06 (40 page)

Read 06 Online

Authors: Last Term at Malory Towers

BOOK: 06
11.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"Hurry!" called Mollie. "There's a train over there in that station!" The three ran fast, with the stupid Chatterboxes chattering hard behind them all the time, saying something about lemonade and biscuits!

They jumped into the train, and only just in time too!

It was a funny train - a wooden one, with open trucks. In Chinky's carriage there was a hedgehog, a Chatterbox, and a mole who was fast asleep.

The Chatterbox was talking as usual. The hedgehog spread out his prickles and pricked him. The Chatterbox looked at him angrily.

"Every time you open your mouth I shall prick you," said the hedgehog in a hoarse, cross voice. The Chatterbox glared at him, but didn't dare to say another word.

"It's a pity that a hedgehog doesn't travel with every Chatterbox," whispered Mollie to Chinky. The train clattered on, and stopped at funny stations. The Chatterbox waited until the hedgehog got out and then began rattling on about all sorts of things, never stopping for a moment. The mole snored loudly. Chinky, Mollie, and Peter turned their backs on the silly Chatterbox and

 

The hedgehog spread out his prickles and pricked the (Chatterbox.

 

pretended not to listen. How glad they were to get to their own station and jump out.

"Well, I hope I shall never be a chatterbox!" said Mollie.

"We won't let you be!" said Peter. "Come on - let's go home and see if the wishing-chair is safely back."

They ran through the wood and down the lane and into their garden. But do you know, the wishing-chair was not there! It hadn't come back!

"Oh, do you suppose it has gone away for ever?" cried Mollie. "Do you think it heard what we were saying and ran away?"

"It's funny," said Chinky, puzzled. "I shouldn't have thought it would leave us like that! Oh dear - and you're going away to school tomorrow! It might have let you say good-bye to it!"

Just then a tiny fairy came knocking at the playroom door with a note for Chinky. He opened it and read it - and his face broke into smiles. "Just listen to this!" he cried. "It's from my mother. She says: 'Dear Chinky, this is just to let you know that the wishing-chair arrived here by itself today. I don't know why. - Your loving Mother.' "

"Oh, the clever old chair!" said Peter. "It heard us say that you would live with your mother and keep it there - so it has gone there itself! Well, you must say good-bye to it for us, Chinky - and we'll hope to sec it when we come home for half-term."

A bell rang at the top of the garden. Mollie ran to Chinky and hugged him. "That's the bell to tell us to go in," she said. "We'd better say good-bye now, dear, dear Chinky, in case we can't get down to the playroom

tomorrow before we go. Good-bye and don't forget us!"

They all hugged one another. Chinky waved to them as they ran up the garden. He felt rather sad - but never mind, there would be more adventures when the holidays came! He would wait for those.

Chinky caught the bus to Fairyland and went to Mrs. Twinkle, his mother! The children packed their last things. Everything was ready for school. They couldn't help feeling rather excited.

The playroom was empty. The wishing-chair was gone. Ah - but wait till the holidays! What fine adventures they would all have then!

HOME FOR HALF-TERM

A LITTLE pixie peeped anxiously into the window of a small playroom built at the bottom of a garden. A robin flew down beside him and sang a little song.

"What's the matter, Chinky? What do you want? What are you looking for?"

"I'm looking for Mollie and Peter," said Chinky. "I've got the wishmg-chair hidden under a bush just near here, and I'm waiting for the children to come home, so that I can get into this playroom of theirs and put the chair safely in its corner."

"But you know that the children are away at boarding- school," said the robin, with a little trill. "How foolish you are!"

"I'm not" said Chinky. "They're coming home at half- term, just for a few days. They told me so - and I promised to bring the chair from my mother's, where I've been looking after it - hoping that perhaps it would grow its wings just for their half-term. So I'm not foolish, you see!"

"Sorry," said the robin. "Shall I go and find out if they are up at the house? I haven't heard them yet and usually they make a lot of noise when they come home. Wait here, and I'll find out."

He flew off. He peeped into all the windows, his perkv

"What are you looking for, Chinky?" asked the robin.

little head on one side. There was nobody to be seen at all except the cook in the kitchen. She was busy making cakes.

"Ah - the children's favourite chocolate buns!" thought the robin. "I can hear them now, banging at the front door. What a pity their mother isn't here to welcome them!"

