She was joking but Bella said, "Yes, please!"
Chloe's mum went to get Bella some chocolate drops – and she brought my pizza too.
"You must love anchovies even more than Bella loves chocolate, Daisy," said Chloe's mum.
I stared at her. I stared at my pizza. There was still a face with cheesy hair and olive eyes and a pepper mouth. But all the plain skin gaps in between were filled in with grey slimy anchovies. Hundreds of them!
"It looks very effective, my love, but I'm really not sure you should eat so many anchovies. You'll make yourself sick," said Chloe's mum.
"I – I don't like anchovies," I whispered.
"Then why on earth put them on your pizza?" said Chloe, snorting with laughter.
I hadn't put them on my pizza.
I knew who had.
It must have been Chloe herself. But I couldn't say anything at her own party. And Chloe's mum and dad wouldn't have believed me anyway. They thought Chloe was the best little girl in the world. I knew she was the worst.
I tried to eat the cheesy hair on my pizza but the anchovies had even got under there. It was as if they were still alive and had wriggled everywhere. I couldn't swallow a mouthful.
"That was a bit of a waste, Daisy," said Chloe's mum. "Still, never mind. I'm sure you can fill up on Chloe's birthday cake."
Chloe had the biggest cake in the whole world. It was in three tiers, just like a wedding cake. The bottom layer was fruitcake with extra cherries and bright yellow marzipan under the white icing.
The middle layer was chocolate fudge cake with lots of chocolate buttercream. The top layer was vanilla sponge with strawberry jam and fresh cream. It had HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CHLOE, SWEETHEART in silver iced writing with silver hearts studded all around the edge.
"We'll make sure your slice has a special anchovy filling, Daisy," Chloe whispered.
I think she might have been joking this time. But I couldn't take any chances. I didn't eat a bite of this most beautiful birthday cake. I sat and watched the others eating it. (Bella had a big slice from each layer.)
I felt my lips go trembly and my eyes starting pricking but I was absolutely determined not to cry in front of Chloe.
I didn't cry later on when we all went up to Chloe's bedroom and I saw I'd been put in a sleeping bag all by myself over by the door.
I didn't cry when we all watched a scary horror movie on Chloe's television about an evil child with a teddy bear possessed by the devil. He smothered all these little kids but he ended up being horribly ripped to bits. I was very glad Midnight was still zipped up in my overnight bag or he might have cried.
I didn't cry when we all got ready for bed and it was my turn in the loo and the lock didn't work properly and Chloe suddenly opened the door on me and everyone laughed.
I didn't cry when we all got into bed (I got into bag) and we watched a much, much, much scarier horror movie about a witchy white ghost who crept up on these girls in a college dormitory and murdered them one by one.
"This is too scary, Chloe," Emily said.
"It's like it's real," said Amy, sucking her thumb.
"Can't we watch some other movie?" said Bella. "I'm not going to be able to sleep for worrying about the witchy white ghost."
"It's OK," said Chloe. "If the witchy white ghost comes creeping up on us she'll get Daisy first as she's the one nearest the door! And anyway you don't sleep at a sleepover party."
I certainly didn't sleep. I stayed awake all night long, hunched into a ball in my sleeping bag, clutching Midnight tight. But then he nearly turned into Devil Bear and wanted to smother me. I had to grip him in my knees. They were right up under my chin because there might be anchovies wriggling round the bottom of the sleeping bag. And all the time the witchy white ghost wailed just outside the bedroom door, waiting to come and get me . . .
Ten
"Not long now till your birthday, Daisy," said Mum.
I didn't say anything.
Lily went, "Ur ur ur ur ur." She was lying on the rug and I was tickling her.
"I suppose you want to have a sleepover party too," said Mum.
I didn't say anything.
Lily went, "UR UR UR UR UR!"
"Daisy! I'm talking to you! And stop tickling Lily."
"She likes it. Don't you, Lily?" I said.
"URRR URRR URRR URRR URRR!"
"She'll get over-excited. Stop it, now."
"URRRRRRRRRR! URRRRRRRRRR!"
Lily got so over-excited she started wailing and wouldn't stop. She cried until she was sick. Mum had to take her upstairs to change her and calm her down.
Lily's wails were very weak and tired now. At least she always slept for ages after one of her bad crying fits. At last she went quiet.
It was very quiet in the living room too. I looked at Dad. I thought he was cross with me. He switched on the television. Then he switched it off. He patted his knee.
"Want to come and have a cuddle?" he said.
I was surprised but very pleased. I tucked in beside Dad and he put his arm round me and kissed the top of my head. Then he pretended he was a sheep and my hair was grass so he went gobble gobble munch munch.
"I love this game. We haven't played it for ages!" I said.
