by Gwyneth Rees
Ellie let out a yawn without meaning to and the old lady looked directly at her. ‘Bored with the subject of vicars are you, Ellie?’
Ellie flushed bright red and couldn’t speak.
‘So tell me,’ the old lady continued, ‘why have you come to see me?’
‘Well . . .’ Ellie felt her face burning as she stammered, ‘it’s j-just that I heard you often give to charity and there’s a person . . . I mean . . . well, a building . . . that’s going to have to close down unless someone helps it.’
‘I see. And what building is this?’
‘It’s the old toy museum,’ Ellie replied, starting to feel a little more confident. ‘It’s been in this village for fifty years, but now Mr Daniels doesn’t have enough money to keep it going, so he’s going to have to sell it and all the toys are going to be taken away to London. He’s asked for donations but he’s hardly had any. I was wondering if you could help us since . . . since you’ve got lots of money and nobody to leave it to when you—’
‘Ellie!’ Aunt Megan interrupted, sounding mortified, but Mrs Lloyd-Hughes didn’t look the least bit upset.
‘Very well put, Ellie,’ she said. ‘I do like people to be direct rather than shilly-shallying around when they’re asking me for money!’
‘Mrs Lloyd-Hughes, obviously you’re under no obligation—’ Aunt Megan began, bright red herself now, but the old lady hushed her impatiently.
‘Of course I’m under no obligation, but Ellie’s right. I do have a lot of money and I don’t have any relatives to leave it to when I die. However . . .’ the old lady frowned, ‘I’m afraid, Ellie, that I have no wish to give to this particular charity. You see, toys have made me nothing but unhappy. In fact, I hate the things!’
‘But why?’ Ellie burst out, dismayed.
‘Ellie, don’t be nosy,’ Aunt Megan admonished her.
But Mrs Lloyd-Hughes seemed only too happy to answer. ‘Because the only toy I ever cared about was taken away from me when I was a child, that’s why!’
‘But who took it?’ Ellie asked, wide-eyed.
‘Ellie!’ Aunt Megan interrupted again.
Mrs Lloyd-Hughes suddenly looked across at her and said, ‘My dear, would you be so kind as to go and ask my housekeeper to make us some tea?’
‘Oh, we couldn’t possibly put you to all that trouble—’
‘It’s my housekeeper who’ll be making it and that’s what I pay her for. In fact, why don’t you go and have a chat with her in the kitchen while I have a chat with Ellie? After all, I don’t suppose you’re burning to know the answer to Ellie’s question, are you?’
Aunt Megan looked like she didn’t know how to respond, but in the end she just nodded politely and left the room. Strangely, Ellie didn’t feel nearly as nervous as she normally would if she was left alone with an adult she hardly knew.
‘Tell me, Ellie, do you have a favourite toy?’ Mrs Lloyd-Hughes asked her as soon as Aunt Megan had gone.
Ellie nodded. ‘A rag doll called Trixie. She’s been my favourite since I was little.’
‘I see. And how would you feel if this Trixie was suddenly given away, without anyone even asking your permission?’
‘I’d feel terrible!’
‘Exactly. And that’s how I felt when my precious china doll, Henrietta, was given away by my mother! She had been asked to donate some things to some charitable cause or other and she said she thought I was too old to be playing with dolls any more. But Henrietta was so much more than just a doll to me, Ellie. Can you understand that?’ The old lady paused. ‘My parents were very strict and not easy to talk to, and I had two older brothers who teased me all the time. They both died in the war, poor things, and I missed them then, but still . . . I was quite lonely as a child, what with my two brothers never letting me play with them, so I used to tell Henrietta everything.’
‘I . . . I expect she seemed almost like a real person,’ Ellie said.
Mrs Lloyd-Hughes nodded. ‘That’s exactly right, my dear. So do you understand now why I don’t want to have anything to do with a toy museum? After losing Henrietta, I couldn’t look at another doll without feeling ill, and even now I’d rather have nothing to do with the things.’
Sadly Ellie nodded that she did understand.
‘I must say you seem like a very sympathetic little girl,’ Mrs Lloyd-Hughes said. She looked thoughtful for a moment. Then she said, ‘Do you see that bookcase over there? There’s an old photograph album on the bottom shelf. Can you fetch it for me?’
