Tthe Sleepover Club on the Beach by Angie Bates

free ourselves and erupted into the hayloft, shrieking with laughter. Which is when we realised that Frankie was the only person who wasn’t laughing.
    “So come on, where is it?” demanded Kenny.
    Frankie pointed silently at the chest of drawers.
    It was completely empty.
    The bottle had gone!

The Sleepover Club has its share of ups and downs as you know, but this was an all-time low.
    I don’t know about you, but bottles with mysterious messages in them don’t tend to wash up at my feet on a regular basis.
    We’d blown our golden opportunity, and we felt like total idiots.
    But there’s one great thing about my mates. They have this ability to totally bounce up again like, well, things that bounce back!
    And that’s exactly what happened.
    “OK,” said Kenny briskly. “Let’s all go on a bottle hunt.”
    We stared at her.
    “Well, we’re acting like the stoopid thing just disappeared off the face of the earth, when it’s probably just been tidied away somewhere.”
    Frankie’s face lit up. “Oh, Kenny, you star!” she breathed. “That’s it!”
    “Huh?” said everyone.
    “Look around, you guys!” she said excitedly. “When we went out this morning, our room was a tip. Now it’s all spick and span. Carrie, or whatever she’s called, obviously came in to tidy up.”
    I was shocked. “You think Carrie
stole
it?”
    “Duh,” said Frankie. “Didn’t you hear what your aunt said? ‘Carrie’s a treasure, even if she is a bit of an eco-warrior’; hint hint!”
    “Yikes!” Fliss squeaked. “Carrie’s recycled our bottle!”
    I covered my face. “Oh, this is so unfair! It’s probably all mashed up by now. It’s no use. Modern kids are just not cut out foradventures. We should stick to watching TV and shopping!”
    “Hey, I thought I was meant to be the Sleepover Club drama queen,” Frankie teased. “Isn’t it possible that Carrie simply thought it was an empty bottle, and being a good little eco-warrior, immediately put it to one side for recycling later? In a recycling bin?”
    Fliss went into peals of girly laughter. “You sound
just
like a detective!”
    I felt a spark of hope. “Recycling bin? Here, at Willow Cottage?”
    We stared at each other.
    Then we all made a mad dash to the main cottage, hurtling straight through the kitchen and out into the utility area.
    There in a row were three big plastic bins, neatly labelled in black felt pen. One for waste paper. One for veggy peelings. And one for glass…
    I clasped my hands together. “Please, please, please,” I whispered.
    Kenny lifted the lid with a flourish. And right on top was our precious bottle, winkingin the afternoon sunlight, totally unharmed.
    Everyone sagged with relief.
    “Come here you little beauty. Mwa!” I gave the bottle a smacking kiss.
    “Now nab a corkscrew, quick!” hissed Kenny.
    We hunted around the kitchen.
    “It’s hanging on the thingy,” said Rosie. “With all the kitchen doodahs, oh
you
know!”
    She meant the utensils rack, believe it or not! We all fell about laughing. But unfortunately, at that moment we heard footsteps.
    Kenny hastily spirited the corkscrew into her jeans pocket, and I hid the bottle behind my back.
    “
There
you are,” said Mum. “I’ve been looking all over.” Her eyes narrowed. “You haven’t changed your clothes. What have you girls been doing all this time?”
    “Erm,” I said desperately. “Well, actually…”
    To my amazement Frankie came to my rescue. “Oh, Mrs Collins, it was awful,” she babbled. “We thought we heard the ghost.”
    Suddenly I was inspired. “Yeah, we heardfunny snuffling noises. I heard them this morning too. It
has
to be the ghost!”
    Well it wasn’t a
total
lie!
    “It scared me to death, Mrs Collins,” said Frankie earnestly. “I just don’t feel comfortable taking my clothes off, knowing there’s a ghost, you know,
peeking.
”
    I could see Kenny biting her lip, desperately trying not to laugh.
    I have to say Mum