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      Well, come in, if you’re coming in. And sit down. This time we’re in deep trouble. This time we could be in doom for ever. And this time it was not my idea. Uh-oh! There’s the phone.

      “Frankie! It’s for you.”

      “Coming, Mum.”

      You’d better come down and listen in. I’ve got a feeling this could be bad news.

      “Hello?”

      “Frankie, is that you?”

      “No, it’s Betty Boop.”

      “Look, be serious for once. Has Brown Owl been round to your house?”

      “No! Why?”

      “She’s been here already, so you’d better look out.”

      “What happened? Go on, tell me the worst.”

      “I can’t, my mum’s coming. I’ve been grounded and that includes the phone.”

      “Oh, help, Kenny! I think she’s at the door now. What should I do?”

      “Hide. Run away. Emigrate. But disappear!”

      Come on. 5–4–3–2–1, let’s get gone! Upstairs, quick!

      Right, close that door. On second thoughts, lock it, we don’t want to be disturbed. This is seriously serious. What do you think she’ll tell them? Oh, p-lease, not everything! I mean, we haven’t done anything terrible. It’s not as if we meant to wreck the supermarket. We were just trying to be helpful, which is what she’s always telling us Brownies are supposed to be.

      I blame Rosie. None of this would have happened if we hadn’t let her join the Sleepover Club. That was the start of it all. Oh, flipping Ada, as my grandma says, pull up a pew. I suppose I’d better tell you exactly what happened.

      To begin with there were just the four of us.

      There was me, Francesca Thomas. But you can call me Frankie.

      And there was Laura McKenzie. We call her Kenny. She’s my best friend.

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