28 Bryony’s New Home
“Are you OK, sweetheart?”
Bryony saw her father staring at her, his eyes wide with concern.
“You gave me a fright just then.” Bill stroked Bryony’s forehead. “Must have dozed off, eh?”
“I didn’t doze off.” Bryony stared at her father. “I saw her, Dad. I saw Mum.”
“But Mum’s in America, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, but so are we.”
Bill smiled and shook his head. “You were dreaming.”
Bryony rubbed her eyes and looked around her. She was sitting in a car. Her dad’s car. And the view through the windows didn’t look like an immaculate American street.
Brown fields. Drab grey sky. England.
“But I saw her,” insisted Bryony. “I went to Mum’s house and...”
Bill’s smile fell. “And?”
Bryony swallowed, and took a deep breath before saying the words. “I saw the girl.”
Bill drew back, his lips parting in surprise. “You know?”
Bryony started crying, and lowered her head. She saw a plastic bag sticking out from under her leg, and realised she was sitting on some sandwiches.
“I’m sorry.” Bill stroked Bryony’s long black hair. “I’m so sorry, love.”
Bryony lifted her tear-streaked face and gazed at her father. He was crying, too.
“She doesn’t love me anymore,” sniffed Bryony. “She doesn’t love me and she never wants to see me again.”
“That isn’t true. Of course she loves you, she always will. And she does want to see you again.”
Bryony stared into Bill’s eyes, and this time she knew he wasn’t lying.
“But when?” she asked, her voice a yearning croak.
“Soon. She’s been busy with work and bringing up the baby. Besides, she was waiting for me to tell you.”
“Couldn’t she tell me herself?”
“She wanted to, but she wasn’t sure how to break it. So I promised her I’d tell you instead.”
“So that’s why you kept her address from me?”
Bill nodded. “Didn’t want you writing to her and finding out before I told you.”
Bryony rolled her dark eyes. “So why didn’t you tell me?”
Bill chewed his bottom lip. “I kept meaning to. But every time I built up to it, something happened and I never got the chance. Besides, I was afraid. Afraid of breaking your heart.”
“Oh Dad…”
“I’m sorry,” sighed Bill. “Guess I botched it up again.”
Bryony shook her head and smiled. “You didn’t botch up, Dad. You weren’t the one who walked out on us for a cleaner.”
Bill grinned. “He was a Hygienic Cleansing Executive, remember? But you mustn’t blame your mother. We were both at fault.”
“I don’t blame anyone, Dad. All I wanted was for things to be like they were.”
Bill’s grin flickered. “But they never can be.”
“I know now.” Bryony nodded slowly. “But do you think she’ll always love me? Do you think I’ll always be special to her?”
“Of course,” said Bill. “Just as you’re special to me.”
They hugged each other, long and hard. Bryony’s pain had faded, and in a way she felt as if a terrible burden had been lifted from them both.
“Come on,” said Bill, taking her arm and helping her from the car.
“Are you OK?” Jane took hold of Bryony’s other arm as she stood up. “We were worried about you. Weren’t we, Edwin?”
Bryony caught sight of the boy standing next to Jane. Edwin stared impassively at her, his freckly face devoid of emotion.
“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I sat on your sandwiches.”
Edwin made no reaction. Bryony closed her eyes.
What had happened? Where was she?
“Are you sure you’re OK?” asked Jane, laying a hand on Bryony’s shoulder.
“I’m fine,” snapped Bryony, opening her eyes again. Then she smiled at Jane. “I’m sorry. I meant to say I’m fine, thanks.”
“Come on,” said Bill, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s go and see the place.”
Place?
Still in a state of bewilderment, Bryony allowed Bill to lead her up the narrow lane until they reached a garden gate. It was painted white, and had a word on it.
“Wychetts.” It was Jane who spoke, smiling as she read the word. “What a quaint name.”
Bryony glanced at Edwin, but before she could speak Bill had opened the gate and dragged her into the garden.
Suddenly the grey clouds parted. Dazzled by the glaring sunlight, Bryony closed her eyes. And moments later, when she opened them, she exhaled a gasp of astonishment.
The sight was glorious to behold. There was an immaculately tended lawn, and neatly arranged borders festooned with an array of gorgeous coloured flowers.
But that was nothing compared to the house.
The cottage was beautiful, like something out of a picture book. The steep thatched roof was in perfect condition, and the windows all had glass in them. The walls gleamed with fresh white paint, contrasting beautifully with the dark brown timbers. The chimney was still crooked, but didn’t look like it would collapse any second.
“It can’t be,” gasped Edwin, shaking his head.
“It is,” said Bryony, after a long period of silence. “It’s Wychetts.”
“But not as we left it,” mused Edwin.
“Oh it’s gorgeous,” sighed Jane, her eyes moist with joy.
Bill opened the front door and beckoned everyone inside. “Wait till you see the interior.”
