The little bed was just Twink’s size, though it felt hard and strange until Lindsay tucked her up in something called a ‘mitten’. ‘Are you all right in there?’ she asked, peering in at Twink.
‘Perfect,’ sighed Twink, nestling down into the soft red material. ‘Goodnight, Lindsay – see you in the morning!’
Twink thought she’d fall asleep immediately, but instead she lay awake for a long time, staring up at the doll’s house ceiling. What a day it had been! She felt exhausted from all the emotions and new discoveries.
Most of all, she longed to be back with her family. They must be so worried about her by now! And poor Bimi – she probably thought it was all her fault for not stopping the human from taking Twink in the first place.
Don’t worry, everyone, thought Twink. I’ll be home soon!
Just before she drifted off, her thoughts wandered back to the Christmas tree sparkling downstairs. Who would have thought that humans would treat the trees they chopped down so lovingly, and decorate them so beautifully? Twink snuggled drowsily into the mitten. It was such a mystery . . . and the more Lindsay tried to explain, the more puzzling the whole thing became.
‘You’re still here!’ hissed an excited voice.
‘Oh!’ Twink jolted awake as she saw Lindsay staring in at her, a huge grin on her face. Yawning, Twink crawled out of the mitten and stretched her wings. ‘Of course I’m still here,’ she said tetchily. ‘I’m stuck, remember?’
Lindsay looked embarrassed. ‘I know – I just thought maybe I’d dreamed you. Here, do you want some breakfast?’ She offered Twink another bit of chocolate.
Wishing that she had a thistle comb to groom her long pink hair, Twink accepted, sitting on the doll’s house floor to eat. Never mind – her hair wouldn’t stay tidy for long anyway if she was going to be riding a bird!
Twink’s heart quickened at the thought. ‘What time is it?’ she asked, licking the last bit of chocolate from her fingers.
‘Six o’clock,’ said Lindsay, her eyes shining with excitement. ‘It’s still dark outside!’
A few minutes later Lindsay and Twink were sneaking down the stairs, Lindsay tiptoeing slowly while Twink flitted by her side. Lindsay eased open the downstairs door, and the two of them slipped into the lounge.
‘Shh, Clarence. Be quiet!’ whispered Lindsay as the black dog came trotting over. Twink stiffened as he caught sight of her. Oh no! He’d start barking and wake up Lindsay’s parents!
But Lindsay grabbed Clarence by the collar and looked him in the eye. ‘Twink is a friend,’ she said sternly. ‘Do you understand, Clarence? She’s a friend, so you’re not to bark at her!’
Fairy and dog stared doubtfully at each other. Twink put on a friendly smile. She thought the dog didn’t seem at all convinced, but then the tip of his tail wagged.
‘See, he likes you,’ said Lindsay.
Twink grinned. Flitting forward, she stroked the dog’s silky ear. ‘Good dog,’ she said – and then shrieked as he turned and licked her! ‘Oh!’ she gasped, gazing down at her rose-petal dress. She was drenched!
Lindsay burst into giggles. ‘He really likes you!’
She took Twink into the kitchen, and ran something called a ‘tap’ for her so that Twink could wash in the warm water. Afterwards, Twink dried herself on a cloth that Lindsay said was used for dishes.
‘The birds should be up by now,’ said Twink. She could just see the first rays of the sun shining through the window.
Lindsay nodded. ‘Come on!’
She led the way into what she called a ‘conservatory’. Twink’s heart lifted as she spotted the garden beyond. She’d been starting to think there was no greenery at all in Lindsay’s world, but here it was: the rectangular space was filled with grass and flower beds, and even a birch tree!
‘There’s Mum’s bird feeder,’ said Lindsay, pointing. The stand in the centre of the garden had a feeding-station on its top. Already dozens of birds were squabbling over its seeds, flapping and fluttering.
‘You stay here,’ whispered Twink. ‘They’ll fly away if they see you.’ Suddenly she realised that this was farewell. She hovered uncertainly. ‘Well – goodbye, Lindsay. Thank you for everything.’
‘That’s OK,’ said Lindsay, struggling to smile. ‘Goodbye, Twink – I’ll never forget you.’ She cracked open the conservatory door. Taking a deep breath, Twink flew outside.
