by David Elvar
The gnome vanished. His door vanished, and Naomi did her best to look innocent.
‘She’ll be here soon,’ she said brightly.
‘Don’t we know it!’ groaned her dad. ‘I wish there was some way to put a stop to these monthly visits, I really do.’
‘Oh, I’m sure something can be arranged,’ Naomi said carefully.
Her mum and dad looked at her, puzzled. They also looked as though they wanted to ask her what she meant by that but, at that very moment, the doorbell rang. Her mum gritted her teeth and opened the front door to a large lady with dyed blonde hair, wearing a flowery dress and a floppy hat.
‘Aunt Mabel!’ she said. ‘How lovely to see you again!’
‘Oh, what a journey!’ Aunt Mabel replied. ‘First the taxi was late and the trains were late and there was no buffet car so I couldn’t even get a cup of tea and then the train was made even more late because a cow had strayed into the line just outside the station and I’m sure farmers don’t look after their animals as well as they used to but anyway, how are you all?’
‘We’re fine,’ said Naomi’s dad. ‘How about—’
‘Oh, don’t ask!’ said Aunt Mabel, interrupting. ‘My feet are as bad as ever and I’m sure they don’t make shoes like they used to and I’ve half a mind to write to the makers because whenever I buy new shoes they pinch my toes something awful and don’t even get me started on the blisters they cause and you can never get the sizes you want and I’m sure I’m some kind of in-between size so it’s no surprise that I can’t find the shoes I want but anyway, I’m gasping for a cup of tea so is the kettle on?’
‘Right this way,’ said Naomi’s dad, taking advantage of Aunt Mabel pausing to take a breath. ‘Everything’s ready.’
As they ushered her into the living-room, Aunt Mabel started up again, her voice fading as she passed through the doorway.
‘I hope there’s a jam sponge because you know how much I like jam sponge especially if it’s raspberry but I’ll take strawberry and I know you know I don’t like marmalade in a sponge although come to think of it I don’t even like it on toast and did I ever tell you about the time my toaster caught fire and the Fire Brigade had to…’
When she’d gone, Naomi leaned close to the wall.
‘Psst!’ she whispered. ‘Are you there?’
No reply.
‘Hey!’ she said more loudly.
Still no reply. She banged on the wall. All at once, a door appeared in the wallpaper. It opened and the gnome appeared. He seemed to have something white and fluffy sticking out of his ears.
‘What’s that?’ she asked.
‘This?’ said the gnome, plucking the white from his ears. ‘Cotton wool. I had the sudden feeling I needed earplugs.’
‘I don’t blame you,’ said Naomi. ‘But do you see what I mean about Aunt Mabel?’
‘Only too well,’ said the gnome. ‘I’ll get to work.’
SEVEN
In the living-room, Naomi slid into an armchair just as Aunt Mabel was launching into a long speech about…Oh no!…her last trip to the hairdressers! The tea had been poured, the cake had been cut and Aunt Mabel was taking up most of the sofa as she balanced cup and saucer in one hand, plate and cake in the other.
‘—wouldn’t believe the trouble I had,’ she was saying. ‘I said to the girl I wanted my usual blonde colour but a little darker and she said if I wanted it a bit darker then it wasn’t my usual colour so I’d have to choose from what she had available and—’
Naomi gritted her teeth and wondered when the gnome would start doing his stuff. After a few minutes, she wondered even more. And after a few minutes longer, she stopped wondering and began to understand. Her parents were watching Aunt Mabel, and because they were watching Aunt Mabel, they would then see the gnome as he opened his door to do his stuff. She needed to create a distraction.
‘Do you like your cake, Aunt Mabel?’ she said, interrupting her.
‘Do I like it?’ Aunt Mabel repeated. ‘Well…I’m not sure. I mean, I haven’t even started it yet but it looks delicious so maybe I should try it but did I ever tell about the time I tried making a cake—’
‘Is it a big enough slice?’ said Naomi, interrupting again. ‘There’s plenty there if it isn’t. Take a look at how much is left, if you don’t believe me.’
Automatically, they all looked at the cake. As they did so, Naomi watched the wall carefully. Sure enough, a door quickly appeared, opened, and a small figure darted out, grabbed Aunt Mabel’s slice of cake and took a bite out of it. A big one. Then it put the cake back on the plate and vanished again.
‘As you say, Naomi,’ said Aunt Mabel, ‘there’s plenty left so I’ll just eat this and help myself to another slice if nobody minds because I’m still hungry from that long train journey and—’
She stopped…picked up her cake…and squinted at it. It seemed she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
‘There’s a bite taken out of it!’ she exclaimed.
‘Really?’ said Naomi’s mum.
‘Never!’ said Naomi’s dad. Naomi said nothing.
‘Yes!’ said Aunt Mabel, holding up her cake for all to see. ‘Look!’
‘Are you sure you didn’t take a quick bite without thinking?’ Naomi said innocently.