Ellie did as she was asked. As soon as she handed over the album Mrs Lloyd-Hughes began leafing through it as if she was looking for something. It was full of black-and-white photos, and Ellie caught several glimpses of a baby in a frilly bonnet and two little boys in sailor suits. But it wasn’t until the old lady reached a page with a photograph of a little girl on it that she stopped and allowed Ellie to look properly. Ellie saw that the little girl, who looked about the same age as herself, was standing stiffly against a mantelpiece, dressed in a frilly white smock and holding a china doll in the crook of one arm.
‘That’s me,’ Mrs Lloyd-Hughes told her, ‘and that is Henrietta.’
Ellie stared at the china doll. Apart from her clothes, she looked remarkably like Enid. The face and hair seemed almost identical, although it was difficult to tell exactly because the photo was in black and white. ‘Did Henrietta have blonde or dark hair?’ Ellie asked.
‘Blonde, of course! Can’t you tell? I loved her hair – it was the real stuff, you know! Dolls often had real hair in those days – well, the best ones did.’
‘And what colour was her dress?’
‘It was a lovely bright yellow. She had matching knickers and knitted yellow bootees as well. You can’t imagine how pretty she looked.’ The old lady sighed, a faraway look in her eyes. ‘I cried and cried when I came home that day and found her gone. My mother said that Henrietta had probably been given to some crippled child in an orphanage and that I should be glad about that. But how could I be glad when I missed her so much?’
Ellie was beginning to get an idea. The trouble was, it meant doing something dishonest. But on the other hand it wouldn’t hurt anybody, and it might even make Mrs Lloyd-Hughes happy. Better still, it might actually save the toy museum.
As she heard her aunt announcing from the doorway that they really must be going now, Ellie said quickly, ‘I’ll put your album away for you before I go, shall I?’
And without waiting for a reply, she took the album from the old lady and carried it back to its bookcase, where she secretly removed the photograph of Henrietta and slipped it into her pocket.
The fairies had said they would meet Ellie at six o’clock that evening at the bottom of Aunt Megan’s garden, where Ellie had hoped to be able to give them the news that Mrs Lloyd-Hughes had agreed to save the toy museum.
At six o’clock Ellie was waiting by the bottom fence just as they’d agreed, and it didn’t take long for Myfanwy and Bronwen to appear.
‘Well?’ they demanded excitedly. ‘How did it go?’
‘Not exactly how we wanted it to,’ Ellie began, ‘but I’ve had another idea . . .’ And she explained her new plan to them, taking the photograph of Henrietta out of her pocket to show them.
‘I’m not sure what Queen Lily will say, but we’ll go and tell her straight away,’ Bronwen promised.
‘Take good care of this photograph, won’t you?’ Ellie said as she handed it to them.
‘Of course we will,’ Bronwen said. ‘But even if Queen Lily agrees to try out your plan, it will take us at least a whole day to get everything ready, so we won’t be able to bring it back to you until then. We’d better make it midnight tomorrow – that should give our fairy dressmakers all the time they need.’
And after they had chatted for a little longer, the fairies flew off over the fields, saying that they had to check quickly on the sheep with the poorly leg before they flew back to Fairyland.
When b
y the following afternoon Ellie still hadn’t heard anything from the fairies, she took it as a sign that Queen Lily had agreed to try out her idea. Aunt Megan was taking Ellie and David to the cinema, and as they drove through the village Aunt Megan stopped her car outside the toy museum and said that she was just popping in to see Mr Daniels for a few minutes.
Ellie got out of the car and went with her.
‘So how did it go at the solicitor’s?’ Aunt Megan wanted to know, as soon as Mr Daniels had invited them inside.
Ellie stayed in the office to listen as Mr Daniels told Aunt Megan that his solicitor had advised him to go ahead with the sale. ‘I’ve also had an estate agent come over to take a look, and apparently it’s a fair price I’m being offered for the place.’
‘But couldn’t you wait just a bit longer to see if you get any donations?’ Ellie asked.