Jane hurried in. Bryony and Edwin swapped another puzzled look, before haring as fast as they could towards the cottage. They arrived together, and got jammed in the arched doorway. But this time they just laughed and wriggled about until somehow they both fitted through.
If the exterior of Wychetts had changed for the better, the interior had undergone an even more astonishing transformation. No smell of mushrooms, no flaking plaster, and the whole place seemed much lighter somehow. And there was even furniture.
“This is the study,” said Bill, showing them into the first room.
Jane nodded approvingly. “Very nice. But wouldn’t it make a better dining room?”
Bryony and Edwin burst out laughing, and then raced into the lounge.
The room was changed beyond belief. The walls were a warm shade of pink, and the stone floor polished so that it gleamed. The heavy beams that ran across the ceiling had been waxed to a nice shiny finish, but the biggest transformation was at the far end of the room.
A fire glowed welcomingly in the hearth, but it was the carved wooden face above that drew the focus of the children’s attention. Inglenook beamed back at them, as waxed and shiny as the rest of the woodwork. He looked almost brand new.
“What happened?” asked Bryony, hurrying to the fireplace.
“Your wishes came true,” said Inglenook, as though it was obvious.
Edwin reached Bryony’s side. “But I didn’t think we could save Wychetts unless we combined our magic.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at Bryony. “Unless we wished for the same thing.”
“Who said we didn’t?” Bryony shifted awkwardly under Edwin’s searching gaze.
Edwin gasped. “But I thought you wanted to be with your mum?”
“I did,” admitted Bryony. “But…” Suddenly she felt tears welling up again. “But I couldn’t let you get flushed down that dirty old loo, could I?”
“So you chose to save Wychetts, after all!” Edwin’s look of bewilderment morphed into a delighted smile. “Perhaps you’re not as selfish and low down as I thought.”
Bryony smiled back, and hurriedly wiped a tear from her cheek. “I was only worried you’d pollute the local sewage works.”
Edwin laughed, and Bryony saw his eyes were moistening too.
“But I don’t get it,” she sniffed, turning her g
aze back to Inglenook. “I wished to save Wychetts, so how come I ended up at my mum’s house in America?”
“You have Edwin to thank for that,” said Inglenook. “You both wished for Wychetts to be saved, but Edwin also wanted you to know the truth about your mother. For Edwin already understood.”
“Understood what?” said Bryony.
“That there are some things,” said Inglenook, “that magic, even Wychetts’ magic, cannot make better. Some things are best left to time and the heart to mend.”
Some things are best left to time and the heart.
Inglenook’s words repeated in Bryony’s mind. She turned to look at Edwin again. Years ago he’d lost his father, yet he had never been tempted to use Wychetts’ magic to bring him back. That had puzzled her, but now Bryony thought she knew why.
Of course, she still ached for her mother, yet she knew there was no going back. Her life had changed, but not necessarily for the worse. She had a new home now. And Edwin, for that matter. She’d never wanted a brother, but they had been through a lot together in the past twenty-four hours, and Bryony was finding it difficult to remember how life had been without him.
Then there was Jane. Still a bit too smiley for Bryony’s liking, and her taste in clothes would take a lot of getting used to, but she had proved she was stronger than Bryony had suspected. Perhaps, in time, she could think of Jane as a Mum. A real Mum.
And of course, she would always have Dad.
“And this is the lounge,” said Bill, ushering Jane through the door.
“Oh it’s wonderful!” A smiling Jane clasped her hands together. “Just like I dreamed. Oh, and look at this!” She rushed the fireplace and pointed at the carved wooden face.
“That’s Inglenook,” said Bryony.
“He’s beautiful.” Jane tickled the wooden face on the nose. Bryony thought she heard a gentle purring, and the floor trembled slightly. Jane drew back, and then turned to face her husband.
“Well?” asked Bill, sounding a little nervous. “What do you think of it?”
“I think it’s lovely.” Jane planted a big soppy kiss on Bill’s cheek. “And you are the loveliest man in the world for finding it.”
“And you two?” Bill switched his attention to the children. “Do you think you’ll be happy here?”
Bryony and Edwin looked at each other.
“Well?” Jane looked worried by the children’s silence.
Bryony was about to reply, and then saw something scuttling up Jane’s shoulder. It was only small, about the size of a pin-head, but Bryony knew what calamity even the tiniest spider could cause…
But before Bryony could act, Jane had spotted the offending arachnid, scooped it up in her hand and carried it to the window.
“There you go,” she crooned, opening the window to let the spider go free. “You’re much better off outside with all your brothers and sisters.” She turned back to everyone and smiled. “I used to be terrified of spiders. But for some reason they don’t bother me anymore.”
Bryony looked at Edwin, who just grinned.
“Let’s see upstairs.” Bill took Jane’s hand and led her to the door. “Come on kids, bet you can’t wait to see your rooms.”
“We’ve got separate rooms?” asked Bryony.
“With a floor?” asked Edwin.
Bill looked at the children as though they were mad. “Yes, you have separate rooms, both with a floor.”
“And what about electricity?” Bryony glanced at Edwin as she spoke.
