by Simon Cherry
“Now that sounds more like it,” said the Emperor.
With a blare of trumpets, her music centre burst into life, and Celia began to stamp her feet and twirl her long skirt as she danced.
“That should keep him busy for long enough,” said Eddy, who was listening from the next room.
But then.
CLACK-CLACK
“Did you hear that? said Eddy. “It sounds like castanets.”
CLACK-CLACK
The sound wasn’t just like castanets. It was castanets. Castanets that chattered between Celia Chillworth’s fingers.
The noise drifted out through the thin canvas walls of the palace, over the heads of Hen and her construction team, and across the lawns and flower beds of the garden at Tidemark Manor…
…straight into the ears of Claudius the camel, who at that moment was contentedly chewing his way through a particularly tasty stretch of shrubbery.
At the sound of the first CLACK, his jaw froze in mid-chomp.
At the sound of the second CLACK, his head jolted upright.
By the third CLACK, he broke into an itchy, twitchy dance that drew him towards the source of the irresistible sound.
He trampled through a patch of tulips, skittered across the lawn and crashed into the room that Hen and her team were building.
went one of the canvas panels as his head came straight through it.
went the wooden frame as the rest of his body followed.
went Claudius as his legs flew out in every direction, scattering the building team.
went Jeremy Grubb as Claudius’s flailing feet got tangled up in the long strands of his hair that had been spread out to carpet the room.
Claudius added as he continued on his unstoppable way towards the room where the Emperor was sitting.
went the door into that room as Claudius slammed through it.
went Celia Chillworth as she dropped her castanets and fled from the sweaty beast that was bearing down on her.
went the wall that Claudius had just bashed as it began to tip forward.
went Hen, as she grabbed hold of the wall to try to stop it falling.
went Mitzee as the wall carried on toppling towards them.
panted Claudius as his body finally stopped twitching.
went the wall as it hit the ground just in front of the Emperor.
said the Emperor, as Hen landed face downwards, still clinging on to the fallen wall.
And
went Eddy’s hopes of winning the contest.
Everywhere Eddy looked, there was CHAOS. Claudius was tangled up in Jeremy Grubb’s hair. Splinters of wood and shreds of canvas were strewn across the floor.
The whole thing was a MESS.
A DISASTER.
A FAILURE.
So terrible that the Emperor was rocking with laughter.
“Well,” said a voice in Eddy’s ear. It was the Genie. “I don’t think there’s much doubt about which one of us has won. I’d like to say nice try. But it wasn’t, really, was it?”
Eddy felt sick. What had he been thinking? It had been stupid of him to imagine that they could ever beat the Genie. That canvas and paint could ever be a match for magic and marble.
So now the Wizard wasn’t going to get his body back, and Tidemark Bay was going to carry on being crazy, and his mum and dad were stuck as a young girl and a sofa. He wondered if that made him an orphan? It certainly left him on his own.
“The winner of the contest is obvious,” said the Emperor, when he finally stopped laughing at Tidemark Bay’s terrible effort. “That white marble palace was beautiful. The stained glass gorgeous. The waterfall, the beach, the tropical gardens, all wonderful.”
Okay, Eddy thought, we know. No need to rub it in.
“I asked for a palace of fun,” the Emperor continued. “And fun is what I got. So the winner is…the Tidemark Bay Palace.”
“What?” said Eddy.
“What?” said the Genie.
“I’ve never laughed so much in my life,” said the Emperor. “Oh, the marble and the glass and the pillars and the waterfall and the beach and the garden were all so tasteful. It took me a while to catch on to what the Tidemark Bay team were up to. But from the talking shoes and that tatty painted entrance to the awful actor and the big comedy finish, their rickety wreck was a hoot. Nice pies, too. And those crisps. Delicious.”
“But…” said the Genie.
“No buts,” said the Emperor. “I’m in charge. Give the Wizard his body back as we promised, and then we can all go home.”
It took a matter of seconds for the Genie to cast a spell that restored Wizard Witterwort. His flat green shape solidified into a human figure. Who was still, rather surprisingly, green.
“Oh,” said the Wizard. “You know, I was rather hoping that would have worn off after all these years. Another spell that went wrong.”
“Get rid of the green,” said the Emperor. “It’s making me feel rather queasy.”