Aunt Megan looked at her, clearly surprised by her outspokenness. ‘Ellie’s become quite the little chatterbox in the last day or so,’ she said. She went on to tell Mr Daniels about their visit to Mrs Lloyd-Hughes, though since Ellie hadn’t told her aunt about Henrietta, all Aunt Megan knew was that the old lady had refused to help them because she didn’t like toys.
‘Well, I appreciate your efforts, Ellie,’ Mr Daniels said, ‘and if you have any other ideas, you let me know. I’d willingly have a shot at just about anything, if I thought it might save the museum. As it is, I reckon I can only hold out for a few more days before I’ll have to give up the fight.’
‘It seems such a shame that all the toys have to go,’ Aunt Megan said. ‘I was thinking, Daniel – surely it couldn’t hurt to keep a few for yourself?’
Mr Daniels sighed. ‘The trouble is that this London fellow who’s offering to buy the place is insisting on having the museum logbook included in the sale. It lists everything in the museum, and he was very clear that any offer he made must include every single toy. I think he suspects that some of the toys might be valuable and that I might try and diddle him out of the best ones.’
‘Does the logbook tell you who gave each toy to the museum?’ Ellie asked, thinking about Enid and her claim to have once belonged to the Queen.
‘In most cases, yes,’ Mr Daniels said. ‘My father always wrote down the details of how and when each toy was acquired. Though since handwriting wasn’t one of his strong points, I’ve never found it easy to read.’
‘Do you think I could have a look at it?’ Ellie asked.
‘We haven’t got time for that now, Ellie,’ Aunt Megan said, glancing at her watch. ‘We’d better go, if we want to get to the cinema in time.’
‘OK, but I just want to have a quick look at the dolls first,’ Ellie said, hurrying into the main room to look inside the cabinet that contained Enid and the others. Their clothes were back to normal – except that Enid’s dress was no longer hitched up – and there was no sign of the fairies. Ellie stared for a few moments at Enid, trying to imagine her wearing clothes like the ones Henrietta had worn in Mrs Lloyd-Hughes’s photograph. If they could just get the dress right, and comb her hair a little bit differently, then it should work, she thought, and she crossed her fingers for luck before rushing off to join her aunt.
Bronwen and Myfanwy had told Ellie not to try to stay awake that night as they would wake her up themselves when they arrived in her room.
‘Well, don’t you dare throw water over me,’ she had told them, and they had promised that they wouldn’t.
Instead of using water, the two fairies showered her with fairy dust, which tickled her nose and made her sneeze herself awake.
‘Come on,’ they said as soon as she opened her eyes. ‘Queen Lily wants you to come to the toy museum with us and see Enid for yourself!’
‘I can’t walk into the village at this time of night,’ Ellie said, yawning.
‘You won’t have to. We’ve brought transport.’
‘What sort of transport?’
‘A pony. Normally he’s just an ordinary Welsh pony, but tonight Queen Lily has used some very strong fairy dust to make him grow wings. He’s always wanted to fly, so he’s very excited about it. Come on. He’s waiting for you outside the window.’
Thrilled, Ellie rushed to the window and there, hovering just beneath the window ledge, clearly visible in the moonlight, was the cutest Welsh pony she had ever seen. He had a glistening white coat with a cream mane and tail, and attached to both shoulders were the most enormous gold sparkly wings. The pony was flapping them up and down and swishing his tail proudly.
Ellie gasped. ‘He looks a bit like a unicorn, but without the pointy bit on his head.’
‘Unicorns are make-believe, silly!’ Myfanwy exclaimed, giggling. ‘Nobody in their right mind believes in those! Now climb on to his back and he’ll take you to the museum!’
‘Here, you’d better wear this so you don’t get cold,’ Bronwen said, handing her a child-sized knitted cape. It was yellow and glittery, with tiny daffodils embroidered all over it, and when Ellie put it on over her nightdress it fitted perfectly and felt wonderfully soft.
‘It’s lovely,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank us. Thank the fairy dressmakers. It’s made from the same wool they used to knit Enid’s new bootees. You’ll meet them when we get to the museum.’
