by Lou Kuenzler
And that’s when I saw it… A little pink nose was twitching up at me, peeping out from underneath the seat in front.
Chapter Eighteen
“Nibbles!” I gasped as the naughty rabbit popped his head out from under the seat. “You were supposed to stay at the villa!”
I was so surprised, it took me a moment to realize I had spoken out loud in Rabbit language. Luckily everyone in the coach was still singing. Other than Esme, Knox was the only person who could hear me. But he had a shock of his own. At exactly the same moment I was shouting at Nibbles, Smoky hopped on to his boot.
“Whoa! Hello, long ears! How did you get in the coach?” Knox blinked with surprise as he stared at the little grey bunny sitting on his foot.
“Desperate demons!” I groaned as Esme nudged me in the ribs. She pointed to Bunnykins the Second hopping down the aisle. The twins had scooped up Cozy and Dozy and were cuddling them in their laps. Speckles was twitching her nose and sitting beside Smoky on Knox’s other boot. Midnight, shy as ever, had darted under the back seat. I could see Fluffy’s long hair poking out from there too.
“It’s only me and a couple friends,” said Nibbles, talking in Rabbit language which probably sounded to everyone else as if he was clicking his teeth. “We hopped back into the coach while the driver was dozing. The others didn’t want to come.”
A couple of friends? It was more than that. I began to count, expecting to find the whole gang of naughty bunnies we had named:
1. Nibbles (the greedy leader, of course)
2. Bunnykins the Second
(sitting with Esme)
3. Smoky (on Knox’s right boot)
4. Speckles (on Knox’s left boot)
5. Cozy (on Zoe’s lap)
6. Dozy (on Zac’s lap)
7. Midnight (under the back seat)
8. Fluffy (under the seat as well)
Hold on! There were three were missing:
9. Ginger (?)
10. Chocolate (?)
11. Snowy (?)
Perhaps they were on the coach somewhere.
“We have to do something! Esme and I wanted to get the rabbits away from Merrymeet before they were captured,” I said, trying to explain everything to Knox and the twins as simply as I could (without mentioning magic). “We smuggled them on to the coach and set them free in the woods – but some came back…”
I was taking a risk – I didn’t know for sure if I could trust Knox not to tell anyone. After all, it was his Uncle Bruiser who was trying to trap the rabbits for Mr Seymour. But right now, I had no choice. He had two bunnies sitting on his enormous boots.
Although we were in the back row and nobody else had spotted the rabbits yet, it wouldn’t be long before somebody turned around. “We can’t let anyone see them,” I whispered. “Not Miss Marker or the coach driver because they might make us hand them over to the village authorities.”
“You mean to Mr Seymour!” added Esme.
“Exactly. And we can’t tell Piers, of course. The less people who know, the better.”
“Right. We need to hide them,” said Zoe, gently lifting Cozy inside her school sweatshirt.
Zac took Dozy. And Esme did the same with Bunnykins the Second.
“You have to keep out of sight,” I said, scooping Nibbles up so that I could whisper into his long fluffy ear. “If only you’d stayed at the villa like I told you to.”
“Not likely!” I felt Nibbles shiver in my arms. “I saw that poor Roman rabbit hanging up in the kitchen to go in a Roman rabbit pie.”
“It wasn’t real,” I sighed. But it was too late to explain that now.
“Come on!” Knox picked up Smoky and Speckles as if they were tiny mice in his giant hands. He slipped one into each of his coat pockets. “There you go!” he said gently. I knew in that moment that I could trust him with the rabbits’ lives.
“I think there’s still three more… No, just two now,” I said as Ginger poked his head out from the under the back seat. I bent right down towards him and whispered quickly in Rabbit language. “Stay there and tell Midnight and Fluffy not to move.”
I hoped Chocolate and Snowy might be under there as well. But then I saw them. They were hopping down the aisle towards us. And Miss Marker was coming too.
She hadn’t seen the bunnies yet, as she was leaning over the seats, collecting in the worksheets and making her way towards us at the back of the bus.
