She flew off, still clutching Maudie, so we had to follow her. Robbie got a bit fed up after that and kept moaning that he was tired and his back ached and he was starting to feel dizzy. I was getting tired too, and my own back ached and my shoulders and neck. I just wasn’t used to the weight of my beautiful blue wings.
‘Smash, we need a rest,’ I shouted after her.
‘Oh, you two are hopeless! Look at Maudie – she doesn’t want a rest, do you, darling?’ Smash said.
Certainly Maudie was still bobbing along merrily, her little white wings flapping like handkerchiefs.
I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go down to earth with Robs to have a ten-minute rest. Smash and Maudie would fly miles away from us and we might never be able to catch them up. Yet I could see Robbie was really struggling now, getting redder and redder, his face creased up with effort.
‘Smash!’ I called again.
She looked round and saw Robbie.
‘Okay, okay,’ she said, peering downwards. ‘There’s a great big park beneath us. We can swoop down and hide among the trees for a bit. Oh! Look! Animals, Robbie!’
There was a large herd of fallow deer standing tranquilly below us, flicking their white tails as they nibbled grass.
‘There!’ said Smash triumphantly, as if she’d conjured them up herself.
We all flew down and landed on the soft grass in front of the deer. They didn’t seem at all startled and went on feeding placidly, but a little girl spinning a hula hoop gasped at us and let her hoop clatter to her ankles.
‘You’ve got wings!’ she cried, her eyes huge.
There wasn’t any point denying it, as we were all four flapping frantically, trying to get the knack of folding our wings up neatly, feathers dovetailed into place.
‘Where’s your mum?’ I asked the little girl.
‘Back there, in the trees,’ said the little girl. ‘I came out here to do my hooping.’
‘Well, hoop away then,’ said Smash.
‘You really do have wings,’ said the little girl, and she stepped out of her hoop and edged right up to me. She reached out and touched the very tip of my wing with one trembling finger. ‘Real wings,’ she repeated. ‘So, are you … are you fairies?’
Smash snorted with laughter.
‘That’s right! We’re definitely fairies. Aren’t we pretty?’ she said, striking a silly pose and batting her eyelids.
‘I’ve always, always wanted to see a real fairy,’ said the little girl earnestly. ‘I’ve got all the Rainbow Fairies books and the Flower Fairies with the pretty pictures.’
‘I’m not a fairy!’ said Robbie indignantly.
‘Oh yes, you are,’ I said firmly. ‘We’re all fairies, but you mustn’t tell anyone about us, even your mum, or we’ll disappear in a puff of smoke. You won’t tell, will you?’
‘No, I absolutely won’t,’ said the little girl, shaking her head vigorously. ‘But why are you all so big?’
‘That one’s little,’ said Smash, pointing to Maudie.
‘Yes, but she’s still quite big – and you’re ever so big,’ the little girl said tactlessly.
‘All the better to give you a thump if you’re cheeky,’ said Smash, flapping her wings.
‘Oooh! They’re so beautiful!’ said the little girl.
‘We’re a new breed of big fairies,’ I said.
‘Can you grant wishes?’ asked the little girl.
‘Well, it depends,’ I said cautiously.
‘Can you make me a fairy too?’
‘No, I’m afraid you’re not quite magic enough, but I tell you what – would you like to fly up in the air with us, just a little way off the ground?’ I offered.
‘Oh yes, yes!’
‘Okay! Smash, you take one of her hands. Robbie – Robbie, come over here!’ I said.
Robbie was crouching by the deer, making little murmuring sounds of encouragement to them.
‘Don’t shout, you’ll startle them,’ he hissed, but he came over reluctantly.
‘We’re going to help this little girl to fly and we all need to pull her up and get her airborne,’ I said.
‘And me help too,’ said Maudie.
‘Yes, we’ll all help,’ I said.
‘I thought we came down to have a rest,’ said Robbie, but he held out his hands.
We stood in a circle, the little girl giggling excitedly.
‘Okay, one two three – fly!’ I said.
We all knew how to let ourselves go now and just drift upwards, but it was much harder dragging the small wingless girl up with us. Smash and I had to haul hard, flying lopsided, but we just about managed to get her off the ground.