Mrs. Williams, the cook, hurried to the front door. Two children burst in at once, each carrying a small case. It was Mollie and Peter, home for the half-term!

"Hallo, Mrs. Willy! Where's Mother?" cried Peter.

"Welcome home, Master Peter," said Mrs. Williams, "and you, too, Miss Mollie. Your mother says she's very,

75

very sorry, but she's had to go off to your Granny, who's been taken ill. But she'll be home before you have to go back to school on Tuesday - and I'm to look after you."

"Oh," said the children, disappointed. Home didn't somehow seem like home without Mother there. They felt rather miserable.

"What about Daddy?" asked Mollie.

"He's away," said Mrs. Williams. "Didn't your mother tell you that in her last letter?"

"Oh, yes," said Mollie, remembering. "I forgot. Oh dear - half-term without either Mother or Daddy - how horrid!"

"I've made you your favourite chocolate buns," said Mrs. Williams, following them indoors. "And I've got ice-cream for you, too, and honey in the comb. And your mother says she has ordered twenty-four bottles of ginger-beer and orangeade for you this weekend, and you can take it down to your playroom."

"Oh, well - that sounds good," said Peter, cheering up. "We'll just pop upstairs with our things, Mrs. Willy - and then what about your honey in the comb and chocolate buns? We're starving! We simply never get enough to eat at school, you know!"

"Rubbish!" said Mrs. Williams. "You're both as plump as can be!"

The two children went up the stairs two at a time. They stood at a landing window, looking down to the bottom of the garden. They could quite well see the roof of their playroom there. They looked at each other in excitement.

"I hope Chinky is there," said Mollie. "Because if he is, and has got the Wishmg-Chair with him, we shall be

able to fly off on an adventure or two without bothering

about anyone! It's always difficult to slip off in it when

Mother and Daddy are at home - and we just have to

keep the chair a secret. It would be too dreadful if it was

 

put into a museum, and

taken right away from us. It

must be very, very

valuable."

"Yes. We're really very

lucky to have a wishing-

chair of our own," said

Peter. "It's a long time since

we got it now. Come on -

let's put our things in our

bedrooms, and then ask

Mrs. Willy to let us take our

tea down to the playroom.

Perhaps Chinky is there."

"He may be waiting

outside," said Mollie. "He

can't get in because the

door is locked. I shall love to

see his dear little pixie face

again. We're lucky to have a

pixie for a friend!"

Mrs. Willy was quite

pleased to let them have a

tray of goodies to take down

to the playroom with them.

She piled it with buns and

,, „,..,, , new bread and butter, and a

Mrs. h-ittv gave mem a tray .

,V,/,,-„ T. / ,,. " slab or honey in the comb,

i'/ gOiht tilings [01 ted.

biscuits, and ice-crcam out of the fridge. It did look good!

"I'll take some ginger-beer down under my arm," said Peter. "I can manage the tray, too, if you'll bring the biscuits and ice-cream - they look as if they might slip about!"

"I'll get the key of the playroom, too," said Mollie, and she took it off its hook. Then, feeling excited, the two of them went carefully down the garden path, carrying everything between them. Would Chinky be waiting for them?

He was, of course, because the robin had flown down to tell him that the children were coming. He hid behind some tall hollyhocks, and leapt out on them as they came up to the door of the playroom.

"Mollie! Peter! I'm here!"

"Chinky! We are glad to see you!" said Mollie. "Wait till I put down all this stuff and I'll give you a hug! There!"

She gave the little pixie such a hug that he almost choked. He beamed all over his face. "Where's the key?" he said. "I'll open the door. I want to get the wishing- chair inside before anyone sees it. There's a tiresome little brownie who keeps on wanting to sit in it."

He unlocked the door of the playroom and they all went in. Chinky helped them with the food, and then ran to get the wishing-chair. He staggered in with it, beaming.

"I tipped that tiresome brownie off the seat, and he fell into some nettles," said Chinky. "He shouted like anything. Well, does the chair look just the same as ever?"

"Oh, vt'x!" said Mollie, in delight, looking at the polished wooden chair. "Your mother does keep it well polished, Chinky. Did it grow its wings and tlv off at all, while we were away at school this term?"

"It grew its wings once," said Chinky, "but as I was in bed with a cold I couldn't fly off anywhere exciting in it - so I tied it to one of the legs of my bed, in case it tried to do anything silly, like flying out of the window."