Ellie could hardly believe she wasn’t dreaming as she sat astride the flying pony, which took her high over the fields and rooftops towards the toy museum. The sky was clear and she could see the stars twinkling brightly above her as they flew. There was a coolish breeze, which made her grateful for the warm cape around her shoulders, and the fact that the pony’s back was warm too. Bronwen was flying to one side of her while Myfanwy flew ahead, leading the way. The little pony whinnied with excitement every so often, as if he could hardly believe this was really happening either.
Finally they arrived at the museum, where the pony flew down to allow Ellie to climb straight on to the little landing at the top of the museum stairs. ‘Thanks for the ride,’ Ellie said, patting the pony’s velvety nose after she had climbed off.
Bronwen and Myfanwy led the way inside, and when she entered the main room Ellie gasped in delight.
Fairy lights were strung up everywhere, and Enid, Llewellyn, Dilys and Tedi were all out of their cabinet. There were lots of fairies Ellie hadn’t seen before, who all seemed to be gathered around something in the middle of the room. Some of them held needles and thread, others had pins in their mouths, some carried miniature tape measures and one was balancing a large pincushion on her head.
‘These are the fairy dressmakers,’ Bronwen told her.
As a few of the fairies moved out of the way, Ellie saw that the object they were gathered around was Enid. She was wearing a yellow frilly dress instead of her old blue one, and she was lifting up one foot for two fairies to tug a yellow bootee on to it.
‘Enid looks . . . she looks . . .’ Ellie began tentatively.
‘Like Henrietta?’ asked a familiar fairy voice, and Ellie turned to see the fairy queen flying towards her.
‘Yes!’ Ellie gasped. ‘At least, I think so! Has somebody got the photograph so we can check?’
Two fairies immediately flew forward and dropped it into her hand.
‘These are two of our head fairy dressmakers.’ Queen Lily introduced them. ‘They have worked very hard to make Enid’s outfit look exactly how it does in the photograph. They also designed your new cape. I must say, it looks very pretty on you.’
‘Oh, it is pretty – thank you so much,’ Ellie quickly told the two fairies, who smiled and said that she was welcome.
‘Both the cloak and Enid’s new clothes are made from human materials, so they shouldn’t arouse any suspicion when they are worn,’ Queen Lily told her.
Suddenly Enid spoke up, sounding cross. ‘I don’t think yellow is my colour at all,’ she complained, ‘and these knickers are very scratchy. You’ve put far too much lace in them.’
‘My fairies had to guess at th
e style of the knickers,’ Queen Lily explained to Ellie, ‘since they weren’t visible in the photograph. But we thought since the dress was so fancy then the knickers would be as well. That’s why we decided to trim them with lace. Of course, a lot of old dolls lose parts of their outfits over time, and we did wonder whether to dispense with the knickers entirely, but Enid was rather upset by that idea.’
‘I have always worn knickers,’ Enid declared haughtily, ‘and as a doll that was once a part of the royal family, I think it most unseemly not to.’
Dilys, Tedi and Llewellyn, who had all been watching Enid’s transformation from the comfort of the dolls’ pram, began to snigger loudly.
‘Regardless of whether Enid is correct in thinking she was once a royal doll, she is doing us all a great favour by agreeing to pose as Henrietta,’ Queen Lily reminded them sternly.
As the toys did their best to look more serious, the fairy queen turned to Ellie and said, ‘What we still have to work out is how we are going to get Mrs Lloyd-Hughes to come to the museum.’
‘What if I show her a photograph of Enid dressed as Henrietta?’ Ellie suggested. ‘I could take it with David’s digital camera. Then she’s bound to want to come to the museum to actually see Enid – I mean, Henrietta – for herself. And with any luck, when she gets here she’ll be so happy to see Henrietta again – and so horrified at the thought of her being sent away to London with the rest of the toys – that she’ll give Mr Daniels a big enough donation to save the museum!’
‘I’ll go and fetch David’s camera now,’ Myfanwy said. ‘I saw it on the dressing table when we went to collect you, Ellie. Don’t worry, I’ll be very careful not to wake him.’ And she flew off.
‘There is one other problem, Ellie,’ Queen Lily said, frowning. ‘Even if Mrs Lloyd-Hughes believes that the photograph you show her is Henrietta, in order for her to continue to believe that, we need Enid to remain in her new clothes permanently. But surely Mr Daniels will notice that her clothes are different.’
