Betsey Biggalow Is Here! Read Free Page B

her slippers and went to have her shower. When she’d finished, she went for her breakfast. Sherena and Desmond were already at the table. So was Gran’ma Liz.
    “Sit down, Betsey,” said Mum. “I’ll get your breakfast.” Betsey turned in her chair to look at Mum.
    “What’s for breakfast, Mum?” Betsey sniffed the air. “Ham?”
    “And scrambled eggs,” said Mum.
    “Scrumptious.” Betsey grinned. She turned around. There before her was a long, cool glass of orange juice.
    “Yumptious-scrumptious!” said Betsey. And she picked up the glass and started to drink. Ooh, it was cold! Ooh, it was refreshing! Ooh, it was delicious!
    “Betsey, you toad! That’s
my
orange juice,” said Desmond.
    “Then what’s it doing in front of my plate?” Betsey replied.
    “I don’t know and I don’t care,” said Desmond. “It’s still my orange juice.”
    “Desmond boy, don’t call your sister a toad,” said Gran’ma Liz. “If she’s a toad, then you must be one too because you’re her brother.” Desmond started to sulk.

    “Desmond, there’s plenty of orange juice for everyone, so behave,” said Mum. “And Betsey, if you want some orange juice, pour some for yourself. Don’t just help yourself to your brother’s.”
    “But . . . but . . .” Betsey protested. Botheration! The glass
had
been in front of her plate. Never mind, today was
Saturday
! Betsey handed over the now half empty glass to Desmond.
    “Huh!” said Desmond, still sulking. He put the glass to his lips and finished his orange juice with one gulp. Then he poured himself another one.
    “Pass the sugar, Betsey,” said Sherena, stirring her coffee.
    “Manners!” said Gran’ma Liz. “What do you say?”
    “Please,” said Sherena. “Please, please, please!”
    With a grin, Betsey handed over the sugar bowl. Sherena added a spoonful of sugar to her coffee, then another spoonful, then another, and another.
    “Sherena girl, by the time you’re sixteen, you’ll not have one tooth left in your head if you carry on like that,” said Gran’ma Liz.
    “I like it sweet, Gran’ma Liz.” Sherena smiled. “Besides, I want to put on weight. I’m as skinny as a needle – worse luck. Everyone says so.” Sherena lifted her coffee cup to her lips. She’d barely taken one sip when immediately she started to gag and cough. The cup fell from her hand. Both hands flew to her throat, as she coughed and spluttered and coughed some more, her eyes watering.
    “Sherena? Sherena, what’s the matter?” Mum ran over to her and so did Gran’ma Liz. Betsey sprang out of her chair. “Sherena, are you all right?”
    “Salt!” Sherena coughed. “There’s s-salt in that bowl, not s-sugar.”

    “Whose turn was it to fill the sugar bowl last night?” Mum frowned. All eyes turned slowly to Betsey. Betsey’s mouth dropped open.

    “I thought I put sugar in it – honest!” she said quickly. Mum took the sugar bag and the salt bag out of the cupboard.
    “Which bag did you use?” she asked.
    Betsey stared at the bags. One was white and red, the other was red all over. The first bag said SALT on it and the second bag said FINEST SUGAR.
    “Er . . . I . . . er . . .” began Betsey.
    “I’m waiting, Betsey.” Mum pursed her lips.
    “I used the white and red bag to fill the sugar bowl,” Betsey admitted, adding quickly, “But it wasn’t my fault. The salt bag was on the kitchen table and I thought it was the sugar bag and I was in a hurry because I was missing a film on the T.V. . . .”
    “More haste, less speed.” Gran’ma Liz wagged her finger.
    Mum frowned. “Betsey! What is the matter with you today? First you drink you brother’s orange juice, then you try to poison your sister.”
    “But it wasn’t purpose work,” said Betsey. “I didn’t do it deliberately. I only . . .”

    “Betsey, if you carry on like this, we’ll leave you with May’s parents and go to town without you,” said Mum. “If I take you