by Alesha Dixon
He threw them across the room in irritation and moved on to pecking at my desk.
“What are you still doing in bed?” Aunt Lucinda cried. “It’s almost the evening!”
I looked at my phone. “It’s ten a.m.!”
“Precisely,” she said, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “Honestly, Aurora, I don’t know why you felt it necessary to blow up the Good Morning Britain studio right in the middle of my holiday. Portugal really is fabulous this time of year and I had to cut my stay there short because of this whole palaver.” She shook her head. “I only squeezed in four weeks there.”
“Aren’t you permanently on holiday?” I grumbled.
“I do try to be, my darling, but it’s not as easy as you think, what with my niece causing chaos every five minutes. I felt that I simply had to be here to check in on you and make sure you’re all right.”
“Oh, really,” I said, raising my eyebrows at her.
“Yes!” She lifted a hand to her heart dramatically. “How could you doubt my intentions?”
“Because last time you popped by, you said it was to support Dad with the grand opening of his big exhibition at the Natural History Museum, and it turned out that in fact you just wanted to steal the famous Dream Diamond from an auction house,” I recalled, thinking about how she fooled me into helping her. “So, what’s the real reason you and Alfred are here? I hope you’re not planning on stealing the Crown Jewels again. There’s a picture of you on a noticeboard outside the Tower of London so that the security team is sure not to let you in pretending to be a tourist.”
“Really?” She patted her hair proudly. “I hope it’s a good photograph.”
I scowled at her. “Aunt Lucinda, I really have enough on my plate without you coming here and involving me in some kind of weird—”
“Honestly, Aurora,” she said, standing up, “you sound more and more like my boring sister every day. Clearly, she’s passed on that sensible gene to you. I am merely here to check on you … and if any of the paparazzi surrounding the house happen to take a picture of me looking fabulous, then that is a sacrifice I am willing to make.”
“Ah.” I smiled. “So, that’s why you’re here. For the fame.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She swanned towards the door. “Come along, Alfred, we can’t keep Aurora’s little friends waiting. They want to hear all about our trip to Fiji last month.”
“Wait, what? What friends?”
“Didn’t I mention them? Oh, that’s why I came to wake you up. Your school friends are downstairs enjoying some hazelnut hot chocolate and droning on about the reporters that keep bothering them.” She let out a long sigh. “I don’t know why they’re complaining. I’ll see you downstairs.”
She flounced out of the room and Alfred followed her, now wearing a pair of my shorts on his head as a hat. As his huge legs thumped down the stairs, I forced myself out of bed.
Since the Good Morning Britain disaster, the press had surrounded our house and refused to leave, desperate to try to get an interview with me or any kind of picture. The movie night with Alexis and Clara had been fun, but I still felt terrible about the whole thing. I just wanted to stay in bed until the end of the summer holidays, by which time, hopefully, everyone would have forgotten I existed.
I got dressed and plodded downstairs, following the voices of the Bright Sparks coming from the kitchen. Dad was at the hob stirring a saucepan and Mum was standing on her tiptoes, getting the mugs down from the cupboard. Aunt Lucinda had taken a place at the table and was admiring her reflection in her pocket mirror, while Kimmy growled from her bed at Alfred pecking busily at the kitchen sink.
“Hey!” Kizzy beamed when she saw me. “How are you?”
“Have you seen the number of reporters outside your front door?” Suzie said, her eyes wide with wonder. “We had to literally push our way in!”
“It’s awful, isn’t it?” I grimaced. “I’m so sorry. It’s not fair on anyone.”
“No, Aurora, we’re sorry too,” Kizzy said gently, glancing guiltily at the others. “That’s actually why we’re here.”
“We talked about it and we got a bit carried away in the excitement of it all,” Georgie admitted as I looked at her in confusion. “We shouldn’t have let you go on the show.”
“You’ve had way too much on your shoulders,” Fred added, crouching down to play with Kimmy and distract her from Alfred, who now had the salt shaker in his beak and was happily using it as a maraca, shaking salt all over the floor as he bopped to his own beat.
