The Land of Neverendings Page 14

  The three of them were waiting in the after-school chaos of girls, bikes and cars around the main entrance. Emily’s mother arrived, and (as Emily had predicted) was delighted that she was bringing back two friends.

  ‘It’s fine by me, if it’s OK with your parents. I knew I made that lemon drizzle cake for a reason!’

  ‘Yum!’ Maze smiled greedily. ‘My favourite!’

  They couldn’t talk about the toys in front of Emily’s mother. But there was plenty to talk about in the car, as she had volunteered to work on the costumes for the play. Alongside Emily’s Alice dress, she was making an elaborate Tudor gown for Maze, just like the illustrations of the Red Queen in the book. Emily was still nervous about the play, but starting to be excited. They were doing two full-scale performances – one for the whole school, and another on the following evening for parents and friends.

  ‘I’m terrified,’ said Maze (who was not terrified). ‘Every time I think of that huge hall and the sea of faces in front of me.’

  Emily pushed this scary picture out of her mind and began to think about Prizzy’s makeover – was it actually possible to make her look anything like a normal rag doll? And (far more important) did she really know how to break the barrier between the two worlds? Of course the door must be fixed, but there had to be a chance to see Bluey first.

  The three girls hurried straight round to Ruth’s, the moment they got home (Emily had told her mother a mild lie about Ruth helping with a school project). She was waiting in her chair behind the till.

  ‘Turn the sign round.’

  Emily turned the sign on the door from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’.

  ‘Notty – you can talk now,’ said Ruth, ‘but don’t interrupt.’

  ‘All right, Ruth,’ said Notty. He stood up on his shelf and stretched. ‘Ruth got a bit cross with me today,’ he said comfortably. ‘Because I sang a little song in front of some customers.’

  Emily and Martha had told Maze about Notty, but that hadn’t prepared her for the reality – first she gaped, then she burst out laughing.

  ‘Isn’t he lovely?’

  ‘Thank you, Maze,’ said the old bear. ‘Miss Prizzy has told me all about you – wait till you see her!’

  ‘Don’t expect too much.’ Ruth lowered her voice. She was holding a shoebox. ‘I did what I could – she’s pleased, that’s the main thing.’ She took off the lid of the box. ‘Here she is, folks – the new-look Prison Wendy!’

  ‘Ta-da!’ The ragged doll leapt out in a jumble of bright colours.

  If Emily hadn’t been on her guard she would have burst out laughing. She had to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep up her serious expression, and she didn’t dare look at the others. They couldn’t afford to offend the blackmailing toy.

  Ruth had done wonders – but Prizzy looked madder than ever.

  The red wool plaits had gone; she now had a whole new head of dark purple hair, very cleverly stitched on in cornrows. Her holes had been neatly patched and her gaping seams mended. Ruth had made her a pretty little orange dress. The face had obviously been more of a problem – although Ruth had touched it up with felt tip, nothing could make that huge, wonky grin any less barmy.

  ‘Prizzy, you’re beautiful!’ declared Maze. ‘Isn’t she?’

  ‘Oh, yes …’ Martha said hastily. ‘So … so … fashionable.’

  ‘Elegant,’ said Emily. ‘Ruth, this is brilliant!’

  Everyone gave up trying not to laugh. It was impossible not to laugh when Prizzy was proudly walking up and down on the counter, showing off her new dress.

  ‘None of you have mentioned them yet.’ Prizzy held up one of her legs. ‘Look at my boots!’

  Ruth had made the all-important boots from the stretchy gold material that Martha had rescued from a box of jumble. Prizzy’s legs were shaped like stumpy little sausages and the boots were more like socks, but Prizzy loved them. She began to dance, not caring that everyone was now practically crying with laughter.

  ‘We’ve met all your demands,’ Ruth said, once they had all calmed down. ‘Now tell us about that broken door.’

  ‘Oh, that!’ said Prizzy carelessly. ‘We can’t mend it now.’

  ‘What? But you promised!’

  ‘The black toad jumped on it and made a great big hole.’ Prizzy gazed at her new boots. ‘It isn’t a secret any more and anyone can get out of Smockeroon for a bit of hard air. Only the Sturvey can fix it and he’s gone.’

  ‘We should never have trusted you,’ Maze said crossly.

