Ugenia Lavender and the Burning Pants

  Geri Halliwell shot to fame with the Spice Girls, a global music phenomenon selling over 55 million CDs.

  She has travelled extensively as a United Nations Goodwill Ambassador with particular interest in issues affecting women and children, and she has had two bestselling autobiographies published.

  Geri lives in London and has a daughter, Bluebell Madonna.

  Books by Geri Halliwell

  Ugenia Lavender

  Ugenia Lavender and the Terrible Tiger

  Ugenia Lavender and the Burning Pants

  Ugenia Lavender: Home Alone

  Ugenia Lavender and the Temple of Gloom

  Ugenia Lavender: The One and Only

  This is a work of fiction. These stories, characters, places and events are all completely made-up, imaginary and absolutely not true.

  First published 2008 by Macmillan Children’s Books

  This electronic edition published 2009 by Macmillan Children’s Books

  a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited

  20 New Wharf Rd, London N1 9RR

  Basingstoke and Oxford

  Associated companies throughout the world

  www.panmacmillan.com

  ISBN 978-0-230-73758-7 in Adobe Reader format

  ISBN 978-0-230-74493-6 in Adobe Digital Editions format

  ISBN 978-0-230-73759-4 in Mobipocket format

  Text and Illustrations Copyright © Geri Halliwell 2008

  Illustrations by Rian Hughes

  Brain Squeezers by Amanda Li

  The right of Geri Halliwell to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Visit www.picador.com to read more about all our books and to buy them. You will also find features, author interviews and news of any author events, and you can sign up for e-newsletters so that you’re always first to hear about our new releases.

  Contents

  1. Ugenia Lavender and

  the Burning Pants

  2. Ugenia Lavender:

  Friday the Thirteenth

  3. Ugenia Lavender:

  And the Winner Is . . .

  To Bluebell. Little girl, big imagination.

  It was Saturday morning. The sun was sparkling like fizzy lemonade.

  Ugenia got a phone call from Bronte, one of her best friends.

  ‘Ugenia, I have to go shopping with my mother,’ said Bronte. ‘Please can you come with me?’

  ‘Sure!’ replied Ugenia.

  Shopping with Bronte’s mum? That sounds important, Ugenia thought.

  Ugenia knew that Bronte’s parents were divorced when Bronte was a baby, and that Bronte lived alone with her mother. Although Bronte and Ugenia had been friends for a while now, they only ever hung out at Ugenia’s house. Bronte had never invited Ugenia round to her house, so Ugenia had no idea what Bronte’s mum was like. She thought it was a bit odd, but that maybe Bronte’s mum was just a bit shy, like Bronte.

  ‘Granny Betty, I’m going shopping with Bronte,’ called Ugenia. Granny Betty had been left in charge while Ugenia’s parents were out at the DIY shop.

  Ugenia’s mum was a presenter on Breakfast TV. Professor Lavender, Ugenia’s father, worked at the Dinosaur Museum in town, and he loved anything old and dusty. At the weekends – if Professor Lavender wasn’t working – they both loved doing up their house, 13 Cromer road.

  Granny Betty was actually Ugenia’s great-grandmother, but she was not your average great-grandmother. In fact, she was more than great – she was extraordinary!

  Things you need to know about Granny Betty:

  1. She was 101 years old.

  2. She treated every day like Christmas.

  3. She gave karate chops to anyone who annoyed her.

  4. She did wheelies on Ugenia’s mountain bike.

  ‘Be a love and pick me up some big white pants at the shops,’ grinned Granny Betty, handing Ugenia a five-pound note. ‘I really need some new undies – I turned my other big white pants pink in the wash. Oh, and you can keep the change, Ugenia. My little treat.’

  ‘Thanks, Gran, maybe I’ll get us some jelly beans as well,’ smiled Ugenia gratefully.

  Fifty-five minutes later, a shiny red convertible sports car with its roof down and an engine that sounded like it was clearing its throat, skidded into the small drive of 13 Cromer road, knocking over a flowerpot.

  ‘HURRY UP, UGENIA! HURRY!’ shouted a very thin woman from the driving seat. She had a peroxide-blonde beehive hairdo and bright red lipstick.

