Poppy's Garden

by Holly Webb

  Poppy happily scribbled away, drawing Sophia dying in her painter’s arms, and then her ghost, still in the green dress, walking over the surface of the lake.

  “We can call her the Green Lady,” Poppy muttered happily to herself. She put the laptop down on the floor next to her bed and then rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. Now she just had to work out a way to use her ghost to scare Ali.

  It had been such a strange few days, eerie and horrible, and she was still dreaming about the shadow, and waking up in the middle of the night. Poppy yawned. Her bed was so comfortable, and the room was warm.

  A thin green figure danced across the water, darting in and out of the sunny patches and the reeds around the lake, her green dress merging into the tall stems. She fluttered and blinked in and out as the light caught her, and Poppy strained her eyes to see.

  The figure came gradually closer, stretching her hands to Poppy. It was hard to see her face – she was like a flickery reflection on the water instead of a proper solid person, but Poppy was sure that she was smiling. Poppy was quite certain that she was a ghost – her Green Lady, but she wasn’t frightened. Sophia wanted to help…

  Poppy blinked and yawned, and stared at the ceiling in puzzlement, still seeing faint greenish patterns behind her eyes. She’d been dreaming…

  Then she remembered what she’d been dreaming about, and sat up with a start. She’d imagined herself an awfully real-looking ghost. But even though she’d hated the thought of pretending to be a witch, she was actually looking forward to this now. She’d made Sophia’s story up, so it was silly to feel that Sophia approved of what they were going to do, but Poppy couldn’t help it. That flittery greenish figure had been laughing. She wanted Poppy to get back at Ali, just as she’d wanted to get back at her bullying father in Poppy’s story.

  And Poppy’s dream had told her exactly how to do it too – the first part of it anyway. She just needed to get herself and Iz and Maya and Emily somewhere Ali could hear them, and tell them all about her dream.

  “Well, it tasted horrible,” Poppy said, glaring at Emily, who was smirking at her and trying to make her giggle. “But you have to put up with that kind of thing. They’re very powerful herbs, and they make it absolutely certain you’ll have true dreams. Is she listening?” she added to Izzy in the breath of a whisper.

  “Oh, definitely,” Izzy whispered back, looking cautiously sideways round the seat of the coach. “They all are. So what did you see?” she asked more loudly.

  “A figure…” Poppy hissed dramatically. “Dressed in green, floating across a stretch of water – but it was strange; the water was an odd colour, almost golden.” She paused, and then stretched her foot under the seat in front to kick Emily, who’d missed her cue.

  “Oh!” Emily nodded. “Golden? That sounds like Amberlake, Poppy. It’s the stones around the edge of the lake – they’re a sort of yellowy colour, and it makes the water look amber. The house is named after it. Wow, isn’t it weird that you dreamed about Amberlake, when we’re going there!”

  Poppy shook her head. “Not really. I told you, that spell always gives you true dreams. Special ones. Almost more like a foretelling than a dream.”

  “Maybe you saw the Amberlake ghost!” Maya said excitedly, remembering her lines a bit better than Emily. They’d worked it all out, but it was harder to say the story naturally when they knew Ali and the other two were listening.

  “Is there one?” Izzy asked.

  “Oh yes!” Maya nodded. “I looked it up; we’ve got a National Trust guidebook. The ghost’s really famous – she’s called the Green Lady. She’s a girl who fell in love with someone she wasn’t allowed to marry, and then she died in a horrible accident by the lake. And now she haunts Amberlake, seeking revenge.”

  Poppy shuddered. She’d come up with this story but it sounded ever so real. “Revenge on who?” she asked, her voice rather squeaky. At least it would make it sound real to Ali too.

  Maya shook her head thoughtfully. “I’m not sure – I suppose her family, but they died hundreds of years ago now. You called her up, Poppy. Don’t you know?”

  Poppy swallowed. This was the important bit. “Not really. I know in the dream she wanted to help me – she stretched out her hands and smiled, and I was sure she was friendly. But I didn’t know about the revenge thing…” She paused, for just long enough, and then added, “I wonder what she’ll do?”

