LITMIR.BIZ

      I think they started to get suspicious that night when we were so keen to go to bed early. Usually I have to beg and plead with them to stay up late on a Friday for Friends. It’s my best programme! Coo-el. But there we go. Sometimes there are more important things even than Friends! So by eight o’clock we were all in our jimjams in my bedroom, talking really quietly.

      Kenny and I were sharing a bed again, Lyndz and Felicity had got the bunks and Rosie was on the camp bed this time. She was looking like a wet weekend again, even though nobody had mentioned her outburst at the gate. It felt funny, because we were all thinking about it, even though we weren’t saying anything, if you see what I mean. It was as though there was an elephant standing in the corner but no one was mentioning the fact.

      “Right, let’s get started,” said old bossy-boots Fliss. “Who’s doing the typing?”

      I can tell you now what she’ll be when she grows up: a teacher! She’s always practising bossing us about.

      “I’ll do it,” I said, turning my computer on. The others all crowded round me. “Right, I’m ready,” I said.

      Then we all sat there looking at the blank screen.

      “Dear Dave…” said Felicity. Then she sat there looking very pleased with herself.

      “Oh, good start,” I said. “Well, that’s the hard bit over.”

      “‘I really fancy you,’” said Kenny. “‘How about going out with me?’”

      “That is so sad,” I said.

      Rosie shook her head. “Brown Owl definitely wouldn’t say that.”

      “So what would she say, clever clogs?” said Kenny.

      “Something like: ‘I’ve seen you around school; you look like a nice person.’”

      “You look like a nice person,” said Kenny in a whiny voice. “That’s so naff. Where’s the romance in that?”

      “There’s no lurv in that,” agreed Lyndsey, getting all giggly. I could just see them starting each other off again.

      “Listen! Listen,” I said. “Rosie’s right. It doesn’t have to be sloppy stuff. I’ll write down what she just said.”

      “Then say something about how she likes country and western music,” said Rosie.

      “Oh, yes,” said Fliss. “That’s important, Frankie. Don’t forget that bit.”

      “Yeah, yeah. I’ve put that. Then what?”

      “Put: ‘I’d like to go out with you. How about it?’” said Kenny.

      I wrote: ‘I’d like to go out with you.’ Brown Owl wouldn’t say “how about it"!

      “Anything else?”

      “That’s enough, isn’t it?” said Rosie.

      “Don’t we want to say where they could meet?”

      “The bus station.”

      “Outside the chippie.”

      “The park gates.”

      “Put: ‘I’ll be wearing a red carnation’,” said Kenny.

      It was like a story we were making up. We could have put anything. Dave might turn up, but there was one bit we still hadn’t worked out.

      “How on earth are we going to get Brown Owl there?”

      “We’ll just choose a place where we know Brown Owl’s going to be,” said Kenny, as if that was the easiest thing in the world.

      “Not at Brownies. She won’t want him turning up there,” said Fliss.

      “Or in the bank,” I said.

      “Or at her house, I guess,” said Lyndz.

      “Where else does she go?” asked Rosie.

      “She shops on a Saturday at the SavaCentre. I always see her when I go with my mum,” said Felicity.

      “Oh, how romantic!” said Kenny.

      “Meet me by the frozen peas,” said Lyndz.

      “We can cuddle by the cabbages,” said Kenny. They can be so silly.

      “D’you think she’ll be there tomorrow?” said Rosie, ignoring them.

      “Probs,” said Felicity.

      “Tomorrow’s no good, I’ve got badminton,” said Kenny.

      “Not in the afternoon, you haven’t,” I said.

      “D’you think you could get your mum and dad to take us?” said Fliss.

      “All of us?”

      “Yes. We all need to be there.”

      “Tell them it’s for a project we’re doing at school,” said Kenny.

      Well, that was almost true, wasn’t it? I just wouldn’t tell them the project was called Operation Blind Date. And it was in a good cause.

      I finished the letter off: I’ll be shopping in the SavaCentre on Saturday afternoon. I’ll see you there.

      “How shall I sign it?”

      “‘Lots of love and kisses,’” said Kenny, getting really stupid.

      “‘Yours affectionately, Madeline,’” suggested Fliss.

      But none of us could spell “affectionately” so we just put: Love from… Then I printed it off and Kenny signed it with a huge scribble.

      “What’s that supposed to say?”

      “Madeline.”

      “You can’t read it.”

      “You’re not supposed to be able to read it,” said Kenny. “That’s what signatures are like.”

      “He can read the letter, that’s the important thing,” Lyndz agreed.