"I'll try to get home from work early more often," Dad said. "I don't get to see enough of you, Daisy. And poor Mum is always so busy with Lily."
"Yes," I said, sighing. "Sorry I made her get upset," I added in a tiny voice.
"That's OK, pet. You were only playing," said Dad.
"Yes, but I was playing a bit too much," I said.
"Don't let's talk about Lily. Let's talk about you – and this birthday of yours," said Dad.
I didn't say anything.
"What's up?"
"Nothing," I said.
"Nothing!" said Dad. "Maybe I'm going to start tickling you unless you tell me what's making you look so worried. Come on, my little glum chum." He tickled me under my chin and I collapsed, squeaking and spluttering.
"Don't! Please don't!"
"Well, tell me what's the matter."
"There's nothing the matter, Dad, honest. It's just . . . I don't really want a sleepover party for my birthday."
"But I thought they were all the rage. Just recently you've been to heaps."
"I know."
"So you really need to invite everyone back."
"But . . . I don't want to."
"Why?"
I fidgeted.
Dad put his head close to mine.
"Is it because of Lily?" he whispered.
"A bit," I whispered back.
"We'll explain about Lily to your friends."
"But they might still be a bit funny about it. Not Emily. She's ever so special. And Bella's lovely too. And Amy. It's just . . . Chloe. Chloe's horrible."
"The little curly-haired one?" said Dad.
"Her," I said grimly.
"Oh well, it's easy-peasy," said Dad. "Invite Emily and Bella and Amy to your sleepover birthday party and leave Chloe out."
"Really?"
"Of course. It's your birthday. You don't have to invite anyone you don't want," said Dad.
"But Emily and Amy and Bella said it wasn't fair when Chloe tried not to invite me to her sleepover."
"Do they all like Chloe?"
"Well . . . I think they're just a bit scared of her."
"Then they'll probably be glad she's not invited," said Dad.
"I'll be ever so, ever so glad!" I said, bouncing up and down on Dad's knee.
"That's it, little Smiley-Face. All settled," said Dad, beaming.
But it wasn't settled.
Mum said I had to invite Chloe too.
"It's only fair. You went to Chloe's party, Daisy, so she has to come to yours."
"But she didn't want me to come, Mum! She tried hard not to invite me. She's really mean to me, Mum. She gangs up on me at school and she was extra-awful to me at her party."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I am telling you!"
"No, at the time, silly."
"You were busy with Lily. You're always busy with Lily."
"No, I'm not. Not always. Anyway, I'm afraid I've already invited Chloe. Her mother rang up after her party because she was worried you might be sickening for something. She said you didn't eat anything, poppet."
"Ha! Chloe put anchovies all over my pizza!" I shuddered so hard I nearly fell out of Dad's armchair.
"Oh dear. Well, I told Chloe's mum you'd be having a sleepover party yourself and I automatically invited Chloe."
"Can't we un-invite this foul little girl?" said Dad, giving me a hug.
"Not really. It would look awful."
"She's awful."
"She won't be able to be awful to you at our house, not when it's your special party, Daisy."
I was sure Chloe would find a way.
I didn't say any more to Dad. I didn't say any more to Mum. But after they were asleep I crept into bed beside Lily. She'd been asleep for hours and hours but she was awake now."I hate Chloe," I said.
"Ur ur ur ur ur," said Lily, comfortingly, as if she hated her too.
"She's so mean to me," I said.
"Ur ur ur ur ur," said Lily.
I thought for a little while.
"I'm sometimes mean to you, Lily," I said. "Do you hate me sometimes?"
"Ur ur ur ur ur," said Lily. "Ur ur ur ur ur."
I hoped she was saying she didn't hate me at all, she loved me because I was her sister.
"Well, I love you because you're my sister, Lily," I said. "And if Chloe is mean to you I'll smack her hard, you just wait and see."
Eleven
Mum and Dad sang Happy Birthday to me on Saturday morning. Lily sang too, screeching louder and louder: "UR UR UR UR UR!"
"She's getting over-excited again, Mum," I said.
"Never mind," said Mum.
"We're all over-excited because it's your birthday, Daisy," said Dad.
I had a special birthday breakfast of croissants and cherry jam and hot chocolate – yummy yummy.
"Do you think we can have more hot chocolate later on for my party?" I said. "I think Bella would like it a lot."
"Yes, of course," said Mum.
"But Emily doesn't like chocolate any more," I worried.
"We'll find something else for Emily."
"Something special – because Emily's my almost best friend," I said.
"What shall we serve Chloe?" said Dad, winking. "A mug of greasy lukewarm washing-up water?"
I fell about laughing. Mum frowned, but she couldn't stop herself giggling too.
