Tilly and the Bookwanderers

by Anna James

  Grandma grinned at him affectionately as he sat back down and started working on the shopping list. As Oskar returned back to his drawings and Grandma looked back at the guest list Tilly kicked her heels together, not sure how she was supposed to be helping.

  ‘Why don’t I go and get some copies of Alice in Wonderland maybe?’ she suggested. ‘For inspiration.’

  ‘Ah, good idea, Tilly, yes, of course. But, um, don’t stray too far, yes?’ Grandma looked intently at her, and she nodded her understanding.

  Once she arrived in the children’s section, instead of heading for the C shelf to find Carroll, Lewis, Tilly went to the shelf above for Burnett, Frances Hodgson and pulled down a few different copies of A Little Princess. She settled down to compare the books herself. She found the bakery scene in three different editions – and they were all the same as each other, but also the same as her mother’s copy. Tilly felt a cold, leaden feeling settle in her stomach. She had been so sure she was going to find some clues to her parents’ love story, and yet her mum’s copy seemed to be entirely normal. She checked the whole opening, in which her father appeared, against all the books and had to accept they were word for word the same. Which meant, she realised with a jolt, that it was Chalk’s copy that was different.

  As she sat with the pile of books next to her a familiar voice said, ‘Why, hello again,’ and Alice settled down next to her in a rustle of petticoats.

  ‘You look most perturbed,’ she said. ‘Do you want to escape for a bit with me?’ She held out her hand to Tilly who shuffled away.

  ‘I’ve got to stay here and help,’ Tilly said firmly. ‘Plus, yesterday, I tried to go inside a book and everything went wrong.’ Tilly found herself distinctly wobbly about the idea of bookwandering after everything that had happened the day before, not to mention desperate for some time to herself to think about what she’d learned.

  ‘Boring!’ Alice said. ‘Firstly, no one will notice you’ve gone, and secondly you’ll be with me so it’s fine. Do you want to come and see the most beautiful garden?’

  ‘Maybe you could stay here and talk instead? Or help?’ Tilly said hopefully.

  ‘What are you doing?’ said Alice.

  ‘We’re getting ready for the party,’ Tilly said.

  ‘Oh, how marvellous,’ Alice said, clapping her hands together in delight. ‘I love parties. Will you have games?’

  ‘Um, maybe,’ Tilly said. ‘Although it’s more of a chatting sort of party.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like a party to me, and I know the most wonderful game – it’s called a caucus race.’

  ‘And how do you play that?’ Tilly asked. ‘Isn’t it kind of chaotic?’

  Alice paused. ‘The best way to explain it is to do it, really.’

  ‘Well, you’ll have to try, because I’m not coming with you,’ Tilly said.

  ‘Fine,’ Alice huffed. ‘Well, you need a racetrack, which should be a circle sort of shape, but it doesn’t really matter so much, and then everyone starts running until the race is finished.’

  ‘But how do you know when it has finished?’ Tilly asked.

  ‘I’m not quite sure, to be honest. The first time I saw it I was confused, I admit. Everyone got prizes, so I suppose everyone won.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound like it makes much sense, and I don’t think we could have a race in the shop anyway.’

  Alice sighed. ‘No, you’re probably right. Sometimes being sensible is ever so dull, don’t you find?’

  ‘I suppose,’ Tilly said, ‘although sometimes being sensible is, well, the sensible thing to do.’

  ‘How contrary you sound,’ Alice replied. She paused. ‘I really do think you should come with me to the garden, you know; it’s ever so beautiful.’

  ‘I can’t. I promised Grandma I’d stay here. Maybe we could go after the party?’ Tilly suggested.

  ‘I would like to go now actually,’ Alice said. ‘I’ve not had a friend like you before and I want you to come with me.’ She leaned over and tried to grab Tilly’s hand.

  ‘No!’ Tilly said, snatching her hand away, but Alice managed to get hold of her little finger and the shop began to melt away just as Tilly pulled her hand back.

  ‘Bother,’ she heard Alice say as she faded away.

  illy was in a garden, but Alice was not. The garden was beautiful, though, Alice had been right about that. There were red roses growing everywhere, with ornate fountains dotted around bright flower beds. Tilly absent-mindedly touched a rose and was alarmed to see that her fingers came away red. She thought she had pricked her finger until she realised that it was paint and that the roses were white underneath a messy layer of red paint.

