Betsey’s Birthday Surprise Read online

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  The Best Guard Dog in the World!

  Betsey’s Birthday Surprise

  Betsey Moves House

  Betsey on the Telly

  About the Author

  Also by Malorie Blackman

  Copyright

  About the Book

  “Elizabeth Ruby Biggalow, I . . . I . . .” For once Gran’ma Liz was lost for words!

  It’s Betsey’s birthday! But where are all her cards and presents? And where is that cake? Botheration! Has everyone forgotten? Betsey decides to make a birthday treat for herself but she’s in for a surprise . . .

  Four sunny Caribbean tales, perfect for building reading confidence.

  Also available:

  Betsey Biggalow Is Here!

  Betsey Biggalow the Detective

  Magic Betsey

  Hurricane Betsey

  For Neil and Lizzy,

  with love as always.

  The Best Guard Dog in the World!

  “Oink! Oink! Oink! Oink!”

  Betsey snuffled into the kitchen where the whole family were sitting down to breakfast. She snuffled along the ground and oinked again!

  “Betsey child, what’re you doing?” Gran’ma Liz frowned.

  “I’m a pig!” Betsey announced.

  “Tell us something we don’t already know!” laughed Sherena, Betsey’s bigger sister. “You eat like a pig and thanks to you, our room looks like a pigsty!”

  “No, you don’t understand. I’m going to spend this weekend being all kinds of different animals,” Betsey explained.

  “Uh-oh!” said Desmond, Betsey’s bigger brother.

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” said Sherena.

  “Sounds like another of Betsey’s ideas,” Mum sighed and poured herself another cup of coffee.

  Gran’ma Liz just shook her head.

  “I know I’m going to be sorry I asked this, but why d’you want to be all kinds of different animals?” asked Sherena.

  “So I can see what it’s like, of course,” Betsey replied. “Then I can compare it to being a girl. Mrs Rhodes, my teacher, said that we have to think about which animal we’d most like to be and then say why in class. Well, I can’t decide until I’ve tried to be some of them, can I?”

  “Betsey, I’ll say one thing for you – you’re different!” said Sherena.

  “No, I’m not. I’m a pig!” said Betsey. “Oink! Oink!”

  “Betsey, you’re getting in everyone’s way. Sit down and eat your breakfast,” said Gran’ma Liz.

  “Couldn’t you put it on the floor for me?” asked Betsey. “Pigs don’t eat at a table with a knife and fork.”

  “Elizabeth Ruby Biggalow, you will sit at the table and eat with this family or go without,” said Gran’ma firmly.

  Uh-oh! There it was again. Whenever Gran’ma Liz used Betsey’s whole, full name, Betsey knew she’d better pay close attention! She stood up at once. Botheration! Being a pig didn’t last very long – and she was just getting into it as well! Betsey sat at the table and had a long, hard think.

  What animal can I be now? she wondered. Then she had a wonderful idea.

  “Sherena, can I borrow your saucer?” Betsey asked.

  Puzzled, Sherena lifted up her cup of coffee and handed over the saucer underneath it. Betsey poured some orange juice out of her glass and into the saucer.

  “Betsey, what—” But before Sherena could say another word, Betsey bent her head and started lapping at the orange juice.

  “Betsey, stop that! It’s going all over the table,” said Gran’ma Liz.

  “Miaow!” said Betsey. And she carried on lapping at her orange juice.

  “Elizabeth Ruby Biggalow . . .” said Gran’ma Liz ominously.

  Betsey stopped lapping at once. Gran’ma Liz had used her whole, full name twice in less than five minutes!

  “But Gran’ma, this is how cats drink,” Betsey protested.

  “Cats don’t drink orange juice,” Desmond pointed out. “They drink milk.”

  “Yeuk!” Betsey’s face scrunched up at the thought of it.

  “Find some other animal to be,” Gran’ma Liz ordered. “As a pig you’re in the way and as a cat you’re too messy.”

  And with that Gran’ma Liz scooped up the saucer and placed it in the sink – so that was the end of that! Betsey sighed and straightened up. It wasn’t easy being any kind of animal with Gran’ma Liz around!