Mollie giggled. "And did it try?" she asked.

"Oh, yes - it woke me up in the middle of the night, flapping its wings and tugging at my bed," said Chinky with a grin. "But it couldn't get away, and in the morning its wings had gone again. So that was all right."

"I do so hope it will grow its wings this weekend," said Peter. "We've only got a few days' holiday, then we go back to school again - and as Mother and Daddy are both away we really could go off on an adventure or two without any difficulty."

"I expect it will," said Chinky, looking at the chair. He felt its legs to see if there were any bumps coming, which meant that its wings were sprouting. But he couldn't feel any. What a pity!

Soon they were all sitting down enjoying Mrs. Williams's buns and ice-cream. It was a hot day, so they drank rather a lot of the ginger-beer.

"It won't last long if we drink it at this rate!" said Peter. "I say - I wonder if Mrs. Willy would mind if we lived down here in the playroom all this weekend - slept here, too?"

"That would be fun!" said Mollie. "I don't see why we shouldn't. You could come too, Chinky."

It was very easy to arrange. Mrs. Williams smiled and nodded. "Yes, you do that," she said. "Your mother said I was to let you do what you liked, so long as it wasn't anything silly. I'll take down bedding for you."

"Oh, no," said Peter, hurriedly. "We'll take it all down, Mrs. Willy." He didn't want any questions about the wishing-chair! "And Mrs. Willy, we could have all our meals down there, if you like. We don't want anything hot, you know, this weather. If you could give us some tins and a bottle of milk, we could pick our own fruit and salad out of the garden. We shouldn't be any bother to you at all then."

"You're no bother!" said Mrs. Williams. "But you do just what you like this weekend, so long as you're good and happy. I'll give you tins and milk and anything else you want - and don't be afraid I'll come bothering you, because I won't! I know how children like to have their own little secrets, and I shan't come snooping round!"

Well, that was grand! Now they could go and live in the playroom, and sleep there, too - and if the wishing- chair grew its wings at any time, they would know at once! They would hear it beginning to creak, and see the bumps growing on its legs and the wings sprouting. Not a minute would be wasted!

It was fun taking down everything to the gay little playroom. Chinky kept out of sight, of course, because nobody knew anything about him. He was as much of a secret as the wishing-chair!

"There now," said Mollie, at last. "Everything is ready for us - food - drink, too bedding - and a cushion and rug for you, Chinky. We're going to have a lovely time! Wishing-chair, grow your wings as soon as you can, and everything will be perfect!"

" Wishing-chair, grow your wings as soon as you can," said Mollie.

The wishing-chair gave the tiniest little cree-ee-eak. "Did you hear that?" said Chinky. "Perhaps it will grow its wings soon. We'll have to keep a watch. Where shall we go to, if it does grow its wings?"

"Is there a Land of Lost Things, or something like that?" said Peter. "I got into awful trouble this term because I lost my watch. Or what about going to a Land of Circuses or Fairs? I'd love to see a whole lot of those at once."

"I never heard of those lands," said Chinky. "Why don't we just let the chair take us somewhere on its own? It would be fun not to know where we are going!"

"Oooh, yes," said Peter. "That would be really exciting. Chair, do you hear us? Grow your wyings and you can take us anywhere you like. But do, do hurry upr

CREE-EE-EAK

MOLLIE and Peter spent a very jolly evening with Chinky, down in the playroom. They played snap and happy families and ludo, and all the time they watched the wishing-chair to see if it would grow its wings. They did so long to fly off on an adventure again.

 

Mollie, Peter and Chinky spent a jolly evening playing snap.

 

But the chair stood there quietly, and when it was half- past eight the children were so sleepy that they felt they really must go to bed.

"We'd better go and have a bath up at the house," said Peter. "I feel dirty, travelling all the way home by train. We'll dress properly again, just in case the wishing-chair grows its wings and flies off with us. We'll say good-night to Mrs. Willy, too, so that she doesn't feel she's got to come down to see if we're all right."

Other books

Over the Fence by Elke Becker
Vanilla Salt by Ada Parellada
Behind God's Back by Harri Nykanen
Alias Dragonfly by Jane Singer
Wild Encounter by Nikki Logan
Monkey on a Chain by Harlen Campbell
The Art of Political Murder by Francisco Goldman
Our Chance by Natasha Preston