‘Oh! Oh, I really am flying!’ she cried. ‘Mummy, look!’
‘Sh! It’s a secret! You mustn’t tell your mum, remember. She won’t believe you anyway, she’ll think you’re just telling stories,’ I panted. ‘I think we’re going to have to set you down soon, it’s ever so tiring.’
We managed to whirl her round in a circle for a minute or so and then we all collapsed back on the grass.
‘Can we do it again?’ she asked eagerly.
‘No, we’re too tired. Run away and play now,’ said Smash. She tried to lie flat on her back, but her wings got in the way, even when she folded them up tight. She had to roll over on to her tummy, groaning. ‘Go!’ she barked at the little girl, who was staring.
The little girl ran off, clutching her hula hoop.
‘Don’t be mean to her. Imagine how exciting it would be to go to the park and discover four fully grown fairies,’ I said.
‘I wish you’d stop calling me a fairy,’ said Robbie. ‘I ache all over. How do birds sleep? They’re meant to put their heads under their wings but it’s impossibly uncomfy,’ he said, experimenting.
Maudie was the only one of us who didn’t seem at all tired. She ran around in the grass, hopping and skipping right up in the air, singing her favourite mad nursery rhyme.
‘Hey diddle diddle,
Jack and Jill went up the hill
Atishoo atishoo,
We’ll all have tea.’
‘I’d like some tea,’ said Smash. ‘In fact I’d like some lunch. It seems ages since our breakfast picnic.’
We suddenly realized we were all very hungry and thirsty indeed.
‘There’s bound to be a park cafe somewhere. I’ll treat us,’ said Smash, fishing her fat purse out of her jeans pocket.
‘Yes, but how are we going to stand in a queue with our wings?’ I said. ‘We’ll have a huge crowd round us in no time.’
‘Mmm,’ said Smash. ‘Leave it to me.’
We flopped uncomfortably on the ground a little longer and then flew up into the air, seeking out a cafe.
‘There’s a little food van in the car park, that’ll do,’ said Smash. ‘We’ll fly down behind the trees and walk over. Just act dead casual, as if wings are simply the latest fashion.’
We tried to do exactly that, but it wasn’t easy. Drivers got out of their cars and stared at us, children pointed, and dogs barked hysterically. The people already queuing at the van stepped backwards, as if they were frightened of us.
‘We’d like four big Whippies, please,’ said Smash. ‘And four bars of chocolate, those ones, oh, and four of those fruit pies, yum, yum. And four cans of Coke.’
‘Maudie will get hiccups,’ I said.
‘Okay, four little fruit juices then,’ said Smash. ‘That’ll please Mum – all the fruit, dead healthy.’
The people surrounding us relaxed a little, because Smash sounded so ordinary, but they still stared at our wings as if bewitched. We tried to keep them tightly furled and as still as possible, but it was a great struggle, and way beyond Maudie, who hopped about flapping her dear little white wings, showing off their pink underside.
The man in the van was also staring, mesmerized. Smash shuffled her feet impatiently.
‘I said, we’d like four ice creams, all with chocolate flakes – and f
our Galaxies and four fruit pies and four fruit juices. Please,’ she repeated.
‘Do – do you have money?’ he whispered.
‘Of course I do,’ said Smash, waving her purse and getting out a twenty-pound note.
‘Well, I wasn’t to know. So, what are you then, with your fancy wings? You’re not …?’ He bent forward out of his serving hatch and hissed the word. ‘Angels?’
Smash cracked up laughing.
‘Do I truly look like an angel?’ she said. ‘No, we’re in a film. We’re playing these children who get lots of wishes and in this scene they wish they can fly.’
‘But where are all the film crew and the cameras and everything?’ the man asked, starting to gather everything together and make our Whippy ices.
‘They’re over there,’ said Smash, pointing vaguely. ‘They’ve got their own food canteen but we wanted ice creams, didn’t we?’ she said to Robbie and me. We nodded very hard, trying to act equally convincingly.
