Christmas Fairy (4 page)

Chapter Five

‘There
must
be a way,’ said Lindsay. She bent down so that she could look Twink in the eyes. Her own were round and worried. ‘Don’t give up, Twink! You’ll get home again.’

‘
How?
’ demanded Twink. ‘Neither of your parents will drive you!’

‘Well, maybe – maybe if you talked to them again, we could convince them you’re a fairy! Then they’d be sure to want to help.’ Lindsay’s face lit up.

‘No!’ cried Twink, shooting up in the air. ‘Lindsay, please – promise me you won’t. Your parents will try to swat me if they see me again!’

Lindsay didn’t look completely convinced, but she nodded. ‘All right, I promise. Don’t worry, Twink, I won’t say a word.’

Reassured, Twink drifted back down to the bedside table. ‘What will we do, then?’ she asked, rubbing her wings together anxiously. ‘I’ve got to get home, Lindsay; I’ve just got to!’

Lindsay’s forehead creased. ‘Fairies must have to travel long distances
sometimes
,’ she said. ‘What do you do then?’

Twink considered. ‘Well . . . we usually ride birds for any journey that’s over a mile or two.’

‘
Do
you?’ breathed Lindsay, clearly enchanted by this information. ‘Well, then, why can’t you do that? My mum’s got a bird feeder in the back garden; we get loads of birds every morning!’

Twink thought of Sunny, the faithful grey and yellow tit she had ridden in her first term at Glitterwings, and hope prickled through her. ‘Oh, Lindsay, that might work!’ she burst out.

‘Great!’ Lindsay jumped up. ‘I’ll set my alarm for really early, and we’ll sneak into the back garden before Mum and Dad wake up.’ Then her face fell. ‘Oh, why am I so excited?’ she wailed. ‘It just means you’ll be leaving!’

Twink took quickly to the air, brushing a wing against Lindsay’s cheek. ‘Don’t be sad,’ she said warmly. ‘I’ll never forget you, Lindsay. I’ll tell my family all about you!’

Lindsay managed a small smile. ‘I won’t forget you either, Twink. Not ever.’

That evening the two girls talked for ages, exchanging stories about their lives. Lindsay was open-mouthed when Twink described Glitterwings Academy: the spreading oak tree school on its hill, with tiny golden windows spiralling up its trunk and hundreds of fairy students swooping about inside.

‘It’s like something out of a story!’ she said, hugging her knees. ‘But why haven’t humans ever found it?’

‘I don’t know,’ admitted Twink. Now that she thought about it, she realised there must be some sort of magic involved. Though, then again, if most humans were like Lindsay’s parents, they’d just convince themselves that they’d seen a tree full of moths!

‘Tell me more about Christmas trees,’ she said. She was sitting perched on Lindsay’s knee again, which now had the pink cotton of Lindsay’s nightdress draped over it. ‘I still don’t understand, Lindsay. Why do humans have them?’

Lindsay’s freckled face screwed up in thought. ‘Well – not
all
humans do,’ she said. ‘But I think most people in this country do. And America. It’s a – a tradition.’

‘But what are they
for
? ’ Twink fluttered her wings despairingly.

‘They’re to celebrate Christmas,’ explained Lindsay. ‘It’s a holiday, that’s all. You sing special songs, and there’s a big dinner, and you get
lots
of presents, though it’s not really supposed to be about that, and –’

‘But
how
does the tree celebrate Christmas?’ broke in Twink. Special songs and presents sounded nice – but they didn’t have much to do with cutting down a baby spruce, so far as she could tell!

Suddenly the door to Lindsay’s room flew open. ‘Time for – oh!’ Lindsay’s mother started as she caught sight of Twink. ‘It’s that moth again! Lindsay, what’s it doing on your
knee
? ’

‘It’s – it’s pretty,’ said Lindsay weakly.

Lindsay’s mother shook her head in amazement. ‘But you’re terrified of moths!’

‘Not this one,’ said Lindsay. ‘It’s my friend.’

‘Your
friend?
’ laughed Lindsay’s mother. She came forward, holding her dressing gown around herself. Twink gulped, frozen in place. She felt as exposed as a frog on a log!

‘It
is
pretty, isn’t it?’ said Lindsay’s mother, staring down. Twink looked back at her uneasily, holding her wings very still. ‘I wonder what it’s doing out at this time of year?’

‘Maybe it’s lost its way,’ said Lindsay softly. ‘Maybe it wants to go home again.’ Very gently, she reached out and stroked Twink’s wing.

