Philippa Fisher's Fairy Godsister

by Liz Kessler

  I breathed out heavily as I shoved the MagiCell back in my pocket. This was the bit that annoyed me most about having to work with humans. In training it was fun, but in real life — well, the thought of having to look out for her welfare all the time was making me mad. What about my welfare?

  I pursed my lips to stop myself from screaming with frustration. Then, just as we got to the end of the corridor, I gave Philippa a quick shove. She fell against the wall. It didn’t hurt or anything. I didn’t push her hard, but she looked at me with shock on her face.

  “What was that for?” she asked, her voice all pinched up and squeaky as if she were going to cry.

  “Sorry — accident,” I said simply, as a man rounded the corner carrying three large boxes piled in front of him so high that he could hardly see.

  “Whoops, just missed you there,” he said cheerily. “Good job. Full of paint, these boxes. That could have been nasty!”

  As he passed, Philippa stared at me. She didn’t say anything. Her mouth opened, then she shook her head and tried a shaky smile. “Well, that was lucky — I guess I should thank you!” she said.

  “Yes,” I replied tightly. “You should.”

  With that, I walked off, even more annoyed than before. The afternoon bell was about to ring, and I hadn’t given her the vouchers yet. This assignment was not going as planned!

  “Wait!” I ran to catch up to Daisy.

  “What?” she said without turning around.

  “That,” I said. “I mean — I know it sounds stupid, but it was almost as if . . .” As if what? My words trailed away. What was I trying to say, anyway? Whatever thoughts were going around in my head, they didn’t add up. It certainly wasn’t a good idea to say them out loud!

  Daisy walked faster.

  “But you couldn’t have,” I continued, my words slipping out before I could stop them. “I mean — I mean, how could you? You couldn’t have known, could you? It’s impossible.”

  Daisy rolled her eyes.

  “But you — why would you have shoved me like that?” Shut up! Stop talking! You’re making a fool of yourself! “I mean, I haven’t done anything to you,” my voice continued, ignoring the instructions from my brain. “Why would you do that?”

  “Like I’ve never been shoved,” Daisy muttered. Her face was scrunched up, her cheeks red and angry. “Or thrown out of a window!”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  She stormed off again. I practically had to run to keep up with her. “What did you say? Something about being thrown out of a window?” Someone must have done something terrible to Daisy. It was no wonder she was so angry.

  “Forget it,” she said.

  “But that’s awful!” I said gently. “I mean, it’s really terrible, Daisy. Who would do something like that to you? Who could do something so awful?”

  Daisy stopped walking for a second and looked into my eyes. “I wonder!” she said pointedly before marching off again — her limp even more pronounced as she stomped away.

  I caught up with her and put a hand on her arm. We both stopped where we were. “Daisy, tell me, why did you shove me?” I asked.

  Daisy shook me off. “It’s my job, OK?” she snapped. “That’s what I’m here for!”

  Her job? “What do you mean?” I asked. I didn’t want to make her even angrier, but she was talking in riddles. “I don’t understand. How can it be your job to push me?”

  She rolled her eyes again. “It’s not my job to push you!” she said.

  “But you just said it was.”

  “It’s my job to look after you!”

  “But — but it’s me who’s meant to be looking after you!”

  “Yeah, sure it is,” she sneered. Then she burst out, “Since when were you a fairy godmother?”

  We stared at each other in silence, the air between us frozen and hard. I opened my mouth to reply. My jaw stayed open, but nothing came out.

  “A what?” I said eventually.

  “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

  “Yes, you did,” I insisted.

  “No. I didn’t,” she repeated. “I’ll get into even more trouble now. You’re not supposed to tell. They’ll probably put me on traffic duty or something to punish me. Day after day sitting on airplanes next to terrified people crying their way to places all over the world. Whoop-de-do!”

  What was she talking about? “Daisy, you’re not making any sense,” I said.

