The Story Traveller

by Judy Stubley

  During lunch break Lucy tried to talk to Peter about Anna but he wasn’t into deep reflective thought.

  ‘Supercilious1 madam – forget her.’

  But Lucy couldn’t. She remembered Cinderella had said she felt sorry for her stepsisters, because they hadn’t really been loved. Lucy wondered what it was that made such a bright attractive girl feel so insecure, that she had to be so unpleasant.

  In class, both Lucy and Anna did well. Anna was far better at languages, while Lucy was just ahead in maths. They could have been friendly rivals. It puzzled Lucy. She could cope with Anna ignoring her, but to set out to make her life miserable; there had to be a reason. Later that afternoon they had a French lesson. Mme Lessens asked if any of the class had been to France during the holidays. About half put up their hands. She then got these pupils to talk for a few minutes about their trip, while the others could ask questions. Anna spoke fluently about a visit to Paris and the Palace of Versailles. Her accent was excellent, as she and her English mother and Russian father travelled widely, and had lived in France for a while. Eventually it was Lucy’s time to contribute. At once she was back with Speed, as she dipped into her memory. Should she talk about Nîmes, Saintes or Rheims? Suddenly, she found herself describing the Triumphal Arch of Germanicus and the bridge near Blois. To her amazement her French came quite easily and almost fluently. When she’d finished, Mme Lessens gave her a very old fashioned look.

  ‘Lucy, what an improvement in your accent, though some of the words you used are a little archaic. Well done!’ Lucy went pink with pleasure, while Anna glowered and bit her lip in anger.

  ‘Just one small point: you described the Triumphal Arch well, but there’s no longer a bridge. The Arch was moved many years ago and the bridge was demolished in the 19th Century. You appear to have used your imagination somewhat. But none the less that was a first class effort. Keep it up.’

  One look at Anna’s face and Lucy knew she would pay for her progress on the way home. Lucy had to catch the local bus after school, as her mother and sister finished well before her. Unfortunately, while Peter and Frances went one way, she had to share a part of the journey with Anna, Diane and Martha. It was never pleasant and she felt sure today would be even worse than usual. School over, with her head still held high, Lucy moved towards the bus stop. As she got nearer she could hear Diane’s gruff voice and her heart sank, as she caught the gist of what she was saying. With every ounce of courage she possessed, Lucy covered the last dozen steps, as curious eyes stared intently at her; some showed open hostility.

  ‘Don’t attempt any of your tricks here,’ one boy said. ‘We’ll know who to report if anything goes missing – you tea leaf!’

  ‘How could they?’ Lucy thought. ‘How could Anna and the others accuse her of stealing?’ She was stunned, and in her horror, she turned and looked at her three accusers. Anna just stared back; she didn’t even blink. Diane stared directly at her for a few seconds, and then let her gaze travel slowly from head to toe; at the same time a sneer spread across her face. Martha, however, just turned away, her hands fluttered restlessly, while her face, for once, turned pink.

  As the bus pulled up Lucy was pushed and jostled by quite a few of the pupils. She stepped back and when everyone was aboard she got on and sat at the front of the bus, next to a little old lady. The odd cruel comment could be heard, but Lucy concentrated hard on the fact that she was a story traveller, and had faced far more scary foes than these unkind boys and girls. Hideous and Eyesore would soon have had them on the run. Lucy even managed a little smile at the thought.

  ‘Excuse me dear…excuse me,’ the old lady had to tap Lucy gently on the arm as she got up to go. Reluctantly, Lucy let her pass, and then sat in the window seat. Within seconds Anna was beside her.

  ‘You’ve no chance, Lucy Chase,’ she whispered. ‘By the time I’ve finished, you’ll wish you were dead!’ Lucy could feel the tears begin to build up. She swallowed hard and turned to the other girl to ask her why she disliked her so. But Anna had already got up and joined the others, as they got off at the next stop.

  Once the ring leaders had stepped off the bus, the rest left Lucy alone: some of them even appeared to be ashamed of their behaviour. Lucy just continued to look out of the window and allowed herself to daydream. She visualised Brutish and Crapulous capturing Anna and the others in their web. Then she turned her thoughts to her new friend Cinderella. She remembered how she’d felt when she admitted to Cinders she hadn’t told her parents about the bullying. Lucy knew then she should confide in them as soon as possible.