  A sharp, high, sweet voice said, ‘So you’re Maze! Your doll has told me so much about you!’

  Suddenly, without anyone seeing how it happened, two Barbie dolls had appeared on the shop counter. One was Sister Pretty, in her black nun clothes. And the other—

  ‘Sister Toop!’ Emily took a few moments to recognise her.

  ‘Hi, Emily.’ The unfairly beautiful Sister Toop was no longer dressed as a nun. Her lovely mass of hair was loose; she was magnificent in a ball gown of rich purple satin. ‘It’s just Toop now, if you don’t mind. I’ve stopped being a nun. I only did it to keep Pretty company.’

  ‘I’ve forgiven her,’ Sister Pretty explained, rather stiffly. ‘It’s not her fault she’s still in her box. I see that now.’

  ‘I don’t have to wear the bag any more, do I?’

  ‘No, dear,’ said Sister Pretty. ‘The bag is a thing of the past. Thanks to Pippa’s inspiring TV broadcasts, I see that I was silly to be jealous. It’s quite different now that we can talk back to humans.’ She added, with a gracious bow to Ruth, ‘We just dropped in to give you our order.’

  ‘Sorry – your order?’

  ‘For gold boots, of course!’ said Sister Pretty. ‘Thirty-eight pairs – that’s for me, Toop and everybody in my Barbie Zumba class. I’ll pick them up tomorrow.’

  The two Barbies vanished.

  ‘Oh my g— Was that real?’ Maze stared at the empty space, blinking like a sleepwalker.

  ‘I’m not making thirty-eight pairs of gold boots,’ Ruth said. ‘This is an antique shop, not a boot factory.’

  ‘Tell her to buy them at Smartweed’s,’ said Notty.

  ‘That’s the toys’ department store,’ Ruth said quickly, seeing Maze’s bafflement. ‘Danny and I made it up after a visit to Selfridges.’

  ‘Wow!’ Maze’s face was radiant. ‘This is incredible – I’m talking to toys! Thanks so much for giving Prizzy a makeover. It must’ve taken you hours!’

  ‘I’m glad you like the result,’ said Ruth, smiling at Maze. ‘The hair took longest. And I had to put up with a running commentary while I was working – that stubborn little doll of yours argued over every stitch!’

  ‘She looks wonderful. I was going to say good as new, but I don’t remember what she looked like when she was new. Prizzy, say thank you.’

  ‘Bum!’ said Prison Wendy. She flicked up her new skirt and rudely flashed her ragged bottom.

  Emily and Martha snorted with laughter.

  Maze, however, kept her face stern. ‘Stop being naughty – there’s still space on that top shelf for a prison!’

  ‘No!’ Prizzy stamped one of her golden feet. ‘I’ll escape!’

  ‘Say thank you to Ruth.’

  ‘Oh, all right – keep your label on!’ Prizzy said sulkily. ‘Thanksformygoldboots. Satisfied?’

  ‘You still know how to talk to her,’ said Martha. ‘And she still listens.’

  Emily’s phone bleeped; it was a text from Mum, summoning the three girls for tea and lemon drizzle cake.

  ‘You’d better leave Prizzy with me,’ Ruth said. ‘Something’s changed in Smockeroon and I don’t trust her in front of your mother. I’ll stuff her in my handbag and she can come with me to my Weight Watcher’s class.’

  *

  Later, much later, after Martha and Maze had gone home and supper had been eaten, Emily’s phone bleeped again.

  It was a text from Ruth, who hated texting. OUTSIDE – COME ALONE
.

  Mum and Dad were watching television in the sitting room. Emily crept out of the house and Ruth was waiting at the front gate.

  ‘Look at me,’ said Ruth breathlessly. ‘I mean, just look at me!’

  By the dingy light of the streetlamp, Emily saw that Ruth was covered with big blobs of red gloop.

  ‘Jelly,’ Ruth said. ‘I went to Weight Watcher’s and we had a jelly fight!’

  ‘What – everyone?’

  ‘Yes!’ A large blob of jelly fell off Ruth’s head and onto the path. ‘This is bad, Emily; this is very bad indeed. That door must be fixed at once.’

  ‘But not before I’ve seen Bluey!’ Emily protested. ‘It can’t be fixed until I’ve seen him!’

  ‘Sorry, we can’t afford to wait any longer.’