  “You think you know it all, you humans,” she exploded. “You don’t care about anything except yourselves. Even when we’re here to help you, you’re ungrateful. Look what they did to FGBumblebee1167. Five minutes into his life cycle, and he was swatted dead by the client. Dead! It’s not a game, you know. It’s our lives at stake. He hadn’t even started his assignment. And you’re just as bad!”

  I stared at Daisy, wondering if she needed help.

  “Yes, you heard right,” she snapped. “I’m your fairy godmother. And before you say anything, it wasn’t my choice. It’s just a job, and don’t worry, I plan to get it done and be out of your life as soon as I possibly can.”

  “My what?” I said with a gasp. “But — but . . .” My words dried up into a big fat silence that sat awkwardly in between us. “You can’t be my fairy godmother,” I said eventually.

  “Oh, really? Why’s that?”

  “Well, I mean, apart from anything else, you’re the same age as me.” I put aside the whole issue of the existence of fairies — it didn’t seem like a great idea to push it at this stage.

  “Really? What makes you think that?”

  “Well, you look my age.”

  Daisy folded her arms. “We materialize at whatever age is appropriate for our assignments. And for this one, I’m a girl like you,” she said. “Well, not exactly like you, obviously,” she added, looking me up and down as if I were a piece of dirt. “But close enough.”

  I looked back at her. I didn’t care if she’d just “materialized” as a girl. She looked my age — not my mother’s! “I’m still not going to call you my fairy godmother,” I said. “It doesn’t sound right.”

  Daisy sighed. “OK, forget the whole ‘mother’ thing if it bothers you that much,” she said. “Think of me as your fairy godsister.”

  “But there’s no such thing!”

  “Oh, really? What am I, then? A figment of your imagination?”

  Just then, the afternoon bell rang loudly down the hallway. “It doesn’t make me any happier than it makes you,” she said quickly. “But we’re stuck together for now, so we might as well get to work.”

  “Get to work on what?”

  “The assignment. The quicker the assignment’s done, the sooner I’m out of here,” she went on. “Then we can both put the whole thing behind us and never have to see each other again.”

  I swallowed. “OK,” I said. I still didn’t know what she was talking about, but if she wanted it over and done with — whatever “it” was — well, then, so did I!

  “Good,” Daisy replied.

  “Fine,” I said.

  “Fine!” she replied more sharply. Then we headed back to the classroom without exchanging another word.

  I spent the afternoon in a fog of confusion. Daisy and I didn’t speak to each other again all day. We hardly even looked at each other. A couple of times, Miss Holdsworth asked me a question and I had no idea what to say. I didn’t even know what she’d asked me. I couldn’t concentrate on anything except what Daisy had told me.

  I kept sneaking sideways glances at her, hoping I could get my brain to understand what was happening. She was my fairy godmother? Was it possible? Could it be true? I mean, a couple of days ago, I was totally prepared to believe that fairies existed — but then I’d come to my senses! Girls my age don’t believe in fairy godmothers! Or fairy godsisters, or whatever she was. It just wasn’t possible.

  But then there was that incident in the hallway. I could have had a really bad accident if she
hadn’t shoved me just then.

  Coincidence. It must have been.

  It was just some fancy trick. I wouldn’t be surprised if Trisha Miles was behind it somehow. Just a new way to make fun of me.

  For the millionth time that day, I wished that Charlotte was there. I could have told her about it, and she’d have laughed at me again and told me all the reasons why fairy godmothers don’t logically, scientifically exist — never mind fairy godsisters. I laughed at myself, just imagining Charlotte’s voice gently chiding me.

  But there was a tiny nagging thought at the back of my mind. It was just out of reach, and I was happy for it to stay that way. I didn’t want to be troubled by doubt, so I ignored it, and by the end of the afternoon I’d pretty much put the whole conversation out of my mind. Whatever the new girl was up to, I wasn’t going to let her make a fool out of me.

  I had my parents to do that.

