Black Wood (A Witch Rising) (4 page)

Was he serious? Emily scowled.
“It wasn’t the aliens.”

Sam removed the headpiece from
her head and heaved a sigh. “Okay, what did you do?”

“Why would you think I had
something to do with it?” Emily said.

Staring at her, Sam poked a
finger in her chest. “Because you keep saying it wasn’t the aliens.
There’s no one else left to blame.”

Emily pursed her lips. Should
she tell him straight-away even though he most certainly wouldn’t
believe her? Sooner or later she had to anyway. Someone who
believed in aliens would surely believe in magic diaries.

“Okay, I’ll tell you, but you
must promise not to tell anyone. If Mum or Dad finds out, I’ll be
in a lot of trouble,” Emily whispered.

“As if I would.” Sam sniggered.
“I’m in as much trouble as you are. Actually, I’m in
more
trouble. You know how they always blame me.”

Emily nodded. “Cause you always
get in trouble.”

“Come on, tell me what you did,”
Sam prompted.

Emily inhaled deeply before
replying. “I didn’t do anything. Well, at least not on purpose. You
see, I got this diary from Aurelie.”

Sam held up a hand. “Wait! Who’s
Aurelie?”

“Our next-door neighbour. She
drives me home from school, but she’s strange and has a weird
nephew. She said the diary was magic and that every wish I wrote
down would come true.”

Sam laughed. “What a load of
rubbish. You don’t actually believe that.”

“That’s what I thought at
first.” Emily raised her eyebrows. “But when I opened it last
night, I felt really weird. This voice was talking in my head,
telling me what to do. So I wrote down I wished you were here, and
see what happened?”

“And you really think that has
something to do with the diary?” He looked disappointed.

Emily plopped down on a chair.
“Do you have any other idea? And please don’t say aliens
again.”

“They’re still my best bet but
you could have a point too. Maybe it was the diary, and maybe not.
Let’s try and find out. Show it to me.”

“Okay.” Emily walked to the bed
to pull out the book from under the pillow. She lifted the sheets
and gasped. The diary wasn’t there. “It’s not here. Where is
it?”

Sam walked up behind her. “Are
you talking about that ugly, old book?”

Emily glared at him. “What did
you do with it?”

“Nothing. No reason to yell at
me. I put it in here. See?” Sam opened a drawer and retrieved the
black box. “How was I supposed to nap with that thing under my
head?”

“How many times did I tell you
not to rummage through my things? You always take something and
don’t return it.” Emily snatched the box out of his hands and
pulled out the diary. “Did you read it?”

“There’s nothing in there.”

“So, you did,” Emily said.

“You didn’t write anything.” Sam
grabbed the diary and opened it. “It’s blank.”

“Let me see.” Emily rose on her
toes to peek over her brother’s shoulder. “That’s not possible. I
told you I wrote in it last night. I swear I wrote about three
pages.”

“I believe you.” Sam’s finger
traced the edge of the book. “Maybe it disappears once the wish is
fulfilled. Come on, grab a pen and start writing.”

“I don’t know what.” Emily
suddenly felt shy.

“Why don’t you just write down
you wish me back home?”

She snatched the diary from him.
“Good idea. Worth a shot.”

Dear Diary,

I wish Sam to return to our
house in London.

Yours,

Emily

With Sam towering over her, she
finished writing the last word and looked up. Sam hovered in the
same spot, his eyes wide with anticipation.

“You’re still here?”

Sam peered around him. “I am.
Maybe it happens while we’re sleeping. Let’s take an afternoon
nap.” Sam climbed into the bed and pulled the covers around him.
Emily snuggled next to him. It wasn’t long before they fell asleep,
the excitement of the day draining their last energy resources.

A thunderous bang on the door
jolted her awake.

“No closed doors, Emily.” Her
father banged on the wood. “It’s dinner time.”

Throwing the covers off, Emily
jumped, ready to bolt for the door. “No, Dad! Wait!”

But it was too late. The latch
clicked and the door swung open. Her father took a step forward,
then waited, his hand still clutching the doorknob as he cocked his
head, hesitating. His eyes scanned the room before they fixed on
her. “Were you asleep?”