  Of course, she thought, I’m in the Queen of Hearts’s garden, and she started looking for Alice with more urgency. A small wooden door in a tree was suddenly flung open and Tilly nearly fell over as a giant version of Alice’s face appeared at the doorway.

  ‘What are you doing in there? And why are you so big?’ Tilly whispered.

  ‘Oh bother,’ Alice said. ‘I’ve ended up on the wrong side again. Hang on.’

  ‘No!’ Tilly shouted after her. ‘I’ll come through to you! I’m small enough to get through the door and I don’t fancy running into the Queen of Hearts by myself, not with her habit of chopping people’s heads off.’

  It was a bit of a squeeze to get through the door in the tree, but when Tilly did she realised that she only came up to Alice’s knee.

  Alice picked her up carefully and took her over to a huge three-legged table made of glass and placed her on top. There was a bottle with a paper label marked ‘DRINK ME’ and a tiny golden key, and Tilly felt as though she was experiencing déjà vu. Alice was crouched down on the floor, looking for something.

  ‘Aha, here it is,’ she said triumphantly, setting down a cake next to the bottle. The cake was marked in raisins. ‘Now, if I could just remember which way round they are …’

  ‘I think maybe the cake is for growing, and the drink for shrinking,’ Tilly said, ‘seeing as how the cake was on the floor and the bottle is up here.’

  ‘Now, you say that, but things here can be rather topsy-turvy, so perhaps the opposite is true,’ Alice said, reaching for the bottle.

  ‘No, no, no!’ Tilly shouted. ‘I definitely think you should just try a crumb of the cake first. And — Stop, Alice! Wait! You need to put me on the floor first, with the bottle, so we have all the options available.’

  Alice stared at her. ‘You’re ever so logical,’ she said in a pitying voice. ‘No wonder you don’t fit in here.’

  ‘Since when was being logical a bad thing?’ Tilly said accusingly. ‘It means you don’t get stuck at the wrong size constantly.’

  ‘Now, I know you must have a good imagination, otherwise you couldn’t be here, but it’s hardly on display. Curiosity creates the very best adventures in my experience. That’s what your mother used to say, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. Be brave, be curious, be kind,’ Tilly said.

  ‘Well, exactly. She sounds like she knew what she was talking about.’ And with that Alice placed Tilly down on the floor alongside the bottle and popped the whole cake into her mouth in one go. Within seconds she had shrunk to the same size as Tilly.

  ‘You’d better have that key,’ Tilly said. Alice opened her palm to reveal it shining in her hand.

  Alice grinned triumphantly. ‘Shall we?’

  They walked back to the tiny door, which Alice made a great song and dance about opening with a dramatic flourish, and they were back in the beautiful garden with its roses dripping with paint.

  Alice touched one gingerly and her fingertips came away red.

  ‘I wonder why they have been painted,’ she said. ‘They already looked so beautiful.’

  ‘It’s because it’s the Queen of Hearts’s garden,’ Tilly said. ‘You must know that; it’s your story.’

  ‘It’s the queen’s garden?’ Alice said in horror. ‘I’ve heard the most monstrous th
ings about her. We must make sure she doesn’t spot us.’

  ‘What? How do you—’

  But Tilly was interrupted by three gardeners, all dressed as playing cards, manically dabbing at roses that had not yet been painted.

  ‘Look out now, Five! Don’t go splashing paint over me like that!’

  ‘I couldn’t help it,’ said the Five of Spades. ‘Seven jogged my elbow!’

  ‘That’s right, Five!’ grumbled the third gardener. ‘Always lay the blame on others.’

  The arguing went on for ages until Seven threw its paintbrush down, splattering bursts of red paint all over the grass and the other gardeners. It turned away from them, crossing its arms in a sulk, and laid eyes on Tilly and Alice, watching them with mouth open.

  ‘Would you tell me, please,’ asked Alice, ‘why you are painting the roses?’

