With their dad still stuck in the chimney and their mum now writing a note to one of the neighbours to say ‘We know you are copying us – please stop’, the twins could see the figures getting closer and closer to the house. The twins weren’t able to breathe or move, and a magical force from the twins made the doors lock, curtains close and the sofas slam against the living room door.
‘For goodness’ sake, girls, control your magic moods!’ Mrs Tipple said, now scurrying towards the sofas with the note clutched tightly in her hand.
Mr Tipple got out of the fireplace to help her with the rearranged furniture, and birds were now flying around the living room. Mrs Tipple got the worst of it as they clawed at her hair.
‘Oh, I’ve lost my note! My note to next door!’
With everyone waving their arms about to shoo the birds away, the twins eventually drew back the curtains and opened a window to let some of them out. It was then that they saw the figures getting even closer, making it clear to the girls who they actually were.
It was Aunt Maud and Uncle Patrick Boggins with Cousin Beatrice. They were breezing through the birds like they were elegantly crowdsurfing them.
There was a knock at the door.
‘If that’s a neighbour wanting to complain about the birds…!’ Mr Tipple said, wiping off as much soot as he could from his face as he climbed over a sofa and opened the front door. ‘Ah, it all makes sense now, the extra birds… the weather,’ he said, disappointed.
Aunt Maud was wearing her usual green hat, slightly to one side, and Uncle Patrick still had no hair. They stood in the doorway with Cousin Beatrice between them. They should have known this really. Cousin Beatrice normally carried a dark cloud over her. She seemed to have that effect on people and the weather. Mrs Tipple had told Jenna and Jessica it was because she was one of those girls who just can’t behave themselves, and because magic moods leak from the skin, the weather picks up on it if it’s strong enough.
Jenna and Jessica never got on with Cousin Beatrice. She was two years older than them, the same age as their older sister Caitlyn, in fact, and she was the most spoilt girl in England. She was their ‘cousinless cousin’ because she quite simply denied the fact the Tipple twins were her relatives.
The Tipple twins hated everything about her. They hated her red hair, her freckles… Their mum told them it was a sign of beauty, but something told the twins they were a sign of something quite the opposite.
Beatrice was naturally plump but Aunt Maud would zap her with her fingers to make her skinny so Beatrice could afford to eat as much as she wanted without the doctors mentioning obesity.
‘Well, are you going to let us in? Or are we going to stand out here in the rain? And honestly… you really do need to do something about those birds!’ Aunt Maud said as she let her umbrella down. Knowing Aunt Maud, it was probably the most expensive umbrella you could buy.
Aunt Maud and Uncle Patrick Boggins had a lot of money. They had a habit of using their magic gift to change their lottery ticket numbers to the winning ones. Mr and Mrs Tipple deeply disapproved of this – no wonder Cousin Beatrice had been caught using her magic before. It’s not like they ever set a good example. So, because they had money on tap, Aunt Maud and Patrick Boggins didn’t work. Aunt Maud spent all day at home in her mansion attending to her ten cats and pruning her flowers, if that, while Uncle Patrick spent the day on his podgy bum reading newspapers and moaning about the bad weather.
‘So sorry, come in. Tell your mother to put the kettle on. I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see her sister,’ Mr Tipple said with a false smile.
Aunt Maud tried lifting a podgy leg over one side of the sofa and she got stuck because her skirt wouldn’t allow her to lift the other. She told Uncle Patrick she would have to spend the rest of the week in bed to get over the trauma and that he should check that no damage had been done to her designer boots. Uncle Patrick then did a dainty roll over the sofa so not to ruin his tailored suit, and landed softly on his bottom. Beatrice was skinny enough to fit through the gap and slid through unnoticed.
Mrs Tipple came back in from the kitchen with scratches on her face and tangled hair. Holding a tray of teacups, milk, sugar, a pot of tea and some cookies, she trod carefully over the remaining birds that were scattered on the floor. She murmured the words ‘note … neighbours … lost … b-but’ a few times before coming to her senses.
