Emily Feather and the Chest of Charms (3 page)

After that, Dan Hargreaves seemed to be back every day, standing at the front door and chatting to Lory.

“Why doesn't he ever come in?” Emily asked Lory a few days later, after she'd closed the front door and wandered into the kitchen, smiling foolishly.

Lory looked at her in surprise, as though she actually hadn't thought about it until now. “Well … I suppose I never asked him,” she admitted. “And he never said he wanted to.”

“Who never wanted to what?” their mother asked, coming past with an empty teacup and looking curiously at Lory. Their huge dog, Gruff, padded after her and nosed lovingly at Emily. He sniffed at Lory once and stepped back, his ears flattening. Emily scratched his chin and watched Lory trying to think what to say.

Lory flushed painfully scarlet, the colour rising up from her neck like a tide.

“There's a boy from school who likes her,” Emily explained. Then she frowned. Dan had somehow managed to avoid meeting Eva or Ash. She nibbled one fingertip. That felt a bit suspicious, a bit wrong. Was he avoiding them? And if so, why?

And more to the point, how? The house was surrounded by guard spells so strong and sensitive that Emily's dad could practically tell the postman's life history. Dan shouldn't have been able to sneak around without being noticed.

“Shut up, Emily,” Lory muttered. “You're such a little busybody. It's nothing, Mum. Just ignore her.” She hurried out of the kitchen and upstairs, leaving Eva and Emily staring after her.

“She's got a boyfriend?” Emily's mum asked, raising her eyebrows in perfect arches.

Emily shrugged. “No-oo. Maybe … I don't think so. He likes her, Lark says. Lory wasn't so sure, but now she's always chatting to him… He wrote her a song, but it's terrible.”

Eva nodded slowly. “A boy… Maybe he could come over for dinner… Your dad would
definitely
want to meet him.” She sighed. “Yes. Dinner. Lovely. I'll get Lory to tell him.”

“Mmm. Maybe…” But Emily was pretty sure Dan wouldn't come. She left her mum making more tea – Eva was designing a new fabric print, and that meant she drank bathtubs full of tea – and went upstairs. Lark and Lory both had their doors firmly closed and there was music coming from behind both of them. So they weren't in the same room, which was a bit worrying.

Before Dan Hargreaves had turned up, the sisters were always together, stretched out on each other's bedroom floors, gossiping or reading or singing along with the radio. It was as if Dan had planted himself in the middle, and now Lark and Lory couldn't see each other properly any more.

Suddenly cross, Emily banged on Robin's bedroom door and then flung it open.

“Watch it!” Robin cried. “You scared Brownie.” He was lying on his front on his bed, peering into his cupped hands.

As Emily came closer, she saw that Robin was holding the tiny little chocolatey mouse. She giggled. Robin was also holding a chocolate digestive biscuit, which was about twice as big as the mouse was. It was melting. Both Robin and the mouse were staring up at her indignantly, and there was chocolate all over the mouse's great moustache of white whiskers.

“Is that what he's called? Brownie?” Emily asked, kneeling on the floor next to the bed and looking at the mouse. He glared back at her suspiciously and then went back to nibbling the chocolate digestive.

“Mm-hm. I thought it was a good name. And it fits. They're definitely his favourite food.”

“Shouldn't he be eating normal mouse stuff?” Emily suggested. “Like, sunflower seeds? And peanuts?”

“He likes peanut butter fudge,” said Robin.

“No! I mean just peanuts. I don't think mice are supposed to eat sweets.”

“This one is.” Robin shrugged slightly. “I did buy him some mouse food. I added it on to Mum's online shopping order without her noticing. Don't tell her about him, will you? She doesn't like mice.”

“OK. Didn't he take to the mice food then?”

“No. He sulked until I gave him a bag of Maltesers
and
two of Dad's After Eights. Don't tell Dad either, by the way. He noticed the After Eights had gone.”

“How did a mouse that small eat a whole bag of Maltesers?” Emily said, peering at Brownie. He was very tiny, but having said that, he was making good progress on the chocolate digestive. Slow but steady. He just had to keep stopping to suck chocolate off his whiskers.

“Well, I might have helped him a bit. And I had a couple of After Eights too. And I did have to give Gruff one, because he was being a bit jealous about Brownie. But Dad said half the box was gone and that just wasn't true. Anyway, he's a chocolate mouse, Ems. He's just made that way. And you were the one who made him, so you can't complain. In fact, I think it's your duty to help me feed him properly. Can you make us some brownies?”

Robin stared at her pleadingly and Emily was sure that the mouse had understood too. He stopped eating and his ears seemed to prick up. There was definitely an excited, hopeful look in his tiny, dark-chocolate eyes.

“I'll make some later, I promise. But I need to talk to you about something important first.”

Robin sat up, hugging Brownie against him tightly. The little mouse peered accusingly at Emily over the top of Robin's fingers. “What have you done now?” Robin whispered crossly. “Please tell me you haven't rescued another random water sprite? You're going to get me into so much trouble with Mum and Dad!”

“It's nothing like that!” Emily swallowed. “And it isn't my fault, this time, anyway. It's Lory. I'm worried about her.”

Robin snorted. “Why? Lory can look after herself, Emily. Better than you can.”

“It's that boy. None of us like him, have you noticed that? Lark really doesn't—”

“Because she's jealous! She's not used to Lory wanting to hang around with someone who isn't her.”

“Maybe. But I don't think it's just that.” Emily frowned. “He hasn't met Mum or Dad. They haven't even seen him out of the window, or anything like that. How come? Should he be able to do that?”

Robin looked at her seriously and Emily realized he was finally paying proper attention to what she was saying. “No. No, he shouldn't. Are you sure? Dad doesn't know anything about him?”