After breakfast Mum got Lily ready and then Dad took her for a long walk in her wheelchair while Mum and I cleared up and then made my birthday cake together. Mum let me stir the mixture and spoon it out into the cake tin. She let me scrape the mixing bowl with the spoon (and then my finger and then my tongue!). We made white chocolate crunch biscuits while the cake was cooling and then we did the decorating.
Mum got a very sharp knife and started cutting the cake.
"Mum! I cut the cake. It's my birthday. What are you doing? The cake isn't even finished yet."
"I know. I am finishing it. I'm turning it into a special cake," said Mum. "Watch."
I watched. Mum cut delicate little wedges out of the cake every so often. She was turning the cake into a particular shape. Then I suddenly realized.
"It's a daisy! Oh Mum, how brilliant!"
Mum defined each petal perfectly. Then we mixed up some bright white icing and carefully covered it all over.
"It looks lovely!" I said, putting a little smear of icing on one of the cut-off wedges. "Yum! It tastes lovely too."
"It's not quite finished yet," said Mum.
She coloured the left-over icing yellow and spread that in a neat circle in the middle so that the cake looked just like a real daisy. When it was all dry she iced HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAISY in pink on top. It looked so beautiful, especially when Mum slid the cake onto our best green plate. All round the edges she put little daisy hairslides. I counted. Twenty four. Enough for everyone to have four – and Emily and I could have six.
"No, no, four each," said Mum.
"Emily, me, Bella, Amy and Chloe, yuck yuck. Five times four is twenty."
"There are six of you, silly. What about Lily?" said Mum.
"But Lily isn't part of the sleepover party," I said.
"Of course she is! She's your sister."
"Lily can't do her own hair so she doesn't need hairslides."
"You could do her hair for her. And I'm sure she'll love her daisy hairslides," said Mum. "Oh, there's Lily and Dad back now. Did you have a lovely walk, Lily? What's all that silly noise for?"
"UR UR UR UR UR!" Lily wailed.
"I took her round the shopping centre. I thought she'd like those giant teddies. Big mistake," said Dad, mopping his brow.
"Oh yes, she's scared of them," said Mum, sighing.
"Well, you could have told me," said Dad.
"Lily's been scared of them for ages," I said. "Oh, Dad, you know she doesn't even like my teddy, Midnight."
"Come on, Lily, let's mop those weepy eyes and wipe that poor nose," said Mum. "And stop that noise, please!"
"Ur ur ur ur ur," Lily mumbled, sniffling.
Mum started to carry Lily upstairs.
"Oh dear, she needs changing too. Look, you two had better get started on Daisy's bedroom. Though how all four girls are going to squash in there I just don't know."
"Lots of girls use the living room for sleepovers," I suggested.
"There's even less space in our living room," said Dad, "what with Lily's special chair and her rug and all her other stuff. Then he looked at the window. He looked out of the window.
"I know!" said Dad. "Daisy, how about having your sleepover in the garden? We could get the tent out the loft."
"Oh, Dad! Magic!" I said.
We went racing up the stairs past Mum and Lily so that Dad could climb up in the loft. We bought all the camping stuff last year for our summer holiday. We can't usually stay in a hotel because it's so difficult with Lily. It was difficult camping with her too. She cried most of the night. And the next, even though I got in her sleeping bag with her. She didn't like it because it was different. The third night Lily cried and Mum cried too. Dad didn't cry but he said, "This is ridiculous," and we packed up the tent and drove home in the middle of the night.
"I knew that tent would come in useful eventually," Dad said now, and he unpacked it and took it out into the garden.
"It's going to be so cool!" I said.
"Too cool, literally,' said Mum. "It'll be freezing cold in the middle of the night."
"The girls can all wrap up really warmly. They'll have a whale of a time," said Dad.
"But Lily won't be able to join in any of the fun. You know what she's like in that tent," said Mum.
"You don't have to remind me!" said Dad.
I didn't say anything.
I couldn't help feeling very glad indeed that Lily wouldn't be able to join in.
Twelve
I wore my starry T-shirt and my new birthday-present jeans with embroidered daisies up and down the legs. I couldn't wait to have the daisy hairslides in my hair to match.
"You look lovely, Daisy," said Mum. "Our special birthday girl," said Dad.
"Ur ur ur ur ur," said Lily softly.
I wondered if she really knew it was my birthday. I wondered if she ever knew when it was her birthday. I wondered if Lily wished she could wear tiny T-shirts and embroidered jeans. Lily mostly wore big towelling tops because she dribbled and spilt so much and they stopped her getting too wet. She wore loose jogging trousers because they were easy to whip on and off when she needed changing. Lily's clothes were practical but they weren't pretty.