“Yeah. Obviously destroying one of the most famous studios in the country isn’t brilliant—” Suzie began, receiving a sharp elbow in the ribs from Georgie. “Ouch! I was just saying that, although that’s not great, your health is much more important.”
Kizzy lifted her phone. “No more superhero schedule. I’ve cleared it all.”
“We’ve all agreed that you need a holiday.” Mum smiled cheerily as Dad nodded in agreement.
“Holidays are the key to success,” Aunt Lucinda declared, snapping her mirror shut. “Right, I’m ready for my close-up with the press.”
“But … I can’t go on holiday,” I said as Mum scowled at her sister. “We have the conference in a couple of weeks.”
“You mean the very SECRET conference?” Aunt Lucinda asked, clearing her throat and looking pointedly at all my friends.
“Oh please. We’ve known about the secret Superhero Conference for weeks,” Suzie said, folding her arms.
When one of the precious stones in Dad’s exhibition turned out to be the Light of the World, superheroes across the world agreed that a secret conference was needed to determine its future, because it was so precious and powerful. The conference had been arranged in London this summer to discuss options and only superheroes were invited.
Mum laughed at Aunt Lucinda’s shocked expression. “They’re heroes too, Lucinda. I felt that they deserved to know.”
“If it wasn’t for the Bright Sparks, I would have lost my job at the museum and the precious stones would have vanished,” Dad said.
Georgie grinned. “Any time, Professor Beam.”
“There’s time for a holiday before the Superhero Conference and I really think it would be a good idea for you to get away from all the madness and have a rest,” Mum insisted, trying her best not to be distracted by Alfred.
He was now using the length of the kitchen as his catwalk, strutting back and forth with a saucepan on his head, wearing the tea towels as a different accessory each time.
His previous choice of headwear, my favourite shorts, had now been ripped in two and thrown impatiently across the room, hitting a confused Kimmy on the snout.
“So, where are you thinking?” Suzie asked excitedly. “Barbados?”
“The Maldives?” Georgie suggested.
“South of France?”
“The Bahamas?”
“Ah,” Dad chuckled, “we were thinking of sending Aurora somewhere slightly more local.”
“Dad can’t get any time off from the museum at the moment, especially as he’s already requested time off to come with us to the Superhero Conference,” Mum explained apologetically. “You know that the summer is the busiest time of year in terms of tourists. And I need to stay in the UK in the lead-up to the conference, in case anyone tries to take over the world…”
“Casual reason.” Kizzy laughed quietly.
“As neither of us can be with you,” Mum continued, “we don’t want to send you abroad on your own.”
“OK.” I nodded. “So, what’s the plan?”
“The plan is for you to spend some time in Cornwall,” Dad announced.
“Cornwall?” Suzie looked at him, baffled. “What’s in Cornwall?”
A mischievous smile spread across Aunt Lucinda’s face. “Nanny Beam.”
6
When I found out that all the Beam women were superheroes, I figured that Nanny Beam probably wasn’t in Corn
wall running a stray chicken sanctuary, like she said.
I thought that – just like Mum used to lie about being “at hot yoga” or “on a business trip” when she was in fact taking down villains – Nanny Beam had probably made up the whole chicken thing to cover her own flashy, superhero lifestyle.
I was wrong.
We see Nanny Beam once a year, but she always comes to visit us, so I didn’t know what to expect as we trundled along the roads to her house in Cornwall. Aunt Lucinda had insisted on joining us for the drive because she was considering buying an island off the coast of Cornwall and decided Mum could drop her off at the port afterwards.
“You’re not driving? What happened to your cool sports car?” Fred had asked Aunt Lucinda as the Bright Sparks helped me pack my suitcase.
“It’s a long story,” she’d said with a sigh, taking a sip from a cocktail. “It involves an ill-advised bet and a mountain. I’ll tell you all about it another time.”
