‘Right,’ he said, placing the crystal back in his pocket. ‘Me mate Bob agrees, I’m not paid enough to be landed with this sort of responsibility.’
He rummaged around in his pocket again and took out an ink pad and rubber stamp. Opening his giant, leather-bound notebook, he stamped the page with my picture on it and tore out the one below. He rolled up the thick yellowy parchment and tapped me on the head with it before handing it to me.
‘Wish denied?’ I said. ‘What do you mean, wish denied?’
‘What do you think it means, genius?’
‘But I triggered your wishometer.’
‘Don’t you wishometer me. That may be but you’ve also set off me queenie-will-kill-me bell.’
‘There’s no such thing.’
He pointed at his chest and it began to glow. A badge appeared in the shape of the royal shield. ‘By royal order, this badge says. Your mam put in a special request for me to take over as the royal advisor when Zana jacked it in. Very grateful to her I am. So if something’s likely to upset our queenie, then it’s a no.’
What? He had to be lying. Mum putting in a special request for this idiot?
‘But you have to grant my wish. The constitution says so.’
‘Look, appeal to the Council if you will. But, I’m telling yer, they’re not daft enough to get on the wrong side of Old King Frilly Knickers. Not after the Great Banishment.’
‘Banishment?’
‘Oops, me and me big gob. I forgot, nobody’s meant to talk about that.’ He tapped his bulbous nose. ‘Likes to keep his skeletons in his cupboard, yer dad.’
I thought about what Aunt Maude had said: we mustn’t talk about her or the place she was sent. ‘What kind of skeletons exactly?’ I said.
The Godfather yawned. ‘Right, I’m off—’
There was a puff of green smoke. The Godfather did a little jig like he had ants in his pants and pulled out his crystal gazer.
‘What now?’ he said, placing the crystal in the flat of his hand.
This time the squeaky voice belonged to a woman – and she was speaking Biscottian.
‘Hold on.’ The Godfather stepped into my closet. ‘Private,’ he said, slamming the door.
I pressed my ear against the polished wood but he must have gone right to the back because all I could hear was muffled squeaks. I put Jeb down on the floor and gave him his dinosaur claw. Chewing my hair, I waited for the Godfather.
‘Right, change of plan,’ he said, finally emerging from the closet. ‘It looks like you get yer wish. Now stand back.’
What had changed? Was that Zana on the crystal gazer?
The Godfather waved his wand and the room filled with green smoke. ‘Bad idea if you ask me – which nobody ever does.’
When the smoke eventually cleared, the Godfather was standing next to a beautiful lilac BMX. Like, wow! Wow! Wow! I ran towards the bike. It was so totally cool.
‘Safety first.’ The Godfather stepped in front of the BMX and handed me a silver bike pump.
I ran my finger over the emblem on the pump: a raised letter P.
‘Be careful with that, and keep it with yer at all times. You never know when yer might need it.’
Erg, like OK. He was talking nonsense again. I leant to the side trying to get a proper look at my BMX and the Other World clothes that were hanging over it. There was a rucksack too, with a matching wallet and a helmet and water bottle.
‘Now the rules: first off, do not breathe a word of Biscotti to anyone.’
As if. After the way Ethan had reacted to my princess dress, you didn’t need to be a genius to work out that was a bad idea.
‘I mean it.’ The Godfather tapped his wand across his hand. ‘One word and I’ll turn you and that fluffball to dragon dung.’
That sounds painful. Point noted.
‘They’ll just think yer away with the fairies, anyway,’ he continued, giving Jeb a look that made him whimper. ‘Or worse still, a baby. You don’t want people thinkin’ yer a baby now, do yer?’
Blah blah blah . . . just give me the bike.
‘Are you listening? Because this is important – following the correct portal protocol is paramount.’ The Godfather pointed his finger at me and started to spout some daft nursery rhyme:
‘It starts with a kick,
‘A kick of the heel,
‘With a bit of spit, it opens no big deal,
‘But do make sure to secure it again,
‘By tapping twice and counting to ten.’
Oh, my giddy goblin, this man was a lunatic.
‘Got it?’ he said.
