Trouble Next Door

by Chris Higgins

  In the war against dirt, Babcia was a general with many successful military campaigns under her belt. An invasion of soot was nothing to her.

  Unlike Mum, who was screeching a lot but not actually doing anything, and Dad, who was scratching his head and staring bemused at his blackened living room, Babcia immediately sprang into action. First she hauled her granddaughter to her feet by the elbow and took her outside to hose her down.

  Then she came back with a damp, deflated Magda and an arsenal of weapons.

  These included:

  a mop and bucket,

  a scrubbing brush,

  a broom,

  a dustpan and brush,

  spray polish,

  dusters

  and an old vacuum cleaner as big as a tank.

  Babcia threw open the windows and doors and led the others into battle.

  She flung the rugs over the washing line and ordered Dad to beat the living daylights out of them.

  She pegged out the cushions and told Sid to whack them hard with the broom.

  She instructed Bella to dust the books within an inch of their lives.

  She commanded Magda to wipe the ornaments clean carefully.

  She put Mum in charge of brushing down the sofas and Dad (when he’d finished beating the rugs) in charge of washing down the walls.

  Meanwhile Babcia scrubbed the fireplace, swabbed the mantelpiece, scoured the skirting boards, polished the TV, buffed the bookshelves, mopped the coffee table, blitzed the carpet with the vacuum cleaner and blasted the final traces of soot from its hiding places.

  Soon Magda grew bored with wiping ornaments carefully. She wanted to dust the books within an inch of their lives instead.

  “Swap?” she asked Bella.

  “OK,” said Bella, though she couldn’t help noticing that the ornaments Magda had already wiped were still a bit soot-smeared. She decided to go over them again.

  “Careful with my best jug, Bella,” warned Mum as Bella picked it up.

  Bella bit her lip. She’d spotted a crack in it. Magda must have done it.

  Mum had yelled at Bella when she’d discovered the living room was full of soot. Now she might blame her for cracking her best jug.

  Should she tell Mum it was Magda’s fault? Better not. She probably wouldn’t notice. Anyway, you don’t get your friends into trouble, do you?

  Bella realised she already thought of Magda as a friend. It gave her a nice warm feeling inside.

  TIME FOR A BREAK

  At last they were all finished.

  Everyone stood and stared at the living room.

  “Nice carpet,” remarked Babcia. “Grey is a good colour, yes?”

  “It was pink,” said Mum faintly.

  “How about that cup of tea?” suggested Dad.

  “I’ll make it!” offered Magda, and dashed off to the kitchen.

  “What a thoughtful child!” said Mum, sinking down thankfully on to the sofa beside Babcia. “You’ve both been so helpful. I don’t know how we’d have managed without you.”

  Bella tried to work out how Magda had emerged as the hero in all this but it was too complicated, so she followed her new friend out to the kitchen instead and Sid trailed after her.

  The kitchen was full of steam and Magda was doing a handstand against the back door.

  Bella switched off the kettle, filled the teapot and looked around for mugs. Most things were still in packing cases.

  “There are some pretty cups in that box,” said upside-down Magda, her plaits hanging down to the floor.

  “Oh!” said Bella, looking at the dainty cups and saucers in the box on the worktop. “They’re my mum’s best tea service. They were a wedding present. We only use them for special occasions.”

  “This is a special occasion,” said Magda. “It’s the day we became best friends.”

  Bella got that nice warm feeling again. She hadn’t realised they were best friends.

  “Shall I put some plates out too?” said Magda. “Then we can have some biscuits.”

  “Good idea,” said Bella.

  Magda swung her legs over, somersaulted across the room and caught the edge of the box with her foot.

  There was an ominous crunch and a tinkling noise.

  “Oops! Sorry!” said Magda, peering into the box. “Don’t worry, it’s only one or two. There’s plenty more.”