She was sitting in the front seat next to Mum, so I was stuck in the back with Alfred, pushing his stupid feathers away from my face for the entire journey. To fit in the car, he had to have the window down and stick his neck out the whole time, otherwise he got neck cramp. And according to Aunt Lucinda, an ostrich with neck cramp is terrible company. He was wearing special military pilot goggles so that his eyes wouldn’t water when we sped along the motorway.
After hours of me being incredibly cold and uncomfortable squished in next to an ostrich, we turned off the busy road and were soon driving down deserted country lanes and through beautiful rolling green hills. Alfred pecked loudly on the roof of the car to alert us that he had spotted the sea.
“Where are we going?” I asked, as we cruised along the coastline, seemingly getting further from civilisation and nearer to the edge of the cliffs. “Is Nanny Beam some kind of mermaid?”
“Very funny.” Mum chuckled, although considering our family’s history, I wouldn’t have been that surprised if it had been true. “Her house is a bit isolated. It’s beautiful; just you wait.”
We turned a corner and Mum nodded ahead of us. “There.”
Perched right on a cliff edge was a lovely little cottage, surrounded by what looked like lots of wooden huts and stables. A mixture of horses, donkeys, llamas, goats and sheep were dotted around the fields, grazing peacefully. It looked exactly like a holiday postcard.
“Wow,” I gasped, staring at it in awe.
“She has expanded her chicken sanctuary. She now runs a rescue home for any and all stray animals,” Mum explained, parking in front of the house.
I climbed out of the car, listening to the waves crash on to the cliff below, breathing in the fresh air. It felt as though there was no one else around for miles. Alfred, who had untangled his neck from the window, squeezed out of the car bottom-first before wobbling on to the front lawn to begin some stretches, starting with the splits.
“He does hate long journeys, poor thing. Leg room is always a problem when travelling with an ostrich,” Aunt Lucinda noted. “And of course, normally we travel first class…”
Mum rolled her eyes as she got out of the car and rubbed her neck. “I’m so sorry. His Majesty can get a lift with someone else if he’d rather.”
Aunt Lucinda opened her mouth to reply but before she could, the front door of the cottage swung open and the first thing I saw was a shock of bright pink hair.
“Welcome! Welcome!” Nanny Beam exclaimed, hurrying down the front steps with her arms outstretched.
She pulled me in for a big hug, enveloping me in the flowing multi-coloured poncho she was wearing. Dad had always said it would be wonderful to have a competition to work out who was more bonkers: Nanny Beam or Aunt Lucinda. But then he’d always receive a very sharp look from Mum and change the subject.
“Cool hair, Nanny Beam!” I laughed, admiring the colour. “Last time I saw you, it was blue.”
“Ah yes,” she tutted, shaking her head. “Luckily, I grew out of that phase. I am so excited to have you here.” She smiled. “We’re going to have a lovely, relaxing time. I’ve got some marvellous exercises up my sleeve, which is just what you need.”
“Exercises?” Mum asked curiously, coming over to greet her. “I specifically said no superpower training. Aurora needs a break.”
“Don’t be so ridiculous, Kiyana,” Nanny Beam said, throwing an arm over my shoulders. “I’m talking yoga, meditation, everything Aurora needs right now. For example, I… WAIT! STOP!”
We all froze.
“What?” Mum said in a panic, her eyes darting all around. “What is it?”
Aunt Lucinda waved her arms frantically. “Is it a bee? Where? WHERE?”
“Shush! Listen! Feel it!” Nanny Beam pointed at the sun, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Can you feel that, Aurora? Can you?”
“Uh.” I looked to Mum for help, but she just shrugged. “What am I supposed to be feeling? What’s going on?”
“Don’t worry,” Nanny Beam said, opening her eyes and exhaling. “It’s called Sun Gazing. By the end of the week you’ll have a knack for it! It will help your soul to blossom and regenerate your light within.”
“Sun Gazing? Oh for goodness’ sake, Mummy,” Aunt Lucinda hissed. “You almost gave me a heart attack. I thought it was a bee! I must have aged about five years. I’ll start looking the same age as Kiyana!”
Mum narrowed her eyes at her. “We’re twins.”