  “Oh look, look!” Emily whispered, peeping through the gap between the seats. “Ali’s gone white, and Lucy and Elspeth are arguing. Elspeth looks like she can see a ghost right now, walking down the bus to get her. Oh!” She whisked herself round as Lucy got up and called down the aisle.

  “Mr Finlay! Elspeth thinks she’s going to be sick!”

  “Awww, poor Elspeth!” Emily giggled.

  “Don’t forget the bag,” Izzy reminded Poppy.

  “It’s OK, I’ve got it. I’m still not sure it’s going to work though.” Poppy slung the bag over her shoulder. It had her lunch in it, but also a bundle of green silky fabric – a huge scarf that belonged to Maya’s mum. Poppy had been a bit worried about borrowing it, but Maya said her mum had so many clothes she probably wouldn’t even notice it had gone.

  “It will work,” Maya said definitely. “You didn’t see Ali’s face. I was watching, and she absolutely believed you. I told you they scared themselves with all those books. She’s been so awful to you, and now the Green Lady’s going to get her back.”

  Mr Finlay had explained to everyone on the trip that there would be a guided tour of the house first, and then a chance to explore in small groups. They had to meet back at the picnic area for lunch, and then Cam Morris himself was going to be there for the announcement at two o’clock.

  Usually, Poppy would have really enjoyed the house tour, but she was too bound up in their ghost story to pay much attention. At least their plan to get Ali back was stopping her being nervous about the announcement later on. The one thing she did really want to see was Sophia’s portrait – she was sure it would look very different full-size instead of as a little photo on Mum’s laptop.

  “Oh, look,” she whispered as they walked into one of the smaller drawing rooms, its walls papered in a green, leafy pattern. “That’s her!” She walked forward, hardly noticing the others around her. She’d almost expected to be disappointed, after thinking so much about Sophia and turning her into a ghost. Let alone that strange dream. But seeing the painting, she felt as though she knew Sophia, almost as well as she knew her best friends.

  “Wow, she looks like you,” Izzy whispered.

  “Does she?” Poppy asked, surprised.

  “Mmm. Izzy’s right,” Emily agreed. “Just give her some blue and green streaks and put her in a floaty sort of skirt and she’d look exactly like you.”

  Poppy went a little closer and lifted her hand, wishing she could stroke the surface of the painting – she was almost sure she’d be able to feel the stiff silk of Sophia’s dress or the warmth of her hand. But the guide was watching and she didn’t dare.

  Oddly enough, now that she saw the real painting, Sophia was smiling. Just a little. Her face was sad, but if you caught the portrait in the right light, there was a funny little quirk at the corner of her mouth.

  Poppy smiled back. It was going to work. Everything was going to be all right. Everything.

  “We should do it here,” she whispered to the others, glancing round and seeing Ali staring worriedly at the painting. Poppy smiled at her, a tiny smile like Sophia’s, and Ali’s eyes widened.

  “Not wait until we’re by the lake?” Izzy asked.

  “No. She isn’t going to go down to the lake, not if she’s got any sense, not after the story we told. Is she?”

  Emily scowled. “We should have thought of that.”

  Poppy shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’ll be easier inside anyway. Once we split up, I bet they’ll stay in the house.”

  Poppy was right. Most of the grou
p spilled outside as soon as the tour was over, desperate to go running across the lawns and explore the lakeside. Mr Finlay had given them all dire warnings about staying in groups and being back at the right time, but as they were the older ones they could explore without the teachers. Ali and Lucy and Elspeth gathered in a little huddle by the main hallway, obviously trying to work out where to go, and Poppy and the others sat outside, watching through the big windows, trying to work out when it was safe to dart back in and follow them.

  “Oh, they’re going back up the stairs!” Maya jumped up and they all hurried back into the hallway. “I think they’re going back to that little room with the painting! Ali saw you staring at it. She probably wants to look at it again and see if she can find out who it is.”

