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you’re nuttier all the time these days, Cyn? I mean, you were nuts to begin with, but it’s been getting worse and worse. People don’t go aboutasking their guests what they’re wearing to a costume party!”
    “Exactly. Unless you want to have a party all on your own,” I said, trying to squeeze past Cynthia to one side. But her hand came out, quick as lightning, and grabbed my arm.
    “I think up such fascinating themes for my costume parties, but there are always spoilsports who don’t stick to the rules,” she said. “Remember the Carnivalof Animals party, and some people turned up with a feather in their hair and said they were in chicken costume? Yes, you may well look guilty, Gwenny! I know just whose idea that was.”
    “Not everyone has a mum whose hobby is making papier mâché elephant masks,” said Lesley. Feeling cross, I just muttered, “Let us by!” I didn’t bother to say how little Cynthia’s party mattered to me right now,but I expect anyone could see that from my face anyway.
    The grip on my arm only tightened. “And then there was Barbie’s Beach Party.” An obvious shudder ran down Cynthia’s spine at the thought of that one—for very good reasons, by the way. She took a deep breath. “This time I want to make sure. ‘Greensleeves Was My Delight’ is a wonderful theme, and I’m not having anyone spoil the party thistime. Just so as you know, green nail varnish or a green scarf won’t do.”
    “Would you let me pass if I gave you a black eye?” I snapped. “It’s sure to be fading to green by the time you throw your party.”
    Cynthia made out she hadn’t heard me. “I’m coming as a flower girl in a green dress with a basket full of green posies. Sarah is coming as a green pepper. She says her costume is brilliant,but I don’t know any more about it yet, because she suddenly had to go to the toilet. Gordon is coming as a field of daisies. He’ll be in artificial turf all over.”
    “Cyn…” There was just no getting past her.
    “And Charlotte is having a costume specially made by a dressmaker, but it’s still a secret. Isn’t that right, Charlotte?”
    My cousin Charlotte, jammed in between a lot of other students,tried to stop, but she had to go with the flow climbing up the stairs. “It’s not all that difficult to guess,” she told us in passing. “I’ll just say tulle in seven different shades of green. And it looks like I’ll be coming with King Oberon.” She called that last remark back over her shoulder. And she was looking at me with a funny sort of smile, the same as at breakfast, when I’d felt like throwinga tomato at her.
    “Good for Charlotte,” said Cynthia, pleased. “Coming in green and bringing a boy. That’s the kind of guest I like.”
    Surely the boy Charlotte was bringing wouldn’t be … no, impossible. Gideon would never stick on pointy ears. Or would he? I watched Charlotte moving through the crowd like a queen. She had done her glossy red hair in a kind of braided retro style, and the girlsfrom the younger classes were all looking at her with that mixture of dislike and admiration that comes only from genuine envy. There’d probably be cute braided hairstyles all over the school yard tomorrow.
    “So what are you two coming as, and who are you bringing?” asked Cynthia.
    “We’re coming as little green men from Mars, O best party hostess of all time,” said Lesley, with a sigh of resignation.“And you’ll have to wait and see who we’re bringing. It’s a surprise.”
    “Okay, then.” Cynthia let go of my arm. “Little green men from Mars. Not exactly attractive, but original. Don’t you dare change your minds.” Without saying good-bye, she homed in on her next victim. “Katie! Hi! Stop right there. About my party!”
    “Little green men from Mars?” I repeated as I looked automatically at the nichewhere James, the school ghost, usually stood. This morning it was empty.
    “We had to shake her off somehow or