  So that evening, when Sophie had gone up to bed, Lucy told her mother and father some of the things that she’d had to put up with. Mr Chase was furious.

  ‘I’ll go and see the Head tomorrow. Who’s behind this Lucy?’

  But at this stage Lucy was just glad she’d shared her troubles with her parents. She wanted to try and resolve them herself.

  ‘Dad – I’d rather you didn’t. Not yet anyway. I’d like to try and sort this out myself.’

  ‘No Lucy!’ came the quick retort from her father, whose red hair went with a quick temper. ‘Bullying must be reported to the staff. You might not be the only one.’

  ‘Please Dad, give me a while to try and sort it out, please.’

  ‘Roger,’ Jo Chase put a restraining hand on her husband’s shoulder. ‘Listen to Lucy. She’s told us what’s going on – she’ll let us know if she wants us to step in.’ She then went over to Lucy and put her arms round her, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

  ‘Don’t hesitate to get us involved if it gets too much, Sugarplum.’

  ‘Of course, Mum. It’s just I don’t think the person responsible has ever done this before. I seem to threaten her in some way.’

  ‘It’s because you’re so pretty,’ her father tried to smile, still angry that he could not protect his daughter. Lucy grinned.

  ‘Hardly, Dad. She’s gorgeous to look at.’

  ‘Well, you’re too clever then.’

  Lucy considered this for a moment.

  ‘There may be something in that. Not that I’m too clever,’ she added hastily. ‘But she may see me as some kind of threat to her position in class. Our marks are always very close.’

  ‘We’re both so proud of you, darling,’ her mum said.

  ‘We sure are, Princess,’ her dad grinned, his good humour surfacing. ‘Just let me know if you want me to fight her dad for you!’

  ‘See Lucy, you’ve a knight ready to joust for you,’ Jo Chase laughed. ‘Now be a good girl and see if Sophie’s asleep. Just read her a quick story if she isn’t.’

  Lucy left the room more light-hearted than when she had got home. It certainly helped to share troubles and, if everything got too much for her, she knew her parents would be there for her.

  Sophie was still awake. Her brown eyes peered over the top of her duvet and, when she saw it was Lucy, she sat up, took a deep breath, and said: ‘Please, please, please read Cinderella to me again, Lucy please… p l e a s e.’

  ‘All right Sis – but I’ll have to be quick. Once upon a time…’

  CHAPTER FIVE – The Forest of the Fiends

  For once, Lucy didn’t read till her mother made her turn out the light. To the surprise of Jo Chase, she found her older daughter fast asleep. Mrs. Chase stood quietly by the bed, and studied Lucy’s face, which was relaxed and peaceful. It was difficult to believe her daughter was the victim of bullying. Gently, she kissed Lucy on her forehead, turned out the light and left.

  If Mrs Chase had tidied Lucy’s pillow she would have seen a small blue cloak and a neatly folded piece of tissue paper underneath.

  Earlier Lucy had stirred in her sleep. She was sure she heard someone call her. Suddenly she was wide awake. The sound was loud and clear: it was Speed whinnying to wake her up. She leapt out of bed and to her surprise found she was still her normal size. Quickly she took the cloak and tissue paper from under her pillow.

 
; Lucy crept downstairs and let herself out of the back door. Speed’s calls came from the bottom of the garden. With each step Lucy noticed the grass, the trees and the shrubs, grow bigger and bigger, until eventually the cloak dragged on the ground. By the time she’d reached Speed, Lucy was Storyland size again. She rushed up to her friend and threw her arms round his neck as she kissed him.

  ‘Steady, girl, steady!’ the pleased horse nuzzled his mistress. ‘Get your cloak on. We must be off.’

  Lucy wasted no time and covered herself from head to foot, aware, as she did, that under her cloak her nightdress had changed into the pretty blue dress. The two of them rode silently and invisibly through the English countryside. Speed didn’t even stop to warn Lucy when they reached the Once Upon a Time Gate, though she realised they’d passed through when her mouth filled with the flavour of blackcurrants.

  In no time at all Speed stopped close to Cinderella’s house and waited for Lucy to jump off. ‘Be careful, my pet. Don’t do anything foolish.’