  Poppy nodded. Then she caught her breath excitedly, her eyes sparkling. “We can go the other way up the staircase and get there first. I bet we can. They think that painting’s the Green Lady, so let’s prove it!” She raced up the stairs, which divided halfway up to lead to the different sides of the house. The little green room was almost in the middle, its windows looking out on to the lake at the back of the house.

  They hurried through the rooms, slowing down to a polite walk every time they saw other visitors – the house was very busy with school groups, all there for the competition later on.

  “They aren’t here yet,” Poppy said with a gasp of relief as they darted into Sophia’s room. She yanked the gauzy scarf out of her bag, shaking it out so the folds shimmered and floated in the dusty air.

  Izzy shivered. “If I were Ali, I’d think that was a ghost,” she said. “And it feels like that painting’s watching.”

  Poppy nodded. “I know.” She hopped up on to the chair just beside the door, a wooden one for the guide to sit on. She just hoped no one else came by and caught them, that was all.

  “Get back against the walls!” Emily hissed. “I can hear them coming.”

  Maya darted to the windows, pulling the wooden shutters over to shut out some of the brightness in the room. Only thin beams of sunlight poured in now, dancing like spotlights, and Poppy nodded gratefully as Maya pressed herself against the wall with the others.

  “Don’t be stupid, Elspeth.” Ali sounded angry, and a little bit frightened. She’d never heard her sound frightened before, Poppy realised. Angry, but not scared, not even when Izzy had accidentally pulled her into a canal. Ali’s voice had gone all thin and sharp. “It isn’t real.”

  “It is!” Elspeth gasped. “I want to go home. We shouldn’t have started any of it. I hate it!”

  Emily nodded fiercely at Poppy, who shook out the scarf in the dimly lit doorway, letting it swirl and flicker like the ghost she’d seen dancing on the water in her dream.

  Outside in the passageway, someone screamed, and then there was a scuffling, and racing feet, and Ali and the others were gone.

  “I’m really nervous now,” Poppy muttered as Mr Finlay shepherded his pupils across the grass towards a big white tent. “The ghost story was stopping me being nervous, but now I think I might be sick.”

  “You won’t,” Emily told her. “Mrs Angel would kill you.”

  “Now I feel worse!” Poppy hissed.

  “Oh look, there’s Ali. Wow, look at Elspeth,” Izzy muttered. “I think she actually has been sick. She’s gone a really weird colour.”

  Poppy glanced sideways. Elspeth looked terrible – greyish white, with red eyes. She felt guilty for a minute, and then remembered the shadow spell. “It’s her own fault,” she muttered.

  “It is,” Izzy said firmly. “They shouldn’t have done it to you first. About time someone got their own back, I say.”

  Poppy nodded. Ali had bullied Izzy for years. She’d done really horrible things to her, and Lucy and Elspeth had gone along with it. They deserved to be miserable for a bit. And it probably won’t last, she added to herself with a sigh.

  “Come on, Poppy. You have to be up at the front with the other designers.” Mr Finlay hustled her forward, and Poppy just had time to make a panicked face at Izzy and the others.

  There was a small group of children up at the front, definitely neater-looking than most of the others, as though the staff who came with them had made them tidy themselves up for the announcement. Poppy’s mum had made her put on her nicest school skirt and the least paint-stained of her jumpers this morning, but some of these children looked as though they’d just been ironed. Poppy smoothed her skirt down and tried not to feel scruffy, and then giggled to herself. It probably wasn’t helpful for a garden designer to be neat. They ought to have muddy fingernails, and leaves all over their clothes. Besides, Cam Morris looked a lot scruffier than she did, Poppy realised, as he bounded on to the little platform. The knees of his jeans actually were muddy. They’d seen him in the distance while they were eating their lunch, and he’d been crouching down to look at something in one of the flowerbeds. He’d probably started off the day neat and tidy for the ceremony too…

  “Hello, all of you!” Cam Morris strode up and down the platform enthusiastically as he talked, and some of the girls closest squashed themselves back towards Poppy. He did look as though he was going to fall off if he wasn’t careful. “This is such an exciting day! Today we get to find out which one of the wonderful schools we’re going to be working with to build a fantastic new school garden. There were some brilliant designs. I’d like to build all of them, they were so imaginative. But we have to pick just one from this area. So – are you ready for the big announcement?”

