Alice Parker's Metamorphosis (Book 1 of the new adventure series for children)

by Palmer, Nicola

  She led them to the stables, which they were dismayed to find empty, apart from a stable hand who looked suspiciously like a pixie.

  ‘The animals only come down here at night, for safety,’ he explained when he saw their disillusioned faces.

  Oddly, there was natural light in here coming through small shafts in the ceiling. Imogen opened some double doors which Alice had assumed housed a store cupboard. She stepped inside a pleasantly spacious lift and beckoned them in. It was big enough for a horse.

  ‘I much prefer this to the tree lift,’ said Alice in approval. The exit was not as pleasing, however. They stepped out into a dingy timber stable building in the corner of a field and could see the horses outside wearing their winter blankets. Imogen went to the door then turned to the girls.

  ‘Please stay calm. These creatures are very sensitive to emotions and don’t like any upset.’ She cupped her hands around her mouth and gave an unusual, low-pitched whistle. One of the horses, wearing a fancy headdress with a plume, trotted over obligingly. The other two looked over, but went back to grazing. Imogen led her into the stable then removed her blanket to show off her pure white coat. It was the smoothest, whitest hair imaginable. Where the winter sun touched it through the open door, it sparkled. She was the most stunning horse the girls had ever seen.

  ‘This is Guinevere,’ Imogen announced. ‘You can stroke her gently, if you like.’

  They certainly did like. Her coat was softer than velvet.

  ‘Why the plume?’ asked Alice. ‘Has she been in a show?’

  ‘Good gracious, no!’ replied Imogen, laughing. ‘She’d hate that. She has to wear it when she’s above ground, unfortunately. Remember what I said, no shrieking please, this may come as rather a shock.’

  Turning her back to the girls, she unfastened Guinevere’s headdress, removed it carefully and stepped aside. Sarah stumbled backwards and managed to grasp a trough to prevent herself from falling over. Her eyes were wide and bulging. Alice gasped but then couldn’t stop smiling.

  ‘She’s a unicorn!’ she whispered.

  ‘Indeed she is,’ said Imogen. ‘But no one else needs to know that, do they?’ She stroked Guinevere’s nose and replaced her headdress before getting the girls to stand next to her for a photograph. ‘Smile!’ she said needlessly, ‘This one’s to show Lucinda! Even with her horn covered, she will be the most beautiful creature she has encountered. You can tell her she belongs to you, Alice, but is in a secret location due to her value. That’s not untrue, she belongs to all of us and she is priceless.’

  ‘What if Lucinda wants to see her?’

  ‘That’s the whole idea. She’ll be so desperate to see her, she’ll do anything to be your friend, I’m sure. You’ll just have to keep her waiting.’

  ‘I see,’ said Alice slowly, not exactly thrilled at the prospect of deceiving two members of the Rowbottom family.

  ‘Brilliant!’ enthused Sarah.

  ‘I’ll leave it to you to explain how you came to own her,’ Imogen added. ‘Back down to the village, then.’

  The pixie-looking stable hand was replacing Guinevere’s blanket as they waved goodbye from the lift.

  ‘So, what’s next on the agenda?’ asked Alice as the doors closed.

  ‘Whatever it is, it won’t top that!’ said Sarah, ecstatic about meeting a unicorn.

  ‘You will have your robe fitted, Alice, while I print that picture,’ replied Imogen. She led them back through the underground stables and along the corridor to the door labelled ‘TAILOR AND FITTING ROOMS.’ She knocked on the door and peeped inside. ‘Here they are, Freya!’ she announced, showing them in. ‘I’ll see you in a few minutes,’ she said as she backed out of the door.

  Freya introduced herself to Sarah as she scurried around the room as quickly as she could, gathering up the fabric that was strewn all over the place. ‘Ooh, you’re going to love this, Alice,’ she said as she disappeared into a walk-in wardrobe. The girls chose two chairs from a row of half a dozen alongside an enormous mirror and sat down. There was an old-fashioned sewing machine on a table and several changing rooms with velvet curtains. Sarah was in raptures, her eyes trying to take in the detail of all the wonderful outfits hanging around the room.

  ‘My sisters would be so jealous!’ she whispered. Alice’s thoughts were elsewhere, imagining what a double dose of Rowbottom revenge would involve.

