Fizzypop

Fizzypop
Jean Ure

The first book about ten-year-old FRANKIE FOSTER – the girl who wants to help, but ends up causing chaos!Frankie Foster loves fixing people's problems. Her help might not always be welcome – and she might cause the odd total disaster – but Frankie always fixes things. Eventually!It all started with the “My Beginnings” essays that Frankie and her classmates had to write for English. Her best friend, Jem, wrote all about how she felt being adopted and it was so good it got chosen to be read out at the end of term Speech Day!But writing the essay stirs up some questions for Jem, and she starts wondering about the identity of her biological mum. Needless to say, Frankie jumps at the chance to uncover the mystery and makes it her mission to reunite mother and daughter… regardless of the consequences!

For my editor, Rachel Denwood,

who sowed the seeds.

Everyone seemed to think it was my fault that Rags ate the rissoles. I always get the blame for everything! Like when I encouraged one of my best friends to try and trace her birth mother. Mum said I shouldn’t have interfered. But I wasn’t interfering! I just wanted to help.

Contents

Cover (#ufad2b8d5-dde4-5adf-af05-dba1e9bc0a91)

Title Page (#ueb0661da-950f-5d68-9c5b-0829701857ad)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Turn over for a sneak preview...

Also by Jean Ure

Copyright

About the Publisher

Everyone’s talking about Frankie!

“As soon as I opened Fizzy Pop I knew this was going to be a fantastic read! From the very first word Frankie spoke, I realised she was going to be my friend.”

Imogen, age 12

“Original, funny and well-written, you just can’t put Fizzy Pop down. I loved getting to know the characters through the story, especially Frankie, and her here-to-help attitude was really hilarious. The book was a real page-turner; I read it in one night it was that captivating.”

Beth, age 9

“This book is addictive! It’s funny and brilliant with great characters and a fantastic storyline. Frankie Foster’s adventures are gripping with lots of twists – I could not put it down!”

Zoe, age 12

Chapter One

“FRANKIE FOSTER!” My sister’s voice came shrilling down the stairs. “Was this you?”

Uh-oh. Trouble!

Guardedly, I said, “Depends what you’re talking about.”

“This. This is what I’m talking about!”

She stood, quivering with rage, on the top step, waving a bit of rag. Well, at first glance it looked like a bit of rag. At second glance I could see that it was in fact her pink-and-white stripy shirt that I had kindly ironed for her just the other day. Unfortunately, there had been a slight problem with the iron; it had got too hot, or something. Obviously faulty. I find that a lot of the things I have to deal with turn out to be faulty. It is somewhat discouraging.

“Well?” Angel thumped impatiently on the banister rail.

I said, “Well—”

“I know it was you, so don’t bother trying to deny it!”

I hadn’t been going to deny it. I suppose I have my failings, same as anyone else, but I do try to be truthful whenever I can.

“There’s something wrong with the iron,” I said.

“There’s nothing wrong with the iron, you idiot!”

“There must be,” I said. “It didn’t do that to the other things. It was only when I got to your shirt it went funny.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” She was shrieking now. She does a lot of shrieking. “Eleven years old and you haven’t even learnt how to use an iron properly!”

I resented that, considering I’d done a whole load of sheets and pillowcases without so much as a single wrinkle. I was proud of my ironing!

“Maybe,” I said, “it’s something to do with your shirt.”

“Yes, you’re supposed to use the iron on cool, you moron!”

I said, “Oh.” And then, “How was I to know?”

“It says it right here, on the label, if you’d just bothered to look!”

“You don’t have to yell,” I said.

“I do have to yell! Yelling’s the only thing that keeps me sane. It’s the only thing that stops me putting my hands round your throat and throttling you! It’s—” She stopped. “What are you pushing for?”