  “Betsey, no more animals at the breakfast table, if you don’t mind,” said Gran’ma Liz.

  Betsey picked up her glass of orange juice and began to drink. Drinking as a cat was much more fun!

  After breakfast, when all the dishes had been washed and dried and put away, Betsey had another think about what else she could be. She had to become an animal that wasn’t in the way and wasn’t messy . . .

  “Got it!” Betsey said happily.

  She went out into the living room and lay down on the floor. She put her hands at her sides and her feet together and started slithering and wriggling.

  “Betsey, have you seen my glasses?” Gran’ma Liz walked into the living room.

  “Gran’ma Liz, don’t step on me,” Betsey said quickly.

  And only just in time too. One more step and Gran’ma Liz would’ve stepped on Betsey for sure.

  Betsey carried on slithering and wriggling.

  “What on earth are you doing, child?” Gran’ma Liz asked.

  “I’m a worm,” Betsey replied. “But I’m not making much progress. I’ve only moved a few centimetres. It must be hard work being a worm. And you almost stepped on me. So it must be quite dangerous being a worm too.”

  “It’s harder work being your grandmother,” said Gran’ma Liz. “Betsey, get up off the floor. You’ll ruin your clothes.”

  “But Gran’ma . . .”

  “But nothing. Up. NOW!”

  With a deep, deep sigh, Betsey stood up. Botheration plus one hundred!

  “You’re in the way as a pig, you’re messy as a cat and you’re underfoot as a worm!’ said Gran’ma Liz. “I think that’s enough animals for one day.”

  And that was that! Botheration plus one million!!

  All day long, Betsey racked her brains. What animal could she be that wouldn’t upset Gran’ma? Maybe she could be a chirp-chirping bird? No. Gran’ma would say she was too noisy! Maybe she could be a flying fish – splish-splashing in the bath tub. No. Gran’ma Liz would say she was too wet!

  Later that night, as Betsey put on her pyjamas to go to bed, she said to her dog, “Oh Prince! This is a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

  “Woof!” Prince agreed.

  As Betsey climbed into bed, she still hadn’t decided on which animal she could be.

  “I’ll think about it in my sleep,” Betsey yawned. “Then I’m bound to get an answer.”

  And with that Betsey pulled the bed clothes up around her neck, closed her eyes and was asleep in less than a minute.

  Betsey opened her eyes and was instantly awake. It was the middle of the night. Silvery moonlight streamed in through the window. Betsey sat up and took a look around. Something had woken her up but Betsey wasn’t sure what it was. Creak! Creeeee-eeeak! There it was again. Someone was creeping through the house . . .

  “Sherena . . . Sherena . . .” Betsey hissed at her sister.

  Creeee-eeeak! The strange noise sounded again. Betsey slipped her feet into her slippers and crept towards her sister’s bed.

  “Sherena . . .”

  But Sherena wasn’t there . . . Betsey knew what had happened at once.

 
“Prince! Prince!” Betsey whispered to the dog lying beside her bed. “Wake up! There are kidnappers in the house. And they’ve got Sherena!”

  But Prince refused to budge. He lay beside Betsey’s bed, his head on his front paws and his eyes tight shut. Betsey’s heart pounded like a sledge hammer as she tip-toed to the bedroom door. She was terrified. There were kidnappers in the house. Betsey had to get to Mum and Gran’ma Liz. But how could she do it? She looked back at Prince.

  Huh! Some guard dog you are! Betsey thought with disgust.

  Guard dog . . . That was it! Betsey thought of a way to wake up Mum and Gran’ma Liz without the kidnappers getting to her first. Betsey opened her bedroom door and got down on all fours so that the kidnappers wouldn’t spot her.

  “WOOF! WOOF!” Betsey barked at the top of her voice. “ARFF! ARFF! WOOF!”

  Then everything happened at once. There was a bang and a crash in the living room, followed by the lights being switched on in Mum’s and Gran’ma Liz’s bedrooms.

  “WOOF! ARFF!” Betsey barked even louder. Her throat was getting sore but she wasn’t going to stop now. At long last Prince joined in, but Betsey was louder.

  “What on earth is going on?” Gran’ma Liz came out into the living room and switched on the light.

