Four Children and It

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Four Children and It Page 9

by Jacqueline Wilson


  ‘Never mind. You did sing fantastically, and everyone absolutely adored you. You were a superstar,’ I said.

  I waited for her to say I was a superstar too, a brilliant best-selling author – but I waited in vain.

  ‘Anyway, let’s phone Dad and Alice and – and I suppose Dad will drive all the way over and fetch us home,’ I said. My stomach lurched at the thought, but I knew we should do it immediately.

  ‘He’ll go nuts. He hates driving in London,’ said Robbie. ‘I can’t stand it when he shouts at us. Can’t we call Mum instead?’

  ‘She’s at her Summer School. We can’t drag her out of it – and she hasn’t got her car with her anyway,’ I said.

  ‘We don’t need a car,’ said Smash. ‘We’ll go home by ourselves. Then maybe we can sneak in somehow and nip up to our bedrooms and pretend we were there all the time.’

  ‘What planet are you on, Smash? As if that could happen in a million years!’ I said.

  ‘As if I could have a sell-out concert at the O2 arena!’ said Smash. ‘Now shut up and let’s try and find our way out of here.’

  She jumped down off the stage. We all held hands in the dark and stumbled to an exit door.

  Please don’t let it be locked, I said inside my head, my heart beating fast – but the door opened easily enough.

  We stood blinking in the brightly lit corridor.

  ‘But aren’t we in the wrong bit? We need to get back to that dressing room. We left Giant there,’ said Robbie.

  ‘Giant?’ said Smash.

  ‘My dog Giant,’ said Robbie. ‘Do you think Bulldog might have taken him for a walk?’

  ‘Don’t be daft, Robs. Giant doesn’t exist any more – or Bulldog for that matter.’

  Robbie bent his head.

  ‘I loved Giant,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Look, I loved my little kitten –’

  ‘I’m quite glad that parrot’s not real. Gobby-Bird was a bit too gobby,’ said Smash. ‘But I do miss my clothes and those glorious shoes. Have I still got any of my make-up on?’ She rubbed her face experimentally. ‘No, worst luck!’

  ‘Monkey!’ said Maudie mournfully. ‘Want Monkey!’

  We didn’t know if she meant the chinchilla or the Psammead itself. Perhaps Maudie didn’t either. She just knew she was tired and hungry and stuck in a strange corridor, feeling lost and miserable. She started crying.

  ‘Don’t cry, darling,’ I said, shifting her to the other hip.

  Maudie cried harder.

  ‘She wants me,’ said Smash, grabbing her. ‘You want your Smash-Smash, don’t you, Maudie? Come on, we’ll go home and tomorrow you’ll see Monkey again. We can wish for heaps of monkeys if you like and you can play with all of them.’

  ‘I thought it was my turn to make a wish – though I suppose Maudie can go first as she’s little,’ I said.

  ‘I think we should all wish Dad doesn’t get cross,’ Robbie sniffed. ‘Because he will be, especially with me. He just always is.’

  ‘No, he’ll be crossest with me, because I’m the eldest,’ I said, sighing. ‘Look, can’t we just text him, Smash, to let him know we’re safe and on our way home? Though how are we going to get home? We can’t walk, it’s miles and miles and miles, and we don’t even know the way.’

  Robbie and Maudie were already crying and I felt very near tears myself.

  ‘You are pathetic, you lot,’ said Smash. ‘Follow me.’

  I don’t think she really knew where she was going, but she strode along the corridor determinedly, shifting Maudie so that she was riding piggyback. Robbie and I shuffled along after them.

  ‘Hey! What are you kids doing here?’

  A security man stood right at the end of the corridor, staring at us in astonishment.

  ‘How did you lot get in?’

  It was going to be a waste of time trying to explain.

  ‘Run!’ said Smash.

  So we ran for it.

  Robbie and I can’t run very fast, and Smash was carrying Maudie, but he was still a long way away. We thundered back down the corridor, saw a door and hurtled through it – into a busy complex of shops and restaurants.

  ‘Keep on running!’ Smash yelled, though he didn’t seem to be following us now. We saw a sign overhead: To the Underground.

  ‘Aha!’ said Smash. ‘Come on, you lot! We’ll get the tube.’

  ‘By ourselves?’ Robbie said.