  Freya reappeared and breezed into a fitting room. ‘I’ve left it in there for you, Alice,’ she said. ‘I hope you like it.’

  ‘Thank you,’ replied Alice, wandering in and closing the curtain behind her. It seemed Sarah was far more excited that she was. She could hear her feet tapping in anticipation, and Freya said,

  ‘I’ll make one for you as well. We can’t have you wearing jeans when we’ve got special clothes, can we?’

  ‘Will you, really?’ asked Sarah, scarcely able to believe her luck. ‘Thank you!’

  After a few minutes of rustling fabric, Alice pulled back the curtain and emerged shyly from the fitting room. Sarah’s mouth fell open. Even Freya was temporarily speechless. Alice turned to look in the mirror and barely knew herself. Gazing back at her was a girl who could easily be mistaken for a medieval princess. Not the awkward schoolgirl who was uncomfortable with her image, but the most striking girl she could wish to be. The long, powder-blue dress fitted perfectly and the beads on the bodice glittered in the dancing light of the lamps. It was made of the same remarkable fabric as Imogen’s dress, only a different colour. Intricate swirls of silver embroidery and sparkling stones flashed on her navy blue velvet cloak as she stared, trying to take it all in.

  ‘You look...magical,’ confirmed Sarah, getting up to give her friend a hug.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Alice quietly. As far as she was concerned, this was a much better transformation than the wings. If only the coven could see her now.

  ‘Do you like it?’ asked Freya, wiping a tear from her eye.

  ‘It’s better than anything I ever imagined,’ whispered Alice. ‘Thank you so much.’

  There was knock at the door and Imogen’s face appeared.

  ‘That’s...quite a transformation!’ she exclaimed. ‘You just need your wings, Alice.’ She showed Alice a deep red bottle and removed the stopper. ‘This method is not to be used very often. When you’re ready, inhale once, OK?’

  Alice leaned over the bottle and breathed in deeply. Her nose was filled with such an intense smell of fruit, flowers and cut grass, it almost knocked her off her feet. Imogen held her arm to steady her. Within seconds, her wings emerged, gliding easily through the slots in her dress and cloak. Alice wiped her brow with her hand – it always made her feel hot when that happened. She glanced at the mirror; now the image was complete. As her damp, transparent wings unfurled to their full size, everything suddenly looked right. Alice was clearly meant to be a Finwip, there was no mistake. Her wings lit up like stained glass as she turned her back to a lamp and faced the others.

  ‘Perfect,’ said Imogen. Freya and Sarah both had tears in their eyes now.

  ‘Pull yourselves together!’ said Imogen, smiling. ‘Here’s the photograph of Guinevere, Alice. DO NOT show anyone except Lucinda.’

  ‘I won’t,’ said Alice solemnly.

  ‘Now let’s have some lunch! Enough surprises for one day.’

  Neither Alice nor Sarah could argue with that.

  *

  Alice was amazed to find at least thirty other Finwips having lunch in the hall, including Thomas, who was just tucking in to an enormous slice of cake. Not the usual Thomas though. As they approached his table, Alice could see that he too was completely Finwip today, in his silver-grey robes with his Emperor dragonfly wings extending a long way out behind him. Anyone walking past had to do a detour to avoid walking in to them. Alice thought he looked much better as a Finwip. Even his long, dark, untidy hair somehow looked right in the overall picture now. He didn’t look up from his food until they were standing directly in front o
f him.

  ‘Oh...my...life! Is that really you, Wiglet?’

  Alice grinned.

  ‘Well, I’m...flabbergasted. It’s not often I’m stuck for words. You look great, Alice. Well done kiddo.’

  ‘You look...er...better than usual as well. Funny, isn’t it?’

  ‘This is just who we are, simple as that.’ He watched Sarah’s expression as she tried to take everything in - so many people with various but beautiful wings, fascinating clothes and coloured hair, some tiny people, some with strangely shaped ears. And the most delicious-looking food laid out in front of the kitchen. ‘You OK?’ he asked. ‘Sarah?’

  She brought her gaze back to him. ‘Thomas! You look so different, I didn’t recognise you!’ she said, embarrassed.

