Lily Alone (10 page)

‘I won, I won! You're all slowcoaches. I got here
ages
ago! And look, there are animals!'

We were standing on a grassy plain and only a little way away a large herd of red deer were staring at us, blinking their big brown eyes. There were several deer who stood tensely, their noses in the air, but most of them went on munching grass, flicking their strange little tails. They were mostly females with their young, beautiful little fawns that danced about, but there was one big stag with great antlers growing out of his head like massive branches.

‘Will he hurt us?' Bliss whispered, clutching me.

‘I don't think so,' I said.

‘Lovely doggies,' said Pixie, and she started running towards them fearlessly.

‘No, Pixie, stop,' I said, catching her by the back of her T-shirt. ‘Don't – you're startling them. Don't make them run away.'

‘I
want
them to run,' said Baxter. ‘And I'll run after them and I'll get a long stick and spear them and kill them all dead.'

‘Stop it, you monster, you can't want to kill them, they're
beautiful
,' I said.

‘Yes, I do. You hunt deer, I know you do, and I'm a hunter,' said Baxter, swaggering about, miming his spear – but when the stag raised his huge head and took one step towards us, Baxter clutched my hand tightly and pressed up against me.

‘He's coming to get us!' Bliss squealed.

‘No, he's not, he's just looking at us to see we're OK – and we
are
,' I said. ‘Let's sit down and stay quiet and watch them.'

We sat down and counted them – well, three of us did. Pixie had no idea about numbers and went ‘One, two, three, twenty, a hundred.' The deer kept moving around so we all got muddled. There were about thirty altogether. Bliss and I tried to sort them into families. I rather liked the idea of having lots of mothers and children all living together with just one father.

We started choosing names for some of them. I chose Brown Eyes and Bramble and Moonbeam and Fleetfoot and Apple and Treewind and Jumper and Snufflenose and Wagtail. Baxter called the stag King and the others Soldier and Sailor and Badboy and Fighter and Kung Fu and Bighead and Gnasher and Fang, all boys' names, though I kept telling him they were girls. Bliss chose real girls' names – Judy and Shelley and Katy and Claire and Ella and Sarah and Hannah and Lizzie and Mandy. We let Pixie choose names for the smallest – Fluffy and Muffy and Duffy.

We couldn't really keep track of which was which, apart from the stag and the small ones, but it was a good game, and we repeated our own names over and over so that we would remember them.

Then a man walked past with a dog. It was on a lead but it barked at the deer and they all ran off, King and all his ladies and children. We stood up and ran after them, but they were much faster than we were. We followed them through the trees and then onto another grassy plain where there were lots of little grey rabbits popping in and out of their burrows.

‘Oh, a rabbit,
please
, lily, can we have a rabbit?' Bliss begged.

‘I'll catch you one,' said Baxter, but thank goodness he was nowhere near quick enough.

We carried on walking through more trees. Some of them were very old and gnarled, with strange knots and warty bits so they looked like faces.

‘They're just like the trees in my fairy-tale book,' said Bliss. ‘Can we play we're princesses, Lily?'

‘Of course we can, Princess Bliss,' I said. ‘We're three enchanted princesses dancing through the forest and Baxter's a handsome prince.'

‘No, I'm not, I'm a big bad ogre and I'm going to stamp and stomp after all you silly princesses and bash you with my stick and bake you in a pot and eat you for my supper,' said Baxter.

‘No, no, you can be an ogre, but you bang your head on the topmost branches of the tree because you're so tall and you fall down bleeding all over the place, wailing and moaning, and we princesses take pity on you. We dip our petticoats in a handy stream and wash the blood away and put special herbs on your gaping wound and bandage you up with more petticoats and you're so grateful you become our friend and protect us when we all go on our journey,' I said, and we acted it out, even Pixie.

Several times people walking their dogs came by and smiled – but one woman stopped and stood watching us. I heard my voice go all high and silly, worried that she'd think me such a baby for playing pretend fairy stories.

‘That sounds a fun game,' she said. ‘But why aren't you in school?'