  Smash snorted contemptuously.

  ‘I suppose you two always go everywhere with Mumsie-Wumsie,’ she said.

  ‘Shut up! Of course not,’ I said – though she was right.

  Smash marched forward confidently and we bobbed along in her wake.

  ‘What are we going to do about tickets?’ I asked anxiously, wondering if Smash was planning to try jumping over the gate.

  Smash rolled her eyes.

  ‘I suppose I’ll have to donate some of my pocket money,’ she said.

  She took a plastic Mickey Mouse purse out of her jeans pocket.

  ‘But it’ll cost heaps,’ I said.

  ‘I’ve got heaps,’ said Smash, fingering a little wad of paper money.

  She asked for two children’s travel cards at the kiosk, and handed one to me.

  ‘What about Maudie and Rob’s?’

  ‘They’re too little to need tickets. Don’t you know anything?’ said Smash.

  I didn’t seem to know anything, even though I was a year older. Though I’d travelled on a tube in London before I had no idea which platform to go to or where to get off, but Smash just glanced at a strange underground map and worked it all out in a flash.

  The underground was quite crowded and several couples stared at us.

  ‘Are you children all by yourselves?’ one middle-aged lady asked, looking concerned.

  ‘Yes, we are,’ said Smash. ‘But it’s all right. I’m looking after them.’

  I blushed furiously, aware I was taller than Smash and clearly the eldest.

  ‘Does your mother let you travel around after dark by yourselves?’

  ‘She doesn’t have any choice,’ said Smash. ‘She’s got this illness and she’s in a wheelchair and our dad cleared off ages ago.’

  ‘Oh dear!’ said the lady, taking her seriously. ‘But surely – surely there must be someone who could help?’

  ‘We don’t need help, thank you,’ said Smash.

  The tube train rumbled into the station, making Maudie suddenly start whimpering in alarm.

  ‘There now, Maudie, it’s okay, darling. It’s just a funny train,’ said Smash, jogging her up and down. ‘On we get.’

  Robbie didn’t like the tube either. He wouldn’t get on. He froze like a statue, his foot hovering over the gap. He peered at the dark track below anxiously.

  ‘We could fall down,’ he said.

  Smash would normally have groaned at him, but now she coaxed him gently.

  ‘Come on, Robs, it’s quite safe, honestly. You can’t fall – and if you do I’ll catch you!’

  Robbie didn’t look convinced, but the woman seemed very impressed.

  ‘What an amazing plucky little girl,’ she murmured.

  Smash smirked at me, enjoying herself enormously. I wasn’t so sure she’d become a rich and famous singer in the future. It seemed more likely she’d become a rich and famous actress. Or even a London Tour Guide – she seemed to be able to find her way around instinctively. She signalled for us all to get off the tube at Waterloo and led us along mystifying tunnels.

  Maudie had nodded off to sleep, but Robbie was ultra wide awake and fearful still, hating the tube noise and the tunnels and the muffled announcements to mind the gap and stand clear of the doors. He didn’t like the escalators up to the mainline station either. I had to practically drag him up with us.

  Smash consulted the indicator board. I did too, of course, though I wasn’t even sure which station would be nearest to Dad’s house. While my eyes were still swivelling up and down the lists of places, Smash shouted
triumphantly, ‘There! Platform eight. Come on!’

  The train was quite crowded and again people stared at us. Someone else asked if we were on our own and Smash started her poor-plucky-little-me story all over again. She overdid it a little, killing our mother off altogether and inventing a cruel stepfather who shouted at us all the time and hit us if we dared argue with him.

  ‘He’s especially mean and cruel to my little brother here, making him join a gym club and then getting at him because he’s so hopeless,’ said Smash. ‘He’s terrified of him, aren’t you, Robbie?’

  Robbie went bright red.

  ‘Dad isn’t really like that!’ he hissed when the woman got out at the next station.

  ‘I know. I was just telling her a story,’ said Smash.

  ‘Well, don’t tell stories about our dad,’ I said. ‘He isn’t mean and cruel.’

  ‘Then why are you both so scared of him getting cross with you?’ said Smash. ‘You’re practically wetting yourselves over what he’ll say when we get back.’

  ‘No, we’re not. We’ll explain it wasn’t really our fault,’ I said.