  ‘Help yourself to some food,’ he said, pointing to it. The girls wandered over to the buffet. They didn’t know where to start. The kitchen staff had thoughtfully labelled the dishes: in the hot section was stuffed butternut squash or allotment pie (a vegetarian shepherd’s pie). For dessert there was cherry plum flan, blackberry and orange cake, vanilla scones with damson jam or pineapple-halves filled with tropical fruit salad.

  Sarah’s face was a study when Fay asked them what they would like.

  ‘Good to see you, Sarah! Is she keeping you on your toes?’ she asked, glancing at Alice.

  Sarah nodded. ‘Um...yes...hello,’ she mumbled. It was one of those occasions when, no matter how hard you try not to look at something, you can’t stop yourself. Those pointed ears were incredible! Of course, she wasn’t wearing a bandana today. Fay laughed.

  ‘We’ll have you looking like one of us soon!’

  Sarah smiled, certain that she would much rather have wings than pointed ears. ‘Are you all vegetarian here?’ she asked, looking slightly disappointed.

  ‘No,’ replied Fay, ‘but we need a lot more fruit and vegetables than normal humans. Would you prefer a bat meal?’

  ‘Yuck! That sounds gross,’ Sarah blurted out.

  ‘It’s not what it sounds like!’ laughed Fay. ‘It’s just a meal with meat, for Finwips with bat wings. Not insect meat, though.’

  ‘Oh, I see! No, thanks, I’ll try some of this.’ She took a portion of allotment pie. Alice chose the stuffed squash.

  ‘How many puddings can we have?’ she whispered to Fay.

  ‘As many as you like, seeing as it’s you!’

  ‘Might have known you’d be eyeing up the desserts!’ said a familiar voice over her shoulder. Her grandad was standing behind her.

  ‘Grandad!’ she shrieked. She stared in amazement at his golden robes and unusual, mottled wings with their ragged edge.

  ‘You look a picture, Alice,’ said her grandma proudly, appearing beside him. ‘He doesn’t scrub up too badly for an old’un, does he?’

  Alice had to agree.

  ‘I hope you’re going to try my blackberry and orange cake, girls!’ she continued. ‘How are you coping with all this madness, Sarah? You sit next to me,’ she insisted as they returned to Thomas’s table. ‘I’m normal, I can assure you.’

  ‘That’s good,’ said Sarah gratefully. ‘Although, I do love all this.’

  ‘Me too,’ admitted Grandma, giving her a hug.

  Alice was struggling to eat her meal for all the compliments and welcoming comments she was receiving from other Finwips. She’d even had her photograph taken with some of them. When she had finally finished, she insisted that her grandad took one of her and Sarah – she wanted to make sure her friend didn’t feel left out.

  ‘We’ll do another one when you get your robes,’ she promised.

  Sarah was looking forward to that. She sat back down next to Grandma. ‘Do you think, after today, that I’ll come here again?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t think you need to worry about that, my love,’ she replied. ‘I’m sure you’ll be kept very busy in this community if I know Alice.’

  Alice wasn’t listening. Looking around at all the happy faces, she tried to picture how different the scene would be if the police suddenly stormed into the village. Or a group of scientists. At that moment she realised she couldn’t let that happen. She would not let Brian Rowbottom destroy all this.

  Chapter 9

  Progress!

  After an eventful day on Saturday, Alice took time out on Sunday morning to do normal things. Well, as normal as things could be for her given the circumstances. She hadn’t done any harp practice for nearly a fortnight. She hadn’t been in the mood for playing anyway, so it was a stroke of luck that her teacher, Miss Chambers, had been on holiday.

  With Jack beside her, she took her seat next to her instrument in the corner of the dining room. This was the only room where there had been space for it. Her father complained at the time of its purchase, two years ago, that she should have stuck with the recorder. Small and inexpensive. Why had she chosen to play such a large instrument? All Alice knew was that she had been drawn to the sound of the harp. She took out the piece of music that she should have practised and pulled a face as she realised how long and complicated it was. She would never master that by Wednesday evening, it was too difficult. Reluctantly, she arranged the pages on her music stand and made a start. To her amazement, the music flowed easily. Her eyes could barely keep up with the notes on the page as her fingers played them so nimbly and smoothly. Jack sat up and wagged his tail as if enjoying the classical rendition. Alice kept going, not even needing to turn the pages, as she already seemed to know the piece by heart, though she had only heard it once when her teacher had played it to her. When the piece ended she sat back and smiled. The sound of clapping behind her made her jump and she turned to see her parents standing in the doorway, where they had been listening to her captivating performance.

