TALES FROM WITCHWAY WOOD: Crash 'n' Bang (16 page)

Gareth blew a stream of small, questioning bubbles.
Plop-plop-pop?

‘Well, yes,’ said Arthur. ‘Yes, of
course
I want to win. And obviously I want a record contract – who wouldn’t? But everything’s happening so
fast
. It’s all out of my control. Right now I just wish I was home eating one of Mam’s curries, getting ready to do a local gig where nobody expects anything.’

PLOP!
Gareth blew a big bubble of stout support.

‘Well, I know that,’ said Arthur. ‘I know we’re
good
. But are we good
enough
? We haven’t heard the competition and some people – well, most people – just don’t
get
Crash ’n’ Bang. And we’re not at our best right now. O’Brian’s sulking and won’t be parted from his Pot in case someone steals it. And Tallula’s never been on a stage before so I’m worried about that. And I wouldn’t admit this to anyone else, but I’m a bit hurt because I didn’t get any fan mail although the piano’s the most important instrument and after all I did
start
the band . . .’

And so it went on, for quite some time. Another large, sleek limousine drew up and parked alongside the first – but Arthur didn’t even notice.

Some time later, Arthur came back into the boiler room. Everyone appeared to be asleep and snoring apart from the boiler, which was wide awake and roaring. He pulled the string hanging next to the bare light bulb and crept over to his mattress in the dark.

‘You’ve been a while,’ came O’Brian’s voice.

‘Yes,’ said Arthur.

‘Did you speak to the manager?’

‘No. He’s a bit tied up. Another celebrity’s just arrived. Lulu Lamarre. She’s out there signing autographs for the staff. She has twenty-seven pieces of luggage. I counted.’

‘So what took you so long, then?’ asked O’Brian.

‘I – er – checked on Gareth,’ said Arthur. ‘He – er – he says he’s fine.’

Tallula lay curled up in the dark in the back of the van, wishing that the voice droning on in the front seat would talk a little more quietly. This was the
third
visitor to the van and it seemed that he was going to be there for some time. Despite stuffing her fingers in her ears, she could hear every word.

‘. . . And everything keeps going wrong, simply everything. Ever since I wouldn’t mend the Fairy’s shoes. It was bad enough turning a job down – Leprechauns aren’t supposed to do that. But it was the
way
I did it, Gareth. I was rude. I shouted. Mocked her taste in music. That’s why she’s got it in for me. I can see her now, laughing in her little mushroom house, waving her vicious little wand, sending me misfortune after misfortune. And it’s not going to stop. You know what’ll happen tomorrow, don’t you? I won’t be able to stop my feet skipping and I’ll look even sillier than usual. And my fingers are bandaged so I’ll mess up the solo and we’ll lose the Battle of the Bands and
it’ll be all my fault
! And another thing. I’m worried about the Pot. It’s going to get stolen, I just know it. I’ve managed to hang on to it so far, but it’s only a matter of time. She’s saving that for last. I’ll go home without it and be the laughing stock of the Leprechaun world . . .’

And so it went on . . .

And on . . .

And on.

A New Day Dawns

Scott Sinister sat in the dining room of the Ritz hotel, waiting for his breakfast to arrive. He had ordered the works – cereal, grapefruit, a full fry-up, toast, marmalade, a selection of jams and coffee. Well, why not? He wasn’t paying.

The dining room was deserted. Scott didn’t like to be pestered by autograph hunters at mealtimes. At his insistence, the management had placed a notice on the dining-room door. It said:

CELEBRITIES ONLY.

CLOSED TO THE PUBLIC.

He shook out the local paper that had been thoughtfully placed on the table and examined the headline on the front page. It screamed:

EXCLUSIVE! MYSTERY

CELEBRITIES REVEALED!

Scott gave a pleased little smile and read on.

We can finally reveal the identity of the Mystery Celebrities who will be helping judge today’s Battle of the Bands competition. Last night, our reporter observed the arrival of two limousines at the exclusive Ritz hotel. First to arrive was Scott Sinister, star of stage and screen!

That’s me, thought Scott happily. He loved seeing his name in the paper.