I felt my cheeks flushing and I saw the others go red too. Baxter clenched his fists and I knew he was going to blurt out something cheeky, which would be a big mistake.

‘We've had chicken pox,' I said quickly. ‘We're better now, but still not well enough to go to school.'

‘Oh goodness, chicken pox,' she said. She was peering at us. ‘I can't see any scabs.'

‘I said, we're almost better now.'

‘But are you playing all alone?'

‘No, no, our mum's here with us,' I said.

The woman looked around.

‘Where is she?'

I wished Baxter was a real ogre and could simply kill her with his stick.

‘She's over there,' I said, waving vaguely. Then inspiration struck. ‘She told us not to talk to strangers so we've got to go now. Come on, you three.'

‘Well, that's very sensible,' said the woman. ‘Though of course, I don't mean you any harm.'

‘Yes, but Mum says you can't trust anyone nowadays,' I said. ‘Come on, you lot, let's run back to Mum.'

I grabbed Pixie and started running. Thank goodness Baxter and Bliss ran along beside us. I was scared the woman would run right after us, but she was quite old, and thank goodness she didn't even try.

‘Keep running,' I panted, wanting to be sure, so we ran and ran down sandy paths through the trees until the woman was no longer in sight.

‘I . . . can't!' Bliss puffed.

‘OK, we can have a little rest now,' I said, and we all leaned against a big oak tree, gasping.

‘Nosy old bat,' said Baxter at last.

‘Yes, wasn't she?'

‘But you told her, Lily.'

‘Yes, I did, didn't I!'

‘Where's Mum?' said Pixie, peering all around.

‘Oh, darling, Mum's not really here, I was just pretending to that lady.'

‘I
want
mum,' said Pixie.

‘I want Mum too,' Bliss whispered.

Baxter didn't say anything, but he started kicking the tree, his face screwed up.

‘I know,' I said. ‘I want Mum too. But she'll be back soon. She's having a lovely holiday – and so are we, aren't we?
Aren't we?
'

They all nodded solemnly at me because I was asking so fiercely.

‘Let's walk on a bit, then. I'm sure that nosy old lady's gone now,' I said.

We set off again, Pixie walking, thank goodness. She kept stopping to examine stones or pick a dandelion, but at least I didn't have to lug her about. Bliss was the one who was floundering, staggering along with Headless and all his friends.

‘Come here, let me carry that lot for you,' I said. ‘Shall I carry you too, Bliss?'

I was joking but she looked hopeful.

‘Oh dear, I can't really, you're too big now,' I said. ‘Come on, let's just walk together.'

‘Where are we walking
to
?' Bliss asked.

‘Well, we're princesses in the enchanted forest, and we're trying to find . . .' I looked around wildly. There was an iron railing on the left, enclosing thick woods and shrubs. I saw a flash of pink far away. ‘We're trying to find the magic garden,' I said.

Then further up I saw an ornate black gate.

‘There we are, there's the gate! We've found it! Come on, let's see if we can get inside.'

We went through the gate. It was as if we really were in a magic garden. It seemed much quieter than the rest of the park, but the birds were singing louder. A flock of green parakeets circled over our heads, screeching at us. We held hands and walked down one of the stony paths. Suddenly we were surrounded by colour, deep red, scarlet, orange, apricot, pink and purple, flowers in long hedges, flowers in bushes, flowers in trees. They were all different flowers but I didn't know their names.

‘They're magic roses,' I said. ‘Aren't they beautiful? And they're blooming just for us!'

We walked slowly down the path admiring the flowers, almost on tiptoe. Even Baxter seemed awed, pressing his nose against the blossoms.

‘Watch out a bee doesn't go up your nostril!' I said.

‘Can we pick the flowers, Lily?' asked Pixie.

‘No, absolutely not, then they won't be magic any more,' I said.

She ran ahead. A stream trickled beneath the flower hedges, with wooden footbridges. Pixie skipped onto one and then put her foot out tentatively.

‘Paddle?' she said.

