by Gwyneth Rees
‘He seems to be,’ Percy told me. ‘It took us a while to find him though. He was stuck in a tree branch and we couldn’t see him from the ground. In fact we’d probably never have found him if we hadn’t heard him shouting for all he was worth. Cedric and I had to climb up the tree to help him down.’
Granny looked exhausted, but even so she was beaming at me. ‘See, Emma. They wouldn’t have found Howard at all if it hadn’t been for you.’
‘Yes,’ said Mum with a smile. ‘Well done, Emma!’
Dad gave me a wink.
Suddenly a gruff sleepy voice from behind us asked, ‘What’s going on out here?’ and we all turned to see Grandpa standing at the back door gazing at us. He looked bewildered as he took in the fairy lights and the balloons decorating the garden.
Saffie responded before the rest of us had a chance. ‘This is your surprise birthday party, Grandpa! And you don’t need to feel shy, because the only people coming to it will be us!’
CHAPTER 12
‘I do believe this is the best birthday party I’ve ever been to,’ Grandpa declared with a smile as we all gathered around the kitchen table where Granny had lit the candles on his cake.
As we sang ‘Happy Birthday To You’, Howard sang louder than anyone in his deep growly voice and I suddenly felt so lucky to have him back again that I felt a big lump in my throat. Walter and Cedric and Percy were there too – Granny seemed able to animate all three with no trouble now that they were in the same room as her.
Granny had put seven candles on the top of Grandpa’s cake – one for every ten years of his life. Since seven was also the number Saffie was going to be on her next birthday, Grandpa insisted she help him blow them out to ‘get in some practice’.
Afterwards we all clapped, then Mum left the room and came back with Grandpa’s birthday present.
‘I don’t believe it!’ Grandpa exclaimed after he had undone the very large parcel.
‘What is it?’ Saffie wanted to know.
‘It’s an engine . . . the engine for my aeroplane . . .’ He sounded absolutely overwhelmed as he added, ‘But this is too much . . . you really shouldn’t have . . .’ And his eyes filled up with tears.
‘We wanted to, Dad,’ Mum said, giving his arm a rub.
‘Just make sure you don’t crash the thing the first time you fly it, OK?’ Dad joked, giving Saffie a secret wink.
Grandpa chuckled. ‘I might have to get some lessons from Donald first.’ Suddenly he looked puzzled. ‘But wait a minute . . . If you bought me this engine then you must have already known what I was making in there.’ He looked at Granny. ‘I don’t understand. Donald was the only one I told. It was meant to be a big surprise for the rest of you.’
‘I know,’ Granny said. ‘I’m sorry, dear. You left the garage unlocked one day and I couldn’t resist having a little peep. There wasn’t much to see at that stage – just the frame really – but afterwards I spoke to Donald about it, and then Marsha and Jim and I decided to give you a rather special birthday surprise.’
Grandpa looked stunned. ‘But the other day when I showed it to you, you seemed . . . well . . .’
‘Shocked and amazed?’ Granny said. ‘That’s because I was! I never dreamed it would turn out like it has.’
Grandpa looked at us all before slowly beginning to laugh. ‘Well in any case, thank you all very much. It’s a wonderful birthday gift.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Saffie whispered to me as we watched Grandpa carefully reading the instruction booklet that came with the engine. ‘Granny can make his plane fly for him whenever he wants. Why does he need an engine?’
I remembered what Grandpa had said about how Mum had never liked Granny using her superpower to animate the people in her doll’s house.
‘It wouldn’t be the same if Granny did it,’ I said. ‘Grandpa wants to make it fly himself.’
‘Oh,’ Saffie said in surprise. And she went quiet as if she was thinking about that for the first time.
‘Everyone, may I have your attention, please?’ Granny suddenly announced, and we looked up to see her standing in the doorway holding a big plate.
‘Is that what I think it is?’ I murmured to Saffie as Granny walked into the room with a big grin on her face. On the plate was a large green jelly slug.
‘Donald made this especially for you, Henry!’ Granny told him.