Emily moved slowly toward the
door. “Uh, no, Dad, I wasn’t.” Her legs where shaking, her hands
felt clammy and cold as she rubbed her upper arms. She needed to
get him out of the room before Sam woke up.

Her father continued to look at
her. “I just went to see Aurelie. She told me apparently I agreed
to let you stay on your own after school. Is that true?”

“I'm sorry, Dad. I couldn’t
focus on my homework with Clifford bugging me all the time and
Aurelie trying to get me to drink her tea that tastes like dog
poop. Mum would have understood,” Emily said, hoping he wouldn’t
make a big fuss. She knew her father felt bad every time she
mentioned her mother would act differently. Sam taught her that
trick.

Like on cue, the expression on
his face softened. “Of course, I don’t mind. You're old enough. But
next time let me know beforehand. I don’t like you being on your
own in this huge house, or lying to Aurelie, for that matter.”

Emily nodded as she rubbed her
sweaty palms against her jeans. “Sure, Dad. I’ll remember. See you
later.”

He was almost out the door, just
one tiny step, when he spun around, and Emily’s heart almost
dropped in her chest. Her father stomped toward the bed. She
whimpered. Now he’d see Sam and they’d both be in serious
trouble.

“How many times do I have to
tell you no food or drinks in your room?” He furrowed his eyebrows
as he picked up the glasses from the bedside table.

Emily dared a quick glance
toward the raised bedcover. “Sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“What did you need two glasses
for? We already have a stack in the sink.” Her father shook his
head. “Never mind. Let’s have dinner. I bet you’re starved.”

Emily breathed out, relieved, as
they retreated down the hall. She’d check on Sam later, as soon as
her father locked himself in his study. And she had no doubt her
father would return to his work as usual.

As soon as dinner finished,
Emily went back to her room and closed the door behind her. The bed
sheets were still in disarray. She pulled them aside. Sam wasn’t
there. She scanned the room. Where had he gone? She shook her head.
Probably searching for new ways to be a nuisance.

“Sam? Dad’s gone. You can come
out now.” She stopped to listen but no answer.

She looked in the bathroom and
underneath her bed. She opened the wardrobe door but saw only
neatly arranged clothes. Sitting down on the bed, she sighed. Sam
was nowhere in sight. Did the diary really work?

One last attempt, and then she’d
believe it. “Sam! Are you still here?” She kept her voice down.
When she received no answer, she knew he was gone.

For a while she just sat on the
edge of her bed, thinking, pangs of worry washing over her.
Hopefully, he arrived safely.

“Dad, do you mind if I call
Mum?” Emily shouted down the hall so her father would hear from his
study.

“Go on,” he yelled back.

The phone rang once, twice.
Pick up, pick up.
Emily’s heart pumped in her chest. Maybe
no one was home. Finally, she heard her mother’s voice on the other
end of the line.

“Hi, Mummy.”

“Emily, darling, I was about to
call Dad and you. How are you? How’s school?”

Emily sighed. Those were the
same things her mother said whenever she called. “We’re fine, Mum.
Is Sam there? Can I talk to him?”

“He just arrived about half an
hour ago. He was supposed to spend the night at his friend’s house,
but his mother cancelled. Wait, let me get him for you.” Emily
heard shuffling and then her mother call, “Sam! Phone. It’s your
sister!”

He was there! Relief flooded
over her. Sam got home okay, and she wished she were there with
him. More than ever before she missed her friends and her old room.
Sniffing, she held the receiver away from her ear until she heard
her brother’s voice.

“It worked!” Sam whispered. His
voice went up a notch.

“I can’t believe it,” Emily
said. “Now you can visit all the time.”

“Oh, Em! I have a list of things
you just have to get me. A new Playstation. Maybe a scooter. And a
bike. You’re my favourite sister in the whole wide world!”

Emily pouted. “I’m your
only
sister, dummy. ’Till now you always said I was a
pain.”

“That’s not true. Just one wish.
Please! Besides, you owe me for not telling Mum and Dad.”

“Maybe. I’ll think about it.
Have to go.” After finishing the conversation with Sam, Emily hung
up and walked to the kitchen. Of course she’d get him something
after letting him beg a little.