  ‘This is my mother,’ said Bronte, cringing with embarrassment and trying to hide in the back seat.

  ‘Darling, don’t call me that! it makes me sound old! Ugenia, do call me Pamela,’ said Bronte’s mum as she looked into the car mirror and applied even more bright red lipstick.

  ‘Hello, Pamela,’ said Ugenia, climbing over the black leather seat and into the back of the car to join Bronte.

  ‘You do realize that today is the most important day of the year?’ said Pamela. ‘it’s the Garrods’ summer sale and there will be bargains galore! You’ll soon discover, Ugenia, that I love to spend, spend, spend!’

  Garrods was a very large department store that sold everything.

  ‘I’m so excited!’ shrieked Pamela, speeding off down Boxmore Hill towards the town centre.

  Three and a half minutes later, Pamela, Ugenia and Bronte whizzed past the twenty-four-hour, bargain-budget, bulk-buyers’ supersized supermarket and finally screeched to a halt outside the large, purple-coloured department store.

  ‘Be a good boy and park it,’ purred Pamela as she threw the car keys at a doorman wearing a matching purple coat and top hat.

  Pamela – and her now windswept beehive hairdo – marched through Garrods’ gigantic glass doors as fast as her six-and-a-half-inch spiky stiletto heels would allow, with Ugenia and Bronte tagging along behind her.

  ‘I want to see the owner – Alfred,’ Pamela announced to an assistant. ‘Tell him his perfect Pammy is here!’

  Before the assistant could move, a tiny, smiling moonfaced man in a purple tailored suit suddenly appeared at the top of a golden escalator.

  ‘Welcome to my universe! How glorious to see my favourite shopaholic once again!’ beamed Alfred, descending majestically and giving Pamela an air kiss on both cheeks.

  ‘Alfred, meet my daugh– I mean, my SISTERS – Bronte and Ugenia,’ said Pamela.

  ‘Nothing wrong with a little white lie to make you look good,’ whispered Pamela to Ugenia.

  ‘Ladies,’ declared Alfred, ‘let’s shop till we drop. Follow me!’

  And with that, Bronte, Ugenia and Pamela followed Alfred up the golden escalator.

  Ugenia gazed around the store with amazement. This wasn’t just any old shop . . . Garrods was spectacular. It sold everything from shoes to sofas, celery to satchels, books to baggage, pants to potatoes. It even sold scented purple toilet paper to wipe pet pooches’ bottoms.

  There were crowds of people pushing and shoving each other, all trying to reach for the same shiny handbags. It felt like a mad jumble sale, with a mishmash of arms and legs.

  This looks like a nightmare
, thought Ugenia, staring at Granny Betty’s five-pound note. I won’t get much change out of this. Everything looks very expensive.

  ‘I want shoes – lots of shoes!’ announced Pamela as they entered the shoe department.

  ‘I want every style in every colour!’ she purred. ‘A girl can never have too many shoes!’

  Alfred snapped his fingers. ‘Consider it done,’ he declared as a mountain of shoeboxes were brought to Pamela’s feet.

  ‘I feel fabulous!’ shrieked Pamela, parading around the crowded shoe department.

  ‘Now, I want undies – lots of undies!’ she announced as they entered the very frilly ladies’ underwear department.

  ‘I want every style in every colour,’ she purred. ‘A girl can never have too many undies!’

  Alfred snapped his fingers. ‘Your wish is my command!’ he laughed, presenting her with an array of multicoloured undies.

  ‘I feel sensational!’ gushed Pamela, beaming at herself in the mirror and hugging the rack of frilly, lacy undies.

  Ugenia stared at Pamela’s teeny-weeny, dainty panties on their pretty little hangers.

  And then she remembered Granny Betty’s request.

  ‘Excuse me, Alfred, but do you have any big white pants?’ enquired a rather embarrassed Ugenia. ‘They’re not for me,’ she added quickly.

  ‘Alfred, I need you!’ interrupted Pamela, who had marched on to the nighties and was stroking racks of pink silk and satin and lace.

  ‘Bronte, I can see why you wanted my support on your mother’s shopping trip,’ muttered Ugenia, frowning. ‘We might as well not be here!’

