by Natasha Lowe
A folded letter lay on top of some scrunched up tissue paper. The letter was yellow with age, and when Lucy opened it up, the paper crackled like a dry winter leaf. “December fifteenth, 1912,” Lucy whispered, which meant it had been written over a hundred years ago. Dearest Clara, she read.
Father and I send you our warmest regards and hope you are feeling better. I know boarding school is a big change and you have been missing home and feeling sad, but it is only a few more weeks until the Christmas holidays. We will be seeing you very soon.
Lucy’s hands started to tremble, as if the letter had been written just for her. She knew exactly how poor Clara must have felt, whoever Clara was. Taking a deep breath, Lucy read on.
Cook has promised to make a chicken pie on your first night back, which I hope will be something nice for you to think about.
I am sending you this little gift to remind you of your family and happy times. Do you remember the robin that made a nest in our pear tree? Well, I believe those naughty dogs from next door scared off poor mama bird, because we caught them barking and barking around the tree and she never came back to her eggs after that. We waited and waited, but there was no sign of her. Since it is such a pretty thing, Papa felt sure that you would enjoy having the nest at school. It was going to be a Christmas present, wrapped up under the tree, but we decided you were in need of a treat now. So here it is, darling Clara, and when you look at it you can remember your home and your family who love you very much and cannot wait to see you again.
From your ever devoted Mama and Papa
Very gently, Lucy lifted back the tissue paper to see what was underneath, and there, snuggled in the cookie tin, was a little robin’s nest with three tiny blue eggs inside. “Oh, thank you,” Lucy whispered, as if the gift had been meant just for her. “Thank you so much. I do feel better.”
This was all the proof she needed. Magic did exist, and Lucy sat quite still, holding the tin on her lap as a warm buzz of happiness spread through her. When the door opened and Chloe walked in, Lucy still didn’t move, not wanting to break the spell, scared that it might all vanish and she’d be left holding nothing.
Chloe bent over the table in her brown velvet cloak and picked up the piece of lace. She was wearing pink fingerless gloves that matched her pink hair and her pink, glittery nails. “Oh, I love this! An old tablecloth!” Chloe said, shaking it out. She looked up and gave a start, putting a hand to her chest. “Lucy! You scared the pants off me. What on earth are you doing here?”
“Look what I found,” Lucy whispered, tilting the tin toward Chloe so she could see the nest. “This is magic, Chloe. And you have to read the letter that came with it. It’s addressed to a girl called Clara, but I’m quite sure it’s meant for me.”
“Magic?” Chloe said, sitting down beside Lucy. She smelled of mothballs and spicy perfume. Carefully picking up the letter, Chloe began to read. When she had finished, she bent over the nest, lightly touching one of the robin’s eggs with her finger.
“It has to be magic, don’t you think?” Lucy said, studying Chloe’s face and needing to hear her reply.
“Absolutely,” Chloe agreed. “Remember what I told you? You just have to know where to look. Somehow this letter was meant to end up in your hands, Lucy. I do believe that.”
“And it’s working. I don’t feel so sad about running away.”
“Wait!” Chloe held up a hand. “You ran away?”
“My parents don’t want me,” Lucy said, although she didn’t actually believe this anymore. “It was their idea to leave me at the Put and Take. So I came here to find a new home.”
Chloe stared at Lucy and then she started laughing. “Oh, Lucy, you are funny.”
“I don’t see anything funny about my situation,” Lucy said, remembering how upset she had felt. “There is nothing funny about not being wanted.”
“But you don’t really believe that. I know you don’t. Your parents adore you.”
“Well, I heard them say it with my own ears,” Lucy told her. “There was no mistake.”
“Whenever I used to run away, it was because I wanted attention,” Chloe said gently. Not looking at Chloe, Lucy folded up the letter and placed it on top of the nest. She did want some attention. It felt as if she hadn’t had any for a very long time. “Come on, Lucy, I’ll take you home,” Chloe said. She draped the lace tablecloth over her shoulder and held out her hand.
Lucy shook her head. “I think Clara’s parents understand how I feel much better than my own parents,” she whispered, taking the sock off her leg and wincing. “If they want me, they can come and get me.” The cut was still dripping blood, and Lucy pressed the sticky sock back against it.