The second limousine, which arrived shortly after, contained the second Mystery Celebrity, who turns out to be –

Just at that moment, the dining-room door burst open. Scott looked up eagerly, expecting his breakfast.

It wasn’t, though.

‘
You!
’ snarled Scott, throwing down the paper and starting to his feet.

‘
You!
’ hissed Lulu.

Not a great start to the day.

‘I still can’t believe they wouldn’t serve us breakfast,’ said Arthur. ‘I’m sure it’s against the law.’

‘We’ll get something when we get to the field,’ promised TT. ‘Right now, I need to concentrate on driving. Watch out for the signs. The big yellow arrows.’

‘I hope they didn’t charge the full amount,’ went on Arthur. ‘Did you pay with the Magic Card?’

‘I did,’ said TT. ‘Don’t you worry about it. I’m the manager – I deal with the finances.’

‘I can’t
help
worrying,’ said Arthur. ‘I don’t trust that card of yours. I’ve never heard of a card that means you get everything for free. Suppose the Magic runs out?’

‘Trust me, it won’t,’ said TT confidently. ‘Anyway, we’re all going to be millionaires soon.’ He reached down beside the seat and came up with another large brown envelope. ‘Stop worrying and read your fan mail.’

‘There’s more fan mail?’

‘Yep. Picked it up from reception when I was paying.’

‘Is it all for Filth?’

‘Haven’t looked. Probably.’

Arthur snatched the envelope and threw it over his shoulder.

‘Here, Tallula,’ he snapped. ‘For you.’

Tallula caught the envelope and peered inside.

‘There’s three more for you, Filth,’ she said. ‘From those Banshee girls, by the look of it.’

‘Oh,
man
,’ sighed Filth.

‘And there’s a postcard for Arthur,’ said Tallula.

‘Really?’ said Arthur, brightening up.

‘It’s from your mother. It’s got a picture of a volcano.’

‘Oh. Well, read it out, then.’

‘
Dear son
,’ read Tallula. ‘
I am missing you. Had a takeaway lavaburger last night. No point cooking for one. Your loving Mam
.’

‘Well, that’s nice, isn’t it?’ said TT.

‘Mmm,’ said Arthur. He had mixed feelings about the postcard. It was nice to get it, of course, but it wasn’t exactly fan mail. Besides, he didn’t like to think of his mother sitting down to a lonely takeaway. Suddenly, he felt a long way from home.

O’Brian leaned against the window with his eyes closed. Talking his troubles over with Gareth the night before hadn’t helped as much as he had hoped. It had been good to get it off his chest, of course. But there had been no answers. No revelations. No hope for the future. He was on his own.

‘There’s a letter for you, O’Brian,’ said Tallula unexpectedly.

What was this? O’Brian sat up. He had fan mail? For the first time in ages, he felt his depression lift a little.

‘Shall I read it out?’

‘Yes, yes, read it out,’ said O’Brian.

‘
Dear O’Brian
,’ read Tallula. ‘
You weren’t answering your phone so me and the boys called round to check. Your Rainbow Deflector’s been stolen. The garden’s been stripped bare of shamrock and clover. Goblins have broken in and are squatting in the workshop. They’ve eaten all your food and have been kicking the shoes around and putting them back in all the wrong boxes . . .
’ Tallula broke off. ‘Um – do you want me to go on?’

‘Finish it,’ said O’Brian dully.

‘It’s just that there’s quite a bit more . . .’

‘I said finish it!’ shouted O’Brian. Tallula bent her head back to the letter.

‘. . .
 so we chased them away but we think they’ll come back because they’re hiding in the bushes and laughing. Also we bumped into Witch Sludgegooey, who says you’ve gone running off with your daft band to play that awful music you like so much in some faraway field. She says you have taken to wearing a pink T-shirt, of all things. You are a disgrace to the Leprechauns. Kind regards, your brother Paddy.

P.S. We noticed the Pot’s missing. Sludgegooey says you’ve taken it with you. Are you mad? Is a music festival any kind of place to take a pot of valuable gold? If it gets stolen, you’re for it. Return home immediately and explain yourself
.’

There was a long pause. Then TT said, ‘Hey! At least the sun’s shining.’