Brigid Lucy Needs A Best Friend

by Leonie Norrington

  Little Hare Books

  an imprint of

  Hardie Grant Egmont

  85 High Street

  Prahran, Victoria 3181, Australia

  www.littleharebooks.com

  Text copyright © Leonie Norrington 2013

  Illustrations copyright © Tamsin Ainslie 2013

  First published 2013

  Published in this edition 2013

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Cataloguing-in-Publication details are available from the National Library of Australia

  ISBN 978 1 743580 21 9 (epub)

  Cover design by Vida & Luke Kelly

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Prologue

  Chapter one: pirates and pigsties

  Chapter two: wizards in trouble

  Chapter three: manners and niceness

  Chapter four: Dad does it wrong

  Chapter five: splendiferous bubbles

  Chapter six: tragic consequences

  Chapter seven: a friendship spell

  Chapter eight: Diligamus nos salutat

  Chapter nine: a worried anxious night

  Chapter ten: then a miracle happens

  Epilogue

  Magical creatures

  Magical swearwords

  Magical spell words

  To Josephine Marie Izod, who inspired the character Matilda—LN

  For my brother, Luther, who was always my best friend when I needed one—TA

  Prologue

  Hello. You’re a reader, aren’t you? Do you know who I am? I’m the Brigid Lucy storyteller person thing. I tell all the stories about me and my best friend, Biddy.

  Am I an imp?

  No way! Of course I’m not an imp.

  If I was an imp I would look like this…

  But I don’t. Slip sloppy Goolag. I would never want to have fluffy wings or long toenails.

  If I was to look like anything, I would look like this…

  Now let me tell you the story…

  How did me and Biddy become best friends?

  Biddy used to live on a farm and I lived in the Great Bushland that spread out way beyond infinity all around the farm. One day, I was playing in a gum tree when I heard a loud sob. I got such a fright, slipped and tripped and plonk! I landed in Biddy’s hair. She was crying, ‘I’m not going away,’ she sobbed. ‘I’ll never find a friend in the city.’

  ‘Do you want a friend?’ I said running out to the end of her nose. ‘I do too. I’ve wanted a friend for a million years. Can I come to the city and be your friend?’

  But she ignored me and kept on crying. That’s when I realised that she couldn’t see me or hear me. So I climbed into her hair and became her ‘best friend’ all by myself.

  And we’ve had the most exciting adventures. One time we went to a pet shop and I flew on a parrot. Another time we went into a princess tower. An evil wizard had turned a princess into a huge copper bell and locked her up. We helped her escape.

  I totally love being Biddy’s best friend.

  But Biddy doesn’t like being my friend. She wants a human best friend. One who is popular. (Popular is like if you have a new car, or a pony like Annabelle, or do ballet with soft shoes and glitter like Sascha.) When Biddy first came to the city, she tried to get a friend at school. But Annabelle was Vanessa’s best friend, Sascha was Padula’s best friend. And Molly and Alice had each other. There were no friends left for Biddy. So Biddy made a plan to find a friend outside of school, during the holidays.

  But Biddy’s mum is ‘expecting-again’ (which is like getting really fat). So she doesn’t want to go out. All she ever does is cleaning and washing and cooking. And looking after Biddy’s little sisters Miss Getting-All-The-Attention Matilda and Crybaby Ellen.

  I don’t care. I love staying home and playing imagination games. But Biddy says, ‘I’ll never find a best friend if I stay home the whole of the school holidays.’

  ‘Biddy, darling,’ Mum says, ‘I said we could go to the Botanic Gardens on Friday. Dad is taking the day off to come with us.’

  Me and Biddy love the Botanic Gardens. It is the most magical enchanted place in the whole city. But Friday is nearly a year away.

  So Biddy says, ‘Can’t we go today?’ And when Mum says ‘no’ Biddy yells, ‘You don’t care if I never get a friend.’ And she bursts into tears. ‘You are the meanest, horriblest mother in the world.’

  Mum says, ‘Brigid-Lucy-don’t-be-rude!’ And, ‘You-need-time-out.’ And, ‘Go-and-sitquietly-in-your-room-for-ten-minutes.’

  ‘How can I find a friend in a locked-up bedroom prison?’ Biddy yells, and throws herself on her bed. ‘I wouldn’t be rude if you let me get a best friend.’ Then she puts her face in the pillow. ‘I will never find a friend, never ever.’

