”
An hour and a half later the triplets were meeting the rest of the party at the ice rink and heading off to get their skates. They looked amazing. Mum didn’t really like them wearing make-up to school (the school didn’t either) and Katie and Becky could never be bothered anyway. Annabel normally just made do with clear tinted nail polish and lipgloss which she knew she could get away with. Dad had been speechless when they came back downstairs – and that was after Mum had warned him not to throw a fit. He wasn’t sure he liked his little girls looking so grown-up.
Annabel thought she’d been quite restrained – this was only daytime make-up, they’d get the glitter out later on. . .
The triplets’ friends were a bit gobsmacked, too. They were used to telling the three of them apart by a relatively simple method – the one with the nail polish and hair full of clips and braids and whatever was Annabel, the sporty-looking one with no-nonsense hair was Katie, and Becky was the one somewhere in between. Now, though, at first glance you had three Annabels with the most amazing blonde curls. Once they thought about it, it was fairly obvious that Katie was the one in trousers, and Annabel was definitely feathery-skirt-girl. David edged up to the triplet struggling with her laces whom he reckoned was Becky. “Um, hello. You look, um, nice. Different. But nice.” Then he decided it would be a good idea to shut up.
Becky blushed. She wasn’t used to compliments. “Thanks. It’s nice that you could come.”
“Mmm, I really like ice-skating. There was a rink close to where I lived before.”
“I’ve never done it. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to stand up!”
“I could help you, um, if you like?”
The huge expanse of shiny white ice that they’d seen on the way in had looked so scary and slippery that Becky said yes without even thinking about it. When they got on the ice David turned out to be good enough to skate backwards, so he held her hands and towed her round the ring. It was brilliant. Becky thought back to her fantasy birthday party, polar-bear-watching in the arctic. If she half closed her eyes, that could be a polar bear on that patch of ice. . . By the time they’d got right the way round everybody else had fallen over at least three times and the triplets’ dad was choking with laughter. He’d flatly refused to come on the ice with them – he said he needed to take photos, and anyway he liked being in one piece, thank you very much. As Becky arrived back, not a hair out of place, the rest of the girls looked hopefully at David, who went deeply red – they were staring at him!
“That was so cool, you’re really good at this,” whispered Becky. “Would you take all the others, too? I think they could do with some help!”
David gulped and nodded, and Becky let go of him very carefully. “Bel, do you want David to show you what to do? It really helps you get your balance – ooh!” She wobbled massively and grabbed the safety rail. “Well, OK, I was balancing.”
David skated over to Katie, who was clinging on to Fran and Megan for dear life. She grinned at him. “Actually, that’s Annabel over there, but show me first!”
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 j
ust 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?
The 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.