  ‘Of course not, my darling Speed. See you later.’

  As Speed trotted off, Lucy ran towards the kitchen door. It was early evening; the sun hadn’t fully set, so the garden didn’t look quite so scary, though the forest close by was still dark and foreboding.

  Lucy wrapped her cloak well round her and knocked. No one came. She tried again, but Cinderella was obviously at the beck and call of her dreadful relatives.

  Lucy tried the door. It was unlocked, so she let herself in to await Cinderella’s return. The house appeared to be in chaos. The kitchen door was wide open and Lucy could hear the Countess and her daughters constantly shouting at Cinderella. There seemed to be a general air of panic. Even Leticia’s dog joined in with his irritating barking.

  Eventually, Cinders appeared in the kitchen. She looked exhausted and close to tears. So as not to scare her, Lucy knocked gently on the door and opened it, so Cinders would know she was inside.

  ‘Is that you Lucy?’ Cinderella whispered, as she looked behind her, worried they may be overheard.

  ‘Yes, Ella! Whatever’s going on? What’s that racket about?’ ‘Tonight’s the Prince’s Ball. Stepmama, Imogene and Leticia have been invited. They’re getting ready and can’t make up their minds about anything. It’s driving me frantic.’

  ‘Cinderella,’ her stepmother’s voice boomed out. ‘Come and help me with my hair.’

  Cinders turned to run upstairs.

  ‘I’ll be back shortly. Wait for me. They’ll be gone soon.’

  As she got to the top step Imogene yelled: ‘Cinderella – my necklace – I hope you’ve mended it. I want it NOW!’

  Cinders returned, snatched up the necklace and ran off.

  Lucy looked around her. The kitchen was a mess. ‘At least I can clear up for poor Cinders,’ Lucy thought. So while she waited, she threw out the rubbish, washed the dishes and generally made the room look tidier.

  The front door bell rang. Lucy wrapped her cloak around her and ran up the kitchen steps to peer behind the door. She saw Cinders run down the stairs and open the door to a rather fussy footman.

  ‘Countess Carnac’s coach awaits,’ he said in a lofty manner.

  Poor Cinderella then had to rush upstairs and let her stepmother know. This increased the amount of panic, as all three demanded Cinderella’s help at the same time. Eventually, they were all ready and began to make their way downstairs.

  Lucy was fascinated by their outfits; she had to be careful not to laugh out loud. All three were dressed to kill: to kill any desire for anyone to want to dance with them. They were in such elaborate fashions, with so many bows and decorations, they had the greatest difficult in actually getting down without a serious mishap. The Countess came down first, in a midnight blue silk ball gown, which was so tightly corseted she could hardly breathe, which meant she puffed and panted with every step. Imogene came next, in sickly pink adorned with large blue frills and then Leticia in ghastly green with oversized gold trimmings; both looked like overdressed dolls. Neither would give way at the top of the stairs and were in grave danger of being permanently joined at the hip, as their ribbons, bows and jewels caught on each other’s gowns. Cinderella had done her best with their hair, but they had so many gems, pearls and jewels attached, they jangled in the most alarming way, and looked in real danger of toppling over. Eventually, after the two girls had pushed and shoved each other repeatedly, all three got to the bottom of the stairs and into the coach. Lucy watched, as a very tired Cinderella waved them off and closed the front door. ‘Oh Ella!’ Lucy put her arms round the other girl. ‘You look so sad and so tired.’

  Cinders rested her head on Lucy’s shoulder for a moment and a single tear ran down her cheek.

  ‘If I’m honest I’d loved to have gone to the ball – just to see the Prince.’

  Difficult as it was, with her friend so upset, Lucy never said a word. They went back into the kitchen, where Cinderella noticed all Lucy’s work.

  ‘Oh thank you Lucy, you’re so kind.’

  ‘I’ve brought some tissue paper from home,’ Lucy told her friend. ‘Do you have an iron? If so I’ll get the wax out of that dress while you have a rest.’

  ‘There’s a flat iron on the hob,’ Cinders pointed. ‘But be careful, the handle is very hot.’

  ‘OK – now you have a sit down, Ella.’