She had already reached Keeley and Lexie just two seats in front.
“Don’t worry!” said Knox. He stuck out his legs as far as he could, stretching them along the aisle to try and hide the rabbits.
But Chocolate had other ideas. He shot up Knox’s left trouser leg as if it were a rabbit’s burrow.
Whee! Snowy whizzed up the right leg.
“Yikes!” yelped Knox. “I wasn’t expecting that!”
“Everything all right back here?” asked Miss Marker.
“Just perfect!” giggled the whole back row, handing her our worksheets as quickly as we could.
“That was a close one!” said Zoe as Miss Marker made her way back to the front of the bus.
“You can say that again!” Knox wriggled.
Now at least I knew where all eleven naughty bunnies were hiding.
“What are we going to do with them all when we get back to the village?” I said, turning to Esme.
But she was staring out of the window with her mouth wide open.
I saw at once that we were passing the windmill.
“Look!” she cried. “It’s Mr Seymour. He’s come already!”
The meadow was full of bulldozers and diggers and trucks. Mr Seymour himself was standing beside the windmill in a bright-yellow builder’s hat. He was pointing to a crane with a giant metal wrecking ball swinging like an iron fist.
“He said we had six more days!” gasped Esme. She bundled Bunnykins the Second into my arms and leapt to her feet.
“Stop the coach!” she cried, running down the aisle. “Please! Stop the coach.”
Chapter Nineteen
I think the coach driver must have thought Esme was going to be sick or something. He opened the door quicker than a wizard with a wand.
Esme was halfway across the meadow before Miss Marker caught up with her.
“Wait!” cried the desperate teacher. “You have to be careful with all this machinery around.”
But the rest of the class were already down the steps and in the meadow behind her.
“Aren’t my dad’s machines awesome?” boasted Piers. “They’ll knock the windmill down in two seconds flat.”
“Quick!” I whispered to my friends on the back row. “Leave the rabbits here. We have to help Esme.”
As Knox and the twins dashed to the coach door, I lined the bunnies up under the back seat.
“You’re in charge,” I said to Ginger who always seemed the most sensible. “Don’t let Nibbles lead you astray.” I grabbed a bag of carrot sticks left over from my packed lunch. “Share these and stay here. Do you understand me?”
Eleven little bunnies nodded their heads. Even Nibbles looked like he meant it.
“Try and be good!” I said, and then I ran down the aisle, almost colliding with the driver as he stepped out of the coach to see what was going on as well.
Everyone was crowded around the windmill. Mrs Lee was standing on the doorstep holding baby Bean, who was clutching his yellow rabbit toy. Gretel was peering out from behind her mum’s skirt.
“Mr Seymour turned up an hour ago with all these bulldozers and things,” Mrs Lee told Esme. “I was trying to write a story, so I didn’t notice at first. Then I looked out of the window and there they all were.”
“But surely Mr Seymour can’t knock down the windmill just like that?” said Zoe.
“He’ll need written permission from the council,” said Zac.
Esme and I looked desperately at Miss Marker and the coach driver, hoping the adults would back this up.
“That’s right! Yo
u need papers,” nodded the driver. “My brother-in-law had to wait six months just to knock down his own garden shed.”
Mr Seymour hadn’t even waited six days.
“Dad’s got all that stuff sorted,” said Piers. “His friends in the council signed everything.”
“My colleagues in the council, you mean,” said Mr Seymour, appearing suddenly with Lady Trim beside him. “It was all very professional and above board. I went to see them again this morning to tell them I’d sort out the terrible rabbit plague that’s been ravishing Merrymeet.”
“Rabbit plague?” Mrs Lee looked confused.
But Mr Seymour carried on. “When Lady Trim and the council saw how helpful I was being, they said I could get on with building my concrete car park out here just as soon as I like.”
“Well somebody had to do something,” mumbled Lady Trim.
“Only because you’re head of the Allotment Committee as well as the council!” said Esme bravely. “You just wanted the rabbits to stop eating your precious vegetables.”