  There lay Sherena, sprawled out on the floor. And next to her was a puddle of spilt orange juice, an empty plate and chocolate biscuits scattered here, there and everywhere.

  “Sherena, what d’you think you’re doing?” Mum frowned.

  “I was hungry so I decided to have a snack.” Sherena sat up. “But when Betsey started making all that noise, it startled me and I tripped over.”

  “You wanted a snack at three o’clock in the morning?” Mum said crossly. “Sherena, clean up that mess and go straight back to bed.”

  “Betsey, was it you making that racket?” asked Gran’ma Liz.

  “I thought Sherena was being kidnapped,” said Betsey. “And I wanted to wake up you and Mum without the kidnappers getting me! So I decided to be a guard dog!”

  “Well, you woke us up, all right,” said Gran’ma Liz. “I should think you’ve woken up the whole street as well!”

  “I make an excellent guard dog,” Betsey decided. “I know! That’s what I’ll be in class on Monday – the best guard dog in the world.”

  “Betsey, I prefer you as a girl,” sniffed Sherena. “Then I wouldn’t have got caught and I could’ve had my snack in peace!”

  “Betsey, you can be a guard dog any time you like.” Mum smiled. “I feel very safe knowing that you’re in the house!”

  Betsey’s Birthday Surprise

  The moment Betsey opened her eyes, she expected wonderful, sun-shiny, brilliant surprises. Well, she got a surprise all right! A nasty surprise. A horrible surprise. Everyone had forgotten her birthday!

  At first Betsey couldn’t believe it. Botheration! How could everyone have forgotten that today was her birthday?

  “Gran’ma Liz, guess what today is?” Betsey asked hopefully.

  “Saturday,” said Gran’ma Liz. “Now run along and play, Betsey. I’ve got things to do.”

  Betsey decided to give Gran’ma Liz a teeny-tiny clue.

  “Gran’ma, haven’t you forgotten something?” Betsey asked. “Something wonderful about the day and me.”

  If Gran’ma Liz didn’t get it from that then she didn’t deserve to call herself a gran’ma!

  “Betsey child, what are you talking about? It’s Saturday. That’s it! End of story! And . . .” Gran’ma Liz slapped her hand against her forehead. “I’d forget my head if it wasn’t glued to my neck! Thanks for reminding me, Betsey. I promised your mum I’d make some of her favourite biscuits for when she comes home from work. I’d better get started.”

  “But . . . but . . .” That’s not what Betsey meant at all!

  “Do you want to help me?” asked Gran’ma Liz.

  No way! Not today of all days. It looked like Gran’ma Liz really had forgotten. Betsey wandered out into the back yard. Sherena bowled a cricket ball to Desmond who hit it into the dirt.

  “Why the glum face, Betsey?” asked Sherena as she picked up the ball.

  “Because today is . . . today is . . .”

  “A kind of nothing day,” Sherena said, finishing Betsey’s sentence. “I know exactly what you mean. There’s nothing special going on. There’s nothing to see, nothing to do. And it’s the kind of day when you don’t want to do anything either.”

  Betsey really couldn’t believe it. All week she’d reminded everyone that it was her birthday on Saturday and they’d still forgotten. How could they? Even May hadn’t sent a card. Betsey felt tears prick at her eyes.

  “Sherena, I can’t practise hitting the ball if you don’t throw it to me,” Desmond called out from the other end of the back yard.

  “D’you want to stay and play cricket with us?” Sherena asked Betsey. “You can be the wicket keeper if you like.”

  “Stuff the wicket keeper!” Betsey snapped.

  “Charming!” Sherena raised her eyebrows as Betsey flounced back into the house.

  So it was true. They had all forgotten. Maybe Mum hadn’t – but she wasn’t here. But the rest had! There were no cards, no presents. As for a birthday cake? There wasn’t even a birthday sandwich! Betsey would have settled for a birthday biscuit!

  “Then I’ll just have to do something on my own!” Betsey muttered.

  Yeah! That’s what she’d do. She’d celebrate her own birthday – all by herself. She’d show them all. She needed to do something fun to cheer herself up. Something different!

  “I know!” Betsey clapped her hands.