Chapter Six
There were all sorts of birds gathered around the feeder, from magpies and starlings down to tiny little tits. And one of the tits was grey and yellow, just like Sunny!
Twink smiled. Tits might not be as powerful as larger birds, but if this one was anything like Sunny, he’d make up for it with his eagerness to please. She flew quickly to the bird feeder, landing on the perch beside him.
‘Hello!’ she said. The birds all stopped quarrelling and gaped at her. The tit looked astonished, puffing out its yellow chest feathers in alarm.
‘Er . . . I’m sure you’ve all seen a fairy before,’ said Twink, suddenly not sure at all. Maybe these birds had only ever seen humans. Still, fairies got on with all creatures – after all, taking care of nature was their job!
‘I need a lift home,’ continued Twink. She hesitated. Could the birds even understand her? ‘It’s miles and miles away, and I can’t fly there on my own. So – can I ride on one of you?’
The birds rustled, glancing at each other. Twink looked directly at the tit. ‘Will you help me?’ she asked.
He cocked his head to one side, regarding her with dark, intelligent eyes.
‘Please!’ added Twink, moving closer to him. From the corner of her gaze, she could just see Lindsay, watching open-mouthed from the conservatory.
The tit didn’t move away, and Twink studied his sleek grey back. She hadn’t thought of the fact that there was no saddle. How would she hold on?
Well, there was only one way to find out. Twink fluttered just above the tit and settled herself behind his wings. His feathers felt smooth as glass. Holding on as best she could, Twink gave Lindsay a quick grin and a wave.
‘Up!’ she said, clutching the bird’s neck.
The tit craned his head to stare at her. His expression didn’t look very friendly.
‘Up,’ repeated Twink. She nudged him with her knees. ‘Please!’ she added. But the tit seemed to shrink sulkily in on himself, folding his wings tightly against his back. Nothing Twink could say or do would make him move.
Finally she climbed down from his back, red-cheeked. What a moss brain she must have looked! The moment she was off, the tit flew away as fast as he could. Twink sighed, and looked at the other birds.
Perhaps the magpie? It would be much harder to hold on to – they were so big! – but it would get her home even faster.
However, the magpie was an even worse disaster than the tit had been. The moment he felt Twink sitting on his back, he gave an outraged ‘Squaawwkkk! ’ and rocketed straight up into the air. The other birds flapped away in a startled explosion.
‘Aargh!’ shrieked Twink, struggling to hang on. ‘Stop!’ The magpie shot up to the birch tree, and Twink ducked just in time to avoid being hit by a branch.
The bird plunged and dived wildly, clearly intent on throwing her off. It was like trying to ride a hurricane! With a yelp, Twink went tumbling through the air, arms and legs flailing.
In a flurry of wings, she caught herself and hovered, watching dejectedly as the magpie flapped away. The rest of the birds were gone as well, and the bird feeder looked sad and abandoned. Tears stung Twink’s eyes. What now?
The back door opened and Lindsay ran outside, shivering in her thin nightdress.
‘Twink, what happened?’ she cried, holding out her hand.
Twink landed lightly on her palm. ‘I – I suppose the birds that we fly are specially trained. These don’t seem to have the hang of it.’ That was an understatement! If the situation hadn’t been so serious, she’d have burst into giggles.
‘Oh.’ Lindsa
y looked troubled. ‘Then . . . how are you going to get home?’
‘I don’t know,’ Twink whispered. She rubbed her lavender wings together. ‘Oh, Lindsay, I don’t know!’
The next few days passed dismally for Twink. Though Lindsay did everything she could think of to cheer her up – bringing her delicious morsels to nibble, talking with her for hours, even playing games – all Twink could think of was her family, trying to find her.
‘I know,’ said Lindsay sympathetically. ‘It must be awful.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve been trying and trying to get Dad to drive me to the farm, but he’s told me not to nag him any more. And Mum says he means it, and that I should stop talking about it.’
Twink sighed. ‘Well – thanks anyway.’
She was sitting on the first floor of the doll’s house, with her legs dangling over the side. She and Lindsay had decided it was the safest place for her: if one of Lindsay’s parents came in it would look like Lindsay was just playing with her dolls.