The Genie cast another spell, and the Wizard’s skin took on a natural colour.
“Thank you all for restoring me,” he said.
“Can we put things straight round Tidemark Bay now?” said Eddy.
“It has already begun,” said the Genie. “By tomorrow everything will be as it was.”
“Splendid,” said the Emperor. “All back to normal.” He turned to Mitzee. “Well, my dear. It looks like this is goodbye.”
“Don’t tell me,” said Mitzee. “All back to normal means I’m going to be a doll again. You’re dumping me, aren’t you? WAAAAAHHHH!” she began to wail.
“It looks like goodbye…” said the Emperor, struggling to make himself heard as Mitzee sobbed.
“WAAAAAAAAAAAA…”
“…unless you will come back with me and be my Empress. Will you marry me?”
“WAAAAAAAAAAA…of course I will, Babes.” The wailing stopped as suddenly as it had started. “But I’m not going to be one of those palace wives who just sit around all day doing nothing. I’ve discovered my passion – interior design and decoration. And I can’t wait to give your palace a good makeover. Those gold walls are so last year.”
“But—” said the Emperor.
“No buts. We’re going for something elegant and sophisticated – like me. I’m thinking Scarlet Splurge and Lime Zinger for the throne room. What do you say, Babes?”
“I—” said the Emperor.
“You’ll love it,” said Mitzee. “So that’s sorted.” She turned to Hen. “You don’t mind, do you? Not having me here to talk to any more?”
“It’s fine by me. Go and have a good life,” said Hen. She looked at Eddy. “I’ve got a friend I can talk to now.”
“Splendid,” said the Emperor. “So, everyone has what they want. Except for one thing. Those crisps that were in the fountain. Delicious. I must have some more of them.”
“I made those,” said the Wizard.
“Really,” said the Emperor. “Then do it again. You’ve got your magic back now.”
“If your Genie will do something for me in return,” said the Wizard. “Make this my last spell. Take away my magic. It just goes wrong and causes trouble. I don’t want it any more.”
“Make it happen,” the Emperor said to the Genie. “Now – those crisps. I can’t wait to taste that delicious beef and mint and cheese and ketchup and sausage and pineapple flavour again.”
“Let me see,” said the Wizard. “I think I can remember.” He muttered a few words and clapped his hands together.
A ripple ran through the garden. A cow suddenly appeared on the lawn. It was chewing a large sprig of mint, and had a string of sausages hung round its neck, a potato stuck to one of its horns, and a stack of pineapple rings on the other.
“Ah,” said the former Wizard Witterwort. “That didn’t come out quite right.”
“Hopeless,” said the Emperor. “Genie, make me some crisps.”
“Unfortunately, master, you ate every last scrap. I h
ave nothing to taste so I can work out how to copy the curious flavour that you described. So I can’t.”
“But I want them,” the Emperor shouted. “I can’t have them and I WANT THEM!”
And then he stopped shouting. “How very interesting. How very tantalizing. Do you know what you people have done? You have given me the one thing in the world that the Genie could not. Something to desire. After all these years of being bored because I could have anything I could think of, there is now something I can think of that I can’t have. I can’t tell you how precious that feeling is.”
It seemed that everything was coming good. But it wasn’t quite over.
“What is going on in my garden?” a gruff voice called out. An angry-looking man in a pinstriped suit was stomping towards them.
“It’s my dad,” said Hen. “He must have come back from his meeting with the architect.”
“Who are these people? What’s all this mess? And what is that big white building?” Mr Crumb bellowed.
“And where are my crisps?” Chris P was trotting behind him.
“We can clear everything up in an instant,” said the Emperor. “Genie, sweep up the mess and get rid of your palace.”
“Wait!” said Eddy. “You’re not just going to destroy it, are you? It’s beautiful.”
“Wait!” said Chris P. “You can’t let him, Dad. It’s got a cinema and go-karts and a pool and everything we want to add to this old place.”
“Wait!” said Mr Crumb. “I heard what my lad said. It’s on my land, and as far as I am concerned, that’s means it’s mine. Don’t touch it. It will save us a fortune in builder’s fees.”