  I do feel sorry for Biddy. But I don’t want her to get a human friend. What if she gets one that hates imagination games like Jamie next door? Or hates reading like Annabelle? Or says, ‘No you can’t play with us,’ or, ‘You’re not my friend anymore’ stuff, like Bree?

  ‘Come on Biddy,’ I say, ‘forget about best friends. Let’s play pirates with ships full of treasure. Let’s fight fabulous sea monsters with whiskers like octopus tentacles and nineteen different coloured legs.’

  But she ignores me and sucks her thumb.

  ‘Fine,’ I say stomping back into her hair.

  ‘Be boring, then. I don’t want to be your friend when you do boring sucking thumb stuff.’

  So that’s the problem. (You know how all stories have a problem? Well that is the problem for this story.) Biddy wants to find a silly human friend and I want her to play with me––her already best friend.

  Shall I tell you that story? Okay. Wait— I have to start it properly… I’ll just stand up here on the top of Biddy’s head like a real storyteller.

  Are you listening?

  ‘Long ago, before the dawn of time…’

  No, I can’t say that because it is happening right now…

  ‘One day,’ I start again, ‘there was a little girl called Biddy. Her evil parents had locked her in a bedroom prison. Biddy was so sad. But her invisible friend (that’s me)…’

  ‘Am I boring?’ Biddy interrupts. ‘Is that why I haven’t got a best friend?’

  ‘Shh, Biddy,’ I say. ‘I’m telling a story.’

  ‘If I was a pirate I wouldn’t be boring,’ Biddy says, jumping off her bed.

  ‘Biddy, stay still,’ I yell. But it’s too late. She is running and I’m slipping. I grab a handful of hair and swing out behind her. ‘Wait,’ I yell. ‘You are getting into the story without me.’

  Chapter one

  pirates and pigsties

  ‘I need a pirate costume,’ Biddy says, tipping over her toy box and rummaging through the toys. ‘Ah-ha! My dagger!’ She spins around with her dagger in her hand, threatening all the other pirates on the pirate ship. ‘Now, where is my pirate hat?’

  ‘Craaark!’ I yell. A pirate’s best friend is a parrot. So I’m on Biddy’s shoulder being her best pirate parrot friend.

  ‘Ahh-ha!’ Biddy snarls. She runs to her cupboard, pulls out a drawer and grabs a hat. It is white with pink flowers. It is not very piratey.

  ‘Nah!’ Biddy says, throwing the hat over her shoulder.

  She pulls out a green cap. ‘Nah!’

  An orange one. ‘Nah!’

  Finally she pulls out the drawer and tips it upside down.


  ‘Craaark! That one!’ I say, pointing with my beak to a purple sun hat.

  She puts it on, turns up the edges and runs to her mirror. ‘That’s better,’ Biddy says. ‘Now I need a one-eye.’ She grabs a headband and wraps it around her head so it covers one eye.

  ‘Aarrr!’ she growls into the mirror, holding her dagger up like a fierce pirate. She looks a tiny bit like a pirate.

  ‘I am the Captain Brigitte Loos,’ she yells into the mirror. ‘The fiercest captain on all of the vast oceans. My best friend is Princess Isolde who lives in a castle on the sheer black cliffs of Bittangabee Bay.

  ‘I have killed the giant sea dragon and stolen his treasure.’ Biddy walks to her new bunk beds. ‘I am taking the treasure in my ship to my friend Princess Isolde.’ She climbs to the top bunk, pulls out her imaginary telescope and looks out to the horizon.

  ‘Land ahoy!’ I yell in a pirate parrot voice, pointing out the window with my wing.

  ‘Land ahoy!’ Biddy yells. ‘All hands on deck!’ she tells her pirate crew.

  ‘See, Biddy,’ I say. ‘We don’t need a silly human friend.’

  Suddenly the door opens. ‘What is all this noise about?’ Mum asks.

  ‘No!’ I yell. ‘Don’t interrupt us now. This is the first fun we’ve had all year.’

  Mum looks into Biddy’s room. She sees the clothes flung about, the drawers upside down, the toys and games all over the floor. ‘Brigid Lucy,’ she says. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Biddy’s naughty, hey, Mum?’ Miss Getting-All-The-Attention Matilda says. ‘I am not,’ Biddy says. ‘I was just practising to be a best friend pirate.’