  “I’ll get the biscuits!” said Sid and he stood on a chair to open the cupboard. “We’ve got rich tea, custard creams, Jammie Dodgers and chocolate digestives. Which ones do you want?”

  “All of them,” said Magda, opening the packets.

  Bella thought she should stop her but she didn’t know how to. Instead she carefully laid out cups, saucers and plates on a tray with milk and sugar, just like she’d seen Mum do. Then she poured the tea and arranged a selection of biscuits nicely on a plate.

  “That’s not enough!” said Magda, and emptied the rest on top. Some fell on the floor and broke.

  “Never mind,” said Magda, gobbling up the broken bits. “I’ll take in the tray of tea.”

  “And I’ll take in the biscuits,” said Sid.

  Magda led the way into the living room and offered the tea to Mum.

  “Oh, what a good girl you are, Magda,” said Mum, helping herself to a cup. “You’ve set this out so nicely.”

  Bella waited for Magda to say that actually it was Bella who had set it out nicely but she seemed to have forgotten.

  Bella felt a teeny bit annoyed.

  Mum’s eyes opened very wide when she saw the plate piled high with biscuits, but because they had guests all she said was, “Goodness me, who arranged those?”

  “Bella,” said Magda and helped herself to a chocolate digestive.

  And a Jammie Dodger.

  Plus two more chocolate digestives and a custard cream.

  THINKING IT OVER

  When Babcia and Magda left, Mum had a great deal to say about too many biscuits, broken tea sets, cracked favourite jugs, climbing up chimneys and sooty living rooms.

  All of which, for some reason, she seemed to think was Bella’s fault. Bella tried to explain but Mum refused to listen.

  “You have to take your share of the responsibility,” she said sternly. “Now go to your room and reflect upon your actions.” (Mum always spoke in long words when she was cross.)

  Bella went upstairs and lay down on her bed and did as she was told. But, try as hard as she could, the more she reflected the less she understood how her actions had led to the chain of events.

  It was a mystery.

  It seemed to her that it was Magda who’d caused the trouble but she who’d got the blame. That wasn’t fair, was it?

  Above her head came a soft, fluttering noise and Bella sat bolt upright. Oh no! The ghost was back!

  “Mum!” she said automatically.

  Then Bella thought that, at this precise moment, the ghost was probably less scary than her mum, so she decided to cover her ears and sing loudly to drown out the noise. Six songs later, it had stopped. Bella got up and knelt down by her bedroom window to take her mind off what might be up there in the attic.

  In next door’s garden Magda was practising her cartwheels. She was very good at them.

  Magda looked up and spotted Bella watching her. She waved and Bella waved back.

  Magda put her fingers into the corners of her mouth and waggled her tongue. Bella giggled and pulled a funny face back.

  Magda hung her arms down to the ground and leapt around the garden whooping and pretending to be a monkey. Bella laughed out loud and did the same thing around her bedroom even though Magda couldn’t see her.

  Then Bella waggled her ears at Magda, and Magda waggled her plaits back at Bella.

  They kept on playing, taking it in turns to do silly things and copy each other, until Mum called Bella down for lunch.

  “Can I play with Magda this afternoon?” asked Bella through a mouthful of baked beans. She was so much fun, she’d
forgotten she’d ever been cross with her.

  “No,” said Mum.

  “Tomorrow?” said Bella hopefully.

  “We’ll see,” said Mum.

  Bella sighed. “We’ll see” was Mum-speak for: “Don’t ask again and hopefully you’ll forget all about it.”

  She wouldn’t forget though. She wanted Magda to teach her how to do proper cartwheels. And handstands.

  It was nice having a best friend next door.

  NOTHING TO DO

  To Bella’s disappointment, the next morning it was pouring with rain.

  After breakfast Bella and Sid knelt on the window seat and traced the raindrops streaking down the windowpane, first with their fingers, then with their noses. Then Sid got silly and did it with his tongue and Mum asked Bella to read him a book.