For a moment Lindsay’s mother looked confused as she gazed at Twink. Then she shook her head firmly. ‘What an imagination! Promise me you’ll put it out of the window before you go to bed, Lindsay; you know how your father feels about insects. Besides, you’re right – it probably wants to go home again, poor thing.’

Twink went limp as Lindsay’s mother left the room. ‘That was close!’ she whispered.

Lindsay nodded worriedly. ‘We can’t let her see you again or she
will
put you outside – and it’s cold out there!’

That night Twink slept in the tiny house, which Lindsay said her grandfather had made for her. ‘My friend Sarah says it’s babyish,’ she confessed, her cheeks reddening, ‘but I still like playing with it.’

The little bed was just Twink’s size, though it felt hard and strange until Lindsay tucked her up in something called a ‘mitten’. ‘Are you all right in there?’ she asked, peering in at Twink.

‘Perfect,’ sighed Twink, nestling down into the soft red material. ‘Goodnight, Lindsay – see you in the morning!’

Twink thought she’d fall asleep immediately, but instead she lay awake for a long time, staring up at the doll’s house ceiling. What a day it had been! She felt exhausted from all the emotions and new discoveries.

Most of all, she longed to be back with her family. They must be so worried about her by now! And poor Bimi – she probably thought it was all her fault for not stopping the human from taking Twink in the first place.

Don’t worry, everyone,
thought Twink.
I’ll be home
soon!

Just before she drifted off, her thoughts wandered back to the Christmas tree sparkling downstairs. Who would have thought that humans would treat the trees they chopped down so lovingly, and decorate them so beautifully? Twink snuggled drowsily into the mitten. It was such a mystery . . . and the more Lindsay tried to explain, the more puzzling the whole thing became.

‘You’re still here!’ hissed an excited voice.

‘Oh!’ Twink jolted awake as she saw Lindsay staring in at her, a huge grin on her face. Yawning, Twink crawled out of the mitten and stretched her wings. ‘Of course I’m still here,’ she said tetchily. ‘I’m stuck, remember?’

Lindsay looked embarrassed. ‘I know – I just thought maybe I’d dreamed you. Here, do you want some breakfast?’ She offered Twink another bit of chocolate.

Wishing that she had a thistle comb to groom her long pink hair, Twink accepted, sitting on the doll’s house floor to eat. Never mind – her hair wouldn’t stay tidy for long anyway if she was going to be riding a bird!

Twink’s heart quickened at the thought. ‘What time is it?’ she asked, licking the last bit of chocolate from her fingers.

‘Six o’clock,’ said Lindsay, her eyes shining with excitement. ‘It’s still dark outside!’

A few minutes later Lindsay and Twink were sneaking down the stairs, Lindsay tiptoeing slowly while Twink flitted by her side. Lindsay eased open the downstairs door, and the two of them slipped into the lounge.

‘Shh, Clarence. Be quiet!’ whispered Lindsay as the black dog came trotting over. Twink stiffened as he caught sight of her. Oh no! He’d start barking and wake up Lindsay’s parents!

But Lindsay grabbed Clarence by the collar and looked him in the eye. ‘Twink is a
friend
,’ she said sternly. ‘Do you understand, Clarence? She’s a
friend
, so you’re not to bark at her!’

Fairy and dog stared doubtfully at each other. Twink put on a friendly smile. She thought the dog didn’t seem at all convinced, but then the tip of his tail wagged.

‘See, he likes you,’ said Lindsay.

Twink grinned. Flitting forward, she stroked the dog’s silky ear. ‘Good dog,’ she said – and then shrieked as he turned and licked her! ‘Oh!’ she gasped, gazing down at her rose-petal dress. She was drenched!

Lindsay burst into giggles. ‘He
really
likes you!’

She took Twink into the kitchen, and ran something called a ‘tap’ for her so that Twink could wash in the warm water. Afterwards, Twink dried herself on a cloth that Lindsay said was used for dishes.

‘The birds should be up by now,’ said Twink. She could just see the first rays of the sun shining through the window.

Lindsay nodded. ‘Come on!’

She led the way into what she called a ‘conservatory’. Twink’s heart lifted as she spotted the garden beyond. She’d been starting to think there was no greenery at all in Lindsay’s world, but here it was: the rectangular space was filled with grass and flower beds, and even a birch tree!

‘There’s Mum’s bird feeder,’ said Lindsay, pointing. The stand in the centre of the garden had a feeding-station on its top. Already dozens of birds were squabbling over its seeds, flapping and fluttering.

‘You stay here,’ whispered Twink. ‘They’ll fly away if they see you.’ Suddenly she realised that this was farewell. She hovered uncertainly. ‘Well – goodbye, Lindsay. Thank you for everything.’