  ‘So you’re going to explain we’ve been all round London in a limo and you’ve done a book-signing and Robbie’s done a cookery programme and Maudie’s been on the Start-at-Six Show and I’ve been a megastar at the O2 arena?’ said Smash. ‘Oh yes, of course he’ll understand.’

  ‘So what can we tell him?’ I said.

  ‘We’ve got to make them feel scared and sorry, and not blame us,’ said Smash. ‘I know! We could tell them this creepy guy attacked us in the woods and dragged us to his van and drove away with us and locked us up in this awful shed, but I managed to climb out of the window and let all you lot out and we just ran for it. Yeah, let’s say that!’

  ‘No, we can’t, because he’ll call the police and we’ll all be questioned and Robbie’s useless at lying – he just goes red and cries.’

  ‘I do not,’ said Robbie, going red and nearly crying.

  ‘And they’ll want statements and descriptions and we’ll end up perjuring ourselves in court and we’ll be put into some awful children’s prison,’ I said.

  ‘That might be quite good fun,’ said Smash. ‘I bet it wouldn’t be nearly so bad as this boarding school my mum sent me to – though I sorted out all the other kids and got to be boss of the dormitory. Even the big girls used to do what I said.’

  ‘I can well believe it,’ I said wearily.

  ‘Look, it’s okay. I’d look after you lot,’ said Smash. She cradled Maudie, who was still fast asleep. ‘I’d especially look after Maudie.’

  ‘We don’t need you to look after us,’ I said haughtily.

  When we got off at the right station and stood uncertainly on the forecourt, not really sure which way to go, an older man came up to us.

  ‘You kids look a bit lost,’ he said, and he put one arm round Smash and one arm round me. ‘Look, I’ve got my car parked over there. I’ll give you a lift home, shall I?’

  ‘Stranger danger!’ Robbie and I mouthed to each other.

  ‘No thanks, there’s our dad over there!’ said Smash, pointing into the darkness.

  We ducked away from the stranger and ran.

  ‘Is Dad really here? I can’t see him,’ Robbie panted.

  ‘We just needed to get away from that weirdo,’ said Smash.

  ‘Look, Smash, you must phone Dad and Alice now!’

  ‘No fear! I’ll have to pretend I’ve lost my mobile. Who’s got pockets? Come here, Robbie.’ Smash thrust her mobile into Robbie’s pocket, squashing it up with his lion. ‘There now. They won’t search you. Come on, I think we go down that road over there. It’s not too far.’

  ‘But what are we going to say when we get home?’

  ‘Leave it to me,’ said Smash.

  ‘Yes, that’s what I’m worried about,’ I said. ‘You can’t go making up one of your mad stories. How about us keeping it really simple? We were in the woods and we wandered off and we got lost. And then we got tired and went to sleep and when we woke up it was dark, and we’ve been trying to find our way home ever since. And you lost your phone somewhere in the woods – it just fell out of your pocket.’

  Smash and Robbie blinked at me, not looking particularly impressed at my sudden brilliant inspiration. Even Maudie snuffled disapprovingly in her sleep, her head lolling against Smash’s shoulder.

  ‘It’s a bit lame, that story,’ said Smash. ‘It makes us all sound like little kids Maudie’s age.’

  ‘Yes, but then they won’t be so cross with us,’ I said.

  They were cross anyway. Very, very cross, though first there was a lot of hugging and crying. Dad held Robbie in one arm, me in the other, and hung on to us hard, as if he would never let us go. Alice cried all over Maudie, and then Dad pulled them close too. We were all in an embracing huddle – except Smash.

  Then Dad had to phone the police, because they’d been out searching for us. They’d even sent a helicopter up to hover over the woods.

  ‘Oh wow! I wish we’d had a ride in it!’ said Smash.

  She didn’t seem to mind a bit when Alice shouted at her and said she was incredibly naughty and irresponsible and a bad influence on all of us. She just stood there, smiling, going, ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ until Alice shook her.

  ‘How dare you behave like this!’ said Alice. ‘I was going out of my mind with worry.’

  ‘Only because you were scared something had happened to Maudie,’ said Smash. ‘You don’t care tuppence about me.’

