She gave Dragon Carpy an update on his wife’s health. I understood fragments, but she was so quick, her hands twirling above her head one moment, and patting the soles of her feet the next. Then she turned and looked at me thoughtfully.
‘What do you think of Dragon Carpy giving you a ride to Blue Chalet Village?’ she asked me. ‘He passes directly over it on his way home, and it would save you the long ride in a dray cart? I noticed in your parents’ instructions that the dray cart is only a suggestion for how to get there. I wondered why it was written like that, and now I think maybe they were hinting at this?’
I stared at her. ‘Ride a dragon? I could do that?’
‘Sure! I mean, you’d never ride a dragon without first asking his permission, of course. That’s bad manners. Do you remember how to ask?’
It seemed to me that she was missing the point. This wasn’t about manners, it was about the possibility of falling from the sky or getting chargrilled and eaten. ‘I think I’d rather …’ I began, but then I remembered that my mother had once ridden a wild forest horse. ‘All right,’ I said instead.
To ask for a ride on a dragon, you have to take a handful of dried leaves, crumple them between your palms, clap four times, and say, ‘Crch, crch, shhh, vip, crch?’ Easy.
Dragon Carpy smiled and presented his neck.
‘Hang on, we’ll have to get her bag first,’ Aunt Sophy told him, in Dragon. ‘And I’ll call your Aunt Nancy, Bronte, to make sure she can meet you earlier than planned.’
Back inside, I ran around saying goodbye to the dragons and stroked the babies one last time and thanked Dragon Great Damian for his lessons. I could hear Aunt Sophy on the telephone explaining things to Aunt Nancy. ‘So she’ll get there at two instead of four. Is that okay? You’ll be there to meet her at two? By the fountain in the village square as planned, yes, but two, not four. All right?’
Over and over she said, ‘Two, not four? You got it?’ and I could hear the voice on the other end of the phone beginning to sound impatient. ‘Yes,’ I heard, ‘I got it!’ I didn’t blame Aunt Nancy. Aunt Sophy was overdoing it.
‘Well, that’s done,’ Aunt Sophy said eventually, hanging up. She frowned at the phone though, as if she might want to call back and say it one more time. It struck me as interesting, the way that people who are calm and sensible amongst animals can fall apart when it comes to other humans.
We hurried back outside and Dragon Carpy bowed, crouched, and lowered his neck again. Aunt Sophy demonstrated to me how you climb aboard a dragon, and how you cling to the tops of a dragon’s wings without hurting him. I climbed on very cautiously, and the great dragon moved warm and slow beneath me. Aunt Sophy hooked my suitcase over Dragon Carpy’s claws. My heart was beating very fast.
As the dragon rose into the air, I waved to Aunt Sophy, and thanked her for a wonderful visit. It occurred to me that, once again, I had not done a single brave or clever thing my entire visit, although I supposed I’d been helpful. Then Dragon Carpy tilted a little, and I clutched his wings with both hands, and leaned forward in the way Aunt Sophy had told me, and we sailed higher and higher into the blue, the wind fresh and free, my knees pressed against the dragon’s flanks, and I found that I was laughing aloud. My mother was a gymnast. My father told funny stories. They had sent me on this journey to have adventures—adventures with elves, a boy with no shoes, water sprites, Spellbinders and dragons. They had sent me on this journey to hear my aunts tell stories about my parents themselves—memorising Faery books, stealing cinnamon, eating spicy foods, turning cartwheels in forests—a basketful of memories to comfort me. Now I soared through the air, my heart glowing golden, and a thought flung itself at me.
I have never been so happy.
Next, I visited my Aunt Nancy in the mountain village of Blue Chalet.
While I was there, I started an avalanche. I cannot imagine anyone ever calling that clever or brave. It’s not even helpful.
I suppose I should tell you about the avalanche. I was thinking I could use that short chapter to skip straight over it and onto the next aunt. But no, that would only be annoying of me.
Here is what happened.
Dragon Carpy flew into the Blue Chalet Village Square about ten minutes before 2 pm. He set down my suitcase and waited while I slid myself from his back. It was a long drop; I skidded a little on the icy cobblestones, but Carpy reached a wing to steady me.