  ‘Don’t you want to see Danny?’

  ‘Only if he’s happy,’ Ruth said firmly. ‘I’d give up wanting to see him if I knew Smockeroon was a happy place again. We’ve got to find that Sturvey!’

  Twenty-one

  THE PENGUIN SOCIETY OUTING

  H ow do we find an old magic bear?

  Christmas was coming, and the window of Bottleton’s only department store was filled with a display of brand-new bears – bright and glossy and empty, waiting to be imagined. These vacant cushions could not have been less like the Sturvey, which only underlined the general sadness of the first Christmas without Holly.

  This time last year, Emily had made a tiny cardboard crown for Bluey, painted gold, with jewels made of fruit gums. Holly couldn’t see the royal Bluey in his crown, but Emily had gently guided her fingers to feel him, and she had huffed with delight.

  We always opened Bluey’s present first.

  What would they do this year? How would they bear it?

  Her granny normally came for lunch on Christmas Day, along with Mum’s sister.

  This year granny was going to a friend’s house, and Auntie Becky was off to Goa.

  Mum was upset about this. ‘They’re running away from me. They know how hard it is and they can’t face it.’

  ‘Look on the bright side,’ said Dad. ‘It’ll be far less work without them. I rather fancy a Christmas where I don’t have to listen to my mother complaining about everything. And I certainly won’t miss Becky’s boxes of horrible vegan food.’

  ‘But it’ll be so quiet,’ Mum said sadly. ‘Just the three of us.’

  And the empty space where Holly used to be.

  ‘It’s going to be the worst Christmas ever,’ Emily told Ruth, when they were alone in the shop. ‘I wish I could fall into a deep sleep and wake up when it’s over.’

  ‘The first Christmas is a killer,’ Ruth said. ‘You just have to make up your mind to get through it – if you don’t expect it to be fun, you appreciate any nice things that happen all the more.’

  ‘What did you do after Danny died?’

  ‘To be horribly frank with you, that Christmas was one of the times I wanted to die. The whole thing was meaningless without him – I cried for a solid hour when I put up the tree, because there weren’t any presents for my Danny to put underneath it.’ Ruth sniffed briskly. ‘Oh, that black toad had a field day with me! I went off to stay with my brother and his family, but I felt like the loneliest person in the universe.’

  There’s three of us – but she was left all alone.

  ‘That’s awful,’ said Emily.

  ‘It got a lot better when the pipes burst,’ Ruth said. ‘They couldn’t find a plumber on Christmas Day, so my brother and I had to climb into the loft to plug up the hole – and it was just the thing to take my mind off black toads. My brother got his bum stuck in a cardboard box and then I nearly died laughing. He’s even fatter than I am.’

  ‘Ah – Ruth and Emily!’ All of a sudden there was a small, bossy penguin on the counter. ‘Just the people I was looking for.’ Hugo was carrying a clipboard and wearing what seemed to be a dustpan and brush made of purple velvet on his head. ‘I’m collecting names for the outing.’

  ‘Hugo!’ Emily was so happy to see him that she almost cried. Ruth thought it was a good sign when they heard nothing from the toys, but she hated it.

  ‘How nice to see you!’ Ruth gave him a friendly pat. ‘Have you finished rebuilding your top floor?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Hugo. ‘And it’s better than the old one, so I forgave Pippa when she owned up to stealing it.’

  ‘Love the hat,’ said Emily. ‘Is there any more news about the Sturvey?’

  ‘No, he’s still missing. It’s very awkward. He’s stopped fixing the weather, and now it’s too warm and our chocolate money keeps melting. There was a big bank robbery yesterday, but it was easy to catch the criminals – they left so many chocolate footprints.’

  ‘Toy bank robbers!’ Emily was alarmed. ‘That’s impossible!’

  ‘Not any more,’ said Hugo with a sad expression that looked completely wrong on his silly face. ‘Things are getting really bad in Pointed End. Some mean plastic dinosaurs stole our slide this morning – with poor old Smiffy still on it!’ He sighed and looked at his clipboard. ‘Now, are you coming?’

  ‘Sorry – coming where?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Ruth, ‘I’d nearly forgotten – next Wednesday is the Penguin Society’s annual outing! Where are you going this year, Hugo?’