  Everyone cheered, and he beamed down at them.

  “OK! I’ve got an envelope, somewhere…” He started to pat his pockets, until a patient-looking young man handed the envelope up to him. “Thanks! Yes – our winner is – Poppy Martin from Park Road School in Millford!”

  Poppy had been so convinced that she wouldn’t win – and so much more worried about Ali and spells and ghosts anyway – that she stared up at Cam Morris in disbelief, and didn’t move.

  “Poppy?” Cam Morris looked down at the group below him hopefully, and the other children glanced over their shoulders, wondering where she was. One of the smallest, tidiest girls was obviously about to burst into tears.

  Poppy went pink and edged her way to the front. “I’m here,” she said nervously.

  “Excellent!” Cam Morris bounded over to shake her hand and pull her up the stairs on to the platform, and Poppy gulped as she saw her design appear on the screen at the back.

  “Poppy’s design is really original – elements of a medieval herb garden, combined with a modern sensory garden. And lots of brilliant ideas about using produce from the garden for school meals, plus some fantastic wildlife-friendly bits too. I’m amazed you managed to fit it all in, Poppy! And it still looks like a beautiful design! Really well done. You’ve obviously got a wonderful imagination.”

  Poppy smiled down at her feet, remembering the Green Lady. Perhaps she did have rather a good imagination, actually…

  “So they’re going to start building it next week?” Izzy’s dad asked, looking interested. “Wow, they’re moving fast. It’s a nice time to start though, April. You’ll be able to put vegetable plants out soon, and you’ll have it looking great through the summer.”

  “They want to film all the gardens being made so that they can start to show the series on TV in September,” Poppy said rather shyly – she didn’t want to sound as though she was showing off. She and Mr Finlay had been given all sorts of information after the ceremony. Even Mr Finlay had looked a bit overwhelmed by it all. “The garden designer from Growing Up is coming to school tomorrow to look at the place where the garden’s going to be. And then they’re going to send a team of people with diggers and things in over the weekend. Mrs Angel had to send in a photo of the site with the design, you see. So they know what they’ve got to do to it.”

  “I suppose they’ve got to get rid of all the tarmac,” Izzy said, nodding. The Year Six classrooms had been built on to the original sch
ool, and only that strange little bit of playground had been left round the edge.

  Poppy nodded. It was hard to believe it was going to happen – that people were coming to tear up part of the playground, all because of her. And that her garden was going to be real…

  “Mr Finlay?” Poppy looked at their teacher hopefully. Sometimes it was hard to tell if he was going to agree to something or not. “When the garden designer comes this afternoon, can Izzy come and help me talk to her as well?”

  Mr Finlay looked surprised. “Why, Poppy? You’re not usually shy. In fact, Izzy’s usually the one who finds it hard to talk to people.”

  “It isn’t that…” Poppy nibbled her bottom lip. She didn’t want to explain about Ali’s teasing, and the way she’d given up on her design way back at the beginning. For a start, it made her feel really stupid thinking about it now – she couldn’t believe she’d let Ali push her around like that. But also because the Green Lady trick seemed to have really got to the three girls. Lucy looked pale and Elspeth hadn’t even come to school today. Ali looked twitchy, and when George banged the door of the books cupboard, Poppy had seen her jump and shoot back in her chair, her eyes really wide and dark.

  “Izzy persuaded me the design was good,” she explained. “I wasn’t going to send it in. I even threw it away! She took it out of the bin, and it had juice and chocolate all over it, so she and Maya and Emily tried to copy it out for me.”

  Mr Finlay stared at her. “Why didn’t you think it was any good?” he asked, sounding shocked.

  Poppy shrugged. “I don’t really know a lot about gardens,” she explained. “Izzy told me some of the wildlife ideas too, when we were talking about it in class. And her dad showed me some books.”

  Mr Finlay smiled. “You’re a good team, all four of you. I should think it’s OK if Izzy helps. You do realise they’re going to film this, don’t you?” he added.