"Brandon! Brandon!" screeched Granny Gold."What is it now?" mumbled Brandon.
"I need you. Come here when I order you."
Brandon reluctantly left the blackboard he had been defacing and sloped over to Granny Gold. It was quite difficult to slope as he had a football permanently attached to the bottom of his right trainer, but being a disaffected teenager he did his best.
"What is it, Granny?"
"Someone has moved into the house," Granny Gold said. She looked at her grandson with great significance, but he failed to respond. She took a sip from the teacup she habitually clutched to her chest. "A family called the Plastics," she added with disdain.
"What's that got to do with me?" Brandon moaned.
Granny Gold shook her head in disgust. "Do you think it's fair, Brandon Gold, that we should all have to take turns sleeping in this pitifully small schoolhouse, not to mention that disgusting vet's place - we, who have lived in Plastic St all our lives - while they move straight into the big house?"
Brandon's face changed. "That's not fair!"
"They have a fitted kitchen!" Granny Gold paused to let the words sink in. "And a toilet," she added. Brandon still did not look outraged enough. "They have a TELEVISION!" she hissed.
Brandon's eyes widened. His hands clenched.
"Yes," Granny Gold nodded. "That's how I feel, and if everyone else is in their right mind - and I'm not speaking for the vet - they'll think the same. Now, I want you to go and spy on them."
"Spy, Granny?"
"I mean, make friends. Find out how they got that house. Worm your way in. Like a maggot."
Brandon understood. A smile spread across his face. "Yes, Granny."
"They have two children. They look... pathetic."
Brandon moved a hand self consciously to his head. "We can't all help how we look, Granny."
"You're not still upset about not being ginger enough?" Granny said, peering at him suspiciously through her yellow half-moon spectacles. She didn't like to see any signs of weakness in her favourite grandchild. "I'm sure that's not the reason why your parents asked if you could stay with us."
"Stay with you? Live with you, more like. Just because I don't have ginger hair like the rest of them. Well, I hate them all!" Brandon shouted, trying to stamp his foot and failing.
Granny Gold's face
softened, like a candle in the shape of an ugly old woman that has slightly melted. "There, there. I'm proud of you. Hate is a positive thing, you know. I didn't get where I am today by liking everyone, did I?" She patted Brandon on the cheek. "Now, off you go. And if everything goes according to plan, the Plastic family will be so desperate to leave they'll be begging us to take the house from them!"She tipped her head back for a burst of evil laughter, but stopped as her tea was beginning to slop over the edges of its orange plastic cup. And she was a little worried she might wet herself.