  We were sent to bed in disgrace. Smash pulled the covers over her head and seemed to go to sleep straight away – but when I woke up hours later I heard little sad snuffling sounds coming from her bed.

  ‘Smash?’ I whispered.

  The sounds were muffled, but I could still hear them.

  ‘Smash, are you crying?’

  ‘Of course not, you idiot. Shut up, you’ve woken me now,’ Smash whispered fiercely.

  I struggled with myself. Why did she always have to be so rude and horrible? I really couldn’t bear her. Then I heard another little sob.

  I got out of bed and bent over her. I felt her cheek. It was very wet.

  ‘Oh, Smash,’ I said gently.

  ‘I’m just furious because I didn’t get to carry on singing at the O2,’ said Smash.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ I said, deliberately echoing her. I searched for my shoulder bag in the dark. I found a wad of tissues and my purse. I gave Smash the tissues and started clinking in my purse for some money.

  ‘I haven’t got enough to repay you for the train fare,’ I said. ‘But look, take this.’

  I found her hand in the dark and pressed two coins in it.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Two pence. I care. About you.’

  ‘No, you don’t. You hate me.’

  ‘I do sometimes. But then I hate Robbie sometimes too, and he’s my brother. Well, I suppose you’re my sister now. And you were great singing during the wish. And really great getting us home safely.’

  Smash snuffled again, but she squeezed my hand in the dark.

  ‘I’m going to wish we’re rich and famous all over again tomorrow,’ she said.

  But we didn’t get a chance to wish anything at all. We were still deeply in disgrace and weren’t allowed out.

  ‘Couldn’t we just have a little picnic in the woods for Maudie’s sake?’ Smash said. ‘She so loves going there – and she hasn’t done anything naughty at all. Well, we haven’t either. We couldn’t help getting lost – and we promise, promise, promise we won’t get lost again.’

  ‘You can promise till you’re blue in the face. You’re not going on another picnic,’ said Alice.

  ‘Couldn’t we go to that lovely sandpit place without a picnic?’ I said. ‘Or you and Dad could take some food and wine while we have to go without. That would be a fantastic punishment for us.’

  ‘Be quiet, Rosalind. You’re not going in the woods again. You’re n
ot going anywhere. You can’t be trusted,’ said Dad.

  They remained adamant. We were stuck at home. To be truthful, it would normally be my idea of bliss to stay indoors all day, so long as I had enough books to read. Robbie likes reading too, or he’s happy to play a long complicated zoo game with his animals. But this was a nightmare for Smash. Alice wanted to punish her particualrly, convinced it was all her fault yesterday. She confiscated her laptop so she couldn’t play any games, and wouldn’t let her watch any DVDs. We had to stay in our rooms while Dad and Alice played with Maudie downstairs.

  ‘Well, they can’t keep me cooped up here,’ said Smash, going to the window. ‘I’m going to climb out and walk to the woods. I’ll find the Psammead. I’ll wish … I’ll wish my mum gets warts all over her face and your dad goes bald and they’ll both get really, really fat and disgusting and hate the sight of each other and then they’ll have a breakdown and get locked away in separate loony bins. We’ll stay here with Maudie and get wishes every day. How about that?’

  I went to the window too. We were only on the first floor, but it was still a very long way from the ground.

  ‘Don’t be mad, Smash. You’ll be smashed if you try to jump for it.’

  ‘If only there was some way I could get down,’ Smash fretted. ‘I just need a rope or something.’

  In boarding-school stories they always escaped from the dormitories by knotting sheets together, but this still seemed a highly dangerous idea, so I didn’t share it with Smash.

  ‘I don’t think escaping would work. Or magic spells against Dad and Alice. They’d get even crosser with us after sunset and keep us locked up forever. No, we’ve got to make them think we’re really sorry. When Robbie and I have a fight with Mum, we always write her a letter afterwards saying sorry and it makes her cry and forgive us straight away.’

  ‘I’m not writing a stupid letter!’ said Smash.

  ‘Don’t then. But I’m going to. And I’ll get Robbie to write one too. Robs, come in our room. I need you to do something,’ I called.

  I carefully tore a couple of pages out of my drawing pad and opened my big tin of coloured pencils.

  ‘Let’s do the friezes first,’ I said to Robbie, drawing his margin for him because he always wobbled the ruler.

 

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