“Oh, that’s nasty. What on earth did you do?”
“I cut it on the file cabinet,” Lucy said with a wince. “And it really hurts.”
“I bet it does.” Chloe’s voice softened. “You poor little thing.”
“I’ve probably lost quite a bit of blood.”
“You do need to get it cleaned. If there’s rust in there, it could get infected.”
“But I’m not ready to go home. I doubt I’ve even been missed yet.”
“Then you can come back to my house,” Chloe said rather firmly. “We’ll clean you up there.” She gave Lucy a serious look. “You do not want to get blood poisoning.”
No, she did not, and Lucy leapt right up. She had read about blood poisoning in The Book of Strange Facts. If you didn’t clean your wounds properly, you could end up with gangrene, and then you might have to get your limbs chopped off.
CHLOE’S PINK-GLOVED HAND WAS WARM and soft and extremely nice to hold. In Lucy’s other hand she carried the nest tin. As they crossed Main Street, Lucy saw Ella, May, Summer, and Molly heading off to dance practice in their matching fur trimmed boots. Under their open jackets they all wore pale blue sweatshirts with SUNSHINE STUDIO printed on the front, and had silver drawstring bags slung over their shoulders. Lucy noticed them glance over and then whisper to one another. Probably wondering what she was doing with weird Chloe, Lucy guessed. But she didn’t care what they thought, and she didn’t let go of Chloe’s hand either.
“I’ll call your parents first thing and tell them where you are,” Chloe said, her velvet cape brushing against Lucy. “We don’t want them to worry.”
“Well, they can worry for a bit,” Lucy said. “I’m okay with that.”
In all the months Chloe had been working for the Castors, Lucy realized she had never been inside Chloe’s house. She felt a little anxious, remembering the shouting she used to hear before Chloe’s parents got divorced, but as soon as they walked in, Lucy relaxed. Chloe’s mom was cooking in the kitchen, and there were laundry and books and the sort of usual clutter scattered everywhere that made a house feel like a home. The best part though was that there were no high chairs waiting to be assembled or bags of baby clothes waiting to be unpacked or plastic baby toys taking up all the floor space.
“Sit down,” Chloe said, taking Lucy into the living room. “I’ll phone your mom and dad and then we’ll get that leg cleaned up.” Chloe disappeared into the hallway, and Lucy sat on a sofa, enjoying having it all to herself. There was a lovely smell of frying onions coming from the kitchen. It made Lucy’s stomach rumble, and she wondered what Chloe was having for her dinner.
“They’ll be here shortly,” Chloe said, coming back carrying a red first aid box. “I told them ten minutes, so that should give them enough time to miss you!” Chloe was smiling, and Lucy suddenly wanted to leave now. The onion smell was making her homesick, and she hoped her parents hadn’t really been worrying. “Okay, let’s get that cut washed,” Chloe said, opening the first aid box. With swift, efficient strokes she cleaned Lucy’s leg, doused it with antibiotic lotion, and put on an extra-wide, heavy-duty Band-Aid.
“What are you going to do with that tablecloth you took?” Lucy asked, trying not to squirm even though her cut stung.
“I’m going to mak
e it into a shirt,” Chloe said. “That’s vintage lace someone’s throwing out. It’ll be beautiful once I’ve bleached it. I’ll show you some of my designs if you like. I’ve got a whole book of them.”
Lucy nodded politely. She did want to see some of Chloe’s designs, but not right now. Right now it was time to go home. She had been gone long enough. Just then there was a knock at the door.
It was so nice to see her mother that Lucy almost forgot to be mad at her. But when Mrs. Castor gave Lucy a hug, it felt as if the babies were pushing her away. She couldn’t get close to her mother because of her enormous belly. Mrs. Castor thanked Chloe for bringing Lucy back, and then taking her by the hand she led her daughter home.
Aunty Karen was in the kitchen making tea, and Lucy’s dad was marking history tests at the table. The house smelled of lemon cake, which was even better than frying onions, but Lucy felt suddenly shy, remembering the conversation she had overhead between her mother and Aunty Karen. She stood in the doorway, clutching her cookie tin.