Aunt Maud said she needed at least ten sugars in her tea to help her with her own state of shock and put in well over twenty. ‘Honestly, Sister,’ she added, ‘I know you’ve let things slip since Caitlyn’s disappearance, but the state of this house is something else. You have to let her go. There’s one thing wanting something you need and then there’s just being plain greedy. You still have two daughters left!’
Aunt Maud then went on to insult Mr Tipple about his hygiene. ‘You need to wash more regularly. Have you seen how dirty your skin is?’ It was after this that the real topic of conversation, which everyone was waiting for, was raised, although the Tipple twins weren’t looking forward to hearing it. If Aunt Maud ever had anything to moan about, it was the fact that her daughter had used her magic in public.
‘We have a slight… p—’ Aunt Maud began. Her teacup shook in her hand.
‘Are you okay?’ Mrs Tipple said.
‘We have a slight problem. You see… Beatrice—’
‘Oh, spit it out, Maud!’ Uncle Patrick interrupted.
‘Beatrice has used her magic again – this time at school.’
‘That’s awful!’ Mrs Tipple said.
‘That’s not all,’ Aunt Maud continued. Beatrice was leaning against the wall playing with her red hair. She looked pleased that she was the topic of conversation. On the other side of the room, however, strands of Aunt Maud’s hair started sticking out at the sides. Mrs Tipple had told the twins before that this happened as a result of stress. It was something that happened to adults on a regular basis, only Aunt Maud was one of those unfortunate people it affected in a strange way.
‘The other thing is… the head teacher saw it this time.’
‘Oh, Maud,’ Mrs Tipple said.
Mr Tipple and Uncle Patrick sat in a manly silence.
‘What did the head say?’ Mrs Tipple asked.
‘He told us he saw Beatrice sending a year two pupil flying around the playground like a helicopter, and so did the rest of the school. But seeing this bizarre act… well, it sent him–’
‘Oh spit it out, Maud!’ Uncle Patrick whined.
Everyone sat straight and twiddled their thumbs, until a plate with some cookies on cracked due to Aunt Maud’s tension and one of the sofas split in two. Uncle Patrick landed in a heap squirming and squealing like a pig.
‘It sent him to a nuthouse!’ she shouted. ‘Patrick, get up off the floor. Stop being dramatic!’
‘My suit, Maud! You’ve ruined my tailored suit! You know how long it took for them to get it to fit around my lumps and bumps!’ he yelled, before squeezing himself comfortably in the crack of the now split-in-two sofa.
‘Look, what I’m going to say to you is that my Beatrice is going to have to stay with you for a while,’ Aunt Maud said as she took a hanky out of her posh handbag and dabbed the sweat from her forehead.
‘No she’s not!’ Mr Tipple said, jumping up out of his chair, his mood smashing everyone’s teacups.
‘Well, that’s rather rude!’ Uncle Patrick also stood up, shaking the tea off his fingers. His bald head looked shiny under the light hanging from the ceiling, which eventually popped.
Aunt Maud started fake-crying loudly into her hanky. ‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry, because you’re not going to like what I have to say next,’ she said, sobbing with one eye peering from behind the hanky. ‘I’ve enrolled all three of them to start Chumsworth as of September, because I won’t have my daughter go to Gospel Gluts.’
&
nbsp; ‘Glums, Maud. It’s Gospel Glums,’ Mrs Tipple corrected her. ‘Now come on, everyone calm down. We can’t behave like this, not in front of the children. And control your magic moods!’ she said, quickly turning the lamp on. ‘Maud, it’s fine, Beatrice can stay with us. She can’t possibly go back home. It’s far too dangerous. Though I can’t say I’m happy with you interfering in my children’s school life. No doubt you waved your money at the school to get them in? But you’re right, Chumsworth is better than Gospel Glums.’
‘Gluts, dear,’ Maud said. ‘It’s Gospel Gluts…’
‘Maud, where will you and Patrick go?’ said Mrs Tipple, waving away Maud’s last comment.
‘Egypt!’ shouted Uncle Patrick.
‘Oh, but that’s so far away?’
‘Yes, we know it’s… further away than normal,’ Aunt Maud said, stabbing her umbrella into her husband’s ribs. ‘It’s not like we ever got to see the sun really. Not since Beatrice was born. We should have known she’d be… difficult.’