‘Got it,’ I repeated. Like, whatever it takes for you to give me the BMX!
Oh my curly candy, I just love riding BMX. Apart from sack-racing, it’s the only thing I’ve ever been any good at. Or at least I thought I was good at it when we were practising tricks on the flat concrete behind the children’s play area. I could do endos, no problem, and bunny hops and bar spins. I could even do a tail whip – Ethan said it took him ages to get the knack of that move. But I couldn’t get my head around the bowl.
That’s what they call the grey crater thing where I first saw Cleo on her BMX. Ethan was trying to teach me to air out of it – to fly into the air and twist my bike around – but it just wasn’t happening.
‘Go on, Ava.’ Ethan touched my arm. ‘What are you waiting for?’ he said. ‘You’re well ready for this.’
What was I waiting for? Erg, I wasn’t quite sure, but if everyone could just stop staring at me that might help. My new friends, the wheely-boarders Ant and Kai, peered eagerly over from the other side of the bowl and Cleo was watching my every move.
‘Remember,’ she said, ‘stay loose on the bike.’
I nodded and tightened my helmet. Checking the opposite corner of the bowl was clear, I dropped into the concrete basin, keeping the bike at an angle. Eyes on the opposite ramp, I pedalled forward.
‘Go on, Ava,’ called Ethan.
I wanted to make him happy, I so did. But each time I went to jump, I froze. I couldn’t do it – no matter how hard I tried.
I slowed and let my bike slide backwards into the bowl.
‘No big deal,’ Ant called from the top of the bowl. ‘Cleo forgets not everyone gets it straight away.’
Cleo and Ant are twins. They have this spooky thing going on where they know what each other is thinking. It’s like totally weird because even though they think the same, apart from their dark, curly hair they look nothing alike. Cleo is small and sparrow-like while Ant is more a cross between a giraffe and a rhino.
I smiled but I didn’t feel happy. Up until now I had got everything straight away. What was wrong with me? I’d been trying all day and I was actually worse than when I started.
‘One more time?’
I shook my head at Ethan. I’d been riding so much my legs were wobbling. I’d try again next weekend. I pushed my bike up out of the bowl.
‘You’ll get it,’ Cleo said, pulling at a thread on her denim cut-offs. ‘You just need to practise more. You should come to BMX camp with me. We can bunk together.’
Ethan shook his head. ‘Not everyone has parents who poop money, you know.’
‘Harsh, dude.’ Kai picked up his skateboard and hugged it to his chest.
A skateboard is the proper name for those wheely-board things I told you about. And talking of proper names, Kai is the proper name for Ollie, the boy with the shorts and straight hair. Who it turns out isn’t called Ollie at all. Rather, an ollie is the name of a skateboard trick. The Other World is so confusing.
‘Sorry.’ Ethan gave Cleo an unsure smile. He knew she was really looking forward to her week-long BMX camp in the school holidays.
‘No worries.’ Cleo tapped her orange-painted fingernail against her teeth. ‘You OK, Ethy?’
‘Just a bit tired. Late night again. Mum was working at the pub and I was worried about her coming home in the dark after the trouble on the estate.’
> Cleo looked at Ant. He nodded. ‘Hey, you guys want to come for pizza with us?’ he said.
Cleo linked arms with me. Like actually linked arms with me. Dancing unicorns, nobody apart from my family had ever done that before. ‘Please come,’ she said. ‘It’ll be fun.’
‘What do you say, Ava?’ Ethan rummaged in his jeans pocket. He bent down to pick up a gold coin he’d dropped. ‘You hungry?’
Hungry? I was starvanche, but I had no idea if the paper money the Godfather had left me would be enough to pay for this pizza food. In Biscotti, I wasn’t allowed to carry money.
‘I’ll shout you a slice,’ said Cleo, as though reading my mind.
‘I couldn’t possibly—’
‘Come on. That’s what friends are for . . .’
I felt all warm inside, like I’d just eaten a bowl of apple pie and custard. Cleo thought of me as her friend. This was turning into the best day since Mum had given me Jeb. I just hoped I liked pizza.