“What’s in that beautiful box?” Mr. Castor asked, smiling up at Lucy. And then, in his quiet, serious voice he added, “We were worried about you, Lucy.” He slid his fingers under his glasses and rubbed at his eyes.
“Oh, Dad, look what I found at the Put and Take,” Lucy said, a gush of relief washing over her. This was her home and she had been missed. Just like Clara. She pried the lid off the cookie tin and handed her father the letter. “You can read it out loud, but please be careful. It’s extremely old.”
Lucy’s parents and Aunty Karen were just as stunned as Lucy by the beautiful antique nest and the letter to Clara.
“What a special treasure for your collection,” her father said. “And the eggs are in perfect condition. I’m surprised they haven’t cracked.”
“Clara obviously took great care of them,” Lucy remarked. “Perhaps she collected nests like me.” She gave a small, dramatic sigh. “I think we have a lot in common.”
“Now, Lucy, what’s all this about?” her mother asked gently. “Why on earth did you run off like that?”
“Because I heard what you said. I heard everything,” Lucy told them, her anxiety returning. “All about not wanting me anymore because I’m an old model and how you were going to leave me at the Put and Take.”
Mrs. Castor looked puzzled for a moment. “Wherever did you get that idea from?” And then she started smiling. “Oh, Lucy, we were talking about Matilda. Your old baby carriage! We’re not going to need her anymore because Aunty Karen is giving us a lovely new double stroller. You didn’t really think we’d leave you at the Put and Take, did you?” Lucy could tell Aunty Karen was trying not to laugh.
“Well, I have been extremely ignored lately,” Lucy replied dramatically. “All you ever talk about are the babies. Even Aunty Karen seems more excited to see your belly than she is to see me. So yes, actually, it did seem very possible.”
“Then we shall have to rectify that immediately,” Mr. Castor said, “and have two chapters of The Hobbit later on.”
“And you get the first slice of lemon cake,” Aunty Karen said, putting a plate down in front of Lucy.
“And I’ll make you some chocolate milk,” Mrs. Castor offered, dropping a kiss on Lucy’s head.
“Might I have a little more cake, please?” Lucy asked, enjoying all the lovely attention.
“Absolutely, Lucy,” Aunty Karen said.
“And could you pass me my Book of Strange Facts to look at, please?”
“At your service, Lucy,” her mother replied, waddling over with the book.
“And since we’re on the subject of doing nice things for Lucy,” Lucy said. “A new red ten-speed bike would be most appreciated.”
“Right, and I’d like a new car and your mom wants a new laptop,” Mr. Castor said.
“Well, it was worth a try,” Lucy said with a grin.
When Lucy’s parents came to tuck her in that night, they spent a long time admiring Clara’s nest again. Lucy had placed it in the center of her shelf, and it was definitely her new favorite. Mr. and Mrs. Castor were now perched on either side of Lucy’s bed, peering down at her with rather anxious faces.
“You have to be honest with us, Lucy,” her mother said. “We want to know how you’re feeling.”
No, you don’t, Lucy thought. You don’t at all. She wondered if Clara had had any brothers and sisters. Maybe that’s why her parents had sent her away to school, because of a new baby arriving.
“Life has been a little crazy around here lately,” her father said. “Getting ready for the twins.”
“And you are a bit excited, aren’t you?” her mother asked. Lucy could see the crocodiles squirming about in her mom’s belly. It seemed to Lucy as if they were thrashing each other with their tails. Her father was looking at her hopefully, and Lucy forced herself to smile.
“Of course I am,” she replied, certain that her parents would never forgive her if they knew how she really felt inside.
AT SCHOOL THE NEXT DAY Thomas looked extremely relieved to see Lucy. “So you didn’t run away for long, then?” he said, fiddling with something in his pockets.
“Long enough,” Lucy told him, narrowing her eyes. “And I’m not sure I believe everything you’ve told me about your cousin Adam.”
“You shouldn’t believe anything Thomas tells you,” Rachel said, linking her arm through Lucy’s.