  ‘That was beautiful, Alice,’ said her mother. ‘The best I’ve heard you play.’

  ‘Fantastic. Well done you! I think Miss Chambers will be pleasantly surprised!’ added her father.

  Alice blushed. ‘Er, thanks,’ she said awkwardly. ‘Wasn’t as difficult as I thought.’

  As further practice was clearly unnecessary, Alice decided to move on to the kitchen and try out some of the Finwip recipes she had been given. She started with the banana and sultana crumble that the dinner lady had recommended. Lining a shallow dish with four sliced bananas, she felt her face turning red again at the thought of that incident at school. Would she always be traumatised by bananas now? She added a generous handful of plump sultanas and a few orange segments. Then she made the crumble topping, adding plenty of cinnamon. Judging by the muffled giggles coming from the lounge, Thomas must be making wise cracks about her culinary enterprise.

  Soon the house was filled with the mouth-watering aroma of warm fruit and cinnamon. Thomas and Jack were waiting impatiently, peering through the oven door to see what was cooking. Her parents had forgotten their jokes and were also hovering to see what smelled so good. Alice put on some thick oven gloves and carefully removed her chef d’oeuvre from the oven. It looked and smelled delicious.

  Thomas held up a large serving spoon. ‘Don’t be shy with my portion!’ he instructed.

  ‘Who said I’m sharing?’ retorted Alice.

  ‘They did!’ he replied, waving the spoon at their parents.

  Alice grimaced. She really had wanted it all to herself.

  ‘Well, I am impressed, Alice!’ exclaimed her mother, examining the crumble. ‘What’s come over you today? Is this dessert for this evening?’

  ‘Actually it’s lunch, I’m starving,’ replied Alice bluntly.

  ‘Glad you said that!’ said her father, taking some bowls out of the cupboard.

  Aaargh! Families! Alice was so annoyed she could have screamed. The crumble went down a treat with everyone, though she would have liked seconds and ideally, thirds. She would have licked the empty dish if Jack hadn’t got there first.

  That afternoon she took Jack for a walk to clear her head. Although her domestic efforts had been a distraction, the
task of befriending Lucinda and ultimately rescuing a respected Finwip from the castle was still filling her with dread. She told Thomas she was going and sneaked out while her parents were having their Sunday afternoon nap. Trudging down the road with the snow squeaking beneath her boots, Alice felt better for being out of the house. She just couldn’t relax at home knowing that she was keeping such a secret from her parents and always having to guard against letting anything slip out. Thomas had been doing it for years. Perhaps leading a double life would get easier as time went on. He didn’t even know what his Finwip ability was yet. Perhaps the future held an even bigger challenge for him.

  ‘Oh, Jack, why can’t life be simple?’ she muttered. Jack looked up at her and smiled. Or was he just panting? Alice could see his hot breath in the air. ‘As if you can understand me,’ said Alice, giving herself a ticking off for trying to start a philosophical conversation with a dog. Jack barked.

  ‘Well, can you?’ He barked again, wagging his tail.

  ‘I’m not convinced,’ laughed Alice, unsure whether she was talking to Jack or herself. He began to pull on the lead as they approached the old oak tree at the end of the road. Next to the oak and its mysterious letterbox, which still looked real enough to Alice, was an alleyway between two houses which joined a path to the woods. Jack evidently wanted to go that way but Alice didn’t fancy it on her own. It would be dark in about half an hour.

  As she pulled him away and turned to go back the way they came, he spotted two birds very close to them. He sat down on the spot and watched them. Alice was convinced they were the same blackbird and robin who had followed her to school recently. Only this time, it wasn’t their friendly behaviour that intrigued her – it was the fact they were perched on the Finwip letterbox again. She now knew that meant it was real to them as well. Jack stood up on his hind legs to get a closer look at these cheeky birds. To Alice’s amazement, he leant his front paws on the letterbox. Finwip ‘magic’ must be seen by all animals, she deduced. The birds appeared to have no fear of her or Jack as they stared back into the huge face of her curious dog.