Oh my growling griffin, pizza is like the best thing ever! Well, maybe it’s not as good as BMX but it’s up there with chocolate fountains and ice cream sundaes. Cleo and Ant led the way to this little café that smelt of hot cheese. We had to queue up in front of a glass counter and point at the pizza slice we wanted. Then a shiny-faced man in a shiny red apron put it on a tray and asked if we’d like a drink. I had a slice of pepperoni and a Coke because that’s what Ethan had.
We sat in a booth in the window, Kai, Cleo and Ant squashing together on one seat and me and Ethan sitting opposite.
‘So,’ Cleo said. ‘Ryan wants to know when you’re coming back to training.’
Ethan ignored Cleo. ‘Not eating your pizza,’ he said, nudging my tray.
I poked at the pizza. Everyone was eating with their fingers, but it was loaded with herby tomato sauce which made it all floppy and I wasn’t sure what to do. A princess is not expected to get food on her fingers when dining. Cleo smiled and pulled off some of the gooey cheese oozing from her slice of ham and mozzarella. She squashed it into a ball and popped it on the end of her tongue. I glanced sideways down the restaurant and did the same.
Yumtastic or what? I grabbed the pizza slice and took a humongous bite.
‘Ethan?’ Cleo brushed a crumb off Ant’s red-and-black lumberjack shirt. He huffed and pushed her hand away. ‘There’s this big coach visiting from the US,’ she continued. ‘Ryan said he’ll be working with the junior racing club.’
‘Who’s Ryan?’ I asked, wiping tomato sauce from my chin.
‘Ethan’s coach,’ said Ant. ‘Or at least he used to be.’
Ethan pushed his tray away. His cheeks were bright red. He stared out of the window while the rest of us finished our pizza in silence. ‘Look, Ava,’ he said, slurping down the last of his Coke. ‘Isn’t that the weird woman from the park?’
‘Yes. Yes, it is.’
Her hair was different – it was cut into a sort of bowl shape and dyed kingfisher blue – but it was definitely her. Her dog saw us through the window and barked – his quiff had been dyed blue too.
‘Hey, that’s the lady who was asking about Ava last week,’ Kai said. ‘Odette.’
‘What?’ I sat up straight.
The woman called Odette yanked the dog’s lead and pulled him away from the window. She didn’t look at us, even though Elvis was going off on one big-style.
‘She wanted to know where you were from.’ Kai scrunched up his face. ‘Where do you live?’
I shuffled in my seat. ‘The other side of the lock,’ I said. Which was sort of true.
‘Check out her Perspex wedges.’ Cleo leant closer to the window. ‘Radical or what.’
Ethan shrugged. ‘Radical? She’s totally creepy. Why would she want to know where Ava lives?’
The pizza churned in my stomach. Yes, why? There was something about this woman that just didn’t feel right. She was on the other side of the street now, near the bike stand where we’d left our BMXs. Leaning against a shiny black car, she held her rectangle phone to her ear, waving her free hand about like she was conducting an orchestra.
Ethan’s phone beeped. He stared at the screen. ‘I have to go. Mum’s short on milk at the café. Ready, Ava?’
‘Sure.’ My bike was locked up with Ethan’s. I was glad. I didn’t want to have to walk past that scary Odette woman by myself.
Seeing us cross the road, she stopped talking and put her phone in her oversized handbag. ‘Avariella,’ she said. ‘I’m charmed.’
‘Why have you been asking about Ava?’ Ethan said, holding his bike helmet in front of him.
Odette’s dark blue eyes widened. Her black eyeliner was finished with a neat flick at the outer edge of each lid. ‘And good day to you too, young man,’ she said.
‘Whatever.’ Ethan went to unlock the bikes.
‘My friends said you were looking for me,’ I said apologetically. That was a bit rude of Ethan.
‘Not me, darling. Elvis.’
‘Your dog was looking for me?’ He was barking at the cars and hadn’t even noticed I was there.
‘Yes. For some unfathomable reason he seems to have taken a liking to you.’
I glanced over to the pizza-shop window where Cleo was peering at me anxiously.
Odette smiled – or maybe it was a grimace – either way it wasn’t exactly friendly. ‘No matter. I’ll not be requiring your services now anyway.’