  ‘Why, the fact is, you see, miss,’ said the Two of Spades, ‘this here ought to have been a red rose tree and we put a white one in by mistake, and, if the queen was to find it out, we should all have our heads cut off, you know. So you see, miss, we’re doing our best, afore she comes, to—’

  But it was too late, and the gardeners flung themselves to the ground as Tilly heard a great racket coming towards them.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Tilly hissed, pulling at Alice’s hand, and they darted behind a bush just before the royal parade came round the corner. Tilly gasped as she saw a procession of playing cards followed by a great gaggle of people, a white rabbit wearing a waistcoat and pocket watch, and then the King and Queen of Hearts themselves. They were both quite square-looking and dressed in incredibly ornate robes, like the Tudor kings and queens from Tilly’s history books at school. The king had some very elaborate facial hair, with a beard that ended in an extravagant curl on his chin. The queen had a gravity-defying hairstyle and was clutching a large gilt hand mirror shaped like a heart.

  ‘Please can we go back to Pages & Co.?’ Tilly said, not liking the look of the queen at all.

  ‘Hang on, hang on,’ Alice said. ‘I want to watch. I don’t mind if you don’t stay, though.’

  ‘But how do I get back without you?’ Tilly said desperately as the queen stalked ever closer to them.

  ‘I don’t think you can, my darling,’ said a new voice, and Tilly spun round to see a wide grin floating in the air right next to her ear.

  he smile hovered and flickered as it grinned at Tilly. She nudged Alice, who huffed at being torn away from watching the chaotic croquet game that was now going on – were those flamingos? – and turned.

  ‘What is it? I’ve already told you I don’t want to take you back yet.’

  Tilly pointed at the smile. ‘Is that—’ she started.

  ‘Why, it’s only the Cheshire Cat,’ Alice interrupted, and went back to watching the croquet – they were definitely flamingos. And at that the whole cat materialised: ginger, stripy and purring.

  The cat noticed Tilly staring at it.

  ‘Never heard a talking cat before?’ it asked and Tilly started. She knew it could talk from reading the book, but it was still surprising to hear a large cat say something in English.

  ‘I haven’t, actually,’ Tilly said. ‘But I met a talking dormouse, and a hare, the other day.’

  ‘Ah excellent,’ the cat replied. ‘You’re obviously familiar with Wonderland and its inhabitants. How delightful to meet a fan.’ It curled its tail elegantly in Tilly’s direction.

  ‘How do you know you’re in a story when no one else does?’ Tilly said, looking sideways at Alice. ‘I haven’t been able to get any straight answers out of anyone about this.’

  ‘You’re not likely to get any straight answers from me either, I’m afraid.’ The cat grinned. ‘Although you’re welcome to ask.’

  ‘I just don’t understand what’s real, and what’s imagination,’ Tilly said.

  ‘I find most things are a mixture of the two. And reality is overrated – she’s an unpredictable mistress.’ The cat smiled again. ‘She shifts and slides and never behaves quite as you might like or expect. She’s a tricksy friend to have. Not to mention that she’s even more difficult in Wonderland.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Tilly asked.

  ‘Well, is Wonderland really real at all? Is Wonderland more real than where Alice has come from, or where you have come from? You’re both visitors to the land, and who’s to say which or where or who has the greatest claim on reality?’ the cat said.

  ‘But this must be some sort of real; we’re here right now,’ Tilly said, grabbing at a nearby rose bush, her head starting to spin.

  ‘Are the things in your imagination less real than the things in front of you? Is this rose more real than you? Do the books you’ve read mean less to you because they haven’t really happened to you? Do daydreams at midday or nightdreams at midnight mean nothing?’

  ‘So am I really here?’

  ‘Why, of course you are really here.’ The cat flashed its teeth mischievously. ‘But who’s to say exactly where here really is, and who’s to say where you’re going. You might walk right off the end of Wonderland.’

  ‘I can walk off the end of Wonderland?’ Tilly asked.

  ‘You can walk off the end of any story,’ the cat said. ‘But remember to mind the gap. And don’t tell them I told you.’

  ‘Don’t tell who?’ Tilly asked, even more confused.

  ‘The secret keepers, the gate watchers, the border guards, the door lockers,’ the cat said languidly.

  Tilly huffed. ‘You’re no help at all.’

  The Cheshire Cat just grinned once more, before turning its attention to Alice.