“I still don’t understand what any of this has got to do with rabbits,” said poor Mrs Lee in confusion.
But I knew it had all started when Nibbles bit Piers’s nose. I only needed to see the horrid grin on his face to know this whole thing was his way of getting revenge on Esme. But it wasn’t her fault, of course. It was mine.
“We’re wasting time,” snarled Mr Seymour. “I’ve got all the papers here.” He waved a large brown envelope in the air. “Get these children out of the way, Miss Marker; I need to start knocking things down.”
“I’d like to have a look at the papers first,” said Miss Marker, holding her hand out towards Mr Seymour and Lady Trim as if she had caught them passing a naughty note in class.
“Oh, would you?” Mrs Lee’s face lit up. “Just to check they seem fair…”
“Of course.” Miss Marker nodded and Mr Seymour handed over the envelope with a scowl.
“I’ll make us all a nice cup of tea … at least while I’ve still got a kitchen,” said Mrs Lee.
“As long as you’ve got proper china teacups,” sighed Lady Trim, following her inside.
“Send a cuppa out for me, Miss Marker. I’ll keep an eye on the kids for you,” said the coach driver. Half the class had already wandered off and were kicking a football about.
“Complete waste of time! The papers are in perfect order,” growled Mr Seymour, but he followed the three women inside the windmill, leaving muddy footprints all across the hall.
His drivers climbed out of their trucks and diggers.
“This won’t make any difference,” groaned Esme. “As soon as Miss Marker reads those papers she’ll realize that Merrymeet Council have found a way to let Mr Seymour build his horrid concrete car park right away. They always agree to everything he wants.”
“Unless there’s bats, of course,” said the coach driver.
“Bats? How would that help?” I asked.
“Doesn’t have to be bats. Could be owls,” said the driver. “That was the trouble when my brother-in-law wanted to knock down his shed. An environmental officer came from head office somewhere. He thought there might be some sort of rare bat living in the shed … or was it an owl?” He chewed his lip thoughtfully. “Anyway, the point was, my brother-in-law wasn’t allowed to knock down anything until they were absolutely sure there were no endangered creatures living there.”
“And it had to be a bat or an owl?” I asked.
“I think it’s the same for snakes,” said the driver.
“Snakes?” This was getting better and better. I didn’t know anything about council Persons or papers or environmental officers … but I did know a lot about magical creatures like owls and bats and snakes.
“It’s lizards and moths and beetles too,” said Zoe knowledgeably.
“Lizards?” I was almost jumping about with excitement.
“Any kind of endangered species can stop building works if they are found to be living there,” agreed Zac. “Natterjack toads are about the rarest of all.”
“Toads!” Now I really did leap in the air. “I know all about them!”
There might be a way that I could save the windmill after all…
Chapter Twenty
My fingers curled around my pink fluffy wand. I couldn’t turn back time or cast a spell to make Mr Seymour and his machines vanish, but perhaps there was a better way to get rid of him. If I could magically summon some sort of rare animal to come and live in the meadow then the environmental officer Person would send the diggers away and Mr Seymour wouldn’t be allowed to build his horrid concrete car park after all. I was just about to speak, when—
“I’ve got an idea,” said Zoe, drawing us away from the bulldozers. “We can call the environmental office and get them to send someone over here to look for endangered species at once. I bet there’s something endangered around here.”
“I can even ask my brother-in-law for the number if you like,” said the coach driver.
“It’s no good,” sighed Esme. “I don’t think there are any rare creatures in the meadow. I’ve only ever seen slugs and snails and a couple of pigeons.”
“The slugs might be rare,” said Zac hopefully.
“The important thing is to make sure Mr Seymour can’t knock down the windmill today,” said Zoe. “We can start a petition or something later. All we need is a little time. If we call the environmental office, at least that will slow things down.”
“Exactly. You keep an eye on the machines,” I told Knox who was towering over us. “Don’t let anyone start knocking anything down until the twins have made their phone call.”