The green slug-shaped jelly had two small jelly sweets as eyes stuck on the top of two chocolate fingers, which were protruding from its head in place of feelers.
Grandpa started laughing straight away. ‘I don’t believe it . . .’
‘Don’t tell me Donald found a slug-shaped jelly mould!’ Mum exclaimed in disbelief.
‘Apparently so!’ Granny smiled at Grandpa. ‘Don’t worry, dear. We won’t make you eat it! But you do have to have your photo taken with it to send to your brother!’
‘After that can I eat it?’ Saffie asked. ‘I love slug jelly!’
And that made us all start giggling.
‘Marsha, I need to talk to you about the rest of the summer,’ Granny said the following day as Mum and I were with her in the kitchen.
Mum instantly looked worried and I could tell she was afraid Granny wanted to send us home right now.
‘The thing is,’ Granny continued, ‘I’d like you to stay here for the summer too, Marsha. I think you might be right about the girls being too much for me to handle on my own. Besides, I think they’d prefer it if you were here.’
‘Oh, yes, Mum, we would,’ I said at once. ‘Please stay!’
‘Of course I’ll stay,’ Mum replied, sounding relieved. ‘You don’t have to persuade me – you know that’s what I wanted in the first place.’
‘Good, then that’s settled.’ Granny paused. ‘You know, Marsha, Saffie did very well last night. She didn’t have a single lapse in concentration managing those animated birds.’
‘I know,’ Mum agreed with a small smile. ‘I guess there’s definitely hope!’
Just then we heard a shout from upstairs.
‘That sounds like Dad,’ I said, and Mum and I left Granny and rushed upstairs to find out what was going on.
Saffie was already on the landing trying to calm down our dad, who looked like he’d just had the most terrible fright. ‘Take deep breaths, Daddy . . . that’s it . . .’ she was saying.
‘Jim, what happened? Are you all right?’ Mum asked in concern.
‘Why don’t you tell them, Saffie?’ Dad rasped, glowering at my sister, whose face immediately turned pink.
‘I . . . Mummy, I really need to use the toilet,’ Saffie blurted as she quickly escaped into the bathroom.
‘Yes – and next time you can just knock on the door and tell me that!’ Dad called out after her.
‘Jim, what happened?’ Mum asked again.
‘Saffie happened – that’s what,’ Dad grunted. ‘I know it was her because I heard her giggling outside . . .’
Dad told us how he had been in the bathroom, quietly sitting on the toilet reading a magazine, when suddenly two hideous eyes on stalks had popped out from the page in front of him. At the same time a pink papery tongue had shot out and started scolding him about how long he was taking.
Before Mum or I could respond, a delighted giggle sounded from behind us. ‘I believe that’s what’s known as a tongue lashing,’ declared a familiar voice, and we turned to see Queenie-May standing watching us from the doorway of Granny’s bedroom.
‘Don’t be too cross with Saffie,’ the doll continued, looking amused. ‘It was my idea. Penelope and I once tried a similar thing with her father – though that time we made the actual lavatory come alive.’ She giggled again.
Mum seemed to find her voice. ‘I don’t care whose idea it was. Saffie should know better!’ she said sharply.
Just then my little sister came out of the bathroom. ‘I’m really sorry I scared you, Daddy,’ she said solemnly before turning to Queenie-May. ‘OK, I’ve done what you w
anted. Now you have to keep your promise.’
‘Saffie, what are you talking about?’ I asked, but my sister didn’t reply.
Queenie-May sighed and gave Saffie a little nod. ‘All right. I’m ready.’
At that Saffie scrunched up her brow and stared really hard at Queenie-May and in an instant the doll had become lifeless again.
‘Saffie, how did you—’ I began in disbelief.
‘I went to see her in Granny’s room this morning,’ Saffie explained. ‘I said she’d have to let me de-animate her sooner or later if she wanted to get her face mended. She told me she knew that but she didn’t want it to happen before she’d had any fun. So I said we could do something really fun together this morning if she agreed to let me de-animate her afterwards.’
‘And that was all it took to persuade her?’ Mum sounded incredulous.