‘My services?’
‘Yes, Elvis was hoping you could help out with a bit of dog-minding while I was away perusing a little off-shore development.’
I screwed up my face – why would she ask a stranger to dog sit?
‘But I’m afraid you’ve missed out on the opportunity to serve me.’
The opportunity to serve her? Like, woe is me.
‘I’ve taken the plunge and signed the contract. I was literally just sorting the final details. I’ve decided to supervise the early stages of the project myself.’
‘That’s nice,’ I said.
‘Delightful. I thought there might have been a few more barriers to my relocation. I mean, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea – a theme park – but it turns out the doors were wide open.’
Odette’s smile made the hairs on my neck stand up.
‘I just hope the weather settles down again. There was a terrible storm on my last visit.’
What was it with these Other World folk and the weather?
‘Anyway, I wanted to wish you good luck.’
‘Good luck?’
‘Come on, Ava.’ Ethan handed me my BMX. When I turned round again, Odette was gone.
Oh my giddy goblin, Mademoiselle Hornet-Boules is the worst. She’d only been my governess for a few weeks but it already felt like a lifetime. At this rate I might just lock myself in a dingy tower – and throw away the key.
‘Faster, girl!’ The mademoiselle tapped her cane across her hand. ‘You should be able to balance a blancmange on your head by now. What is wrong with you?’
What’s wrong with me? Like, hello! I lifted my hands ready to catch the silver serving plate, and picked up pace.
‘Non. Non. Non.’ Mademoiselle Hornet-Boules’s skirt made a swishing sound as she crossed the room. She jerked my hand away and peered over the top of her half-moon glasses. ‘No cheating. Now try again.’
Think of BMX. Think of BMX. Think of BMX. Think of Ethan and your friends.
Yes, friends.
I had friends! And I’d been having such a brilliant time in the Other World with them.
‘Concentrate, girl.’ Mademoiselle Hornet-Boules poked me with her cane. ‘Back straight. See how I hold mine.’
Everything about Mademoiselle Hornet-Boules was straight. Her back. Her nose. Her thin pencilled eyebrows. Even the black ribbon she tied around the tight bun that sat in the exact centre of her head. Symmetry is important, mon enfant. It keeps society on the right track. You must not stray from the path that has been allocated to you.
The path that
has been allocated to me? Like, why did being the heir to the throne mean I wasn’t allowed to be me? I didn’t even want to be Queen. I wanted to eat pizza and win a gold medal in the Olympics. I took another step forward. The tray thundered to the floor, the blancmange narrowly missing Hornet-Boules’s buckled patent leather shoe.
‘Leave it, child,’ she said. ‘My nerves will not take any more of you.’ She adjusted her glasses. ‘Now quickly. The royal carriage leaves in five minutes.’
Today I was going with my family to unveil a new statue of Dad at the harbour in Bourbon. On the plus side, I got out of my lesson in domestic accounting, but the downside was having to sit in a carriage with Dad for two hours. I ran down the back stairs and through the servants’ quarters to fetch Jeb. He was in the herb garden with Doreen, his unicorn onesie streaked with dirt. Mum had bought the onesie especially because the argento unicorns had been sighted near Silver-Oak River. She promised we could go and see them on the way to Bourbon.
‘Chickens have all scarpered,’ Cook said, shaking her head at Doreen and Jeb who were now whizzing around the vegetable cart. She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with her frilled apron and put her hands on her hips, her round face as red as a sugar dummy. ‘Tell your father, if there’s no eggs for breakfast in the morning it’s your fault.’
‘My fault!’
‘Yours and that daft-looking dog. Poor chickens don’t get a moment’s peace with him.’ Cook disliked Jeb even more than she disliked me. ‘Not my place to say it, I know.’
But you’re going to.
‘But this family’s cursed with wayward women . . .’
‘Yes, Cook,’ I said, racing off across the patio.
Doreen bleated excitedly and started to follow.
‘Sorry, Do-Do. There’s no chance Dad will let you come. Not after you ate the speech he’d prepared.’
Princess BMX Page 5
