by Adele Abbott
“Thanks for your help, Jill,” Peter said.
“Yeah, thanks, Sis. Are you coming around again tomorrow?”
“No chance. That’s my good deed of the year done. Where are the kids, by the way?”
“They’re with my parents.” Peter stretched—I clearly wasn’t the only one with aching limbs. “They’ll be bringing them back in a couple of hours.”
“I hope Mikey has come around by the time he gets back,” Kathy said.
“Why? What’s the matter with him?”
“Pete and I decided it would be nice to get a family photo taken, professionally at a proper portrait studio. We were going to get it framed and hang it above the fireplace in the dining room at the new house.”
“And Mikey’s not keen?”
“He’s refusing point blank to do it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“What can we do? Even if we drag him there, it’s not like we can make him pose for the camera.”
“You could always bribe him.”
“What kind of message would that send? That’s not how good parenting works, Jill. You’ll realise that when you have kids of your own.”
Chapter 7
I arrived home just in time for Jack to serve dinner. I’d texted earlier to let him know that his mum was okay, but I waited until we could speak face-to-face to tell him about her new job.
“Working in a tea room? Mum?” He was even more surprised than I’d been. “I never would have thought she’d want to do something like that.”
“She said she was bored, and that the money would come in handy.”
“How did she seem to be taking to it?”
“She was still struggling with the coffee machine, but she’ll soon get to grips with it. I did.”
“I guess so. If you could master it, I’m sure she won’t have any problems.”
“Cheers for that.”
“No, I didn’t mean—err—I meant—”
“Jack, now would be a good time to stop digging that hole.”
“Right. Sorry. How was work today?”
“It sounds like Mrs V and Armi may have found a new house.”
“That’s great.”
“Not really. From the outside, it looks like a giant cuckoo clock.”
“That should please Armi.”
“But not Mrs V. I said she should tell him she didn’t want to live there.”
“Do you think she will?”
“I’m not sure. If her little gingerbread man has his heart set on it, she might not be able to bring herself to say anything. In other news, Winky’s Aunt Wynn came into the office today.”
“Is she nice?”
“No, she’s a nightmare. She spoke to me like I was the hired help. From what I could make out, Winky had led her to believe that it was his office, which he generously allowed me to share.”
“Didn’t you put her right?”
“Winky hurried her out of the window before I had the chance to. Don’t worry, though, he and I will be having a long talk when I catch up with him.”
We’d finished dinner, and I was loading the dishwasher.
“I’m really excited about tonight.” Jack was still at the table, fiddling with his phone.
“Why? Is there something good on TV?”
“Very funny. Like you’ve forgotten.”
Whatever it was he was talking about, I’d definitely forgotten about it. “Of course I haven’t. I’m just winding you up.”
“I thought I might have a quick strum before we set off.”
Oh no! “The community band?”
“You had forgotten.”
“No, I hadn’t. It’s just that I thought it was next week. Are you sure it’s tonight?”
“Positive. Why don’t you put in a few minutes practice before we go?”
“Err, I don’t think so. I’m pretty much up to speed.” Plus, I had no idea where I’d put the stupid penny whistle.
“I’m going to get changed.”
“Okay.”
As soon as Jack was upstairs, I began to go through all the drawers and cupboards, but there was no sign of the whistle. How would I explain that I’d managed to lose it?
Jack walked into the kitchen to find me emptying the contents of my bag onto the worktop.
“I found this in the bottom of the wardrobe.” He handed me the penny whistle.
“Thanks. I put it there for safe-keeping.”
“What are you doing?”
“I seem to have lost my phone.”
“It’s there.” He pointed to the table.
“So it is. Silly me.”
***
“I bet no one turns up,” I said, as we made our way to the dilapidated scout hut, which was home to the community band.
“I think you’re wrong. All the people I’ve spoken to seem really buzzed about the band. I’m really excited to see how everyone has progressed since the last meeting.”
“People start off with good intentions, but I expect most of them won’t have had time for any real practice.”
“I managed to find time.”
“Yeah, but you’re a—err—”
“A what?”
“An exception. Not everyone has your level of dedication.”
“We’ll see.”
The Liveleys had obviously appointed themselves bandleaders, and it was they who greeted us at the door.
“I’m glad you could both make it.” Britt was either exceptionally cold or she was sporting a new blue lipstick. “It’s another good turn-out.”
She was right. I’d expected there to be a huge drop-off in attendance, but if anything, there were even more people this time around.
“A little bird tells me that you’ve got in a lot of practice on the ukulele, Jack,” Kit said.
“Not all that much,” Jack lied. “Only when I had a few minutes to spare.”
Who was he trying to kid? I was practically a ukulele widow.
“What about you, Jill?” Kit turned his perfect smile on me. “Have you managed to get in much practice?”
“Not as much as Jack, that’s for sure.” I glanced around the room. “No refreshments again, then?”