Her father stirred in a pot.
Whatever was in there, smelled a bit burned. “How’re Mum and Sam?”
Beads of sweat gathered above his brows.

Emily peeked inside the pot and
pulled a face at the huge brown chunks swimming in a red gooey
sauce. Not baked beans and sausage again. Why couldn’t he just cook
something else for a change? “They’re fine, Dad. I hoped you’d want
to talk to Mum.”

Her father looked away. “Don’t
think your mum would have wanted to talk to me.”

“You didn’t even try.”

“Guess what? I just had an
amazing idea. Maybe Mum and Sam could come over for Christmas
instead of us going back to London. What do you say?”

Emily’s jaw dropped. That’s
exactly what she had been hoping for. What a great diary.
“Marvellous idea.” Emily smiled. “I wish they could come sooner,
though.”

Her father filled two plates
with baked beans and placed them on the table. “Me too, but I don’t
think your mum would agree. You know how busy she is in her new
job.”

Emily slumped in her chair and
took a mouthful of baked beans. How could she forget that? Since
losing weight and getting that job her mother seemed like a
different person. All bubbly and smiling and
always
busy.

***

Later that night, Emily
overheard her father talking on the phone. She hid behind the
stairs, holding in her breath.

“You have to do what?” Her
father paused, his back turned to her. “How could I possibly
organize it before Monday, Maryanne? It’s Friday and the school’s
closed for the weekend. Can’t you give me more time?” He hesitated,
his fingers drumming on a coffee table. “No, no, I understand
perfectly. I guess you have no other choice. Yes, I’ll see what I
can do. One p.m. Goodbye.”

Now what? Emily turned the
corner and patted her father's arm. “Is everything all right,
Dad?”

“All’s fine. Don’t worry.” With
the corners of his mouth raised, he looked as though he tried to
smile, but Emily knew better.

“Was that Mum on the phone?”
Emily persisted.

“Yep.” He turned on his heels
and walked away.

Emily hurried after him. “Well,
what did she say?”

He stopped and breathed in
deeply before he turned to look at her. “She needs to go on a
business trip to Switzerland and can’t find anyone to take care of
Sam, so he’ll have to stay with us until she’s back.”

“That’s awesome.” Her brother
would be here soon. She couldn’t wait. “When’s he coming?”

Her father shook his head. “You
miss your brother, and so do I, but he can’t skip school for such a
long time. That was the whole point of him staying behind with your
mum. I doubt I’ll be able to organise a school transfer on a Friday
afternoon.”

Emily frowned. “How long will
Mum be gone for?”

Her father sighed. “A few days.
Maybe even weeks. She said she doesn’t know. Her boss may offer her
something long-term.”

“You mean, like living in
Switzerland?” Her mother wouldn’t move that far away, would
she?

“We don’t know yet.” Her father
picked up a newspaper from the coffee table and tucked it under his
arm, mumbling under his breath, “I just wish someone could’ve told
me a little earlier.”

"Me too." Emily turned to return
to her room when an idea hit her. She knew exactly how she could
help. “Hey, don’t worry. You’ll find a way," she called after him.
“You’ll be just fine.”

The headmistress Mrs Samuels
called an hour later to discuss the field trip on Monday since
Emily's father never returned the permission slip. Emily covered
the mouthpiece on the telephone in the hall as she listened to her
father taking the call from his study.

Mrs Samuel seemed quite excited
at the prospect of another student for her school. “Don’t you
worry. I know how hard it is for a single parent to take care of
two teens. Why don’t you come to my office on Monday first thing in
the morning and we’ll have his records transferred?”

Emily smiled, pleased to find
out the diary had sorted out her father’s problems sooner than
expected. She didn’t even mind her father didn’t tell the old lady
he wasn’t a single parent.

“I’ll do that. Thank you ever so
much, Mrs Samuels,” she heard her father say on the other end of
the line. After he hung up, she dialled their London number to tell
Sam the good news but the line was busy.

***

“Well done, sis!” Sam said the
following day. “Don’t know what you wrote into that diary but I’m
glad to be here without having to hide and eat your soggy
cornflakes. Mum’s so not like Dad. She makes me wash up all the
time.”