‘But your wings look so real,’ said a woman in the queue, and she reached out and touched Smash’s scarlet feathers. ‘Oh my God, they’re warm,’ she said. ‘Feel!’
‘Hey, get off! Watch out or you’ll break them and then the special effects crew will do their nuts,’ said Smash. ‘They’re great, aren’t they? Dead convincing. There’s a kid back there, she seriously thought we were fairies. Sweet, eh?’
‘What are they made of?’ someone said, marvelling.
Smash shrugged, making the feathers on her wings flutter.
‘Feathers!’ she said. ‘Duh!’
‘Yes, but – how do they move?’
‘That’s the complicated bit. We have these little electronic devices stuck to our shoulder blades, very sensitive, so that every time we move our wings do too,’ said Smash.
‘But can you really fly with them?’ said the ice-cream man.
Smash rolled her eyes.
‘Of course not. It’ll all be computer-generated images on screen,’ she said.
‘Yes, of course,’ he nodded as he finished making the last Whippy. He embellished it with rainbow sprinkles, raspberry sauce and an extra flake, and handed it to Maudie, who nearly fainted with joy. ‘Amazing what they can do nowadays. Well, tell the rest of the film crew to come over here for ices and cold drinks.’
He handed us our ice creams and helpfully put the chocolate and pies and juices in a plastic carrier. Smash paid him and we said goodbye to everyone. Then we walked off.
‘Fancy thinking they could really fly! You are stupid!’ someone said behind us.
‘Let’s tease them,’ said Smash, grinning. ‘One, two, three – fly!’
She rose up, fluttering her glorious red and gold wings. There was a great gasp from the crowd round the van.
‘After spinning them all that story!’ I said to Robbie.
‘She’s such a show-off,’ he said. ‘I suppose we’ll have to follow her now.’
We looked round at Maudie.
‘Fly!’ I said.
Maudie didn’t take off properly because she was so eager to eat her ice cream. She bobbed along, feet trailing in the grass, as she nibbled her chocolate flake, an expression of total bliss on her face. Alice didn’t usually let her have ice creams from vans. People were running up to her, arms outstretched, as if they were going to catch hold of her.
‘Quick, grab Maudie!’ I shouted.
Robbie and I jerked her up in the air. Maudie gave a great wail of despair because we’d jerked the ice cream right out of her cone. It fell on the grass and Maudie kicked and struggled to get back down on the grass too so that she could try to scoop it up.
‘No, Maudie! Look, have my ice cream,’ I said – but mine didn’t have sprinkles and sauce and two flakes, and Maudie sobbed bitterly.
We’d made such a spectacle of ourselves now, with people running underneath us and screaming and pointing and take photos of us on their mobiles, that we didn’t like to land in a different part of the park to have our lunch. We did our best to eat it while we were still airborne. It was just about possible, Smash flying between us and handing out food and drink at intervals, but it was like trying to eat a three-course meal while running. We all ended up with hiccups. Maudie only had a lick of chocolate and a sip of juice. She was still sobbing softly for the loss of her ice cream. Then she started rubbing her eyes and trying to suck her thumb, clearly tired out and in need of a nap.
We were flying above another town now, with no suitable place to land, so we had to take it in turns to hold Maudie and steer her along while she slept. We were all getting pretty tired again too, though we livened up a little when we flew along a big river. We copied the swans, flying in a bunch, and then swooping down, scraping our toes in the water, flapping hard to stop ourselves sinking.
There were too many boats on the river, though. People kept shouting and staring up at us. Smash played up to the crowd, flying right down to wave to the people on a big pleasure boat. They waved back at her foolishly, looking astounded.
‘Smash, stop making such a show of yourself,’ I begged.
‘Why not? It’s fun!’ she said.
‘Yes, but what if someone calls the police or the newspapers or a television crew?’ I said.
‘That would be brilliant! They’d never be able to catch us,’ said Smash.
‘They might.’
‘You think they’ll suddenly produce giant butterfly nets or something?’ said Smash.
‘The police have got helicopters. They could chase after us in the air.’
‘And then what are they going to do? I bet there’s no law that says you’re not allowed to fly,’ said Smash. ‘Stop being such an old spoilsport, Rosalind. Come on!’