‘Yes . . . well, that and promising to bring her to life again the next time we come to Granny’s!’
‘Saffie—’ Mum began hotly, but fortunately Dad intervened.
‘So, Saffie,’ he said swiftly, ‘are you saying that the real reason you played that horrible trick on me was because Queenie-May suggested it in exchange for letting you de-animate her?’
My sister turned to Dad and nodded.
The corners of Dad’s mouth twitched just a little. ‘Hmm . . . well, I suppose that’s a bit better than you being desperate for a wee and unable to just tell me that like any normal person.’
‘Jim . . .’ Mum began, and I could tell from her face that she was about to get started on how she didn’t want Dad encouraging Saffie and me to think we weren’t normal.
‘Mum, it’s OK,’ I cut in quickly. ‘Saffie and I know we’re not normal, don’t we, Saffie?’
My little sister nodded.
Mum looked crossly at both of us. ‘Nonsense! You don’t know what you’re saying.’
‘Yes we do!’ I burst out impatiently. ‘We have superpowers, Mum! So how can we be normal?’
Mum looked shocked and Dad was looking pretty surprised too.
‘We’re cool with it, Mum,’ I added firmly. ‘OK?’
‘That’s right, Mummy. We’re cool with it,’ Saffie echoed me solemnly.
‘Oh . . .’ And finally Mum’s eyes teared up and she cracked a small smile as she held out her arms for Saffie and me to come to her for a hug.
Dad was smiling too as he came and put his arms around all three of us. ‘There you go, Marsha! They know they’re not normal, but they’re cool with it! Now how super is that?’
To read an exciting chapter, please turn the page . . .
CHAPTER 1
My name is Emma, and I live with my perfectly ordinary mum Marsha, my perfectly ordinary dad Jim and my six-year-old sister Saffie.
Saffie and I both look ordinary enough – though if you met us you probably wouldn’t guess that we’re sisters. I have straight dark brown hair with brown eyes, whereas Saffie has extremely curly reddish-brown hair and blue eyes. I’m tall for my age, whereas Saffie is short for hers. I’m quite shy with people I don’t know very well, whereas Saffie will chatter away to anyone.
But despite being different in many ways, we do have one very important thing in common . . .
You see we both have the same superpower!
It’s not that Saffie and I can fly, or make ourselves invisible, or read minds, or make our bodies incredibly elastic or anything amazing like that. But what we can do is make all sorts of non-living objects come to life – which Mum says is called animation. This weird gift runs through my mum’s side of the family but it always skips a generation, which is why it missed out Mum and jumped straight from Granny to us.
So now you’re probably thinking, Wow! Having a superpower must be really cool! Well, it is in lots of ways . . . I mean, Saffie and I can do loads of extraordinary things that our friends can’t. For instance, Saffie can make her dolls really talk to her – not just pretend talking. And I can make my pencils dance all over the desk if I get bored while I’m doing my homework. And we can have lots of fun with all Granny’s garden gnomes!
But it isn’t all fun and games. Dad is totally freaked out by our ‘unnatural ability’, as he calls it. It gets a bit irritating after a while, the way he just can’t seem to get used to the idea. I mean, he still nearly jumps out of his skin every time one of his shoes says hello to him when he goes to put it on. And then there’s Mum, who you’d think would be pretty cool about the whole thing, wouldn’t you? After all, she grew up in a house where the vacuum cleaner did the cleaning all on its own, the washing always hung itself out on the line to dry, and her toothbrush used to come and find her if she forgot to brush her teeth. But Mum says she hated having to live side by side with all those crazy objects that Granny had brought alive, especially as she had no control over them herself.
So anyway, Mum is just as stressed about our special powers as Dad is, and not just because she doesn’t want to have to share her house all over again with a bunch of dancing brooms and out-of-control cutlery. She’s also scared because she says that some people out there might want to take Saffie and me away and do lots of clever scientific tests on us if they find out about our powers.
