“But surely it wouldn’t be a goal if it went over the net?” said Mirror-Belle.
“You don’t score goals in tennis,” Ellen told her. “You have to keep hitting the ball over the net till the other side can’t manage to hit it back.”
“Well really, this is too tiresome for words. Things are so much simpler back home. When I play with my own golden ball I just throw it and catch it – there’s none of this nonsense about teams and goals and nets and red and blue. Occasionally, of course, the ball falls into a pond, but then it usually gets rescued by a frog and I turn him into a prince by kissing him.”
The jolly woman laughed again, more uncertainly this time. “I tell you what,” she said. “I think you two would enjoy putting. That’s quite a straightforward game.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Ellen, but only as a way of getting out of the embarrassing tennis game. She didn’t really want to try another sport with Mirror-Belle, and once they were outside in the corridor she said, “Maybe the magic ball has bounced back to your land, Mirror-Belle. Don’t you think you ought to go back and look for it there?”
“No, I’m sure it’s here somewhere.” They had reached the reception area and Mirror-Belle looked around. “What about this butting game? Is there a ball in that?”
“It’s putting, not butting,” said Ellen, alarmed by the thought of Mirror-Belle trying to head-butt a golf ball. “Yes, there is a ball, but . . .”
A receptionist overheard them. “Do you want the putting green? Go out through the main door and turn left,” she said, and the next second Mirror-Belle was prancing eagerly outside. Ellen followed her doubtfully.
The attendant on the putting green gave them each a club and a ball. Ellen was relieved to find that they could play by themselves, without having to join another group of children.
Mirror-Belle looked disappointed with her ball. “There’s nothing magic about this,” she said, but she was intrigued by the metal flags sticking out of the ground, each one with a number on it. “How curious,” she said. “At home we fly the flag of the kingdom high above the palace. It has a lion and a unicorn on it – except that by now I suppose the wicked fairy must have taken it down and replaced it with her own horrible flag.”
“What’s that got on it?” asked Ellen.
“Er . . . a spider and a centipede,” replied Mirror-Belle. “Still, even that’s a bit better than these silly flags in the ground.” “
But these ones are different. They’re just for the game – to show you where the holes are,” Ellen tried to explain.
Instead of listening to her, Mirror-Belle was swinging her golf club about experimentally, as if it was a tennis racket.
“No, not like that. You have to put the ball on the ground, then hit it.”
“Get a move on, can’t you,” came a voice from behind them, and Ellen saw that three boys were queuing up to have a game.
Feeling flustered, she said to Mirror-Belle, “Why don’t I go first, so I can show you? I’m not very good, mind.”
She stood with her feet apart, swung her club back and gave the ball a smart tap. To her surprise it ended up really near the hole. With a bit of luck she should get it in with the next shot. Ellen felt quite pleased with herself and hoped that the impatient boys were impressed.
But what was Mirror-Belle up to? Instead of placing her own ball on the ground she was running after Ellen’s one. And now she was whacking it back in Ellen’s direction – except that it went sailing past her and hit one of the impatient boys.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he yelled, clutching his knee.
“Returning the ball, of course,” said Mirror-Belle. “And it was a pretty good shot, if you ask me. Ellen here didn’t manage to get it back – that’s one point to me.”
“No, it’s not!” Ellen found herself shouting at Mirror-Belle. “I wish you’d listen to me. This isn’t tennis, it’s putting. It’s like golf – you have to get the ball down the hole.”
“Well, really!” Mirror-Belle sounded loud and indignant too. “I must say, I thought better of you, Ellen. You keep making me play these stupid games when you know I should be looking for the magic ball, and then you change all the rules to suit yourself.”
“No, I don’t. And I don’t want you to play with me anyway. It was your idea.”
“I thought you were my friend,” said Mirror-Belle. For the first time ever, Ellen thought she could see tears in her eyes. But she couldn’t be sure because the next second Mirror-Belle had thrown down her club and was running away, back towards the main doors of the leisure centre.