‘Where are we going now? Haven’t we flown far enough?’ Robbie gasped. He was taking his turn to carry Maudie, but it was a real struggle for him.
‘Look, give Maudie back to me,’ said Smash. ‘There now. Come on, Maudie, it’s time you woke up. You don’t want to miss all this lovely flying, do you?’
‘Ice cream,’ Maudie mumbled, but she rubbed her eyes, flapped her wings hard, and started flying along under her own steam.
‘That’s my girl,’ Smash encouraged her. ‘We’re going to London now. We’re going to fly up to Buckingham Palace and peep in the windows and see if we can spot the Queen.’
‘No, we’re not! London’s miles and miles and miles away – and how on earth would we find our way there anyway?’ I said.
‘Easy-peasy. We just carry on flying upriver,’ said Smash. ‘The Thames goes right through London, doesn’t it, so we just follow it.’
‘But it will take ages and we’re tired out already,’ Robbie complained.
‘You’re tired. I’m fine. I’m having the best time in the world,’ said Smash. ‘Come on, please.’
‘Smash, listen. It’ll take all afternoon to get to London, maybe even longer. Then what are you going to do when our wings disappear at sunset? Dad and Alice will go spare if they snap out of the spell and we’re missing for hours all over again.’
‘Who cares?’ said Smash. ‘This is the one day in my whole life that I can fly and I’m jolly well going to make the most of it.’
She flew on determinedly while we hovered in the air, not knowing what to do.
‘I want to go home,’ said Robbie.
‘I do too, but we can’t just leave her,’ I said.
‘Why not? Look, she’s left us,’ said Robbie.
Smash was already a tiny little bird shape in the distance. She was circling a tower block, peering in the penthouse windows, doubtless pulling faces – and then suddenly she was gone.
‘Smash? Smash, what’s happened? Where are you?’ I shouted, though she was much too far away to hear me.
‘Can you see where Smash is?’ I said urgently.
‘Over there, somewhere,’ said Robbie, pointing vaguely.
‘Yes, but where?’
‘I can’t quite see her at the moment.’
‘Maudie, can you see Smash-Smash?’
‘Smash-Smash?’ said Maudie.
‘She was way over there, by those big flats, peeping in the windows. Then she just vanished!’ I said.
‘Well, she’ll have flown further on,’ said Robbie.
‘No, I was watching. I’m sure she didn’t. Come on, we’ve got to find her,’ I said. ‘And all keep together, okay?’
We flew in a little V-formation towards the tower block: me first, then Robbie to the left of me, Maudie to the right. I kept hoping I was wrong, that I’d somehow taken my eye off Smash and that she was simply way ahead of us – but though I scanned the horizon I couldn’t spot her. I looked anxiously downwards too, remembering how she’d suddenly plummeted when she’d flown too high. There was no sign of her, but if she’d fallen into the river the weight of her wings might have sucked her under straight away.
‘Oh, Smash, please be all right!’ I whispered, flying frantically. I mostly thought my stepsister maddening, but I found I loved her too. I couldn’t bear the thought that something had happened to her.
We were getting near the tower block now. I flew towards the penthouse. There was a little rooftop garden with a lounge deckchair, and a drink on the fancy marble table. There was no one there – but when I got really close up I saw red feathers scattered across the concrete paving.
‘Smash! Smash, where are you?’ I yelled.
‘Here! Here, but be careful. This lunatic’s tied me up!’ Smash screamed from somewhere inside.
‘Robbie, keep Maudie safe, whatever you do,’ I said.
‘No, no, you keep her. I’ll rescue Smash. I’m the boy,’ said Robbie, struggling to get hold of me.
Maudie took no notice of either of us. She flew ahead and landed lightly on the tips of her toes and ran right through the open glass door of the penthouse flat. We charged after her, not folding our wings quickly enough, so that we jostled each other, briefly entwined.
‘Smash-Smash!’ Maudie cried.
I hurtled forward in a flurry of feathers. Smash was tethered to a table leg by a dressing-gown cord, about to throw a huge glass vase at a man cowering in a corner.
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