I remembered my Dragon for ‘Thank you so much! Have a great flight home!’ and Carpy beamed and began to tell me a long story in rapid Dragon.
‘I’m sorry,’ I hurriedly said to him. ‘I only know a tiny bit of Dragon.’ Dragon Great Damian had urged me to practise this phrase as often as I could. ‘Oftener,’ he had said, chortling.
‘Oh,’ Dragon Carpy replied, and I could see he’d been excited about chatting. He was probably lonely without his wife. I told him that I had enjoyed the flight enormously, and that I hoped his wife, Dragon Bree, would recover her health soon.
Dragon Carpy nodded along politely as I spoke, but I could tell by the little dimple in his snout and the spark in his eye that I was making mistakes. I expect I was speaking mainly nonsense. Still, he seemed to get the point, and he thanked me for my kind thoughts, and folded his wings in a gesture of friendship. I folded my arms in response, and we both bowed. Then Dragon Carpy crouched low, spread his wings wide and soared away.
I watched him sailing above the clock tower, and rising up and up towards the mountains, past the mighty snow-covered peak of Mount Opal, and then he was gone.
I hurried over to the fountain, placed my bag on the cobblestones, and turned my attention to the village square. At first, to be honest, I didn’t notice anything strange about it. I was still elated by my dragon flight and the crowds of dragon memories from my days in Aunt Sophy’s dragon hospital, and new memories about my brave and interesting parents. In fact, I was trembling with happiness.
Bong! … Bong! said the clock tower, so now it was two o’clock. I looked around expectantly for Aunt Nancy. Would the girls be with her? Aunt Nancy has three daughters, two a little older than me and one a little younger, and my heart was thudding quickly about these cousins. I had spent so much time with grown-ups lately. They had all been very pleasant, of course, but it doesn’t matter how pleasant grown-ups are, they’re not children. I don’t blame them for this—there’s not a thing they can do about it.
I really wanted to spend some time with children now.
I stood alongside the fountain, stamping my feet and thinking, Please be nice, about my cousins. Children who are unkind are even more useless than grown-ups.
Aunt Nancy was fifteen minutes late now. I remembered waiting on the wharf for Aunt Emma. Maybe Aunt Nancy was in prison too? Well, I would have to do detective work and get her out! I laughed to myself at that, and stamped my feet again.
After a while, I noticed what was strange about the square. It was empty. There were patches of snow and ice here and there, and icicles dripped from the eaves of all the shops, but nobody was hurrying in and out of those shops. Nobody was standing looking up at the clock. No children played by the fountain, and no parents called to them to hurry up, it was time to go home.
I also noticed that I was stamping my feet. This was because it was cold. The sky was blue and there was a patch of sun in the shape of a triangle across the square, but the fountain was in deep shadow. I buttoned my overcoat right up to my chin, and wrapped my arms around me tightly.
Bong! said the clock, and it was 2.30 pm.
I walked across to the triangle of sunlight and stood in it, facing the fountain. I would be able to watch out for Aunt Nancy from here, and the sun was now warm against the back of my neck. I felt my shoulders relax. There was a good view of Mount Opal from here too, rising up from behind the clock tower, bright with snow.
Nearby was a bakery. CLOSED, said a sign on the door. Another notice hung directly beneath that, handwritten on a scrap of paper. I stepped closer t
o read it. Due to Avalanche Risk, it said.
‘Avalanche risk!’ I laughed. I thought it was a joke.
I stood rocking back and forth on my heels in the sunlight. Bong! … Bong! … Bong! said the clock. So now it was 3 pm. My triangle, I noticed, was shrinking.
I waited. The triangle of sunlight disappeared. I looked around the square, but it was all in shade.
My teeth began to chatter.
3:30 pm.
I sneezed.
I jogged on the spot, but my feet slid out from under me and I landed on my bottom, hard. I stood up again. I decided to walk briskly (yet carefully) around the square until Aunt Nancy arrived.
CLOSED DUE TO AVALANCHE RISK! said the sign on the bookstore. CLOSED—AVALANCHE said a scribbled paper stuck to the butcher’s shop window. I frowned. I looked towards the peak of Mount Opal. It looked right back at me, perfectly innocent. Its snow cap fitted snugly.