  ‘Brigid, I asked you to play quietly and look what you have done,’ Mum says. ‘This room is a pigsty.’

  ‘It is not a pigsty,’ Biddy says. ‘Pigsties have mud, pigs and…’ and for a moment she can’t think what else pigsties have. Then she remembers, ‘… and they have lots of stinky, pooie piggy smells.’

  ‘Stop-arguing,’ Mum says. And, ‘Clean-up-this-room.’ She tries to bend down to pick up a toy but her belly is too fat. So she puts Ellen on the floor and sits down to pick up the toys and put them in the toy box.

  ‘Mum,’ Biddy says, jumping down from the top bunk. ‘You’re ruining my games.’ She holds Mum’s hand. ‘Everything is perfect. This is the palace garden. Those are the cliffs of Bittangabee Bay. I am a best friend pirate.’

  ‘Biddy, darling,’ Mum says, ‘when you finish a game you have to put your toys away.’

  ‘But I’m not finished,’ Biddy says. ‘None of these games are finished.’

  ‘A game is finished when you stop playing,’ Mum says.

  Which is totally ridiculous. Games are like stories. They are never finished. But Mum doesn’t care. She changes the subject.

  ‘You can’t have a friend stay over if your room is messy,’ she says.

  ‘A friend stay over?’ Biddy says, her eyes bright with excitement. ‘Could I really have a friend stay over?’

  ‘Of course you can, darling,’ Mum says.

  ‘Biddy, don’t listen to her,’ I say. ‘You can’t have a friend stay over if you don’t even have a friend.’

  But Biddy ignores me and helps Mum pick up the toys and tidy the room.

  ‘Look, Mum, I’m good helping,’ Matilda says picking up Biddy’s magic silver wand.

  ‘Matilda, you are not allowed to play with my special things,’ Biddy says, trying to take the wand off her.

  ‘I am so,’ Matilda screams, snatching the wand behind her back. ‘I’m allowed to help! Hey, Mum!?’ really loud.

  This makes little Ellen start to cry.

  Even though Ellen can walk and doesn’t need a nappy, she still cries all the time.

  Mum cuddles little Ellen and says, ‘Shhh, shhh,’ while she picks up the rest of the toys. Then she stands up and says, ‘Come on, Matilda, time for a rest.’

  ‘I’m not tired,’ Matilda yells.

  Mum picks up Matilda in her spare arm and tells Biddy, ‘You are to play quietly in your room. You can read. You can have a rest. But you are not to pull your toys out and mess this room up again. Do you understand?’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mum,’ Biddy says, ‘I’m keeping my room spotless for my best friend girlfriend to come over.’

  ‘Good girl,’ Mum says and walks out.

  We can hear Matilda yelling, ‘I’m not even tired.’ And, ‘I’m a big girl,’ all the way down the hall.

  Biddy lies down on her bed and smiles around her sucking thumb. ‘I’m going to have a best friend stay over,’ she whispers.

  ‘Come on, Biddy. Let’s do something,’ I say. ‘Let’s… Let’s…’ I look around. Up on the shelf is a crystal ball. It used to be a goldfish bowl, but the goldfish ate too much and got sick. It is round and glass just like a crystal ball. I run onto Biddy’s sucking thumb and tell her, ‘Let’s play with the crystal ball. You can be a wicked wizard looking into the future.’

  Chapter two

  wizards in trouble

  Biddy’s eyes look straight past me to the goldfish bowl. ‘What a splendiferous idea,’ she says jumping up. She gets the goldfish bowl down and puts it on the floor.

  ‘I will look into the future and find my best girlfriend in this magic crystal ball.’

  She gets her torch, a bottle of glitter and her magic silver wand. Then she pulls the sheet off her bed to make a cape and closes the curtains so no sunlight gets through. Her bedroom is as dark as a scoriak cave.

  Scoriaks come from the Great Bushland where I come from. They are older than the earth and they know magical Incantation Songs that can turn you into a piece of infinity.

  But this is not a real scoriak’s cave. So I am not scared. Not one little bit.