‘No, it's a magic stream. If you paddle in it you could turn into a duck. Look, see those poor silly children – they've all been turned into ducks.'

I pointed to several mallards quacking further up the stream. Pixie put her foot back on the bridge, sharpish. We found a real duckpond further into the garden, and then another right at the end, with a huge weeping willow. We hid under its long trailing branches and pretended it was our cave. There were more people at this end of the garden, old couples walking very slowly round the pond and feeding the ducks. I knew they could still see us through the green fronds but they didn't try to talk to us.

‘Isn't it lovely to see the kiddies playing here?' one old man remarked to his wife, and she agreed happily.

A group of younger women with buggies came along and spread themselves out on a sunny patch of grass, unpacking a picnic. We peeped out at them enviously as they shared sandwiches and gave their babies carrot sticks and little tubs of yoghurt.

‘
I
want some,' said Pixie. ‘Where's
our
picnic?'

We'd long since eaten the biscuits and the Frosties.

‘I'm hungry too,' said Bliss.

‘I'm
starving
,' said Baxter.

They looked at me as if they expected me to magic a picnic out of thin air.

‘We're going to have magic food,' I said. ‘Look, we've got a set of solid gold plates and they're full to the brim of beautiful fruits and we've got goblets of magic lemonade—'

‘You're talking rubbish,' Baxter interrupted. ‘I don't want silly magic stuff, I want something
real
.'

‘Don't be so rude and ungrateful. I'm trying my best,' I said.

‘Ask them ladies for some of their food. Go on,' said Baxter.

‘Don't be silly. I can't possibly,' I said. ‘Stop thinking of your stomach and play the game.'

‘I don't want to play your stupid games,' said Baxter, and he hit me with his fork-lift truck.

But we got lucky. One of the toddlers was in a bad mood too. He started whingeing and fussing and tried to snatch another baby's banana. His mother tutted and took the banana away, so he threw himself down on the grass and kicked and screamed.

‘That baby's hurting my head,' said Bliss, her hands over her ears.

‘He's so naughty,' said Pixie smugly.

One of the little babies started wailing too. The mothers shook their heads and sighed and started gathering up their stuff and slotting the babies back in their buggies. The toddler was still screaming, arching his back and refusing to co-operate.

‘You did that when you were little,' I told Baxter. ‘It used to drive Mum demented.'

‘Yeah, I bet I really yelled,' said Baxter proudly.

One of the mothers was gathering up the picnic. She tossed all the sandwiches, the half-eaten yoghurts, the banana skins and carrot sticks, the crumbling rusks and half-sucked oranges into one big carrier bag – and then she crammed it in the rubbish bin! We all stared. The moment they were moving, a wagon train of buggies, babies and bags, Baxter was
off
, darting to the bin and yanking out their discarded picnic.

He brought it back under our willow tree and I started reassembling it on the ground.

‘But it's got all muddled up. There's yoghurt on this sandwich and biscuit crumbs everywhere,' said Bliss. ‘We can't eat it like that.'

‘Of course we can,' I said. ‘Don't you think all your food gets muddled up in your tummy?'

‘Yes, but I don't have to see it like that,' said Bliss.

I found her a totally pristine sandwich and an untouched yogurt and she was happy. Baxter, Pixie and I were less picky and ate the rest between us.

‘This is better than all that magic mucking about,' said Baxter, with his mouth full.

When we'd finished every last scrap we lay down, Pixie's head on my tummy, the twins either side. The girls fell asleep. Baxter mumbled quietly, driving his truck up and down my legs. I dozed a little myself, happy in the magic garden.

Pixie woke me up when she wanted to do a wee. I let her go behind a bush. Baxter went too, but Bliss was too bashful to do likewise. She pretended she didn't need to go, but got very pink and fidgety. Luckily when we went wandering back to the front of the garden we found a little toilet cabin, so she and I could go in comfortable privacy. We played a game of hide-and-seek amongst all the rosy bushes, Pixie and I playing against Baxter and Bliss, and then we ran races up and down the stream, charging across the little wooden bridges.