‘Avalanche,’ I scolded the shops as I carried on around the square reading sign after sign. CLOSED DUE TO AVALANCHE RISK. ‘There’s not going to be an avalanche!’
My voice echoed across the square. My fingers and toes burned with cold. I strode a little faster, skidded on a slippery cobblestone, but caught myself in time. I slowed down, watching my breath blow out its steam.
Around and around the square I walked. Bong! said the clock, over and over. CLOSED DUE TO AVALANCHE RISK, said every single shop. I passed a signboard painted with a map of the village and stared at this a while. Mount Opal was sketched into the map, and somebody had pinned a little notice to that: AVALANCHE RISK: EXTREMELY HIGH.
4 pm.
5 pm.
The sky was a deep, dark blue now, the shadows in the square a deep black, and my whole body shook with cold. My hands and feet throbbed. My nose ran and I sneezed once, twice, three times, and sneezed again.
Suddenly, I understood. Some terrible accident must have happened to Aunt Nancy. Perhaps she had driven to the square to collect me in a motor car and it had crashed! Or in a horse and buggy, and it had skidded on ice and landed in a ditch! Maybe the girls were injured! Maybe they were all trapped beneath the buggy in deep snow, and it was all my fault! They had been on their way to fetch me! And now they were slowly dying and here was I pacing around the square!
What was wrong with me?!
I threw open my suitcase and fumbled for my parent’s instructions. I had to take off my gloves to turn the pages and my fingers were a vibrant blue. I found Aunt Nancy’s address: The Dime House, Furrier Lane, Blue Chalet. I packed the suitcase again and ran across to the signboard with the village map.
Furrier Lane! Where was it?
There it was, quite high in the hills. It joined Steep Road, which ran all the way down to the square, so that had to be the route they had taken.
I grabbed my suitcase, skidded out of the square, and turned onto Steep Road.
Steep Road should have been called Steep and Also Covered in Slippery Ice Road. Or maybe The Road On Which You Take Two Steps and Slide Down Five.
But it was only called Steep Road.
I clambered and slipped my way up using a sort of crawling motion with my elbows and knees as wedges. An icy wind played with me all the way, diving under my collar, slithering up my sleeves, and dusting me with gritty bits of ice. I kept careful watch for carriages upturned in ditches, but I saw no vehicles at all—not the upturned kind, nor the kind that travel on their wheels. Once I thought I saw a person face-down in the snow and I cried out, ‘Aunt Nancy!’ and rushed over, leaping into deep snow. It turned out to be a tattered old scarecrow.
By the time I reached Aunt Nancy’s house, the sky was scattered with stars. DIME HOUSE said a wooden board hanging from a letterbox. The windows were orange-golden.
I tried to knock on the door, but my arm was frozen solid like a piece of wood and wouldn’t work. I tried thumping with my suitcase instead.
A long silence.
I thumped again.
‘What is that noise!’ came a voice from inside. Then footsteps, and the door flew open. It nearly tripped me backwards.
A tall woman frowned down at me. ‘Yes?’ she demanded.
Had Aunt Nancy moved? Was this the wrong address?
Now what?
‘Aunt Nancy?’ I tried, hesitantly.
‘Bronte!’ she said. ‘What on …? Come inside! Quickly! Of all the …?’
She shut the door firmly behind me, and we both stood in the hallway, me shivering, and her staring.
‘What are you doing here already?’ she asked eventually.
‘I arrived at two,’ I said.
‘Two? No, no. Sophy specifically told me it had been changed. Ten, she said. I’ve organised the chair to collect you! Oh, blast, now that’s for nothing. I’ll have to cancel it.’ She smiled brightly at me. ‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘Don’t blame yourself. I’ll just go cancel that chair.’
I followed her down the hall and we turned into a kitchen. There was a fireplace in the corner, but it had not been lit. A window was ajar, and the icy breeze was using it to come inside and flutter the tablecloth.
While Aunt Nancy made her telephone call, I pulled off my boots. My stockings were drenched. Snow showered from the boots onto the floorboards along with a pile of melting slush.
‘Oh!’ I said.
Aunt Nancy turned, still talking into the phone. She furrowed her brow at the snow on the floor, then pointed out a towel that was hanging from a hook. I slid over to get it and wiped up the snow as well as I could.
