Free Annabel's Perfect Party by Holly Webb

exchanged glances, and decided that Becky was being soft-hearted and Becky-ish, and thinking of David as a kind of cross between a boy and a stray dog. It was probably best to humour her.
    â€œAnd besides,” Becky added unexpectedly. “You should look at him, Bel. He’s cute, under all that hair. Honestly. A bit like an Old English Sheepdog.”
    Annabel sighed. Great – now a boy/Old English Sheepdog cross was coming to her perfect party. . .

Chapter Nine
    The triplets delivered all the gorgeous invitations that morning, feeling remarkably smug, and making sure that everyone saw that their party was very much on again. Saima, Megan and Fran were suitably excited, and desperate to know what kind of party it was going to be.
    â€œWe can’t tell you!” Katie laughed. “We honestly don’t know! But Mum is really good at parties,” she assured them. “I mean, just look at the invitations. She’s excellent at that kind of stuff. I’m so excited, and it’s only nine days away!”
    â€œYou can all come, can’t you?” asked Annabel anxiously.
    â€œDefinitely,” said Saima, and Fran and Megan seemed pretty certain too. Fiona, Moira, Matthew, Jordan, Jack and Robin got their invites at registration, under the disgusted eyes of Amy and co. Max made some nasty comments about the boys going to a “ girls ’ party” (said in an incredibly disdainful voice). But Matthew and Jordan, who sat quite close to him and his mate Ben, just gave them the kind of look one gives a two-year-old sister who’s just been sick over one’s DS 3 (Matthew’s sister had done this twice, so he had it down to a fine art) and Max shut up.
    The class was still waiting for Miss Fraser to arrive to take the register, so Becky nipped up to the front table where David Morley was sitting with a couple of other boys, vaguely looking at his science practical write-up, as though he thought he might have remembered it all wrong. Becky was within half a metre of him when she realized that Katie and Annabel weren’t following her as she’d thought. She cast an outraged, panicky look over her shoulder – they were still chatting to Matthew and Jordan and enjoying ignoring Max. Well, she couldn’t just turn round and go back, that would look really silly. She took a deep breath and faltered, “David?”
    David looked up – one of the pretty, popular Ryan triplets was standing next to him looking distinctly nervous.
    â€œHello,” said the nervous triplet – he hadn’t a clue which one it was, but he muttered, “Hello, er. . .” which seemed to do.
    â€œUm, hello,” said Becky again, and then pulled herself together. “We wondered – me and my sisters, that is – if you’d like to come to our birthday party. It’s in half-term. Our phone number’s on the invitation – can you get your mum or dad to phone my mum about the details? Thanks!” And then she bolted back to her seat, leaving David looking like a cross between a boy and an Old English Sheepdog and a tomato, and feeling just as mixed-up.
    Â 
    The triplets had never been more desperate for a school holiday to arrive. Their dad would be staying in the tiny flat he had not far from their house, which he used when he was back in England. Annabel had had a very good go at getting Mrs Ryan to let them take the last Friday off school so they could all go and meet him at the airport, but her mother wasn’t having it. By the day, though, they were all in such a state of jittery anticipation that it probably wouldn’t have made much difference if they had taken the day off. Interesting-looking things kept appearing in the kitchen cupboards, and their mother was wandering around the house looking busy and panicky – and then decidedly furtive as soon as she caught sight of Katie or Becky. Her bedroom had become a Forbidden