Now Lindsay gave Twink a sidelong look. ‘Twink . . . can I ask you something?’
‘Of course,’ said Twink, stretching her wings. Apart from anything else, she was bored. She had never spent so long cooped up in one place in her life!
‘Well . . .’ Lindsay traced a finger on the carpet. ‘You know what you told me about trees having personalities, and sometimes dryads? Is that really true?’
‘Yes!’ exclaimed Twink in surprise. ‘And that’s not all. Why, we have water sprites living in our school pond, and my father even met a faun once – though I think they’re pretty rare now.’
Lindsay’s eyes shone. ‘There really is magic, isn’t there? No matter what the grown-ups say.’
Twink swung her legs. ‘The grown-ups in my world would never say such a daft thing! Yes, of course there’s magic.’
‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell Dad,’ said Lindsay. ‘That maybe there really is magic, and maybe the trees are part of it, somehow, and so we shouldn’t cut them down.’ She sighed. ‘But he doesn’t seem to be listening.’
Impulsively, Twink flew out of the doll’s house. ‘Thank you for trying,’ she said, brushing her wing against Lindsay’s cheek. ‘It means a lot, Lindsay – it really does!’
‘That’s OK,’ said Lindsay, the tips of her ears turning bright red. ‘But you know what, Twink?’ she added. ‘Christmas is magic, too! It gives me the same sort of feeling that thinking about dryads does: all sort of tingly inside.’
Christmas was magic? Twink blinked in surprise. But humans didn’t have magic. What was Lindsay talking about?
‘Well –’ She stopped, not wanting to hurt Lindsay’s feelings.
‘And it’s almost here – tomorrow’s Christmas Eve!’ Lindsay drummed her feet on the floor. ‘Oh, I can hardly wait!’
Twink smiled, glad she hadn’t said anything. She had no idea why Lindsay was so excited . . . but it was nice to see her friend happy!
That night Twink sat perched on the window sill long after Lindsay had fallen asleep, staring out at the dark houses. What was her family doing right now? Were they still searching for her, or had they given up? After all, days and days had passed – they might imagine she was gone for good by now.
No! She couldn’t think like that, or else she’d give up entirely! Shoving the unpleasant thought away, Twink flitted to the bedroom door and listened. The house was silent. Slipping underneath the door, Twink flew downstairs and into the lounge.
‘Hi, Clarence,’ she whispered when the dog came padding over. He gave her a soft, companionable woof, wagging his tail.
Skimming across the darkened room to the tree, Twink landed beside the box-like thing that controlled the lights. Using all her strength, she jumped as hard as she could on to the switch.
The tree erupted into a dazzle of sparkling white. Twink sank back on her heels, drinking it in as it flashed and glittered.
She wasn’t really sure why she’d started sneaking downstairs to admire the tree. It had started when she couldn’t sleep a few nights ago . . . and ever since then, she’d savoured the secret time that she spent down here. The tree was so beautiful – even if she still didn’t understand why the humans did it.
Flying up into the branches, Twink settled beside the fairy with holly-leaf wings and hugged her knees to her chest. Her parents must be so worried about her. If only she could get a message to them!
But how could she? Fairies always used butterflies to send messages to each other, but Twink knew they were specially chosen, sprinkled with fairy dust. Ordinary butterflies were all hibernating now. Getting a message to her family was hopeless!
Unless . . . Twink gasped as a memory came to her. When she’d been a first-year pupil, she’d befriended a wasp called Stripe, who had called to her with his mind when he’d needed help. Miss Shimmery, their HeadFairy, had explained it was the magic of friendship that made it possible.
Twink’s heart beat wildly. Could she do the same thing? Maybe if she tried calling to Bimi, her best friend would hear her! Closing her eyes, Twink thought fervently, Bimi, it’s me! I’m trapped in a human house, but I’m all right. Please tell my parents that I’m OK, and I’m trying to get home!
Over and over, Twink thought the words, sending them out with as much force as she could muster. She imagined Bimi receiving them, and the mix of relief and concern that would be on her best friend’s face as she realised the trouble Twink was in.
Finally Twink stopped, holding her breath. She knew Bimi would certainly call back if she had heard her. Please, Bimi, answer me, she thought.