  Bronte rolled her eyes. ‘I think my mum’s gone mad,’ she whispered to Ugenia. ‘She’s always slightly crazy, but she can’t afford to pay for this stuff – we’re on a budget.’

  Ugenia felt quite sorry for Bronte. She stared at Granny Betty’s five-pound note again.

  Suddenly a man with a silver moustache and a giant cigar strolled in. A pair of green-eyed, identical twin girls with white-blonde hair accompanied him.

  ‘Bronte . . . meet Mr Ronald Brump!’ shrieked Pamela. ‘WE’RE ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED! Surprise!’

  Bronte looked at Ugenia. Ugenia looked at Bronte. They both looked at Pamela.

  ‘Isn’t he totally, absolutely fabulous?’ announced Pamela, beaming at Bronte.

  ‘Don’t you just adore him, sweetie? He’s a generous billionaire and he just loves to buy me mountains of shoes and handbags, which of course makes me so very happy.’ Pamela giggled, clapping her hands joyously.

  ‘We’re getting married very soon, so meet your new stepsisters, Vera and Violet!’ added Pamela, pointing at the snow-white twins.

  ‘Very nice to meet you,’ lied Bronte politely as she went to shake hands with the twins, who were scowling at her coldly.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Vera and Violet in unison.

  ‘I know it’s a bit of a shocker as we only met last week, but it’s love, Bronte, true love!’ said Pamela, throwing her arms around Ronald. ‘And he’s going to buy me a whopping, huge diamond. He’s promised me it’s going to be as big as a cherry tomato.’

  ‘Daddy! You said you were going to buy us each a new puppy!’ snapped Vera and Violet.

  ‘Yes, of course, my lovely princesses,’ gushed Ronald. ‘Alfred, can you help my sweet girls, while I escort Pamela to the jewellery department?’

  ‘With the greatest of pleasure! Follow me!’ said Alfred, striding into the pet department followed by Vera, Violet, Bronte and Ugenia.

  ‘I want that one,’ said Violet, pointing to a fluffy white poodle.

  ‘No, I want that one!’ said Vera.

  ‘I said it first,’ hissed Violet.

  ‘Well I thought it first,’ snarled Vera.

  ‘He’s mine!’ shouted Violet, grabbing the poodle.

  ‘Give me that!’ screamed Vera, snatching the nervous poodle from Violet.

  ‘Now now, girls, there are plenty of poodles for everyone,’ said Alfred.

  ‘What kind of dog have you got?’ sneered Vera at Bronte.

  Bronte said nothing; her mother would never allow dog hair on the carpet.

  ‘She has a Dalmatian called Dante,’ lied Ugenia quickly, desperate to stick up for her friend. ‘he has black and white spots, long legs and a very elegant body. He is totally, absolutely fabulous!’

  Bronte gave Ugenia a confused look.

  ‘Nothing wrong with a little white lie to make you look good!’ whispered Ugenia to Bronte.

  ‘I WANT A DALMATIAN! GET ME A DALMATIAN!’ demanded Vera and Violet in unison, shoving the now terrified poodle into Alfred’s arms.

  ‘We don’t have any Dalmatians at the moment,’ said Alfred hastily, leading the girls away from the puppies and into the garden department.

  ‘How about some lovely roses or lilies?’ Alfred asked.

  ‘I’m allergic to roses,’ said Violet crossly.

  ‘I’m allergic to lilies,’ snapped Vera, glaring at Violet.

  ‘We have an olympic-sized swimming pool in our back garden!’ sneered Vera, turning to Bronte. ‘What have you got in your back garden?’

  Bronte said nothing. She only had a garden hose and two broken deckchairs in her back garden.

  ‘Bronte has a sheep in her back garden,’ lied Ugenia. ‘She’s called Shirley. She’s all woolly and makes lovely jumpers and she’s totally, absolutely fabulous!’

  Bronte gave Ugenia a stern look.

  ‘I WANT A SHEEP! GET ME A SHEEP!’ demanded Vera and Violet in unison.

  ‘Sorry, no sheep in stock at the moment,’ said Alfred, ushering the girls rapidly into the music department.

  ‘Do you like pop or rock music?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t like pop,’ said Vera crossly. ‘I don’t like rock,’ said Violet, glaring at Vera.