  ‘How are you getting on, dear Alice?’ it asked. Alice started relaying how unjust the croquet game was in great detail.

  ‘I don’t think they play at all fairly,’ Alice complained. ‘And they all quarrel so dreadfully one can’t hear oneself speak – and there don’t seem to be any rules in particular; at least, if there are, nobody attends to them – and you’ve no idea how confusing it is all the equipment being alive …’

  The cat good-naturedly rolled its eyes at Tilly as Alice went on at length.

  ‘How do you like the queen?’ it asked.

  ‘Not at all!’ exclaimed Alice. ‘She’s so extremely …’ Alice paused as she realised that the game had ground to a halt and everyone involved was now staring in their direction. The queen held out a hand, which the king rapidly took hold of, and they strutted in Alice and Tilly’s direction. As they approached them Alice kicked Tilly into a curtsy, but the king was more interested in the cat’s floating head.

  ‘Who are you talking to?’ he said.

  ‘A friend,’ Alice said as the cat shimmered in and out of existence, just to disconcert the king.

  ‘I don’t like the look of it at all,’ the king said a little rudely. ‘However, it may kiss my hand, if it likes.’

  ‘I’d really rather not,’ the cat said, and casually licked its sharp front teeth.

  ‘Don’t be impertinent,’ huffed the king. ‘My dear, my dear,’ he said to the queen. ‘Look at this strange creature I have discovered.’

  The queen peered at the cat. ‘Off with his head!’ she shrieked. And, at that, everything descended once more into chaos, everyone arguing with everyone else, the queen calling for the executioner, and flamingos running amok. Amid the madness the cat winked at Tilly and dissolved away, so by the time an executioner had been found and shoved to the front by the queen there was no evidence it had ever been there at all.

  ‘Shall we follow suit?’ Alice asked, holding out her hand to Tilly, who grasped it firmly.

  ‘Goodness,’ Alice said beside her, as Pages & Co. rebuilt itself around them, ‘it would have been quite the disaster to have our heads chopped off by the Queen of Hearts, wouldn’t it?’ She did not seem appropriately alarmed by this prospect. ‘Oh! And you should play croquet at your party, don’t you think – wouldn’t that be wonderful? Do you think you could get hold of some flamingos?’ Ali
ce asked thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps we could give them some sleeping tonic to calm them down.’

  Tilly looked at her in horror. ‘Are you joking?’

  ‘No, I think it’s an excellent idea. I daresay the flamingos would enjoy it more.’

  ‘You have a very unusual perspective on the world,’ Tilly said.

  ‘Depends whose you are comparing it to,’ Alice said sagely.

  illy headed back downstairs to find Oskar laughing with Jack as he cut out intricate flowers and vines from coloured paper and Grandma spoke to someone on the phone behind the till.

  ‘Everything okay?’ he asked as Tilly sat down.

  ‘We need to chat in a bit,’ she said vaguely. ‘You know, about the stuff we were talking about before.’ Oskar looked at her quizzically but nodded. At that moment Grandma came back over and put a gentle hand on Oskar’s shoulder.

  ‘It’s your mum on the phone, Oskar. She wants a word. Nothing too serious, I don’t—’ But Oskar was already on his feet, heading to the till. ‘His mamie has to go into hospital for some tests,’ Grandma said to Jack and Tilly. ‘His father needs to look after her, so Mary’s got to get the train over to pick up his sister. She’s asked if Oskar can stay over here tonight, maybe tomorrow too, depending on whether she needs to help with anything in Paris. I’m guessing Oskar’s going to be feeling a bit delicate, though, so we’ll need to all rally round and make sure he’s doing okay.’

  Oskar came back to the table, looking a little wobbly. ‘Did Mum tell you?’ he asked Grandma, who nodded.

  ‘We’re very happy that you’re here, Oskar, even though it’s in slightly sad circumstances, but it sounds like there’s no need to worry, and they’re just going to make sure everything’s okay, as I’m sure your mum told you. It’s just easier for your dad to have Emilie over here for a little bit. And we could certainly do with another pair of hands for the party tomorrow night – look how much you’ve helped already. Tilly, why don’t you take Oskar upstairs and get the spare bed sorted for him?’