She waited for a long time, hopeful and alert. But no answer came. There was only the slight sound of Clarence’s snores, and the occasional sound of cars passing outside.
At last Twink’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Well, that was that. And she had tried so hard! Maybe calling with your mind only worked between a fairy and a wasp.
Looking out of the window, Twink saw the winter stars fading from the sky. She must have been trying to call Bimi for ages. She tapped the fairy decoration, and watched her holly wings sparkle as she swung back and forth.
‘Stupid of me, eh?’ she whispered.
The painted fairy didn’t respond. Twink sighed. It was back to the doll’s house, then. And she might as well get used to it – it looked as if she was going to be living there for a long time!
Chapter Seven
‘I’ve got something for you,’ said Lindsay.
Twink looked up. It was the next afternoon, and she was sitting perched on the doll’s house chimney, trying not to feel sorry for herself.
‘What?’ she asked, managing a smile.
Lindsay drew a hand out from behind her back. ‘Ta-da!’ she said.
Twink’s eyes widened. Lindsay was holding out a slim, gaily-wrapped package half as tall as Twink, decorated with a gleaming golden bow.
‘What is it?’ she asked in wonder.
‘A Christmas present, silly!’ Lindsay giggled. ‘I know today’s only Christmas Eve – but – oh, Twink, just open it!’
Maybe it was something to help her get home! Leaping to her feet, Twink held out both hands as Lindsay gave her the package – and then stared blankly at its clear, sticky fastening.
‘Here, I’ll do it!’ cried Lindsay. She tore open the package as Twink fluttered beside her, craning to see. ‘There!’ said the girl with a triumphant grin.
Twink’s spirits fell. It was only a comb – a tiny white one, made of that material called ‘plastic’ humans were so fond of. She smiled weakly. ‘Lindsay, thank you! Where did you get it?’
‘It’s for one of my dolls,’ explained Lindsay. ‘I just found it again this morning. Here, try it!’
Though much too small for a human, Twink still had to use both hands to draw the comb through her long pink hair. Even so, it felt lovely to groom it – she had been feeling as scruffy as an old crow.
‘Thanks, Lindsay,’ she said again, meaning it this time. ‘It was really nice o
f you to think of me.’
Lindsay sat cross-legged on the carpet as she watched Twink comb her hair. ‘I just wish I could help you get home again,’ she sighed. ‘Oh, it’s not fair. Wishes should always come true at Christmas!’
‘They should?’ Twink looked up with interest. This was an aspect of Christmas that she hadn’t heard about.
Lindsay nodded. ‘Yes, of course! Why, whenever Santa comes, he –’ Suddenly she stopped, her hands flying up to her mouth. ‘Twink, that’s it! Santa!’
‘Who’s Santa?’ asked Twink.
Lindsay’s green-brown eyes grew wide. ‘Santa Claus! Don’t you know? He’s the spirit of Christmas!’
Wonder tickled across Twink’s wings. ‘He is?’
‘Yes!’ exclaimed Lindsay. ‘Santa can do anything. All you have to do is wait up tonight and ask him to take you home again, and he’ll do it, I know he will!’
Twink gaped at her. ‘You mean he’s coming here?’
Lindsay’s words tumbled over each other as she explained about the red-suited, white-bearded man called Santa – also known as Father Christmas – who travelled to every human’s house on Christmas Eve, delivering presents to all the children.
‘Flying reindeer? ’ Twink felt as if her eyes might pop out of her head. She had never imagined such powerful magic!
Lindsay nodded vehemently. ‘Yes, and the one who flies at the head of the sleigh is called Rudolph, and he has a red nose . . . though that bit might just be a story.’ She made a face. ‘My friend Sarah says it’s all a story, but she’s wrong. Santa comes every year, he really does!’
Hope fizzed through Twink like sparkling dew. ‘But Lindsay, why haven’t we fairies ever heard of Santa Claus?’ she asked.
Lindsay shrugged. ‘Maybe he’s just for humans. But Twink, I’m sure he’ll help you as well – he’s ever so kind!’
Twink spent the rest of the day in an agony of anticipation. Wouldn’t night-time ever come? The minute hand on Lindsay’s clock was creeping as slowly as a snail!
Christmas Fairy Page 4