“Always bickering, you two. I swear you were arguing in the womb. Come on,” Nanny Beam said, chuckling. “Let’s get inside and I’ll show Aurora to her room. Then I need to feed the alpacas.”
“How are all the alpacas?” Mum asked, helping me bring in my bags, while Aunt Lucinda checked in her mirror for any new wrinkles that may have formed on her face in the past two minutes.
“Marvellous, of course! Although, Augusta is being a bit off with me today, but I think that’s because I accidentally tripped over her foot earlier. But, really, she shouldn’t have been Sun Gazing on the roof. Of course, I was going to trip over her there. Do you like alpacas, Aurora?”
She rambled on about the alpacas the whole time she showed me to my room. Her cottage was as beautiful on the inside as it was from the outside. The ceilings were low with old wooden beams across them, and the floorboards creaked under your foot. There were framed photographs of us all dotted about everywhere and chickens were wandering about the house freely, strolling in from the garden to see what was going on inside.
Coming up the stairs, I heard a loud bang behind me as Alfred knocked his head on a beam and then angrily pecked at it in revenge.
“Don’t bring the house down, darling,” Aunt Lucinda warned him, giving him a comforting pet.
He marched huffily back down the stairs and went to have a staring contest with a cockerel.
“This is your room,” Nanny Beam said proudly, standing aside to let me in. “Do you like it?”
It was a lovely bedroom with pale blue walls and a vase of sunflowers next to the bed. I strolled over to the window and looked out. I could see for miles across the green fields and the sparkling blue sea. I already felt a lot more relaxed.
“It’s perfect.”
Nanny Beam clapped her hands together and then invited us all down for a cup of tea before Mum and Aunt Lucinda carried on with their journey.
“Will you be all right for the week here?” Mum asked me before she left.
Aunt Lucinda was in the front of the car waiting and Alfred was strewn across the back seat, flicking through a book Nanny Beam had lent him on the history of animal rights.
“Yes, of course. I think this was a really good idea,” I admitted.
“Me too. Have a wonderful time.” Mum smiled, pulling me in for one last hug. “You’ll be relaxed and refreshed before the Superhero Conference.”
She straightened and turned to face Nanny Beam. “Thanks, Mum, and remember” – she gave her a stern look – “no trouble.”
“Oh, Kiya
na,” Nanny Beam said, putting an arm round my shoulder and waving them goodbye, “what trouble could possibly happen here?”
7
I woke up the next day and lay in bed, feeling confused.
Nobody was shaking me awake, telling me I was late for something. There were no frantic messages on my phone about lost pets or household tasks where my help was urgently needed. No alarm clock was going off. I wasn’t required to be anywhere or do anything.
It was so … nice.
I stretched my arms and sat up to reach over to the window and draw the curtains. Sunlight poured in, making me squint. I peered out at the beautiful view, enjoying the warmth on my face and the tranquil sound of gentle waves.
Suddenly, my bedroom door swung open.
“Good morning, Aurora!” Nanny Beam trilled, coming in with a cup of tea and several chickens who trotted into the bedroom alongside her. “I was just outside feeding the birds and saw your face at the window. How did you sleep?”
Today she was wearing several beaded necklaces over her green top and brightly patterned trousers that were so floaty that I thought it was a long skirt at first. She’d tied her pink hair back with a thin purple scarf that had silver tassels at the end and was hanging down her back. She looked as though she was about to step into a time machine and attend a music festival in the 1970s. She looked wonderful.
“I slept really well.” I smiled, thanking her for the tea as she placed the mug on my bedside table before sitting on the edge of the bed. “I feel like I’m actually on my summer holidays here.”
“Good,” Nanny Beam said, clapping her hands enthusiastically and giving one of the chickens a bit of a fright. She clucked indignantly. “It’s a beautiful day, so we can have a lovely stroll down to the beach if you like. The chickens could do with stretching their legs, as could the alpacas. And the horses. And donkeys. Well, everyone, I suppose. What do you think, girls?” she asked, addressing the chickens strutting around the room. “Shall we have a day at the beach?”
They clucked in excitement, making me giggle.