‘That’s OK,’ said Lindsay, struggling to smile. ‘Goodbye, Twink – I’ll never forget you.’ She cracked open the conservatory door. Taking a deep breath, Twink flew outside.

Chapter Six

There were all sorts of birds gathered around the feeder, from magpies and starlings down to tiny little tits. And one of the tits was grey and yellow, just like Sunny!

Twink smiled. Tits might not be as powerful as larger birds, but if this one was anything like Sunny, he’d make up for it with his eagerness to please. She flew quickly to the bird feeder, landing on the perch beside him.

‘Hello!’ she said. The birds all stopped quarrelling and gaped at her. The tit looked astonished, puffing out its yellow chest feathers in alarm.

‘Er . . . I’m sure you’ve all seen a fairy before,’ said Twink, suddenly not sure at all. Maybe these birds had only ever seen humans. Still, fairies got on with all creatures – after all, taking care of nature was their job!

‘I need a lift home,’ continued Twink. She hesitated. Could the birds even understand her? ‘It’s miles and miles away, and I can’t fly there on my own. So – can I ride on one of you?’

The birds rustled, glancing at each other. Twink looked directly at the tit. ‘Will
you
help me?’ she asked.

He cocked his head to one side, regarding her with dark, intelligent eyes.

‘Please!’ added Twink, moving closer to him. From the corner of her gaze, she could just see Lindsay, watching open-mouthed from the conservatory.

The tit didn’t move away, and Twink studied his sleek grey back. She hadn’t thought of the fact that there was no saddle. How would she hold on?

Well, there was only one way to find out. Twink fluttered just above the tit and settled herself behind his wings. His feathers felt smooth as glass. Holding on as best she could, Twink gave Lindsay a quick grin and a wave.

‘Up!’ she said, clutching the bird’s neck.

The tit craned his head to stare at her. His expression didn’t look very friendly.

‘
Up
,’ repeated Twink. She nudged him with her knees. ‘Please!’ she added. But the tit seemed to shrink sulkily in on himself, folding his wings tightly against his back. Nothing Twink could say or do would make him move.

Finally she climbed down from his back, red-cheeked. What a moss brain she must have looked! The moment she was off, the tit flew away as fast as he could. Twink sighed, and looked at the other birds.

Perhaps the magpie? It would be much harder to hold on to – they were so big! – but it would get her home even faster.

However, the magpie was an even worse disaster than the tit had been. The moment he felt Twink sitting on his back, he gave an outraged ‘
Squaawwkkk!
’ and rocketed straight up into the air. The other birds flapped away in a startled explosion.

‘Aargh!’ shrieked Twink, struggling to hang on. ‘Stop!’ The magpie shot up to the birch tree, and Twink ducked just in time to avoid being hit by a branch.

The bird plunged and dived wildly, clearly intent on throwing her off. It was like trying to ride a hurricane! With a yelp, Twink went tumbling through the air, arms and legs flailing.

In a flurry of wings, she caught herself and hovered, watching dejectedly as the magpie flapped away. The rest of the birds were gone as well, and the bird feeder looked sad and abandoned. Tears stung Twink’s eyes. What
now
?

The back door opened and Lindsay ran outside, shivering in her thin nightdress.

‘Twink, what happened?’ she cried, holding out her hand.

Twink landed lightly on her palm. ‘I – I suppose the birds that we fly are specially trained. These don’t seem to have the hang of it.’ That was an understatement! If the situation hadn’t been so serious, she’d have burst into giggles.

‘Oh.’ Lindsay looked troubled. ‘Then . . . how are you going to get home?’

‘I don’t know,’ Twink whispered. She rubbed her lavender wings together. ‘Oh, Lindsay, I don’t know!’

The next few days passed dismally for Twink. Though Lindsay did everything she could think of to cheer her up – bringing her delicious morsels to nibble, talking with her for hours, even playing games – all Twink could think of was her family, trying to find her.

‘I know,’ said Lindsay sympathetically. ‘It must be awful.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve been trying and trying to get Dad to drive me to the farm, but he’s told me not to nag him any more. And Mum says he means it, and that I should stop talking about it.’

Twink sighed. ‘Well – thanks anyway.’

She was sitting on the first floor of the doll’s house, with her legs dangling over the side. She and Lindsay had decided it was the safest place for her: if one of Lindsay’s parents came in it would look like Lindsay was just playing with her dolls.

Now Lindsay gave Twink a sidelong look. ‘Twink . . . can I ask you something?’

‘Of course,’ said Twink, stretching her wings. Apart from anything else, she was bored. She had never spent so long cooped up in one place in her life!