  I stand on Biddy’s shoulder. She sits down beside the crystal ball and puts the torch in her lap so it shines up under her chin. The light makes her face go old and wrinkly. She waves her silver wand above the bowl, then drops glitter to sparkle like lights of electricity above the crystal ball.

  ‘Brigid Lucy,’ Biddy says, glaring into the bowl with her eyes big and round, ‘you are a princess with long hair and ribbons on her shoes.’

  She closes her eyes and shakes her head, then opens them again. ‘I can see Princess Brigid at the Botanic Gardens,’ she says in her wizard’s voice. ‘I can see Princess Brigid throwing her frisbee through the air,’ she pauses. ‘Then out from the trees comes another princess on a white horse. Her name is Isolde. She gallops up and catches Brigid’s frisbee. Then she throws it back to Princess Brigid and they become best friends forever.’

  ‘An imaginary princess friend?’ I say. ‘That’s a great idea, Biddy. Imaginary friends are the best. They are never boring or horrible.’

  There’s a knock at the door. ‘Diddy?’ a voice calls.

  It’s Matilda.

  ‘What you doing?’ she says and opens the door, letting light into the room and blink! the magic crystal ball turns into a boring old fish bowl.

  ‘Now look what you’ve done, Matilda,’ I yell. But she can’t hear me so she just says, ‘Diddy, can I play?’

  ‘Matilda, go back to Mum,’ Biddy says.

  ‘Mum’s asleep,’ Matilda says.

  It used to be that, in the afternoon, Mum would put Matilda and little Ellen to sleep then do ‘quality time’ stuff with me and Biddy. We’d do cooking and painting and talking. But now Mum is ‘too-tired’. She lies down ‘for a rest’ too. Sometimes she stays there till Matilda and Ellen wake up. And now she’s asleep when Matilda is awake!

  The rule is that Little-kids-are-not-allowed-to-be-up-by-themselves-because-what-if-the-house-catches-on-fire. But sometimes Mum does ask Biddy to play with Matilda. And Biddy doesn’t have a friend to play wizards with, and playing with a little sister might be better than with no one at all.

  So Biddy lets Matilda come in. ‘We will pretend that you are my best friend,’ she says. ‘Your name is Isolde and you ride a beautiful white horse.’

 
‘But I can’t ride a horse,’ Matilda says.

  ‘Then you can have a silver Siamese cat with blue eyes,’ Biddy says.

  ‘Okay,’ Matilda says. She sits down, picks up her imaginary Siamese cat and starts to stroke it.

  Biddy closes the door. The room is dead dark again.

  ‘Biddy, I can’t see,’ Matilda says her voice quavering.

  Biddy turns the torch on. It hits the goldfish bowl and turns it into a crystal ball again.

  Slivers of light rush across the room and shadows flicker on the walls. They look like nefariouses dancing. Nefariouses come from the Great Bushland. They are beautiful ancient creatures that dance in the shadows and hate noisy children.

  ‘I’m the Wizard Merlin,’ Biddy says in a croaky wizard voice. ‘You have come to ask my advice,’ she tells Matilda. ‘Now, ask me a question.’

  Matilda sits up straight and keeps her mouth closed like a big girl.

  ‘Will I tell you your future?’ Biddy asks.

  Matilda nods.

  Biddy puts the torch under her chin. Her face goes old and wrinkly again. She waves her wand over the crystal ball, rolls her eyes back and sings, ‘Garrlim. Gooolim. Ambidextrous. Pyrotechnics.’

  When Matilda sees Biddy’s eyes disappear, her eyes get bigger and bigger. But she doesn’t cry. She cuddles her imaginary cat and acts as brave as she can.

  ‘Crystal ball,’ Biddy says in her croaky wizard’s voice, ‘what does the future hold for Isolde?’

  Biddy listens while the crystal ball tells her all its secrets.

  Then she takes the torch away and tells Matilda, ‘You’re going to be a mummy.’

  Matilda is so relieved to see Biddy’s normal face again she smiles. ‘Can I be the Easter Bunny?’

  ‘Not a bunny, silly,’ Biddy says. ‘A Mummy like Mum. You can’t be the Easter Bunny because he’s not real life.’

  ‘The Easter Bunny is so real,’ Matilda says her face creasing up.

  ‘He is not,’ Biddy says. ‘The only things that are real are the tooth fairies and dragons and fairies and ghosts.’