“It’s not yours,” said Hen. “You had nothing to do with it. It’s only here because of all the rotten things that have happened to everyone in Tidemark Bay. If anyone deserves it, it’s them. They should all be allowed to share it.”
“Share!” shouted Mr Crumb indignantly. “SHARE! For nothing in return? I’ll have you know, my girl…”
Hen never heard what he wanted her to know. And nor did anyone else. At a signal from the Emperor, the Genie turned Mr Crumb into a frog. Everyone could tell it was him, because he was still wearing a pinstriped suit.
“RIBBIT!” said Mr Crumb.
“That’s better,” said the Emperor. “Much quieter. I think your idea of everyone sharing the palace is a splendid one. And your father obviously hates the thought of letting other people use it. Which makes it even more splendid. So, Mr Crumb, here is your choice. You can agree to let everyone share, or my genie will take it away, and then you will have to pay the enormous cost of building something new. One ribbit for no, two ribbits for yes. And then we’ll turn you back into a human.”
“He won’t like that,” said Hen.
And he didn’t.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen an angry frog before,” said Eddy.
Mr Crumb hopped round the garden until he went red in the face, turning over the agonizing choice between giving something away or spending heaps of money.
Finally he stopped hopping. He beat his front feet furiously up and down on the lawn for a moment. And then, “RIBBIT!” he said. “RIBBIT!”
“Excellent decision,” said the Emperor, as Mr Crumb returned to his usual shape. “It’s good to share. Of course, if you ever change your mind and want to stop other people using the palace…”
“Yes?” said Mr Crumb.
“…my Genie will change you into a frog again. So keep your word.”
And that was how Tidemark Bay got its splendid new Leisure Centre.
“One last thing,” said Eddy. “This building is only here because a long time ago the old owner of the Manor brought home Wizard Witterwort in his lamp. She was an incredible traveller, and I think she deserves to be remembered by the town.”
“Genie,” said the Emperor. “See to it.”
And that was how the Tidemark Bay Leisure Centre got its splendid bronze statue of Madeleine Montagu on her pogo stick, hair and skirts flying, looking as if she was about to bounce right off her pedestal.
After that things returned to normal.
The Emperor, the Genie, Mitzee and Six went back to the Emperor’s city. The Emperor even took Claudius with them. He had realized that he could have great fun with visitors by asking them to play the castanets when the camel was around.
Wizard Witterwort became plain Walter Witterwort, and stayed in Tidemark Bay. He missed living in his old lamp, but he soon found a home in a much bigger one, when he got a job as the curator of the Old Lighthouse Museum. On clear nights he sometimes fired up the antique light, and used it to make shadow puppets on the cliffs beside the bay.
Chris P never got his crisps back. But he spent all his spare time trying to recreate that mixed-up flavour that really should not have been delicious, but was.
As for Eddy – he went back home. When he woke the next day, everything in Tidemark Bay was back to how it had been before the wishes, just as the Genie had said it would be. He went downstairs. His parents were already sitting at the breakfast table, sharing a pot of tea.
“Everything okay?” said Eddy, pouring out a big bowl of his favourite Choccy Puffs.
“Fine,” said his mum and dad.
It was as if nothing strange had ever happened. Almost.
“Except,” said his dad, wriggling in his chair, “it’s very odd. I keep finding digestive biscuit crumbs in my pants.”
Eddy decided not to try to explain that one. It was a long story.
Before he started writing children’s books, Simon Cherry spent almost twenty years making television documentaries in the Arts Department at ITV. He has also written for newspapers, magazines and the stage. Simon lives in Surrey with his wife, two teenage sons, and a ginger cat who is in charge of everyone else. When not writing, he spends a lot of time looking at the garden and wishing it would weed itself. So far, this has not worked.
First published in the UK in 2018 by Usborne Publishing Ltd.,
Usborne House, 83-85 Saffron Hill, London EC1N 8RT, England. www.usborne.com
Text copyright © Simon Cherry, 2018
The right of Simon Cherry to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
Illustrations copyright © Usborne Publishing Ltd., 2018
Illustrations by Francis Blake.
The name Usborne and the devices are Trade Marks of Usborne Publishing Ltd.
All rights reserved. This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or used in any way except as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or loaned or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Epub ISBN: 9781474948265
Kindle ISBN: 9781474948272