  Bella read Sid’s favourite story. Over and over again.

  Then she asked if they could go up to the attic to look for the ghost. But Mum said no, she was too busy and there wasn’t one. Bella and Sid watched television. Lots.

  Mum and Dad seemed to have forgotten all about them.

  Bella discovered an interesting fact. The longer you watch television the harder it is to sit upright. When Mum walked in to see what they were up to, Bella was slumped sideways and Sid was sprawled across her on the sofa.

  Mum switched the television off.

  “That’s enough. You’ll get square eyes,” she said, which was not true because Great-Grandma, who was very old, watched television all day long and her eyes were still round.

  But Bella had discovered another interesting fact. Watching too much television was like eating too much food. You get sick of it in the end.

  “Go and sort your bedrooms out,” said Mum. “Bella, you need to unpack.”

  Sid scampered upstairs and Bella tore up behind him. When she went into her bedroom, she paused to listen for the ghost but all she could hear was the sound of rain pattering on the roof. First she made her bed. Then she started to hang her clothes up.

  It was quite tricky because they kept sliding off the hangers, so Bella turned her attention to her big box of books instead. She loved reading. She had more books than anyone else she knew.

  Bella decided to arrange them by author alphabetically, like they did in the library. That way she would always be able to lay her hands quickly on the one that she wanted.

  Her books were better behaved than her clothes. Bella, who liked arranging things neatly, hummed to herself as she filled her bookcase and the shelves beside her bed with books in the right order. It took a long time but it was worth it.

  Bella put the last book in place and sighed happily. That was a job well done. Now all she had to do was to finish hanging her clothes up properly and then Mum would be really pleased with her.

  Rat-a-tat-tat!

  Someone was at the front door.

  MANY HANDS

  Bella looked out of the window.

  It was Magda!

  Bella raced downstairs and flung open the door.

  “Coming out to play?” asked Magda, looking a bit damp.

  “It’s raining.”

  “Oh yes. I’d better come in then,” Magda said and stepped inside the house.

  “Who’s that?” asked Mum, poking her head around the kitchen door. “Oh, it’s you, Magda. Bella’s busy tidying her bedroom.”

  “Can I help?” asked Magda. “I’m good at tidying.”

  Mum hesitated and then she smiled. “That’s very kind of you, Magda. You’d better tell your grandma where you are though.”

  “She already knows,” said Magda. “Come on, Bella.” She led the way upstairs.

  “Wow!” she said, when she walked into Bella’s bedroom. “This is soooooo neat and tidy.”

  Bella was pleased. “I know. I’ve just put all my books into alphabetical order.”

  “That’s boring,” said Magda, bouncing up and down happily on Bella’s newly made bed. “Everyone does that. Why don’t you sort them a different way?”

  “How?” asked Bella, puzzled.

  “Put them face out, that’s what I do. Then you can see the covers. Watch me do a headstand!”

  Magda put her head on Bella’s pillow and flung her legs up, crashing into the shelf above, where Bella kept her special things.

  Somehow Bella managed to catch her tiny house made of seashells and luckily the glass clown Grandma had brought her back from Italy fell safely on to the bed. But her garden-in-a-shoebox, which won second prize in the Spring Show, went flying, scattering soil and plants everywhere, and so did her jewellery box and all its contents.

  “Sorreeeee!” said Magda.

  “Quick! Let’s clean it up before Mum sees it!” said Bella in alarm.

  “No, let’s organise your books first!” said Magda and she began to grab them off the shelves.

  Very soon the bookcase and shelves were full but there were still lots of books left over.

  “That didn’t work,” said Bella. “They take up too much room that way.”

  “It’s your fault,” explained Magda. “You’ve got too many books. Tell you what! I’ll take these home with me.”

  She started picking up the rest of the books.

  “No,” said Bella quickly, snatching them back. “Let’s arrange them a different way. How about size?”