“What a nutcase,” said the boy with the hurt knee. One of the others seemed to feel sorry for Ellen. “You can play with us if you like,” he offered.
“No, it’s all right. I’d better make it up with her.”
Ellen returned the clubs and balls to the attendant and then followed in Mirror-Belle’s footsteps.
“Have you seen my friend?” she asked the receptionist.
“Oh, I thought she was your twin. Yes, she was here a minute ago. She looked a bit upset. She went into the crèche.”
Ellen’s heart sank. The crèche was only supposed to be for toddlers and very young children; they could stay there and be looked after while their parents played sports or went to the gym. What on earth was Mirror-Belle up to in there?
She found out as soon as she opened the door and a lightweight blue ball hit her, followed by a red one.
Mirror-Belle was in the ball pool, hurling the balls out of it at a frantic speed. A few excited toddlers were copying her and some others were running around outside the ball pool, picking up the balls and throwing them around. Everyone seemed to be having a good time except for the two women in charge of the crèche. One of them was telling Mirror-Belle off; the other one, seeing Ellen coming in, looked up from the nappy she was changing and said, “Is that girl in the ball pool your twin? Can you tell her to stop throwing the balls around?”
“She’s not, but I’ll try,” said Ellen and went up to the ball pool.
“Ah, Ellen, there you are at last!” Mirror-Belle greeted her in a friendly voice.
She seemed to have forgotten about their quarrel. “Do you know, that wicked fairy is even more cunning than I thought. She’s obviously sent the magic ball in here and she thinks I won’t be able to find it among all the others. But I’m sure I’ll recognize it. For a start, a lot of them are the wrong colour.” She threw a green ball out. “And so far none of the yellow ones feel right. They don’t bounce properly.” She hurled a couple of yellow balls in different directions. One of them landed softly on the tummy of the baby whose nappy was being changed. He clutched it and burbled happily.
“I expect the magic ball has sunk to the bottom,” went on Mirror-Belle. “I’ll probably have to get rid of all the others before I find it.”
“Mirror-Belle, you’ve got to stop that! You’re not supposed to be in here anyway.”
“Who said so? I don’t notice any kings or queens around here and they are the only ones who can tell princesses what to do or where to go,” said Mirror-Belle.
“But you’re too old for the crèche,” said Ellen.
“In any case, you have to be signed in by your mother or father,” added one of the crèche-workers. She was wearing a badge with a smiley face and the name Tracy on it.
Mirror-Belle looked at her as if she was an idiot. “That’s impossible,” she said. “As I’ve already told you, both my parents have been turned to stone.”
“Fwo! Fwo! Fwo!” shouted a toddler, eager for some more action. He clamped his arms round one of Mirror-Belle’s legs. Obligingly, Mirror-Belle threw a few more balls out of the pool.
Tracy turned to Ellen, hoping to get more sense out of her. “Where are your parents?” she asked.
“Well, my dad’s on squash court three,” Ellen admitted. “But he’s not her father,” she added hastily.
“Fwo! Fwo!” the toddler started to
clamour again, but Mirror-Belle ignored him. “You never told me your father had a court like mine,” she said to Ellen in surprise. “How many courtiers does he have waiting on him?”
“It’s not that sort of court – not a royal one,” said Ellen. “Dad’s playing squash with Luke.”
“Oh,” said Mirror-Belle, appearing to lose interest. She threw a few more balls around, but rather half-heartedly. Then, all of a sudden, she unclamped the demanding toddler from her leg and sprang out of the ball pool. “I think I’ve been on the wrong trail all the time,” she announced. She ran to the door, flung it open and was gone.
Several little children tottered after her and started crying when Tracy closed the door. The demanding toddler grabbed Ellen’s leg and started up his chant of, “Fwo! Fwo! Fwo!” He seemed to expect her to start where Mirror-Belle had left off.
“I’m sorry about all that,” said Ellen to Tracy.
“Don’t worry,” said Tracy. “We can’t choose our families.”