  I could see the bright yellow van the second I stepped out of school. I slunk across the playground, praying, as I always prayed, that they wouldn’t sound the horn.

  Trisha’s mom was at the gates in her new BMW convertible. I looked around for Daisy, wondering who would be picking her up and where she lived. Then I caught myself. What was I doing thinking about her? She wasn’t important. She was just someone else who wanted to make me look stupid.

  I climbed into the van. Mom smiled brightly at me. “Good day, hon?” she asked, like she always does.

  “It was OK,” I said as I closed the door behind me.

  “Philippa!”

  Someone was calling me from outside the van. I looked down. Daisy! What did she want now? To make me look like an idiot again? I rolled down the window. “What?” I asked curtly.

  She was holding a large envelope out. “Take this,” she said, thrusting the envelope through the window. It was a shiny metallic color, with swirling pinks and blues and purples. The colors all seemed to glow and move as you looked at them, like a hologram.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Just take it. I’ll explain later. You need to have it, though.”

  Mom leaned across me. “Hello, there,” she said. “Are you a new friend of Philippa’s? I haven’t met you before.”

  “I’m Daisy,” Daisy said. “I just started school here today.”

  I grabbed the envelope. “OK, see you tomorrow,” I said, rolling the window up before Mom could say anything to embarrass me and make matters even worse.

  Mom smiled at Daisy. “Bye, Daisy,” she called. “See you again, I hope.”

  Not if I could help it!

  As we drove away, I looked down at the envelope. My hand tingled and burned where I was holding it, as if there were an electric current running through my fingers. The tingling spread up my arm and ran all the way through my body. It felt so strange. Not only that, it felt familiar. When had I felt it before?

  Then I remembered. When I’d picked the daisy.

  I spun around in my seat to look back at the playground. Daisy was still there. She’d gotten her cell phone out again and was sending someone a text or playing a game on it.

  What was going on? Who was she? What was she?

  I couldn’t concentrate on anything as we drove home. I put the envelope in my backpack and tried to forget about it. I hadn’t decided what to do with it. I didn’t even know if I was going to open it. The thought of it made me shiver.

  I let Mom spend the journey telling me about her day at the shop. In some ways, Mom’s the more normal of my parents. I mean, she’s just as wacky as Dad in her own way; she’s just not quite as loud about it. She wears horrendous clothes that make me cringe if I’m out in public with her — purple baggy tie-dyed pants and scruffy T-shirts with political slogans on them. And then there’s the weird food, and the dancing, and everything. She’s just not like normal moms. I mean, I love her. And I’d never want to hurt her feelings. But I wish my parents would think about my feelings sometimes and try to blend in a bit more.

  I guess she and Dad are a good match, and they get along well — which I should be grateful for. I don’t think I’ve ever heard them argue in my whole life. At least our home is a happy place. But I can’t help sometimes wishing that they didn’t have to be so . . . well, so bonkers.

  Mom doesn’t usually honk the horn when she’s picking me up, but she has been known to turn up in one of the shop’s costumes when she comes straight from work. I mean, how many kids have to worry about their mother turning up at school dressed as a witch?

  For now, I wasn’t worried about Mom. My mind was occupied elsewhere. What was I going to do with the envelope? And how did the envelope, the tingling, the new girl, and the flower I’d picked fit together?

  I went straight to my room when we got home. My daisy chain had wilted even more. It made me think of Charlotte and hope she still had hers. At least the flower in the eggcup was looking fine.

  I wished I could call or e-mail her. But her parents had given up “newfangled” things like phones and computers with the move. I wanted to talk to her so badly. Did she miss me? What had she been doing since she left?

  I slumped down on my bed, desperately hoping I’d hear from her soon. Opening my bag, I took the envelope out. It sparkled and shone, sending tiny rainbows all around my room as it caught the sunlight through the window.

  I sat staring at it for ages. I kept making up my mind to open it, but as soon as I picked it up, I changed my mind again. What if there was something really bad inside? What if I opened it and released an evil spirit and I’d never be free of it?