  She marched into Mum and Dad’s bedroom. She switched on Mum’s radio to listen to some dance music. That would cheer her up for a start. Then Betsey sat at the dressing-table and picked up Mum’s most expensive bottle of perfume. Dad had bought it especially for her the last time he came home.

  “I have to smell nice on my birthday,” Betsey mumbled. She squirted some on her wrists . . . and her neck . . . and behind her ears . . . and on her feet and her legs . . . and her arms . . . and reached around to squirt some up and down her back. That was more like it! Hang on! Betsey began to cough. Mum’s perfume sure was strong! Maybe she shouldn’t have put on so much? Perhaps the smell would lessen in a minute or two.

  What now? Betsey spotted the very thing. She opened Mum’s jewellery box and put on a pair of Mum’s long dangly earrings and her matching long, dangly necklace.

  “I have to sparkle on my birthday!” Betsey smiled at herself in the dressing table mirror.

  “Clothes!” Betsey announced. “That’s what I need!”

  She definitely needed some birthday clothes. She opened Mum and Dad’s wardrobe. She saw the very thing. Mum’s favourite dress. It was midnight blue with sparkly, silvery sequins around the neck and the hem. Betsey pulled it off the hanger. She slipped off her own clothes and put on Mum’s dress. It only reached to Mum’s knees but on Betsey it trailed onto the floor. It didn’t look too bad though. Betsey reached up on tip-toes to get Mum’s hat – the one with a wide brim that she always wore to weddings. Betsey put it on and tilted it off at an angle, just the way Mum wore it.

  “Perfect! Now I really do look like a birthday girl,” Betsey said, admiring herself in the mirror. “Wait until everyone sees me. I’d better turn off the radio. I don’t want anyone to come in until I’ve finished. That would spoil the surprise. Now, what else can I do for my birthday?”

  Betsey was just looking around the room, when she heard, “Betsey, could you come here for a second?” Gran’ma Liz was calling her.

  “Coming,” Betsey replied. She tried to walk but tripped over the bottom of the dress. Betsey lifted up the hem and tried again. That was better! She opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the living room.

  “Gran’ma Liz, how do I loo . . .?” Betsey’s voice trailed off slowly.

  “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BETS—”

&n
bsp; The living room was full to overflowing with Betsey’s friends and their parents. May was there – and Josh and Celine and Martin. Everyone was there. They’d all started to wish Betsey a happy birthday, but when they saw what she was wearing, their voices trailed off.

  Betsey’s voice had trailed off too. She stared and stared, wondering where all these people had suddenly come from.

  “Elizabeth Ruby Biggalow, I . . . I . . .” For once Gran’ma Liz was lost for words!

  One or two people started to titter. And three or four people started to giggle. Then the whole room erupted with laughter.

  “Betsey, who told you to put on my best dress? And what on earth is that smell?” Mum choked. “Child, you smell like a perfume factory.” And Mum marched Betsey into the bathroom.

  “Why are all my friends here?” Betsey asked, amazed.

  “Because I arranged a surprise party for you,” said Mum.

  “A surprise party!” Betsey’s eyes gleamed. “For me?”

  “You can rejoin it when you’re wearing your own clothes and when you smell human again!” said Mum.

  Whilst the bath was running, Mum stripped Betsey out of her dress. Betsey had to wash behind her ears and scrub her body until every trace of Mum’s perfume had gone. Then when Betsey was wrapped in a warm, thick towel, Mum gave Betsey a box wrapped in glittery paper.

  “Happy birthday, Betsey!” Mum smiled. “This is from your gran’ma and your dad and me.”

  Betsey tore off the paper in about two seconds flat. It was a dress. The most beautiful dress Betsey had ever seen. It was a sky-blue silk dress, covered with tiny, delicate flowers. Betsey put it on, then hugged Mum tight.

  “Thanks, Mum,” she said happily.

  “Now isn’t that better than my old dress which doesn’t even fit you?” Mum smiled as she led the way into the living room.

  As soon as everyone saw Betsey they all started clapping. They all agreed – Betsey looked wonderful.

  “Well done, Betsey,” said Uncle George, grinning. “We thought we’d surprise you with a party, but you had a surprise of your own!”