She took the umbrella and handed it to Mrs Tipple like she was passing down the deed. She was already making moves to leave the Tipple house. Jenna and Jessica could tell this because she gave the house a look up and down with a disapproving scowl.
‘So when will she move in?’ Mrs Tipple said.
‘Well, actually, we have her bags in the car. We really should get going. Our plane leaves in two hours. Patrick, get the bags will you?’
After Uncle Patrick came back soaking wet and holding onto the bags, which now had birds perched on them, Aunt Maud kissed Beatrice by rubbing noses, so as not to ruin her red lipstick. Mr Tipple took the bags off Uncle Patrick and Uncle Patrick disinfected his hands with a handy sized bottle of gel. Then they left.
‘I hope she gets really wet,’ Mr Tipple moaned. Beatrice was still leaning against the wall in the front room when the Tipples made their way back indoors. It was the end of a long day, and Mr and Mrs Tipple decided it was best she had their bed for now. They had to make do with the living room floor.
*
Jenna and Jessica lay in bed that night praying Beatrice would control her magic moods. They really didn’t want to spend the rest of their childhood being cold and wet. But on the upside, there weren’t as many birds on the square as there had been a few hours ago. Some of them had gone to Egypt with Aunt Maud and Uncle Patrick. But still… those magic moods.
CHAPTER FOUR
*
CHUMSWORTH
Jenna and Jessica were lying when they told Aunt Maud over the phone they enjoyed having Beatrice stay with them. Jessica nearly slipped up by asking Aunt Maud if she fancied taking Beatrice back. ‘Ouch!’ said Jessica, as Jenna gave her a sharp nudge in her side, which prompted Jessica to cover up. ‘It’s because she misses you… I think…’
Aunt Maud then told the girls that she and Uncle Patrick were at a fancy restaurant because they needed a break from lying on the beach all day. ‘It’s exhausting work, sunbathing,’ Aunt Maud said. ‘Honestly, I’ve never known exercise like it. You literally start sweating just by lying there.’
She also told the girls that the blackbirds that followed them had finally come into good use as they provided more shade around their hotel. The phone call didn’t last long. Aunt Maud had to rush off because Uncle Patrick had forgotten to order her a pudding on top of his five.
With their new guest staying, the Tipple twins had tried to get on as best they could with Beatrice. They nodded and smiled in the right places, which became quite depressing, to put it mildly. Not to mention the fact that one night they had caught Beatrice chasing Boo around her room, trying to use his loose ends as a blanket for her feet.
‘You stupid white lump of nothing!’ she cursed when she couldn’t get her way. Boo hid in the wardrobe for a whole week afterwards.
Now it was the night before they started Chumsworth. The twins brushed their teeth looking at each other (instead of in the mirror) and tucked themselves up in their beds facing each other so they could fall asleep knowing what the other twin was doing.
Jessica had forgotten to take her odd socks off before jumping into bed, which usually would have bothered Jenna to breaking point, but the pair were so excited about the new emerald-green school uniforms that were laid out in front of them that nothing was going to bring them down. They had never worn a school uniform before. Gospel Glums made pupils wear their normal everyday clothes. Mr and Mrs Wilson had once stopped on their way to the car and stood stiffly, looking at the twins’ colourful clothes they had chosen for school. Mr Wilson blocked Mrs Wilson’s view with his chubby hands and said, ‘What’s this thing people call colour? Makes me feel strange.’
But the new school they were attending was different. The new school was strict. The new school didn’t mess about when it came to order and principle. Chumsworth was the school every mother wanted their child to go to, and it had a headmistress called Miss Snippings, which was a very respectful name indeed.
‘Don’t go,’ whispered Boo from under Jessica’s bed.
‘What do you mean, don’t go?’ asked Jenna.
‘I don’t like it. It’s not safe. It’s not safe,’ said Boo, who seemed to be having a moment of panic.
‘Boo, what are you talking about?’
Boo floated out from under Jessica’s bed. ‘It’s dark, I tell you. Really dark.’
