TALES FROM WITCHWAY WOOD: Crash 'n' Bang (20 page)

‘It’s a penny whistle, if you must know.’

‘Oh, I
see
! And that’s traditional with you Pixies, is it? Hear that, lads? The Pixie’s playing a pen—’

‘What did you just call me?’

‘What?’

‘Did you just call me a Pixie?’

‘Yes. So?’

And O’Brian exploded. He leapt to his feet, sending the Pot rolling away under the no-food table.

‘Similar hats! We wear
similar hats
! I’m a
Leprechaun
, bone brain! A Leprechaun and proud of it! Call me a Pixie again! Come on, say it again!’

At that point,
Betty and the Bully Girls
came clumping in, fresh from their spot in the limelight. The general reaction to their efforts had been negative apart from Lulu, and even she had sounded insincere. However, they brightened up at the prospect of a fight.

‘Are you
threatening
me?’ sneered Rodney. But he backed away. He was wearing a white suit. The Leprechaun had a cup of tea in his hand. There was a distinct danger of spillage.

‘Hey – hey!’ TT’s alarmed voice came from the tent entrance. ‘What’s going on?’

The others stood behind him. Tallula and Filth were carrying drums and Chip had Arthur’s piano on his back.

‘He called me a Pixie!’ roared O’Brian. The T-shirt was constricting him, but that only made him madder. He drew back his arm, ready to hurl the tea over Rodney’s pristine white jacket. Luckily, at that moment, Benny Bonkers came bustling in.

‘What’s happening here? Everyone’s waiting! Come on, Rodney, you’re on!’

With relief,
Rodney and the
Rattles
hurriedly picked up their banjos and made for the stage, leaving O’Brian dancing on the spot, puce with rage.

‘Hey man, cool it,’ soothed Filth. ‘He’s not worth it, dude.’

‘He called me a Pixie!’

‘Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it get to you.’

‘Quite right,’ said TT. ‘He’s just trying to unsettle you. You should rise above it. Right, Arthur?’

‘Right,’ agreed Arthur. And Tallula stooped down and gave O’Brian a comforting little hug. O’Brian resisted for a moment, then gave in.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘He got to me, that’s all. I’m OK now.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ said Arthur. ‘Just drink up your tea and relax, because we’re on next.’

‘All right. Where’s my Pot?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Arthur. ‘You had it when we left.’

‘I think it rolled under the table,’ said O’Brian. Everyone looked under the table. There was a sea of crumpled paper cups and the odd trampled sandwich.

But no Pot.

‘
NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
’ The anguished scream burst from O’Brian’s lips. Everyone covered their ears.

We’re On!

‘And now,’ Benny Bonkers told the audience, ‘the act I know all you Skeletons have been waiting for. It’s
Rodney and the Rattles
!
’

There was a bit of scattered applause as Rodney came swaggering onstage, followed by
the Rattles
. The area at the front of the stage had thinned out. The sun was really hot now. An ice-cream van had arrived in the field and most people apart from a handful of Skeletons had joined the queue.

‘Handsome,’ cooed Lulu. ‘Such lovely suits.’

‘Posers,’ sniffed Scott.

TWAAANNNG! The Rattles
struck a chord. Rodney stepped up to the mike, sneered, then burst into song. He had a high, nasal singing voice that grated on the ear.

‘
Everything’s all about meeee,
’ sang Rodney.

‘
I’m handsome as can beeee,

I look so cool in my white suit

As everyone must agreeeee . . .
’

TWANG! TWONG!
went the banjos.

‘
The girls all faint and sigh

Whenever I’m passing by,

They’d like to be my girlfriend

But none of them qualify . . .
’

‘It’s gone!’ wailed O’Brian. ‘I just put it down for two minutes – two minutes, that’s all – and it’s vanished!’

‘Cool it, man,’ said Filth. ‘It probably just, like, carried on rolling. It’ll be in a corner somewhere.’

‘Or maybe someone’s hidden it for a joke,’ suggested TT.

‘A joke?’ shrieked O’Brian. ‘A
joke
?
You’re saying this is
funny
?’

‘I’m saying it’s just temporarily mislaid. Keep your voice down – everyone’s looking.’

Indeed, everyone was. Clearly there was yet another drama unfolding.

‘What’s up with the nutter?’ enquired one of the Bully Girls.

‘Nothing,’ said Arthur. ‘It’s a private matter. He’s fine.’

‘No, I’m not!’

