Jean Ure - Jelly Baby

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A humorous and heart-warming story about a little sister, a big sister, a cat, a dad and… a new girlfriend!Bitsy, or ‘Jelly Baby’ as she’s sometimes called, has been doing just fine living with Dad and big sister Em since Mum died. The housework may not always get done, and dinners might not always be at the table, but none of them ever minded!Until one day Dad brings home a girlfriend – and everything changes. Now it looks like it might be down to the Jelly Baby of the family to keep it from falling apart…

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For Zoe Cross because she apologised Table of Contents Cover Title Page - фото 1

For Zoe Cross, because she apologised

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication For Zoe Cross, because she apologised

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Also by Jean Ure

Copyright

About the Publisher

Right girls Cass clapped her hands Big cleanup Lets get started Em - фото 2

“Right, girls!” Cass clapped her hands. “Big clean-up! Let’s get started.”

Em and I pulled faces. We weren’t used to doing housework! Cass is our auntie, and very easy-going. All the time she’d lived with us we’d just bumbled along in one big happy muddle. Now, suddenly, we had an emergency – today was the day when Dad’s new girlfriend was coming to dinner!

“You can stop all the huffing and puffing,” said Cass. “I want this place spotless! Who wants to dust, who wants to hoover?”

“Bags hoover,” I said. I like hoovering, specially when there’s lots of empty carpet. I’m not so keen on having to move things. Chairs and stuff. Mostly I don’t bother; I just go round them.

Cass pushed the vacuum cleaner towards me. “There you go. OK, Em, seems like you’re doing the dusting.”

Em gave me a venomous glare. She’s my big sister, so she probably thought she was the one that should have been allowed to choose.

“Here you are.” Cass tossed the sleeve of an old sweater at her. Sleeves of old sweaters were what we tended to use for dusting. Also socks with holes, and worn-out shirts. “Why waste money on proper dusters?” is what Cass used to say. She’s totally into recycling.

Em flicked half-heartedly with her old sweater sleeve.

“I’ll need a bit more energy than that!” said Cass. “And you, Bitsy.” She nodded sternly at me. “No missing out on corners.”

I said, “You can’t get into corners. Anyway, we did all this when Dad had his party.” Dad had invited everybody that worked in his department at college, and we had dusted and vacuumed all over the place. Why do it again so soon after?

“For your information,” said Cass, “your dad’s party was way back last month.”

“Was it?” I said. “Blimey!”

“I know,” said Cass, “it’s appalling. Most people do it once a week.”

“No, I meant blimey, it doesn’t seem that long ago.”

“Well, it is, so just get on with it.”

“What are you going to do?” said Em.

Cass cast her eye about the room. “I am going to clear up all this stuff. ” She waved a hand at the dining table, which is hardly ever used as a dining table since we usually eat in the kitchen. As a result it is permanently covered in what Cass calls clutter . A big pile of clothes, waiting to be ironed. Someone’s school bag. Someone’s homework. Someone’s trainers. Books. Newspapers. Bananas. Bananas?

“Where does it all come from?” said Cass. “More importantly,” she added, “where is it all supposed to go ?”

She began picking things up and throwing them into a bin bag. Em and I let out immediate wails.

“Those are my trainers!”

“That’s my homework!”

“Just for now, just for now.” Trainers and homework were tossed into the bag. “You can take them out later.”

On top of the ironing was a big fat fur ball, happily snoozing. It was Bella, our cat. She does a lot of snoozing.

“You can’t move her,” said Em. “Not when she’s settled.”

“Pardon me ,” said Cass. “Some of us have work to do.” With that she plucked poor Bella off the ironing and deposited her, rather rudely I thought, on the sofa. Bella sat up, looking shocked.

“That’s cruel,” I said. How would Cass like it if someone plucked her out of her nice cosy bed and plonked her down somewhere else?

“Can’t help it.” Cass swept up the ironing and flung it in the bag. “Got to make the place look decent. We don’t want Caroline thinking we live in a tip.”

Caroline was the name of Dad’s girlfriend. Caroline Scott-Mason. Very grand!

“Cass is right,” said Em. “We have to make a bit of an effort. It’s only fair.”

She meant fair to Dad. It was ages since he’d had a girlfriend. Unless you counted Polly. Polly was one of the lecturers in his department at college, and for a while we’d had what Cass called High Hopes. And then Caroline had come along. It wasn’t that we didn’t like Caroline, what little we’d seen of her. We liked her a lot! It’s just that we’d known Polly for ever. She’d been there for us all those years ago when Mum had died, before Cass had moved in to look after us. Cass said Dad had probably known her too long and as a result he took her for granted.

“It’s just one of those things. Polly’s like an old comfortable slipper; Caroline is new and exciting. You can’t blame your dad. He was devastated when he lost your mum. It’s not surprising if he’s behaving like a lovesick teenager.”

Was he? Perhaps he was. I giggled.

“Come on,” said Cass. “Give him a break!”

Cass is Dad’s sister and fiercely loyal. She said it was about time Dad found some happiness in his life. “Goodness knows, he’s waited long enough.”

“I agree,” said Em. She gave me one of her looks. What I call her big sister look. Very quickly I said that I agreed too. Cos I did! I was just as anxious as anyone else for Dad to be happy. It was the only reason we were all working so hard to make the evening a success. For Dad’s sake. Nothing else would have had me whizzing around with the vacuum cleaner at five o’clock on a Saturday afternoon without grumbling about it!

I personally consider housework to be a total waste of time, not to mention energy. To my way of thinking, a bit of mess and clutter makes a place more comfortable, but I had this feeling Caroline might be the sort of person that thinks tidiness is important.

I jumped up and flapped my hand at a cobweb hanging off the lampshade. Caroline wouldn’t approve of cobwebs! The two times we’d met her we’d been, like, gobsmacked. How did Dad get a girlfriend like that? Smart and sassy, dressed like she’d just stepped off the catwalk. Dad is the least smart person in the world. Left to himself he would shamble around in the same old baggy joggers and faded sweatshirt until they fell to pieces. And even then he probably wouldn’t notice! He is really not into fashion at all.

We were quite surprised when he poked his head round the sitting-room door to announce that he was going off to fetch Caroline and we saw that he was all dressed up.

“Dad!” I left off vacuuming and skipped sideways to get a better look. “You’re wearing proper trousers!”

Dad shuffled, obviously embarrassed.

“Don’t tease him,” said Cass. “He wants to look nice. He does look nice!”

“I didn’t even know you had that jacket,” said Em.

“Been in the cupboard for years,” muttered Dad. “Thought I’d better give it a go before the moths got at it.”

“Quite right too,” said Cass.

“So, um … how’s it going?” said Dad.

“All under control. Don’t worry! As soon as we’ve finished in here we’re going to start preparing dinner. Right, you two?”

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