“We considered it, but we figured no one would be bothered.”
Was he serious? I was bothered—very bothered.
“Okay, everyone!” Kit called for silence. “Welcome to the second meeting of the community band. If you’re anything like Britt and me, you’ll have been counting the minutes to this meeting.”
I glanced around and saw that everyone else seemed to be nodding, so I did the same.
He continued, “We thought it would be interesting to see how much progress you’ve all made since our first meeting.”
This should be a laugh.
Britt spoke next, “When I call your name, please step forward and give us a demonstration of what you can do. And don’t worry if you haven’t quite mastered your chosen instrument, no one is going to judge you. Why don’t we start with Mr Ukulele himself? Our next-door neighbour, Jack.”
He stepped forward, eagerly, ukulele in hand. “Thank you, Britt. I still have a long way to go to master this magnificent instrument, but I hope you’ll notice a slight improvement.”
Don’t you just hate false modesty? Slight improvement? He absolutely nailed his performance. When he’d finished, everyone in the room applauded loudly. I was praying Britt wouldn’t call me next because there was no way I could follow that.
She didn’t. In fact, it was as though I was invisible because she called everyone in the room except for me. Not that I was complaining.
The Normals were now centre stage, playing their evil triangles, and even I had to admit they were really good. When they’d finished, there would be only one person left to call, and that was me.
I honestly didn’t think many people would have bothered to practise, but I’d been proven wrong. Everyone had come on in leaps and bounds since the last meeting. Everyone t
hat was except for me. There was no way I could start tooting the penny whistle. Not only would I be a laughing stock, but I would have let down everyone else.
I had three options available to me.
One: Admit that I hadn’t practised but promise to do so from now on.
Two: Make a run for it.
Three: Use magic.
Yes, I do realise that I’d promised Daze I wouldn’t use magic willy-nilly, but this was a real emergency.
While the Normals were still tinkling away on their triangles, I sneaked away to a quiet corner at the back of the room and took out my A-to-Z of spells.
What? I know I haven’t mentioned it before. A girl has to have some secrets.
The question was, where was it likely to be? There was nothing under P for penny whistle. There were a couple of entries under W for whistle, but they weren’t related to musical instruments. Come on, Jill, think! Finally, I tried C for cheat, and bingo! There were dozens of spells on how to cheat at all manner of things. One of them allowed you to fake being able to play a musical instrument. The instructions claimed it would work for any instrument. I’d just have to hope that included the penny whistle.
“Jill!” Britt called. “It’s your turn.”
“Coming.”
On my way to the front, Jack caught my eye and mouthed the words, “Good luck.”
As I faced the crowd, penny whistle in hand, I felt as nervous as a kitten. How was I supposed to play with dry lips? What if the spell didn’t work? Maybe whoever had come up with the spell hadn’t considered the penny whistle to be a ‘real’ instrument.
I was about to find out.
“That was fabulous, Jill!” Britt gave me a hug. “I loved every minute of it.”
“Thanks.”
“I didn’t realise a penny whistle could make such beautiful music,” Kit said.
Everyone was singing my praises. Everyone, that is, except Jack who was waiting for me by the door. He didn’t look happy.
As we walked home, he didn’t speak.
“Did you hear me play?” I asked.
“Oh yes. I heard you.”
“What did you think?”
He stopped dead in his tracks and glared at me. “Have you forgotten already what Daze told you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t give me that, Jill. On the one occasion you could be bothered to practise, I heard you playing. It was beyond bad.”
“I practised when you were out.”
“Look me in the eyes and swear that you didn’t use magic.”
“I—err—”
“I knew it.” He stormed off.
“Wait.” I had to run to catch up with him. “You heard the others. Can you imagine how bad it would have been if I’d got up there without using a little magic to help?”
“I can, yes. It would have looked like you couldn’t be bothered to practise, which is true.”
“I’m sorry.” I grabbed his arm. “I shouldn’t have done it.”
“No, you shouldn’t. It’s not that I care about you cheating, although that is totally despicable. It’s the thought that I could lose you over something as ridiculous as this. Can’t you see that?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. It was stupid.” I gave him a kiss. “Do you forgive me?”
“You can’t do it again. You’ll just have to drop out of the band.”
“Aww.” It took all my willpower not to punch the air. “I suppose you’re right. If I must, I must.”
Although I felt bad about upsetting Jack, that was more than offset by the knowledge that I’d never have to take part in the community band again. A result if ever there was one.
“I’m bushed, and I have an early start,” Jack said, as soon as we got into the house. “I’m going straight up to bed.”
“Okay.” I gave him a kiss. “I’m going to grab a drink and a snack before I come up.”
“Don’t overdo the biscuits. You know they give you nightmares.”
“I won’t.” The first thing I did when I went into the kitchen was to drop the penny whistle into the pedal bin. “Good riddance.”