Ellen decided it would be useless to explain again that Mirror-Belle wasn’t related to her. Instead she helped Tracy pick up the scattered balls and throw them back into the ball pool. The toddlers didn’t seem to enjoy this nearly as much as they had enjoyed Mirror-Belle throwing them all out, and the crying grew louder.
“Well, I’d better go,” said Ellen when the last ball was back in the pool. She wondered where Mirror-Belle had got to but decided not to look for her this time. She would go and find Dad and Luke on their squash court.
She didn’t need to. As soon as she opened the door she saw them outside in the corridor.
“So that’s where you’ve been hiding,” said Dad.
Luke was looking cross. “Give it back,” he said.
“What are you talking about?” asked Ellen.
“The squash ball, of course. That yellow one was our best one. It was really bouncy.”
“But I haven’t got it.”
“Then what have you done with it?”
“Nothing. I never had it.”
“Yes, you did – you came rushing in and snatched it.”
“It wasn’t me. It must have been Mirror-Belle. She was looking for the magic ball, you see – the one her fairy godmother threw – and—”
“Oh shut up.” Luke turned to Dad. “She’s always telling whoppers.”
But Dad was in a surprisingly good mood. “Ellen’s got a vivid imagination, that’s all,” he said. “And it’s not as if that yellow ball was ours anyway. We just found it on the court when we arrived.”
Luke didn’t want to give up so easily. “She’s hidden it in the kids’ gym somewhere,” he said. “I’m sure I saw her go in there.”
Ellen guessed that Mirror-Belle had run back to the gym with the squash ball – or was it really the magic ball? In either case, she had probably taken it back to her own land through one of the mirrors in the gym. But Ellen knew that to say so would be the wrong thing. It would only make Luke even crosser. So instead she asked, “Who won at squash?”
Luke scowled. That seemed to be the wrong thing too.
“I did,” said Dad.
About the Author and Illustrator
Julia Donaldson is one of the UK’s most popular children’s writers. Her award-winning books include What the Ladybird Heard, The Snail and the Whale and The Gruffalo. She has also written many children’s plays and songs, and her sell-out shows based on her books and songs are a huge success. She was the Children’s Laureate from 2011 to 2013, campaigning for libraries and for deaf children, and creating a website for teachers called picturebookplays.co.uk. Julia and her husband Malcolm divide their time between Sussex and Edinburgh. You can find out more about Julia at www.juliadonaldson.co.uk.
Lydia Monks studied Illustration at Kingston University, graduating in 1994 with a first-class degree. She is a former winner of the Smarties Bronze Award for I Wish I Were a Dog and has illustrated many books by Julia Donaldson. Her illustrations have been widely admired.
Books by Julia Donaldson
The Princess Mirror-Belle series (illustrated by Lydia Monks)
Princess Mirror-Belle
Princess Mirror-Belle and the Party Hoppers
Princess Mirror-Belle and the Magic Shoes
Princess Mirror-Belle and Prince Precious Paws
Princess Mirror-Belle and the Flying Horse
Princess Mirror-Belle and the Sea Monster’s Cave
Poetry
Crazy Mayonnaisy Mum
Wriggle and Roar
Shuffle and Squelch
Poems to Perform (anthology)
Plays
Play Time
Plays to Read (a series for schools)
Picture books with Lydia Monks
Sharing a Shell
The Princess and the Wizard
What the Ladybird Heard
The Rhyming Rabbit
The Singing Mermaid
Sugarlump and the Unicorn
Princess Mirror-Belle and the Dragon Pox
What the Ladybird Heard Next
These stories first published 2006 in Princess Mirror-Belle and the Flying Horse
by Macmillan Children’s Books
This edition published 2015 by Macmillan Children’s Books
This electronic edition published 2015 by Macmillan Children’s Books
an imprint of Pan Macmillan
20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-1-4472-9558-7
Text copyright © Julia Donaldson 2006
Illustrations copyright © Lydia Monks 2006, 2015
The right of Julia Donaldson and Lydia Monks to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Pan Macmillan does not have any control over, or any responsibility for, any author or third party websites referred to in or on this book.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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Princess Mirror-Belle and the Flying Horse Page 3