Ms. Fisher was late coming to class, and Ella, Summer, Molly, and May gathered around Lucy’s desk while they waited. “So what were you doing with that weird Chloe girl yesterday?” Summer asked.
“Yes, you were holding her hand!” May added, making a face.
“She’s actually really nice,” Lucy said. “I like her.”
“She’s been arrested by the police,” Ella exclaimed. “My mom calls her a ‘bad influence.’ ”
“Well, she’s not. I was wrong about her,” Lucy said.
“So do you know what she did?” Ella whispered. “Was it really awful?”
“Why don’t you ask her?” Lucy said. “I’m sure she’d tell you.”
“There is no way I’m talking to weird Chloe!” Ella replied as Ms. Fisher walked into the room.
“I don’t really feel like eating in the cafeteria,” Lucy said to Rachel as the girls dug their lunch boxes out of their backpacks after music class. “It’s too noisy and full of people.” The truth was Lucy didn’t feel like sitting with Ella and the sparkle girls. They would pepper her with questions about Chloe, and the babies, and Lucy wasn’t up for answering any of them today.
“Let’s go back to the music room,” Rachel said. “I’m sure Ms. Larkin won’t mind. When I first came here I used to eat in the music room sometimes. I didn’t know anybody and the cafeteria made me so nervous. I’d pretend I wanted to practice my accordion.” Rachel smiled and took Lucy’s arm. “Come on. I promise you, Ms. Larkin won’t mind.”
“Make sure you tidy up when you leave,” Ms. Larkin said to the girls. “And try not to drop crumbs on the carpet.”
The room was small and quiet and exactly where Lucy felt like eating. It was fun to eat lunch surrounded by trombones and drum sets and music stands. Lucy munched on a ham sandwich while Rachel ate noodles out of a thermos. That was the best thing about Rachel, Lucy thought. You could sit in comfortable silence with her and it never felt strained.
“Am I a bad person, do you think?” Lucy asked softly, opening up a vanilla yogurt and being extra careful not to drip on the floor. “Because I’m not looking forward to these babies coming.”
“You’re not a bad person at all,” Rachel said. “I bet a lot of kids feel that way. I know I wouldn’t really want my mom to have any more babies,” she admitted. “One brother is quite enough. You can’t help the way you feel, Lucy. But once the twins are here, it will be different.”
“I really hope so,” Lucy said with a sigh, wishing she felt as sure about this as Rachel did.
“Hey, I know what will cheer yo
u up.” Rachel jumped to her feet. “I’ll play you the polka tune I’m learning.”
“Oh, Rachel, you really don’t have to do that,” Lucy said, but Rachel was already bounding over to her accordion case that was leaning against the wall.
“I want to. You’ll love it. It’s a happy song. And you’ll be amazed by how much I’ve improved,” Rachel added. She snapped open the case and took out her great-grandpa’s accordion. The keys had yellowed with age, the engraving on the front was scratched, and there were chips in the black lacquered paint. It had clearly seen a lot of use over the years. “I don’t know what this is called in Hungarian but in English Ms. Larkin says it means ‘Run for the Hills.’ ”
Rachel started to play, pushing the bellows part in and out and pressing the keys at the same time. Her whole body was moving as if she couldn’t keep still, and Lucy almost choked on her yogurt, staring in wonder as Rachel squeezed out a wheezing, off-key noise that sounded more like a stampede of mooing cows than a rousing polka. But at least these cows were mooing and not dying, like the last time Lucy had heard this particular tune. There was definitely a glimmer of improvement, and even though Lucy understood why it was called “Run for the Hills,” she couldn’t help smiling to see Rachel playing with such enthusiasm.
“Ms. Larkin says I’m really getting the hang of it,” Rachel panted, finally coming to a stop. Her face was flushed as she looked at Lucy. “You feel better. I can tell.”
“I do. I really do. That was”—Lucy’s smile got broader as she searched for the right word—“that was unbelievable, Rachel! And I could hear a difference. I really could.”
“Seriously?” Rachel started to laugh which made Lucy join in. “Because I never said anything, but a few weeks ago I was beginning to think I might quit.”