  ‘I can’t Lucy. Each bedroom looks like a battlefield. I need to tidy them up, plus I have to feed Lulu, Leticia’s dog, but I’ll join you when I’ve finished.’ As Cinderella left, Lulu’s bowl clutched in her hand, Lucy looked round for an ironing board, but couldn’t find one, so she laid Cinders’ blanket on the kitchen table and proceeded to work on the dress, as her mother had instructed. To her joy it worked. In a very brief while Lucy had managed to remove nearly every trace of the candle wax. She was delighted.

  By then the sun had set and the kitchen was dark, except for the glow from the fire. Lucy lit some candles and waited for Cinderella to return. Soon the heat from the fire and the candles made her feel rather hot, so she removed her cloak and laid it on Cinderella’s bed. The Countess and the two sisters were now well on their way to the ball. She and Cinderella were alone. Lucy felt there was no need to be invisible.

  After what seemed ages and still Cinders hadn’t returned, Lucy decided to go and look for her. She climbed the kitchen steps and found herself in a large gloomy entrance hall, with doors all the way round. One door was slightly ajar and Lucy could see candlelight. Certain that Cinderella would be inside, she went in. The room was obviously a library: books covered all the walls. There was also a large mahogany desk placed near the French windows, which were still open.

  Lucy moved round the room and read out loud the names of the books. ‘Tom Thumb, The Princess and the Pea, Sleeping Beauty.’ There appeared to be every fairy story ever told, except for Cinderella. As she passed the desk, she saw some ornate cards with a Royal Crest propped up against the lamp. Out of curiosity she picked them up and saw they were the invitations to the Prince’s Ball: one for the Countess, one for Imogene and Leticia, and then, to her pleasant surprise, Lucy saw one made out to The Honourable Ella Carnac. Quickly, Lucy popped it into her apron pocket, then, as she did so, she heard steps.

  The door flung open and she found herself staring into the night black eyes of Cinderella’s stepmother.

  The Countess screamed: ‘Thief, thief! Stop thief!’ Lucy dropped the remaining invitations and turned and ran out of the French doors. By this time the Countess had alerted the footmen, and they tore full pelt round the corner, determined to catch the fleeing girl. So she ran as fast as she could. She ran and ran, aware of the sound of the footsteps of the two men behind her. At one point they got so close she could hear their ragged breath. This made Lucy go even faster. She ran and ran till she found she was completely in the dark. She’d run into that dreadful forest: a place she’d said she’d never enter again and this time it really was pitch black.

  Lucy tried to
quieten her rapid breathing, as she realised she was in serious trouble. She stopped and looked behind her. A vague hazy outline showed that the men had stayed at the edge of the forest. It was obvious they’d no intention of following her, but this didn’t make Lucy feel any better.

  Lucy was in the Forest of the Furies. She’d no magic. She couldn’t make herself invisible. She rapidly became aware, once again, of those strange beings all around her. This time she couldn’t see any spindly legs and arms, but she could hear excited and heavy breathing in front, behind and above her and then two by two, as if someone had switched on the lights, she began to see eyes. Some were round, some cat shape, and some triangular, but they had two things in common: they were all intensely cruel and far too close. Lucy started to walk backwards, so scared she could hardly breathe. Eventually her back hit the trunk of a tree, which gave her some comfort. Her hands went behind her, as she tried to guess the size. It was a big tree, so her immediate back was protected, though she daren’t look up to see what was above her. As her hands felt round the trunk, her fingers closed around a stout broken branch. She grasped it, thankful she now had a weapon, but unsure how she could use it.

  All about her the eyes were closing in. She felt like a petrified rabbit caught in the headlights of cars.

  ‘Trap the traveller, trap the traveller, trap the traveller,’ seemed to come from thousands of individual voices. Though each voice was chillingly unique, together they blended to make a really threatening sound.

  As Lucy pressed into the solid oak trunk, with the branch gripped tightly in her hands, she tried desperately think of a way out. Then she remembered Twinkle’s answer to her question about whether she’d seen hobgoblins in the forest. ‘You can never tell what is who and who is what in Storyland.’ If that was true for her, it had to be true for all these awful creatures. Lucy couldn’t throw her voice like Twinkle, but she might be able to make those bodiless eyes falter for a second.