Bill nodded. “Of course. What kind of house do you think this is? Now are you coming up with us?”
“In a moment,” said Bryony, waiting till the grown ups had gone before speaking again to Edwin. “I’m sorry about mentioning electricity. I wasn’t poking fun about … you know. The dark thing.”
Edwin grinned. “But I’m not scared anymore. I faced down the Dark One himself.”
Bryony put a hand on Edwin’s shoulder. “You were the hero of the day.” Then she glanced at Inglenook. “But are the Shadow Clan really beaten?”
“Evil can never by truly vanquished,” said Inglenook. “And that is just as well, for there must be a balance in all things. Good and evil. Light and darkness. In a way that is what makes life worth living. However, I think it will be some time before the Shadow Clan attempt anything on that scale again.”
Bryony walked to the window, and peered through the leaded glass into the beautiful garden. She noticed a dead looking tree, but it was covered in pretty pink honeysuckle, and didn’t look threatening anymore. But what was that, staring back at her from behind its great trunk?
Bryony thought she saw a pair of bright green eyes. But in a flash they were gone.
Bryony turned back to Inglenook. “But what if they try something?”
“Wychetts will face many dangers to come,” said Inglenook. “But next time, as Guardians, you will be ready for them. We all will be ready for them.”
“And that includes me,” said a shrill voice from somewhere. Edwin felt movement, and looked down to see a mouse’s head peering up from inside his jacket pocket.
“Stubby! You’re alive!”
“It would appear so,” said the mouse. “If you can class being stuck in a smelly pocket as such. Still, it’s marginally better than a cat’s stomach.”
“You saved my life,” said Edwin, remembering Stubby’s sacrifice. “How can I ever repay you?”
“Please don’t go overboard,” said Stubby. “Five pence should cover it.”
Edwin frowned. “Are you saying my life is only worth five pence?”
“Of course not,” said Stubby. “That figure includes VAT and administration charges. I’ll accept cash, but cheque payment will incur a further processing charge.”
Bryony stifled a giggle, before addressing Stubby herself. “I’m sorry, I should have listened to you from the start. You were right about Edwin and me needing to work together to save Wychetts.”
“Of course I was right,” said Stubby. “Mice are always right.”
“If you say so.” Edwin scooped Stubby up and placed him on the floor. “Now I don’t want to keep you here against your will. You’re free to go if you want.”
“Well, er…” Stubby seemed taken aback by the offer. “I didn’t say I wanted to leave. Maybe I’ll stick around for a while. From what I’ve seen you two will need keeping an eye on.”
Bryony laughed and clapped her hands. She’d never thought she’d be relieved to see that mouse again, but so much had changed in just a few short hours…
“I’m sorry too,” said Edwin suddenly.
Bryony frowned. “What for?”
Edwin angled his gaze to the floor, and there was a long pause before he replied. “That letter from your mum. I should have given it to you before. And I knew all along about the baby. I overheard Mum and Bill talking about it one day round our place.”
Bryony shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I know now.”
Edwin looked up again, a hopeful smile on his lips. “So you’re going to stay here, with me and Mum?”
Bryony pretended to think about it for a bit. “Oooh, well… I suppose so. We’re Guardians, aren’t we?”
“Are we?” Edwin looked suddenly worried. “But didn’t we give up the power when we gave the house to Katya?”
“That is so,” said Inglenook. “However, when you wished for Wychetts to be restored, it was necessary for me to reverse time by one day to accommodate that wish. So the moment when you gave Wychetts to Miss Pauncefoot hasn’t occurred yet. Therefore, technically, you are still Guardians.”
“We are?” asked Edwin and Bryony together.
“Indeed,” said Inglenook. “But there is still much for you to learn. You have barely begun to understand the ancient wisdom. Yours is a heavy burden; the magic must be guarded carefully, and used only for the most important reasons.”
Edwin looked downbeat. “So a cheeseburger’s out of the question?”
&
nbsp; “Eat in or take away?” asked Inglenook.
“Eat in,” replied Edwin. “And spare the gherkins this time.”
Inglenook obliged, and Edwin hummed with delight as he bit into the delicious bun. Bryony watched him eat, and just couldn’t resist herself. Seconds later Edwin choked, and spat out a lump of burger.
“Hey,” he snarled. “It’s made of rubber. I didn’t ask for…” Then he looked at Bryony. “You!”
Bryony threw her head back and cackled. That was until a bowl appeared from nowhere and tipped cold blancmange over her head.
Now it was Edwin’s turn to laugh, but his joy lasted only a matter of seconds before a gooey custard pie slammed into his face.
Then Bryony screamed and ran from the room, pursued by Edwin and an enormous floating bowl of trifle.
Stubby sat on the floor and tutted. “Dear oh dear, Inglenook. I think you’ve got your work cut out with those two.”
Inglenook chuckled, and every stone and timber in the ancient building reverberated with the sound of deep, joyful laughter.
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Wychetts Page 27