I’d just put on the kettle and was trying to decide how many custard creams I should allow myself when Jack came rushing down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Dandelions! Upstairs! Dandelions!”
“Jack, you aren’t making a lick of sense.”
“Our bed is full of dandelions.”
“Why?”
“How should I know?”
“Are you sure? Did you doze off and dream it?”
“No, I didn’t. Come and see for yourself.”
And, lo and behold, he was right. Every square inch of our bed was covered in the small yellow flowers.
I turned to Jack who had followed me upstairs. “Did you do this? Because if you did, I have to tell you that roses would have been way more romantic.”
“I didn’t do anything. It was like this when I walked into the room. I think I will have that drink.”
“The kettle has only just boiled. I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Has he gone?” The tiny voice came from on the bed.
“Who said that?”
“I did.” One of the dandelions stood up. Not only had it sprouted tiny arms and legs, but it also had a sweet little face. “I’m Tingle.”
“Dingle?”
“No. It’s Tingle with a T.”
“Are you a—err—what are you?”
“I’m a dandelion fairy.” She spread her arms. “We all are.”
As if on command, all the dandelions got to their feet.
“What are you doing in my bedroom?”
“We were sent to see you by our queen. She wants us to take you back to her palace.”
“I was just about to go to bed.”
“It’s a matter of the utmost importance.”
“Okay. How do we get there?”
“Stand still, please.”
I did as she asked, and moments later, I was covered from head to toe by the small dandelion fairies.
“Do I need to use magic?” I asked, being careful not to swallow any of the fairies perched on my lips.
“That won’t be necessary. Just relax and let us do all the work.”
“Okay.”
“Ladies!” Tingle shouted. “On three, we return to Dandelion Central. One, two, three.”
Chapter 8
I’d been expecting the fairies to use magic to transport us all to Candlefield, but I was wrong. Instead, a number of them flew over to the window and opened it. Before I could ask what was going on, I found myself being lifted off the ground.
This was all kinds of weird.
How such tiny creatures could lift me was beyond my comprehension, but I didn’t have time to give it much thought because, the next thing I knew, we were headed out of the window and into the night. If I’d realised I was going to be carried across the night sky by a small army of fairies, I would have changed into something warmer.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s not far,” one of the fairies closest to my ear answered.
For such tiny creatures, not only were they incredibly strong, but they were also remarkably fast. We’d long since left the outskirts of Washbridge, and as far as I could make out, we were travelling south. I tried to get my bearings by looking for landmarks, but we were too high, and most of the time the ground was obscured by clouds. Eventually, we began to descend, and put down in what appeared to be the grounds of a stately home.
Relieved to be back on my feet, but still feeling a tiny bit jittery after the journey, I watched the dandelion fairies assemble in two long lines on the lawn.
“Where are we?”
“The royal family lives here.” Tingle was now the only dandelion fairy still on my body; she was standing on my left shoulder. “You might know it as the botanical gardens in Oxford.”
“I thought it looked familiar. Kathy and I came h
ere when we were kids. How long has your royal family lived here?”
“For over four-hundred years.” She pointed to the far side of the lawn. “The queen is coming now.”
The queen and her entourage began the slow walk towards us, making their way along the path created by the two rows of dandelion fairies. As she did, she acknowledged the cheers and waves of her subjects on either side.
“How should I address her?” I whispered to Tingle.
“You say: Your Royal Dandelion.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“Sorry, it’s just that I was once tricked into calling a king Top Dollop.”
“Top what?”
“Never mind.”
At last, the queen had reached the spot where I was standing. I suddenly felt huge and wondered if I should have shrunk myself ahead of the meeting, but it was too late now.
“Thank you for coming to see me, Jill Maxwell.”
“My pleasure, Your Royal Dandelion.”
“Did Tingle explain why I wanted to see you?”
“I didn’t, Your Royal Dandelion,” Tingle said. “I thought you’d want to do that yourself.”
“Very well. Am I right in thinking that you can make yourself smaller, Jill?”
“Yes, I can, Your Royal—”
“Enough of the Royal. You must call me Dandy.”
“Okay, Dandy. Would you like me to shrink myself now?”
“Yes, please. Then we can both take tea and cake inside.”
It was rather late in the day for cake, but I had been interrupted before I’d been able to eat my custard creams, so I didn’t feel too guilty.
Dandy’s place was much smaller than royal residences I’d visited before. It was, though, beautifully furnished with fixtures and fittings which all had the dandelion theme.
“How’s the cake, Jill?”
“It’s delicious. What is it?”
“Dandelion cake, of course. And that’s dandelion tea. You’re probably wondering why I had you brought here.”
“I am rather curious.”
“We have a situation in Washbridge. I wasn’t sure who to turn to for help, so I asked some of my fairy cousins back in Candlefield, and your name kept cropping up. Everyone I contacted spoke very highly of you.”