  ‘We play our own music at home,’ they said in unison.

  ‘I play the violin,’ said Vera.

  ‘I play the viola,’ said Violet. ‘What kind of instrument do YOU play, Bronte?’ sneered Vera.

  Bronte said nothing. She had never played any kind of instrument, as her mother always had a headache.

  ‘Bronte plays the drums,’ lied Ugenia. ‘She’s actually in a band called the Sugar Snaps, and they have a lead singer called Elvis. They are totally, absolutely fabulous!’

  Bronte gave Ugenia a horrified look.

  ‘I WANT TO PLAY IN A BAND WITH A SINGER CALLED ELVIS!’ yelled Vera and Violet in unison.

  ‘I’m sorry, lovely ladies, your personal shopping time is up and it’s back to your devoted parents,’ Alfred said, hurrying them along.

  He led them back to Ronald Brump who was paying for all of Pamela’s new things – including her gigantic, humongous diamond engagement ring, which sparkled like a star as she waved her hand around proudly.

  ‘Look at the time!’ gasped Pamela. ‘I must make it to my next appointment. I’m having liposuction on my toes!’

  ‘Bronte and Ugenia – say goodbye to Vera and Violet,’ said Pamela, marching off down the golden escalator with twenty bags of shopping. ‘You’ll see them again next Saturday for the engagement party at our house.’

  Bronte looked at Ugenia with horror.

  ‘Goody, we’ll get to meet Dante the Dalmatian and Shirley the sheep,’ said Violet, sniggering.

  ‘Perhaps we can see you perform in your band, the Sugar Snaps, with the singer called Elvis, if we’re really lucky,’ sneered Vera.

  Bronte said nothing.

  ‘Fine – you’ll love everything. It’s all totally, absolutely fabulous,’ gushed Ugenia to the twins. ‘Bronte, meet me at the escalators. I’m just going to give the lovely twins a secret special top tip on how to get along with their new stepmother, Pamela,’ said Ugenia.

  Bronte wandered away as Ugenia began talking intensely with Vera and Violet.

  Two minutes later, Ugenia and Bronte were charging down the golden escalator and climbing into the back of the red convertible sp
orts car. The car was stuffed so high with bags they could hardly move.

  Pamela, Bronte and Ugenia sped off back up Boxmore Hill.

  ‘I hope you didn’t tell any more lies to the horrid twins? And what do you mean, It’s all totally, absolutely fabulous?’ Bronte whispered furiously. ‘I don’t have a Dalmatian called Dante or a sheep named Shirley. I don’t play the drums in a band called the Sugar Snaps! And who on earth is ELVIS?’ Bronte scowled, trying to keep her voice down.

  ‘I just told a few little white lies to make you look good,’ Ugenia whispered back. Bronte hardly ever got cross, but right now she was very, very angry.

  ‘But when Vera and Violet find out it’s all lies, they’ll be vicious,’ groaned Bronte. ‘And worse still, my mother is going to marry their dad and they’re going to be my horrid stepsisters just like in all those fairy tales!’

  ‘Bronte, you can’t believe everything you read,’ said Ugenia, realizing that this was a lot more serious than she had originally imagined. And Vera and Violet Were absolutely vile.

  ‘What am I going to do?’ whimpered Bronte as they approached 13 Cromer road.

  ‘Leave this to me, I’ll fix it,’ said Ugenia, who was not really sure how she was going to fix it. As the car pulled up at the house, Ugenia gave Bronte a hug, said goodbye to Pamela and leaped out.

  ‘Hello, dear,’ said Granny Betty, opening the front door. ‘Did you get my big white pants?’

  ‘Big white pants? Oops! Sorry, Gran. I didn’t get a chance,’ said Ugenia, wondering how on earth she was going to get Bronte out of the pickle she had landed her in.

  ‘That’s OK, dear,’ said Granny Betty, ‘maybe I can get a pair from my friend Mrs Wisteria. She bulk-buys enormous knickers from the undies stall in the market.’

  Then suddenly, like a thunderbolt of lightning, Ugenia had a brainwave.

  INSPIRATIONAL! she thought. I’ll get some help from my friends too! We can make all my white lies true!