Betsey's Birthday Surprise (3 page)

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!”

“It was my birthday surprise for all of you!” Betsey grinned.

“I’m only sorry I forgot my camera at home!” laughed May’s mum.

“Thank goodness you did forget it,” sniffed Gran’ma Liz. “Otherwise we’d never have lived it down!”

But only Betsey heard that bit!

“Betsey, go and tidy your bedroom,” Gran’ma Liz commanded.

“It’s Sherena’s turn,” said Betsey.

“No, it isn’t. I did it yesterday. It’s your turn today,” Sherena argued.

“But I wanted to play with May. We were going to play Robin Hood with my new bow and arrows,” Betsey said. “Sherena, couldn’t you do it for me . . .?”

“Betsey . . .” Gran’ma Liz’s voice held a warning.

“Oh, all right,” said Betsey reluctantly. And off she went to tidy her room.

Ages later, when Betsey had finished, Gran’ma Liz said, “Betsey, it’s your turn to help me tidy up the kitchen.”

“It’s Desmond’s turn,” Betsey protested.

“Oh no, it isn’t. It’s my turn tomorrow. It’s your turn today,” Desmond said.

“Oh, but . . .” Betsey began.

“Betsey!” There it was again – that warning note in Gran’ma’s voice.

“It’s not fair. It’s just not fair,” Betsey muttered under her breath. “If I had my own house, I could do what I liked when I liked and no one could boss my head.”

“Did you say something, child?” asked Gran’ma Liz.

“No, Gran’ma,” Betsey answered at once. And she followed Gran’ma into the kitchen to help with the tidying up.

When Betsey had finished, May came round. But by then Betsey was in a bad, bad mood.

“What’s the matter with you?” May asked.

“I’m fed up! That’s what’s the matter,” Betsey said. “I wish I had my own house and no one to tell me what to do!”

And that’s when Betsey had her extra brilliant idea. It was such an exciting idea that Betsey couldn’t help hopping up and down. Betsey took May by the hand and pulled her into the kitchen where Gran’ma Liz was reading her newspaper.

“Gran’ma Liz,” Betsey began, “can I make a house in the back yard?”

“Pardon?!” Gran’ma Liz stared at Betsey.

“Can I make myself a house – a very small house – in the back yard?” Betsey repeated. “May will help me, won’t you?”

“Sure! But how do we do it?” May asked.

Gran’ma Liz sat back in her chair. “I’d like to hear that too,” she said.

“I’ll make it with branches and leaves,” Betsey announced. “I saw how it was done on the telly last week. I’ll make myself a hut and then I can live there and have my own room and Sherena will have to tidy up our bedroom all by herself. Can I, Gran’ma? Please!
Please
!’

“Go on then.” Gran’ma Liz smiled. “Just don’t make a mess in
this
house.”

Betsey skipped out to the back yard, followed by May. She was going to do it. She was going to make her very own house!

“Betsey, we can’t make a hut. It’ll be too difficult,” said May.

“Not if we get some help!” Betsey smiled, and she pointed to her brother who was at the far end of the back yard with a drawing pad and a pencil in his hands. Betsey and May ran over to him.

“What’re you doing?” asked Betsey.

“Drawing some chickens for a school project!” said Desmond. “I just wish they’d keep still.”

“Desmond, I want to make a hut – right here in the middle of the back yard!” Betsey beamed. “Will you help me?”

“Why d’you want to do that?” Desmond asked. “And why should I help you?”

“Because I’ll live in the hut instead of the house and then none of you can tell me what to do,” said Betsey.

“Well, if it’ll get you out of the house, then I’ll definitely help you,” Desmond said at once. “We’ll need long branches and banana leaves and palm fronds and loads of string.”

“I’ll get the leaves,” said May.

“I’ll get the string,” said Betsey and she dashed into the house.

Ten minutes later, they all gathered in the back yard again. Desmond showed them how to set up the branches to make the frame of the hut and how to cover the branches with the leaves and fronds to make the walls. Then they each took long lengths of string and tied the leaves and fronds on to the branches.

It was very hard, hot work but at last it was all finished. They all stepped back to admire the hut.

“It looks wonderful,” breathed Betsey. “Just like a real house.”

“It’s not bad at all,” Desmond admitted.

“Desmond, you can’t come in,” said Betsey. “Not unless I say so, because it’s my house.”

“Thanks a lot!” sniffed Desmond. “Anyway, I’ve got homework to do, so you keep your house.” And with that, off Desmond marched.

“That was a bit mean, Betsey,” said May.

“Never mind him. Let’s get some things to make my house more homely,” said Betsey.

So off they went. Betsey gathered up her dolls, her bow and arrows and some of her books. Then she took the sheet and the pillow off her bed and into the back yard. In the meantime, May made some ham and tomato sandwiches.

“It’s a bit cramped,” said May, once everything was placed in the hut.

“That doesn’t matter.” Betsey smiled. “It’s lovely and it’s
mine
!”

They sat down to eat their sandwiches but the hut was so small they were squashed up against each other and their feet stuck out of the entrance.

“Shall we play a game?” May suggested after they’d finished eating.

“No, it’ll make my new house untidy.” Betsey shook her head.

“Your house is too small to get untidy,” said May.

“You’re the only one making my house untidy. And if you don’t like my house you can always leave,” said Betsey, crossly.

“I don’t mind if I do.” May crawled out of the hut and stood up. “I won’t stay where I’m not wanted.”

Betsey folded her arms as she sat in her house, getting crosser than cross. This was her house and she wasn’t going to let May or Desmond in it, or anyone else for that matter. She was going to keep it all for herself. And that way it would stay clean and tidy and be all hers. Betsey looked around her house. It was small but perfect. She couldn’t believe she had her very own home. The only trouble was . . . it was a bit lonely. There was no one to play with and no one to talk to.

“That doesn’t matter,” Betsey told herself.

But as she sat in her home, all alone, she began to feel that it did. What was the point of having her very own house if she didn’t have anyone to share it with? The back yard was so quiet. She could hear the bamboo plants at the side of the yard, creaking as the wind blew through them, but that was all. She missed Gran’ma’s laugh and Mum’s voice. She missed Sherena’s moaning and complaining. She missed May’s company. She even missed Desmond teasing her. Betsey stuck her head out of the entrance to her hut. Grey clouds were scudding across the sky. Betsey crawled out of the hut and stood up in the back yard. She smiled up at the sky, then went into the main house. The whole family as well as May were sitting in the living room, watching telly.

“What are you doing here?” asked Desmond.

“I thought you had your own home now,” said Gran’ma Liz.

“I do, but it’s going to rain and my house isn’t waterproof,” said Betsey.

And sure enough, the moment she’d said that there came a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder. Giant raindrops hammered on the roof and the windows.

“See!” said Betsey, happily. “I told you it was going to rain.”

“Quick, Betsey. Your house is going to be washed away,” said Desmond, jumping up. “Come on. If we act now we can save it.”