“Mum said he didn't. He'd have told her, wouldn't he?”

“I suppose so…”

“What does it mean?” Emily asked nervously. “Is Dan one of you?”

“No!” Robin laughed scornfully. “I'd be able to tell. Unless he had really amazing disguise spells. And Lory would know, wouldn't she? Don't be stupid.”

Emily bit her lip to stop herself saying something grumpy back. She had a feeling that Robin was being so rude about it because he wasn't actually certain he was right. And he was scared.

“Can people do disguise spells like that?”

“Yes,” Robin muttered. “But you have to be very strong. It's like when Lark and Lory were telling you about make-up, remember? You asked why didn't they just do it with magic, but it's not so easy, because you have to keep the spell going for so long, and make sure it's the same every time someone sees you. Same for a disguise spell.” He shook his head. “He really can't be one of us. I'm sure I'd know.”

He didn't look very sure, though, and Brownie had stopped eating the biscuit, as if he could feel that something was wrong – although it could just have been that he was full. Emily reckoned he'd already eaten at least his own weight in digestive. The little mouse pattered down Robin's arm and on to the bedside table, where he crawled inside one of Eva's pretty painted teacups. Robin must have borrowed it from the kitchen. It was lined with what looked like a sock, and Brownie curled up in it blissfully.

“Do you think we should talk to Lark about it?” Emily suggested. “The thing is, she's already in a bad mood because she's missing Lory…”

Robin shook his head. “No. We ought to investigate. Next time he turns up, we'll spy on them.”

“All right.” It felt good to have a plan, even if it wasn't a very great one. Emily gave a little sigh of relief. “So. Normal brownies, or do you want white chocolate chips in them?”

Robin leaned back against his bedroom wall, frowning. “Don't mind. Whatever you like.”

Which made Emily think he was really, really worried.

 

“He's here!” Robin came dashing out into the garden where Emily was sitting on the rocks at the edge of the pond, talking to Sasha.

“The boy?” Sasha asked curiously. Emily had told her about him. She looked hopefully at Robin. “Where are Lady Eva and Lord Ash?”

Emily blinked. It always took her a moment to work out who Sasha meant when she called their mum and dad that. She kept forgetting how important they were in the fairy world – that they were members of the royal court, even though they lived here.

“Both working.” Robin said. “Emily's right. He only turns up when they're not going to see him. There's no way I'm interrupting Dad writing. Someone phoned a bit earlier on and he did his evil dinosaur roar down the phone and then threw it at the door.”

“And Mum said not to disturb her unless it was an emergency.” Emily frowned anxiously.

“So … they're both busy? I could come inside and see him?” Sasha suggested.

Robin looked at her in surprise. “What for?”

“Well, if he's someone from our world, there's a chance I might recognize him,” Sasha said humbly.

“Yes!” Emily squeaked eagerly. “Come on. But no one can see you. Lark and Lory don't know about you either, and I don't want either of them finding out. They'd probably blackmail me – make me tidy their rooms or something.”

“OK, but if they see her, or Mum or Dad do, I didn't know anything, all right?” Robin stood blocking the kitchen doorway, staring grimly at Emily.

“All right! But they won't. We'll be careful. Really, really careful, I promise.”

“I could transform,” Sasha whispered as they tiptoed into the kitchen.

“Into what?” Emily asked, fascinated.

Sasha shrugged. “Water would be easiest.”

“You can turn into water?”

“Of course – I'm a water fairy.” Sasha smiled at her, but Robin shook his head.

“No. For a start using too much magic round here means Mum or Dad will notice. We were lucky with Emily's spell to make Brownie.” A small dark head appeared over the collar of Robin's thin cotton shirt – the mouse had heard his name. “No, no food. Go back to sleep. And anyway, how much water are we talking about? We're not carrying you around in a bucket – that's going to look really obvious. And what if we spill you?”

Sasha's eyes widened. “Perhaps not. Although it can be useful. Especially if I have to hide.”

Emily giggled. “There'd just be this strange puddle… But for the minute, let's just try and keep you hidden in your girl form.”

They peered round the kitchen door, looking in the hallway and trying to listen for Lory and the boy.

“I reckon they've gone upstairs,” Robin muttered, edging out into the hallway, and frowning up at the stairs above them. “She's actually brought him into the house this time. And none of the guard spells noticed – or at least Dad didn't come storming out of his study.”

“So maybe he is just an ordinary boy,” Emily said, frowning. “If he was a fairy like you, surely that would have triggered the spells?”

“Dad knows even if it's humans in the house,” Robin pointed out. “He has to be really careful, because of the doors. Dad ought to know that Dan's here, whoever he is. I don't think he's human at all. Come on. We'd better go and see where they are.”

The three of them went creeping up the stairs. It felt like a game of hide and seek, and Emily wanted to giggle. But Sasha was following close behind her, her hand wound into Emily's, and she was trembling, Emily could feel it.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Emily whispered. “You're shaking.”

“I want to help,” Sasha murmured back. “I like your sisters. And Lark was crying yesterday. She sat by the pond and some of her tears fell in the water. I could feel them – I could feel her. She doesn't suspect Dan's anything other than a boy, but she doesn't trust him either. And she misses her twin.”

Emily nodded, hating the thought of Lark crying.

“And if this Dan is only using Lory to get through one of the doors, who knows what'll happen to her? What if he takes her with him?” Sasha shook her greenish hair and shivered.

Robin stopped dead and Emily bumped into him. He looked round at Sasha, his eyes suddenly a stormy grey and his lips pale. “Is that what you think he's trying to do?”

Sasha shrugged gracefully, the watery fabric of her dress shimmering over her shoulders. “I don't know. Maybe not. Maybe he's just any old boy. But that's what it sounds like, doesn't it?”