  ‘It’s a mystery tour,’ said Hugo. ‘That means it’ll be a big surprise when we get there. And I still have a few places on the coach left over for non-penguins.’

  Ruth caressed his important little head. ‘I’d love to come, but I have to work.’

  ‘And I’ll be on a school trip,’ said Emily. ‘We’re going on a tour of Norton’s.’

  *

  The pie factory was the biggest employer in Bottleton and nine girls in Emily’s class had parents who worked there. It was a vast place, with as many buildings as a small town. Emily had been here before, but only to the dull grey office block where they kept the accountants.

  ‘They’re launching a new pie,’ said Amber Jones, whose mother worked in the publicity office. ‘Apple with caramel.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ said Martha. ‘I hope they let us taste it.’ They were on the coach and she was next to Emily. She nudged her and whispered, ‘I left Pippa at home – what about Prizzy?’

  ‘Ruth’s got her,’ Emily whispered back. ‘And Maze made her promise not to cause trouble.’

  Maze was just across the aisle of the coach, next to Summer, pretending to ignore Emily – they had all agreed about this, because Summer was getting suspicious, and she was the sort of person who made it impossible to talk about babyish stuff like toys.

  Emily was on the alert for any sign of silliness at Norton’s, such as the throwing pies her dad had rambled about when under the influence of the glitter. So far, everything looked normal; maybe he’d been an isolated case and the infection hadn’t spread.

  The coach stopped outside a huge grey hangar.

  ‘QUIET!’ Mrs Lewis, whose husband did something important at the factory, was in charge today. ‘Let me remind you all that while you’re wearing your Harriet Cattermole uniforms, you are ambassadors for the school and I expect you to be on your best behaviour!’

  She led the girls into the Publicity Suite, a large office with sofas, potted plants and historical pictures of the factory. There was a strong smell of toffee apples.

  ‘Mmmm!’ Martha sighed. ‘It’s making my stomach rumble and we’ve only just had lunch!’

  ‘The whole place reeks of sugar,’ Summer muttered. ‘I think it’s gross.’

  ‘Hi, everyone. Welcome to Norton’s.’ A youngish woman in a smart red suit had appeared. ‘My name is Clare and I’ll be taking you round the factory this afternoon. You’ll experience the whole life cycle of our newest apple pie – yes, doesn’t it smell wonderful? A couple of facts first: the firm was founded way back in 1876, when a young Bottleton baker named Joseph Norton …’

  It wasn’t exactly boring, but the ordinariness
of everything made Emily a lot less anxious and she relaxed enough to pay attention.

  First they were all given white coats, white hats and little blue plastic bags to put over their shoes. They saw the raw apples being peeled and cored, and cooked in a metal vat as big as Emily’s house. They saw the great machine that dropped perfect circles of pastry onto a conveyor belt, and another machine that wrapped each finished pie in plastic.

  ‘And now, the final stage in the process,’ said Clare. ‘The tasting!’

  Emily’s feet had started to ache, and the toffee-apple fumes were making her light-headed. ‘No sign of trouble, anyway,’ she whispered to Martha.

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that,’ Martha whispered back. ‘Look!’

  She pointed up at a single red balloon, gently floating in the warm, sweet air above them.

  Nobody else took the slightest bit of notice, though a bright red balloon was not what you expected to see in a pie factory.

  And then a well-known voice honked, ‘Keep together, everybody! No stragglers!’

  Suddenly, there was Hugo, leading a long line of other stuffed penguins across the factory floor, plus a few non-penguins, including Smiffy, Sister Pretty and Toop. All the toys were dressed in white coats and hats. Sister Pretty was helping Smiffy to push a big basket on wheels.

  ‘Whose balloon is that?’ snapped Hugo. ‘I’d like to remind you all that while we’re in this factory, we are ambassadors for the Penguin Society – I expect your best behaviour!’

  ‘Emily, please tell me you can see them and you haven’t gone goofy!’ Martha gabbled into her ear. ‘Please tell me I’m not the only one!’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Emily said, ‘I can see them, clear as day.’

  ‘Look at the others – what’s happened to them?’

  Everyone else looked like smiling dummies in a shop window; Mrs Lewis had a broad grin that took years off her. The stench of toffee apple grew more powerful. Humans and toys ignored each other completely (Emily had noticed that the toys often failed to notice things until they were pointed out).