illustrated by
Nick Maland
‘Tigers have their secrets and their whiskers, their tales and their tails.’
Once upon a time, on an island left off the map of the world, a little girl called BETSY K GLORY meets the mysterious MR TIGER.
Together, they face a giant challenge… a moon to turn blue, berries to collect and wishable-delicious ice cream to create… the sort that makes wishes come true.
Welcome Page
About Mr Tiger, Betsy and the Blue Moon
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Frog Note
Preview
Author’s Note
About Sally Gardner and Nick Maland
About Zephyr
Copyright
For my darling Sylvie, who is too small to read this yet. When she does I hope, like you, she enjoys it.
– SG
For Eloise and Aldo.
– NM
A is from an island that has been left off the map of the world. It is the place where all the letters of the alphabet come from. And this is where our story begins. With a Mr Tiger and a little girl called Betsy K Glory and a rather large moon.
The letters of the alphabet had asked Mr Tiger if he would like to help them write down this story. He was far too busy. The letters of the alphabet also asked Betsy. She said she was far too young. As for the moon, well, that would have just been plain silly, so it was left up to the letters of the alphabet themselves to tell the story. For there are more than enough letters to make every word ever needed. They decided that as O is the first letter of many a fairy tale, O should begin – with…
Once upon a time, there was a little girl called Betsy K Glory. She had purple hair, bright, shiny green eyes, rosy cheeks and a sweet, freckly face. Her mum, Myrtle, was a mermaid. Alas, she had not taken well to dry land and didn’t have freckles.
Her father, Mr Alfonso Glory, had done his very best to make his mermaid bride happy. But there is such a difference between sea and pavements, between having two feet and a mermaid’s tail that, in the end, Betsy’s dad and Betsy’s mum both agreed to a parting of the waves. Betsy’s mum went back to her home under the water. While Betsy, who didn’t have a mermaid’s tail, stayed on land with her dad.
They lived in a tall windy house above Mr Glory’s café. It was built on the quayside overlooking the sea. It was the most famous café on the island. Mr Glory was known for making the most wondrous ice creams. More delicious than any you have ever tasted. His crackle-galore flavours, his Chocolate Cream Wizards, his Ribble Raspberry Wonder, were the stuff of dreams.
So famous was Mr Glory’s ice cream that people came from every corner of the island to eat there. Even though the island had been left off the map of the world, it hadn’t stopped word spreading that Mr Glory was the king of ice cream makers.
Betsy lived a charmed life. The island was a peaceful place to grow up. It had sandy beaches, a blue ocean and nothing horrible ever happened. Her mum often came to visit and on warm days they would go off swimming together in the sea.
We agree, it was somewhat sad that Betsy’s mum couldn’t live with them. In all honesty, it wasn’t so sad that Betsy wasn’t happy, or she didn’t feel loved. And although it would be good to always write stories that are about pleasant things, unfortunately, there would be very little to say. Except that the sun shone every day. That the rain rained every night and that Betsy’s favourite day was Wednesday.
But, before we go any further, the letters of the alphabet want to say they were always busy. Not just writing this story. They were needed for all sorts of other important things, like the daily news. That is how Dad and Betsy first heard that Mr Tiger and his circus were to arrive on Wednesday. But the trouble was, the letters of the alphabet weren’t quite sure which Wednesday. Or more to the point, what kind of circus he would bring with him. Perhaps they didn’t know because when Wednesday came, there was neither sight of Mr Tiger nor sound of his circus.
Wednesday was the day Betsy’s mum would pop out of the sea. Betsy would wait for her on the harbour steps and together they would dabble feet and fin in the water. That is, until Dad turned up to carry Mum back to his café. Here she would sit at one of the little tables, under a shady umbrella, with her tail in a bucket.
Betsy wondered if Mum knew anything about Mr Tiger and his circus. But Mum had a faraway look in her eyes that had more to do with orcas and oceans than circuses.
‘Do you think Mr Tiger has animals?’ asked Betsy. Before Mum could answer Dad appeared with an ice cream he’d made especially for her. He had called it Myrtle’s Minty Mumbo Marvel.
‘It tastes of wishes,’ said Mum. ‘Delicious, mouthwatering wishes.’
‘What would you wish for, Mum?’ asked Betsy. ‘If you had a wish.’
Mum thought about this for a minute and said, ‘I have everything I could wish for – a beautiful daughter, a loving husband – what more could a mermaid want?’
‘Legs,’ suggested Betsy.
Mum laughed. ‘Then I wouldn’t be me, and you wouldn’t be you.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ said Betsy.
‘That’s why,’ said Mum, ‘you have to be careful what you wish for.’
Betsy asked her dad what he would wish for.
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘I have Mum and you. Anyway, a wish is very hard indeed to find.’
Betsy wondered if there was a place where wishes were made. If there was, said Dad, he didn’t know about it.
Mum knew of an island where Gongalong bushes grew. It was said that if the fruit was made into ice cream, you could make a wish from just one scoop and whatever you wished for would come true.
‘Then we should go there,’ said Betsy. ‘And we can pick Gongalong berries when they are ripe. Dad could make them into ice cream.’
‘Why,’ asked Mum, ‘would we need to do that when we have everything we want here on the seashore and in the tall windy house on the island left off the map of the world?’
‘I just thought a spare wish might be useful.’
Mum gave Betsy a hug. ‘But the island is as far away as Sunday,’ she said. ‘And I hear on the seaweed line that a bossy giantess rules it.’
‘That wouldn’t stop Dad, would it?’ said Betsy.
Dad was good at making ice cream but not so sure about giants, bossy or not.
‘Wait a minnow,’ said Mum. ‘There is something else important, but what it is I can’t remember. It has something to do with how you pick the Gongalong berries.’
She thought long and hard, but it had, for the present, swum away from her.
Later that day, as the sun was putting on its red pyjamas and settling down for the night, Dad carried Mum back to the sea. He and Betsy waved farewell and watched as she disappeared beneath the white-kissed waves.
Betsy looked out of her window and up into a sweetshop of stars. There shone a white chocolate moon. She was about to climb back into bed when, to her delight, she saw a star whizz across the black treacle sky. Closing her eyes, she said, ‘I wish Mr Tiger and his circus would come tomorrow.’
‘Crumble cakes,’ said Betsy, for next day, a ship had arrived in port. It was unlike any other she had seen before. Painted in blue and white stripes and festooned with flags. She wondered if her wish might have come true, without even one Gongalong berry.