  Charlotte would know what to do. Why did she have to leave?

  I left the envelope on the bed and tried to think about something else. I emptied out my backpack. We didn’t have any homework. We never got any on the first day back after vacation. For once I wished that we did, so I could have something to occupy my mind.

  It wouldn’t have worked, anyway. No matter what else I did, I could feel the envelope burning through it all, asking to be opened. There was a link with the flower; I knew it. There were too many coincidences for there not to be. Like Daisy’s name, for a start! And the tingling feeling I got from the envelope feeling just like the tingling I got from the daisy.

  And the bruises on Daisy’s arm. She said she’d been thrown out of a window.

  A tree-house window?

  I sat down on my bed and breathed hard. The realization took my breath away.

  It was true. There was no getting around it. Daisy really was a fairy.

  I opened the envelope. As I did, colors flew out from inside it, popping and crackling like fireworks. A streak of yellow shot across my bedroom like a lightning bolt. Pink waves spun out in a circle, whizzing around and around in front of my face. Blue spots jumped and danced like electric raindrops plinking onto the floor.

  I shut the envelope again quickly. Mom was bound to hear. I couldn’t open it in the house.

  The tree house. I’d open it there.

  I shoved the envelope under my sweater and sneaked through the kitchen. Mom was on the phone in the front room. I didn’t want to have to explain anything. I just wanted to be by myself.

  Clutching the envelope tightly, I stepped onto the ladder at the bottom of the tree house. Something caught my eye above me, and I looked up. Light. It looked as if there were a firework display going on inside the tree house! Cracking and snapping and whizzing sounds spun around above my head. Light shot out in sparks, dancing to the popping noise.

  My first thought was to scream, “FIRE!” and run to the house to get Mom.

  My second thought was: This is what Dad saw. Whatever was going on in there, I realized it was connected with what Dad had seen on Saturday night.

  My legs trembled as I inched upward, creeping up the rungs as quietly as I could. My heart banged so hard that it felt as if someone were hitting my chest.

  A couple more steps and then I leaned forward, craning my neck to look inside. And then I looked up — and saw her.<
br />
  Daisy! She was inside my tree house! What was she doing?

  I crouched low, out of sight, and craned my neck to watch. She’d taken her sweater off at last. She was wearing a beautiful white top. It looked as if it were made of feathers! She looked strange without her sweater on. Her shoulder blades stuck out, like two lumps on her back. A white shimmering light flickered all around her body. What was that?

  Daisy stretched and seemed to be talking to herself. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but as she spoke, the most incredible thing happened: The light seemed to grow into her clothes, into her body. And then something even stranger happened. Something was growing out of her jutting shoulder blades.

  Wings! As delicate as the finest silk you could imagine. Patterned in swirling rainbow colors, the edges were soft feathers in pink and purple and turquoise.

  I stared and stared, for a moment forgetting everything else in the world. All I could think was, It’s true. Daisy is my fairy!

  And then she turned around.

  “YOU!” she exclaimed, spotting me. “What are you doing here?”

  She backed away to the opposite edge of the tree house, folding her arms defiantly and pursing her lips in an angry frown. The scowl didn’t suit her in the same way that it had at school. It’s not easy to look hard and tough when you’re wearing a shimmering, sparkling feathery top and you have the most beautiful wings in the world sticking out of your back.

  “You’re a fairy,” I said simply, smiling at her despite everything. “You’re my fairy.”

  “I am not your fairy!” she burst out. “Don’t ever say that again!”

  “I — but I thought you —”

  “Yes, I know what you thought,” Daisy snapped. “You thought you could just pick me and own me, and that I’d follow along behind you, doing everything you want. You thought what fun it would be to have a fairy all your own, and how you’d have me at your beck and call, and how special I’d make your life. Didn’t you?”

  I didn’t know what to say. She was right. I had thought she would be my fairy, and I did think it would make my life special. Was that so wrong?