‘Well!’ Aunt Nancy said, hanging up her telephone. ‘Let’s have a look at you. But you’re still wearing your coat! Funny thing. Take it off! You’re inside now.’
I looked at the open window. ‘Could we close that?’
‘Oh dear, no. Fresh air clears away the germs. Now, I’m right in the middle of preparations for tomorrow’s meetings.’ Aunt Nancy pointed out stacks of papers lined up on the table. ‘This is terrible timing, your visit, dear—I have meetings for the entire three days. Lots of people will be coming here—but you must not blame yourself for that. Only, I’ll have to keep working as we talk, I’m afraid. But you won’t mind that. I can’t think why you’ve arrived now, at what is it?’ She looked at her watch. ‘Nine o’clock! You’re an hour early! Sophy specifically told me ten. Never mind, it’s all worked out in the end.’
‘I got here at two,’ I said. ‘I waited in the village square, and then I walked up.’
‘Whatever did you do that for? Sit down, won’t you, and make yourself at home. Take off your gloves at least!’
I pulled off my gloves, which were soaked through, and set them on the table. A puddle formed around them.
‘Now then, would you like a glass of water?’
I stared at her. A glass of water? Surely I should be changing out of my wet clothes? Not adding more water to the mix.
‘It’s not a trick question!’ Aunt Nancy grinned at me. ‘Yes or no!’
‘All right, then,’ I said. ‘Yes, please.’
She hurried over to the sink and turned on the tap. As she did that, I tried to solve the puzzle. Aunt Sophy had said two on the telephone. Very clearly. Many times. I had heard her.
The answer occurred to me. Aunt Nancy must have a hearing problem, and that was why Aunt Sophy had repeated herself so much.
How could I find out for sure?
I would speak very softly, and see if she heard me.
‘Do you have a hearing problem?’ I whispered.
Aunt Nancy swung around from the sink, glass of water in her hand. ‘No, I most certainly do not!’ she said. ‘My hearing is excellent! What a funny thing to say.’ She set the water down before me, her face rushing with frowns, which settled back into a smile.
‘Now, then,’ she said, swiping papers from each of the stacks. She straightened edges and stapled the papers together: CLUNK! ‘I’ve been on the telephone with your other aunts today, and I’ve heard all about your adventures! CLUNK! Your Aun
t Sue says you’ve been jumping into rivers! CLUNK! Your Aunt Emma says you’ve been arguing with the police! CLUNK! Your Aunt Claire says you ran around going to conferences! CLUNK! Your Aunt Sophy says you’ve been gallivanting with dragons! CLUNK! What a funny thing you are!’
I sneezed seven times in a row.
Aunt Nancy laughed. ‘You’ve gone and got yourself a chill, and no wonder! Jumping into rivers! What a funny thing to do!’
I wanted to say that I had jumped into the river ages ago and that, if I did have a chill, it was from waiting in the village square for her. But that didn’t seem polite.
‘Well,’ I said instead. ‘I only jumped into the river because there was a baby in there.’
‘Oh yes, my girls like babies, too,’ Aunt Nancy said. ‘They’re always wanting to play with babies.’
‘I didn’t want to play—’ I began. CLUNK! said Aunt Nancy’s stapler. I took a sip of water. It was icy cold. I felt it all the way down my throat to my chest. ‘Where are the girls?’ I asked. The house was very quiet. Perhaps they were sleeping?
‘The girls?! Why, they’re at boarding school, of course! And your Uncle Nigel is on one of his research trips, as usual. Honestly, he works so hard, his hair has fallen out! Completely bald he is now. I kept telling him to slow down if he wanted to keep his hair, but he only laughed at me. He loves his work writing history books, you see. But that means it’s just you and me, I’m afraid. Didn’t you know that the girls go to boarding school? Gosh. Isabelle doesn’t tell you much, does she?’
‘She might have told me,’ I said quickly. I didn’t want her thinking Aunt Isabelle had failed me. ‘I just forgot.’
‘Oh, yes, my girls forget things all the time, too! Ribbons, cardigans, bracelets. They leave a trail of possessions behind them wherever they go! And they’re always going places too, just like you! It would be just like my girls to take it upon themselves to walk all the way up from the square! You funny thing!’
The Extremely Inconvenient Adventures of Bronte Mettlestone Page 12