Granny is always telling Mum to stop worrying so much. ‘After all, nobody has turned them over to the local science laboratory yet, have they? And it isn’t as if your neighbours haven’t already witnessed a few odd things . . .’
Mum had to admit that Granny was right. You see, although Saffie and I are absolutely not allowed to use our superpowers outside the house, there are times when it just sort of happens – especially when Saffie is upset about something.
But then something changed that meant even Granny had to agree that we totally should start worrying . . .
It was a Saturday at the start of the summer holidays when our new next-door neighbours moved in.
That afternoon Mum sat Saffie and me down together and spoke to us very solemnly. ‘I want you two to be very careful around our new neighbours. We don’t know what they’re like, and remember . . . when it comes to your special ability, we can’t trust anybody.’
‘Yes, Mum . . . I know . . .’ I said with a yawn, because, like I said before, our mother stresses all the time about other people finding out about us.
Saffie looked like she was hardly even listening. Her best friend, Rosie, had lived next door, and Saffie was so upset and cross about her moving away that she’d refused to say a proper goodbye or to stand outside and wave nicely with Mum and me as they’d driven off.
As soon as Mum had finished talking to us my sister muttered, ‘Don’t care about the new neighbours!’ in a silly baby voice. Then she stomped upstairs and shut herself in her bedroom, where she started to play a very angry game with her dolls. It sounded as if they were calling each other names and throwing things at each other. It’s weird, but it seems that when Saffie’s in a bad mood everything she animates is in a bad mood too.
‘Oh dear. I suppose we’d better check nothing’s getting damaged up there,’ Mum said with a sigh. I knew before she even said it what was coming next. ‘You go, Emma. You’re always so good with the dolls. If I go up there I’ll lose my temper with them and it will only make things worse.’
I let out a big sigh too and put on my grumpiest face. ‘Oh, Mum, do I have to?’
Mum got firm with me then and called me by my proper name, which I hate. ‘Yes, Emmeline, you do. As I’ve told you many times before you are the best equipped to deal with your sister when she gets like this. I wish that wasn’t the case, but it is. So please just go up there and see what you can do! And don’t let that red-haired rag doll get the better of you – she’s always the troublemaker!’
I trudged up the stairs, feeling cross.
‘Serafina, what are you doing?’ I demanded angrily as I pushed open her bedroom door. If Mum was going to call me by my proper name then I didn’t see why I shouldn’t call Saffie by hers. (Too late I remembered that lately my sist
er had started to absolutely love her name because she thinks it makes her sound like a very exotic princess.)
My sister didn’t reply.
Inside her bedroom her two favourite dolls, Dorothy and Elvira, were squabbling with each other. Dorothy is a very cheeky-looking rag doll with brown freckles and long red woollen hair, and Elvira is an old hand-me-down dolly that was our mum’s when she was a girl. Elvira has a soft lumpy body and a delicate china head, and Mum is always really protective of her. If you ask me, that’s why Mum is so bad at handling any fights between Saffie’s dolls, because she always takes Elvira’s side no matter what.
Elvira was the first object Saffie ever brought to life after Granny discovered a box of Mum’s old toys in the loft when we were staying with her one time. Mum actually cried when Elvira stood up and smiled at her, partly because it was the first time Saffie had used her gift and partly because Mum suddenly remembered how much she had loved it when Granny had brought Elvira to life for her as a child. (She said she’d almost forgotten that there had been some good things about having a mum with a superpower.)
In Saffie’s bedroom the floor around the two dolls was littered with smaller toys that had clearly been used as missiles. An entire dollies’ tea-set was scattered about the room and there were books everywhere.
‘I don’t care if I never see you again, Miss Straw-for-Brains! snapped Elvira rudely.
‘My brains are made from the best quality stuffing!’ Dorothy defended herself. ‘And at least my head isn’t hollow like yours. If your head ever gets cracked then we’ll all be able to look inside and see that you haven’t got any kind of brain at all!’
‘Elvira! Dorothy!’ I said sternly, but they ignored me.
Saffie was lying on her bed with a face like thunder. ‘Go away!’ she grunted at me without taking her eyes off the dolls.