  “Oh!” said Magda, disappointed. “That’s boring too.” Then she brightened up. “I know! We could colour-code them. Put all the blues together and all the pinks and so on. That would be really cool.”

  “I don’t know …” said Bella doubtfully. It sounded like a good suggestion but she was beginning to learn that when Magda lent a hand things did not always go according to plan.

  But it was too late. Magda was already sweeping the books on to the bedroom floor. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

  “So will I,” said Sid, appearing from nowhere. “Hello, Magda!”

  TOO MANY COOKS

  Magda and Sid were really good at taking the books down from the shelves but not so good at putting them back up again. The pile on the floor seemed to be growing.

  Colour-coding turned out to be a much harder job than Bella thought it would be. Magda had quite different ideas from her about which book was what shade and kept swapping them around.

  After a while Magda got bored and peered inside Bella’s case. “Look at all your clothes! Would you like me to hang them up for you?”

  “Yes please!” said Bella gratefully.

  She picked up Bella’s party dress. “This is nice. Can I try it on?”

  “Help yourself,” said Bella, so Magda did.

  Then she dropped it on the floor and tried on Bella’s new top and leggings.

  Then she tried on all the rest of her clothes as well and forgot all about hanging them up.

  “Shall we tidy up now?” said Bella worriedly, eyeing the messy bed, the piles of books, the mounds of clothes, the scattered jewellery and the clumps of soil and plants.

  “In a minute. Let’s play fashion shows first,” said Magda. “We need high-heeled shoes. Has your mum got some?”

  That sounded like fun. Bella ran off to fetch them from her mum’s room. Magda came too and helped herself to the highest pair she could find. Suddenly her eyes lit up. She’d spotted Mum’s wedding dress hanging in the wardrobe.

  “I’ve changed my mind. Let’s play weddings instead! I’ll be the bride.”

  Magda was full of good ideas. All the same, Bella felt a bit nervous.

  “I don’t think Mum would like you wearing her wedding dress.”

  “She won’t know,” said Magda. “We’ll just have one game and then I’ll put it back. Sid, you can be the bridegroom.”

  Sid jumped up and down with excitement but Bella still wasn’t sure.

  “Tell you what,” said Magda. “You be the bride and I’ll be the vicar. Your mum won’t mind you trying on her wedding dress. My mum says I can wear hers when I get married.”

  “OK,” sai
d Bella, happily. Magda was so kind.

  They dressed Sid up in a pair of Dad’s trousers but they fell down round his ankles, so instead he wore his favourite Superman pyjamas with a jacket of Dad’s that came down to the floor.

  “This is fun,” giggled Bella, holding the hem up off the floor and managing a rather precarious twirl in Mum’s tall shoes. “I feel beautiful.”

  “You look beautiful, Bella,” said Sid. “I’m glad I’m marrying you.”

  “Now we are ready to start. We will all sing together, ‘Here Comes the Bride’,” instructed Magda in a vicar’s voice. “It goes like this.

  Dee, dee dee dee

  Dee, dee dee dee …

  Oops! I nearly forgot!” She clapped her hand to her mouth. “You need a bouquet, Bella. Go and pick some flowers from my garden.”

  Bella wobbled downstairs on her high heels, out of her garden and into Magda’s. It was still raining and very muddy but she managed to pick some nice flowers even though she got a bit wet.

  “What on earth … !” said Mum as she caught sight of a small, damp, wobbly bride disappearing back upstairs. She dashed up after her, just in time to see the bride trip head over heels across the pile of books and clothes on the floor of a very messy bedroom and put her high spiky heel through her beautiful but rather muddy wedding dress.

  “BELLAAAAAAAAAA!” roared Mum.

  IN THE DOGHOUSE

  “You’re in the doghouse, Bella,” Dad whispered to her when he looked in on her mid-afternoon. He’d tiptoed in with his finger to his lips, handed her a rocket lolly from the freezer and tiptoed back out again.