‘Calm
down
. We’ll have another look. As soon as we get offstage.’

‘I’m not going onstage. Not without my Pot.’

‘Oh yes, you are,’ said Tallula, coming up from behind. She had made three searches of the tent, although it was clearly pointless.

‘I’m not so.’

‘You
are
. Look, I’m sorry if I sound unsympathetic, but we’ve all got problems, you know. Arthur’s homesick, I’ve got to go out in public wearing this horrible frock and Filth – well, I’m sure he’s got worries too, haven’t you, Filth?’

Filth shrugged. ‘Not really,’ he said. ‘Just looking forward to the gig, you know?’

‘Which is worse?’ went on Tallula. ‘Losing a pot of gold which you don’t ever open or letting your friends down? Will you just forget about everything else and do what you’re supposed to do, which is
play
? And don’t start whining about the curse because we’ve been through all that. It’s not all about you. It’s about Crash ’n’ Bang. This is our big chance.
Are you going to ruin it?
’

Everyone stared at O’Brian. He fingered the neck of his T-shirt. Then, slowly, he picked up the whistle.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m not. To heck with it. You can count me in.’ Which was just as well, because right at that moment, Benny Bonkers came running with
Rodney and the Rattles
strutting along behind.

‘Where are
The Witchway Rhythm Boys
?’ he shouted. ‘Come on, lads, get your instruments onstage! You’re on!’

‘Is this the last band?’ yawned Lulu. ‘Because I’m bored now.’

‘Really?’ said Scott. ‘Personally, I’m thoroughly enjoying myself. What about you, Mr Mayor?’

‘Well, as Mayor –’

‘Ali?’ interrupted Lulu. ‘Is this the last band?’

‘It is,’ said Ali. ‘
The Witchway Rhythm Boys
.’

‘Oh, right,’ said Scott. ‘That funny little outfit from Witchway Wood. I’ve heard them before. Nothing special.’

‘So have I,’ said Lulu. ‘The drummer’s adorable. There he is, look.
Sweeeet
.’

Up on the stage, a small Fiend was unhurriedly setting up his drum kit. A short, squat Troll was stomping around with a piano on his back while a fussy-looking Dragon decided the best place to put it. A Leprechaun wearing an odd, pink, lumpy T-shirt that was clearly unbearably tight was hanging around in the background, together with –

‘Oh my!’ said Lulu. ‘A Werewolf! Is she going to
sing
? What a horrible frock.’

‘It’s not a horr—’ began Scott, then stopped. Even he had to admit that the frock was indeed horrible. He tried to think of something nice to say about the unexpected Werewolf but couldn’t come up with anything.

‘As Mayor,’ said the Mayor firmly, determined to get a word in for once. ‘As
Mayor
, I must say I shall be glad when this is over. It seems to be getting rather chilly, do you notice?’

And it was. Overhead, clouds were gathering. The crowds were uneasily peering up at the sky, reaching for rugs to put round their shoulders. This was all wrong. The sun always shone in Sludgehaven. Clouds were unheard of at this time of year. Little white, friendly,
fluffy ones, maybe – but not big, black, boiling, angry
ones.

Benny Bonkers hurried onstage looking anxious.

‘Ready, boys?’ he asked. ‘Because time’s getting on.’

‘Oh yeah,’ said Filth with a grin. ‘We’re ready. Bring it on.’

‘Right, boys and girls!’ declaimed Benny into the mike. ‘Here we go with the last band. All the way from Witchway Wood, we have
The Witchway Rhythm Boys!
Give ’em a big hand!’ And he ran offstage.

But the crowd had lost interest in the stage. Nobody clapped. Nobody cheered. Everybody was staring up at the darkening sky. A strange silence had spread across the field. It seemed that everyone was holding their breath, waiting for something. The only sound was the distant chimes of the hastily retreating ice-cream van.

Filth picked up his drumsticks. Arthur raised his claws over the keyboard. O’Brian put his whistle to his mouth. Tallula walked to the microphone, straightened her shoulders and took a shaky breath. In the wings, TT and Chip crossed their fingers . . .

CRRRRRRRAAAAACK!

A mighty clap of thunder rent the heavens, accompanied by a flash of lightning –

And then came the rain! Although the word
rain
isn’t strong enough for what it actually did. It deluged. It poured. It spouted, bucketed, pelted, came down in sheets, blankets and extra-thick duvets! Nothing can describe how hard it rained.