‘Well . . .’ Lindsay traced a finger on the carpet. ‘You know what you told me about trees having personalities, and sometimes dryads? Is that really true?’

‘Yes!’ exclaimed Twink in surprise. ‘And that’s not all. Why, we have water sprites living in our school pond, and my father even met a faun once – though I think they’re pretty rare now.’

Lindsay’s eyes shone. ‘There really
is
magic, isn’t there? No matter what the grown-ups say.’

Twink swung her legs. ‘The grown-ups in
my
world would never say such a daft thing! Yes, of course there’s magic.’

‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell Dad,’ said Lindsay. ‘That maybe there really
is
magic, and maybe the trees are part of it, somehow, and so we shouldn’t cut them down.’ She sighed. ‘But he doesn’t seem to be listening.’

Impulsively, Twink flew out of the doll’s house. ‘Thank you for trying,’ she said, brushing her wing against Lindsay’s cheek. ‘It means a lot, Lindsay – it really does!’

‘That’s OK,’ said Lindsay, the tips of her ears turning bright red. ‘But you know what, Twink?’ she added. ‘
Christmas
is magic, too! It gives me the same sort of feeling that thinking about dryads does: all sort of tingly inside.’

Christmas was magic? Twink blinked in surprise. But humans didn’t
have
magic. What was Lindsay talking about?

‘Well –’ She stopped, not wanting to hurt Lindsay’s feelings.

‘And it’s almost here – tomorrow’s Christmas Eve!’ Lindsay drummed her feet on the floor. ‘Oh, I can hardly wait!’

Twink smiled, glad she hadn’t said anything. She had no idea why Lindsay was so excited . . . but it was nice to see her friend happy!

That night Twink sat perched on the window sill long after Lindsay had fallen asleep, staring out at the dark houses. What was her family doing right now? Were they still searching for her, or had they given up? After all, days and days had passed – they might imagine she was gone for good by now.

No! She
couldn’t
think like that, or else she’d give up entirely! Shoving the unpleasant thought away, Twink flitted to the bedroom door and listened. The house was silent. Slipping underneath the door, Twink flew downstairs and into the lounge.

‘Hi, Clarence,’ she whispered when the dog came padding over. He gave her a soft, companionable
woof
, wagging his tail.

Skimming across the darkened room to the tree, Twink landed beside the box-like thing that controlled the lights. Using all her strength, she jumped as hard as she could on to the switch.

The tree erupted into a dazzle of sparkling white. Twink sank back on her heels, drinking it in as it flashed and glittered.

She wasn’t really sure why she’d started sneaking downstairs to admire the tree. It had started when she couldn’t sleep a few nights ago . . . and ever since then, she’d savoured the secret time that she spent down here. The tree was so beautiful – even if she still didn’t understand why the humans did it.

Flying up into the branches, Twink settled beside the fairy with holly-leaf wings and hugged her knees to her chest. Her parents must be so worried about her. If only she could get a message to them!

But how could she? Fairies always used butterflies to send messages to each other, but Twink knew they were specially chosen, sprinkled with fairy dust. Ordinary butterflies were all hibernating now. Getting a message to her family was hopeless!

Unless . . . Twink gasped as a memory came to her. When she’d been a first-year pupil, she’d befriended a wasp called Stripe, who had called to her with his mind when he’d needed help. Miss Shimmery, their HeadFairy, had explained it was the magic of friendship that made it possible.

Twink’s heart beat wildly. Could
she
do the same thing? Maybe if she tried calling to Bimi, her best friend would hear her! Closing her eyes, Twink thought fervently,
Bimi, it’s me! I’m trapped in a
human house, but I’m all right. Please tell my parents
that I’m OK, and I’m trying to get home!

Over and over, Twink thought the words, sending them out with as much force as she could muster. She imagined Bimi receiving them, and the mix of relief and concern that would be on her best friend’s face as she realised the trouble Twink was in.

Finally Twink stopped, holding her breath. She knew Bimi would certainly call back if she had heard her.
Please, Bimi, answer me
, she thought.

She waited for a long time, hopeful and alert. But no answer came. There was only the slight sound of Clarence’s snores, and the occasional sound of cars passing outside.

At last Twink’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Well, that was that. And she had tried so hard! Maybe calling with your mind only worked between a fairy and a wasp.

Looking out of the window, Twink saw the winter stars fading from the sky. She must have been trying to call Bimi for ages. She tapped the fairy decoration, and watched her holly wings sparkle as she swung back and forth.

‘Stupid of me, eh?’ she whispered.

The painted fairy didn’t respond. Twink sighed. It was back to the doll’s house, then. And she might as well get used to it – it looked as if she was going to be living there for a long time!