“I’ll say we’ve seen a natterjack toad,” said Zac. “I know exactly what they look like. They have a big yellow stripe down their backs.”
“Perfect! We’ll head down to the stream at the bottom of the meadow and see what we can find,” I said, beckoning Esme to follow me. I wanted to get her by herself to explain my secret magic part of the plan. But, as we ran past a giant bulldozer, Piers stepped out from behind it.
“Where are you off to?” He laughed nastily. “Are you going home, Esme? Oh, I forgot, you don’t have a home do you? Or not for much longer anyway?”
“I wish you could turn him into a natterjack toad,” sighed Esme as we ignored him and ran on.
“I did think about it. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to turn Piers Seymour into a slimy reptile!” After all, this was his doing – asking his dad to punish Esme and getting rid of the rabbits too, all because he hated Nibbles. “But turning Persons into toads just because you don’t like them is the sort of magic that will get us into trouble,” I said firmly.
“So what is your plan?” asked Esme.
“You’ll see,” I said, crouching down on my hands and knees by the edge of the stream. “Ribbit…” I croaked. “Ribbit, Ribbit!”
I cocked my head and listened.
“That was Toad Talk,” I explained to Esme. “If there is a natterjack anywhere near, it will hear me and come running … or hopping, anyway.”
“You do look funny,” smiled Esme.
I hopped up and down on my hands and knees.
“Ribbit! Ribbit!” I called desperately. “Please toads come and help us!”
Nothing happened. After fifteen minutes I gave up. “Maybe there aren’t any toads near here,” I sighed. I tried a little owl – “Twit-twoo!” – and bat – “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” – just in case that would work. Still nothing.
“The bats and owls will be sleeping. They won’t come while it’s daytime anyway,” I sighed.
“If only we had our recorders,” said Esme. “Perhaps we could play a toad-charming tune.”
We looked across the meadow. Zac and Zoe were waving to us from the gate by the road. A car had pulled in and they were talking to a woman wearing a long white coat.
“That must be the environmental officer already,” groaned Esme.
“And we still ha
ven’t got a toad,” I said. “If there are no endangered species here, Mr Seymour will be allowed to knock the windmill down and cover the meadow in concrete.”
Esme was pacing by the side of the stream.
“Listen,” she said. “I’ve had an idea. If there aren’t any real toads and you won’t turn horrible Piers Seymour into one, then how about me?”
“You?” I asked.
“Yes!” Esme hopped up and down. “Turn me into a toad! Please!”
“It’s too dangerous,” I gasped. “I accidentally turned Aunt Hemlock into a toad once. She insisted on hopping everywhere for a whole week afterwards. She wouldn’t walk or ride her broomstick, and she kept sticking out her tongue and eating flies.”
“But I’ll know the spell is coming,” said Esme bravely. “I’ll close my eyes and think of all my favourite foods like cupcakes and marshmallows and chocolate. And I’ll imagine myself running through the meadow. If I keep my memories with me, there won’t be any chance of hopping about or eating flies when I turn back again.”
“I’m not even sure I can do the spell properly. It was a mistake last time…”
“You have to try. It’s our only chance to save Windmill Meadow!” said Esme.
The environmental officer Person was walking through the orchard with the twins. I could hear Zoe saying loudly, “Um, yes, I think it was just over here that we saw the rare creature…”
Esme looked up at me and her blue eyes were full of hope. “Please,” she begged. “I know you can do it, Bella. You’re brilliant at magic.”
“I suppose I could try,” I said slowly. “I could turn you into a toad just for an hour or two.”
“A rare natterjack toad,” said Esme.
“All right. But we’ll need to be quick.” If I didn’t act fast I would lose my nerve completely. “Ready? Just promise me you’ll keep thinking about marshmallows and chocolate,” I said as I began to mutter a spell.
Take my friend and turn her
green…
Like the rarest natterjack ever seen!
No sooner had I waved my wand than there was a puff of smoke.
Esme was gone. For a minute I thought she had vanished altogether.