‘What is?’ demanded Jenna.
‘Chumsworth… Chumsworth school!’
‘Don’t be silly, Boo. Chumsworth’s the best sch—’
‘No, no, it’s not. Not for you two. It’s black. I see black!’
‘What do you mean, Boo?’
‘Suffocating… I can’t breathe… You can’t breathe… Or someone else…’
‘Boo, you’re scaring me,’ whimpered Jessica.
‘Promise me you won’t go?’
‘We can’t, Boo. We have to go. You know we do,’ said Jenna.
‘Then I’ll be waiting every day for you to come home.’
‘Yes, Boo. And we’ll come and find you every day.’
This seemed to relax Boo a little, but it didn’t stop him whispering a few words. ‘Black, black walls, tightening… can’t breathe…’
As the twins closed their eyes, little did they know that the blackbird perched on the chest of drawers had been there since the first morning it had arrived. It watched them silently and was still there the next morning when they awoke. They caught a glimpse of it from the corner of their eyes but thought nothing of it.
*
The September sun shone in the twins’ eyes as they sat up the next morning. Nearly falling out of bed with excitement, Jenna and Jessica Tipple got up and continued their daily ritual of getting dressed together. It had been a long time since they had woken up feeling anything other than guilt about the fact their sister got taken and not them, and as a result it made all the furniture and other objects in their room dance and float in the air, lights switch on and off, and curtains open and close repeatedly.
‘Must you go? I mean, really go?’ asked Boo.
‘Oh not this again,’ said Jenna, sighing.
‘But the darkness… it’s the darkness. Shadows over walls…’
‘Boo!’ shouted Jenna. ‘This has to stop. Until you can tell us exactly what it is.’
‘But I can’t. I don’t know myself.’
‘Well why don’t we take you with us?’ said Jessica. ‘Will that make you feel better?’
‘As if!’ said Jenna. ‘If we take Boo in, not only will we get into trouble, but nobody, and I mean nobody, is going to want to be our friend. Not when they see us rocking up with a dead person.’
‘Nobody is going to want to be our friend anyway, Jenna, whether we turn up with a ghost or not. Everybody thinks we’re weird.’ She then turned to Boo. ‘Remember, Boo, we’ll find you when we get home
,’ said Jessica softly. They then left Boo and they went downstairs.
Without Aunt Maud’s magic zap to help with Beatrice’s weight over the last couple of months, Beatrice sat at the breakfast table looking quite deformed, with a half-skinny, half-fat body.
‘Fancy a banana, Beatrice?’ Mrs Tipple hinted, as she jerked her head around the kitchen door, looking red-faced and rather sweaty and holding a large parcel. ‘Guess where this has just come from?’ she snapped as she slammed down the heavy parcel and wiped the sweat off her nose. ‘This has just fallen from the sky in front of our house. Do you know how lucky we are that the neighbours didn’t see! I mean, it’s just ridiculous! Last week a parcel landed in the chimney, and the other day one actually walked to the door itself and knocked! Beatrice, you really need to stop telling your parents we’re depriving you of luxuries in this house! Not only are they using their…’ she lowered her voice, ‘their you know what to deliver them, but we don’t know where they’re getting them from!’ She then paused awkwardly when she saw that Beatrice had planted herself in Caitlyn’s old chair.
Mrs Tipple tried to encourage Beatrice to shuffle along, and when this didn’t work she resorted to speaking to her like a baby. ‘You know, Beatrice, you’re more than welcome to sit on the sofa in front of the tele and eat your brekky… or in your room maybe? Or how about outside with the birdies?’ She gave up quickly when she saw that the blackbird in Jenna and Jessica’s bedroom had in fact followed them down the stairs and was trying to sit on her shoulder. ‘Oh for goodness’ sake, what’s the reason behind this?’
After breakfast, Beatrice opened her package, which contained a PlayStation and some games. By the time Mrs Tipple was ready to kiss them goodbye, Jenna, Jessica and Cousin Beatrice had already stumbled out of the front door, getting stuck, as arms and legs waved in every direction in a desperate attempt to try to be the first one out.
The Tipple Twins and the Gift Page 3