‘I suppose I must have done,’ said Aunt Mabel, puzzled. ‘Though I can’t think when because I’ve been too busy telling you about the girl at the hairdressers and—’
‘Maybe it’s just a hole that runs all through the cake,’ Naomi said next, interrupting again. ‘Maybe we’d better take a look.’
They took a look. As they did so, the same thing happened. The gnome appeared, snatched the cake from its plate, took another large bite and disappeared again, all without anyone seeing.
‘Looks okay to me,’ said Naomi’s mum.
‘Then I must indeed have taken that bite without knowing it, like Naomi says,’ said Aunt Mabel. ‘Oh well, I’ll finish it and have that other slice.’
She picked up her cake, but again, instead of eating it, she looked at it in horror.
‘I don’t believe it!’ she cried. ‘There’s another bite taken out of it!’
‘Are you sure you didn’t take another quick bite without thinking?’ Naomi said innocently.
‘Of course I’m sure!’ said Aunt Mabel. ‘I was too busy telling you about the first bite.’
‘I’ll get you another slice,’ said Naomi’s mum, getting up. ‘Naomi, would you make some more tea, please?’
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I’d be glad to.’
Out in the kitchen, she leaned close to the wall and whispered loudly, ‘Psst! Are you there?’
Almost immediately, a door appeared and the gnome was there.
‘Going well, isn’t it,’ he said.
‘It is,’ she agreed. ‘But we need something a little special to happen, I think, before she’ll leave and never come back.’
‘Hmm,’ said the gnome. He thought for a moment. ‘Hand me the marmalade, would you?’
‘The marmalade?’ she repeated.
‘The marmalade,’ he said again.
She shrugged and opened the larder, found the right jar and handed it to him.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘See you back there.’
The door slammed shut, leaving her to wonder just what he was up to.
EIGHT
Back in the living-room, Naomi set a full teapot down on the coffee-table. But nobody took any notice of her: Aunt Mabel was now busily telling her parents about the price of cream cakes in her local supermarket and it was terrible because cream cakes were an essential and no one could possibly do without them and—but Naomi just sat down again, knowing she would have to do a little more distracting.
‘Did you get your cake, Aunt Mabel?’ she asked, interrupting again.
‘What?’ said Aunt Mabel. ‘Oh yes, thank you but I still haven’t tried it but it looks delicious and it’s a huge slice your mummy has cut for me and�
��’
‘Well, mum did make a big cake,’ said Naomi, seizing her opportunity. ‘Just take a look at the size of it.’
They took a look at the size of it. And as they did so, the door appeared, the gnome appeared. But this time, he didn’t take a bite out of Aunt Mabel’s cake. All Naomi saw was a quick flash of marmalade on a knife and the gnome was suddenly gone.
‘As you say, Naomi, it is a big cake,’ said Aunt Mabel, and she went to take a bite of hers. She picked it up…stopped…and let out a horrified shriek.
‘Marmalade!’ she cried. ‘On my cake! And I hate marmalade!’
‘Well, don’t blame me,’ said Naomi’s mum. ‘I didn’t put it there.’
‘Nor me,’ said her dad. Naomi said nothing.
‘Well, this is the last straw!’ said Aunt Mabel. ‘Bites taken out of my cake…now marmalade spread on it…I’m leaving!’
She got up.
‘Please don’t go,’ said Naomi’s mum, half-heartedly.
‘No, we’d love you to stay,’ said her dad, just as half-heartedly.
‘No, I’m going!’ said Aunt Mabel. She made for the door, the rest of them in tow. ‘I’ll come back when there’s no cake-eating ghosts here and no marmalade.’
No one was watching the wall. Except Naomi. She saw the door appear then a familiar little figure leaning through it and looking oddly pleased with itself. It was holding something. It was holding an empty marmalade pot. Empty where she distinctly remembered it had been full. And this figure was pointing to Aunt Mabel’s upturned hat on the hall table and grinning pure mischief. And she understood.
‘I’ve never been so humiliated in my life!’ Aunt Mabel was saying now. ‘Well, you can be sure you won’t be getting the pleasure of my company again in a long while—’
She picked up her hat…
‘—not even if you make two jam sponges with raspberry jam—’
…and put it on…
‘—or even three jam sponges with one I can take home with me—’
…then patted it firmly down onto her head…
‘—and…and…’
…and she stopped talking. They all saw it. They saw a single thick blob of something sticky ooze out of her hat and drip down past her ear and onto her shoulder. They saw her horrified face turn to squint sidelong at it. And they saw her finger reach up…dab at it…then brush her tongue with it as she tasted what this sticky something might be. And she screamed.
‘Marmalade!’ she shrieked. ‘And I hate marmalade!’
She said no more, she just yanked the front door open and ran. Down the front path. Down the road. Until she was gone. Never to be seen again.
‘Come again soon,’ Naomi’s mum said quietly.
‘Missing you already,’ Naomi’s dad said just as quietly.
Naomi said nothing. She just glanced up at the wall beside her and saw the faint outline of a little door being pushed ajar then two old but very bright eyes peering out at her.
And she smiled.
~oOo~
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