Molly and Pim and the Millions of Stars (16 page)

Was dancing a force of nature? Molly wasn't sure. Seals danced. Bees did too. And
it counted for something, because the hat had come to her. A connection had been
made. ‘I danced with Mama,' she said. There, it was out. ‘And afterwards her hat
flew off the tree and came to me.'

Now it was Pim who gazed admiringly.

‘You danced with her? Why didn't you tell me? That's amazing. You did it then. You
knew all along. That's why you're wearing that big funny hat!'

Molly frowned and touched protectively at the hat's floppy brim. She spoke with some
deliberation. ‘It wasn't that I knew it. It was more that I felt it.'

‘A feeling, not a knowing,' Pim said. He began to pace again. And then his finger
wiggled in the air, drawing something down from it. But before he could make any
calculation, before he could say anything, Molly leapt up.

‘Shhh.' She held her hands still. ‘It feels…it feels…'

What did Molly feel? She needed quiet. She knew it was important and that it was
more than Pim could work out, more than his wild thinking could uncover. But there
was too much. She couldn't look at the drawing. She couldn't look at the Mama tree.

Molly knelt down on the grass again. Claudine appeared from beneath the lilac bush;
she stood still and looked at Molly with a challenging stare, her eyes glowing in
the dark. The garden seemed large and still and waiting: every tree listening with
the tips of its leaves, every sprig of flower leaning towards her, expectantly. But
was it waiting, or was it telling her what to do?

Molly put her hand on her heart and listened. Every current within her rushed towards
it and swelled beneath it, wanting…

‘Every time I needed something, the Mama tree gave it to me,' she said. That was
it. From the very first vibration Molly felt when she'd needed to know her mama was
there. And when she was scared of the dark, the tree had lit up and drawn her towards
it. And when she was tired the branches had made themselves like arms to hold her.
Yes, that was how it was.

It came to her now in a flood. She'd leant into
the tree and felt faint with hunger,
and the tree had grown fruit. And when she threatened to chain herself to it, it
had grumbled, to help her change her mind. And then, of course, there had been the
dancing at night, the speak-to-me dance, the wild, true, force-of-nature dance that
had released the hat to her, as if her mama had thrown it off to say Well done! Well
done, my darling.

Pim was watching her. ‘It's true, Molly. It's wondrous and true, I'm sure.'

CHAPTER 23

Yellow Roses

Saturday arrived with the same bristling fervour as the Saturday before, when Molly's
mama had accidentally drunk the acorn potion and turned into a tree. But instead
of lying with her eyes shut against it all at the base of the tree, Molly slept soundly
in the branches.

She was woken by Maude's loud and frantic yelps. She sat up, dazed. It had been quite
a night, and she took a moment to reassemble everything in her mind. She looked over
to Pim. He was stirring in the branches.

Molly yawned and climbed to her feet. Her dress seemed to be standing up with her,
in angles of creases and dirt. She tried to run her fingers through her hair, but
it was too tangled. She grabbed the sunhat and pulled it on over the knots, and then
lowered Maude down in the pulley system. Molly climbed along the branch towards Pim
and pulled on his toe. Pim hardly had a moment to open his eyes before the sound
of a loud roar hurtled through the air.

It was the chainsaw. Ernest Grimshaw was warming it up. Pim and Molly stared at each
other in horror.

Moments later Ernest and Prudence Grimshaw arrived in the garden, wearing matching
canvas hats and army-green gumboots. Ernest Grimshaw wrenched the chainsaw in the
air and gave it a threatening rev. His eyes rolled slowly round the garden, and his
stomach bulged beneath a black collared T-shirt. He suddenly yanked at the hawthorn
bush and pulled its branches sideways,
as if looking for something suspicious hiding
there.

Prudence Grimshaw stood, hard and grey as a steel spike, by Ernest Grimshaw's side.
Her smile stretched her face taut as she gave a self-satisfied nod at Molly. ‘Where
is your mother? We have come to cut down this blasted tree. And then we're going
to shred it into woodchips. It makes a big mess. In the sky.' She added this last
bit about the sky with some satisfaction, as if it had only just occurred to her
that this was the problem.

Molly backed herself up to the tree, and Pim did too.

‘You can't cut this tree, not one little bit of it,' Molly growled.

Maude barked.

‘We won't let you cut down the tree. We won't even let you touch the branches,' added
Pim.

Ernest Grimshaw jerked the chainsaw upwards and let it roar. He smirked.

‘Where is your mother? Letting you run wild again, I see. What sort of a mother is
she? Wretched woman. Well, I don't see how you can stop us.' He revved the chainsaw
again.

Murder, thought Molly. That's what it would be.

Prudence Grimshaw now stepped forward, nose in the air. ‘If she had any sense at
all, your mother would have removed the wretched branches. We told her to, and she
ignored us. We don't like to be ignored, do we, Ernest?' she whined through her teeth.

‘Mama doesn't want the tree cut down. It's a very special type of tree; in fact,
the only one of its kind, and if you were nice people you would see that! So, if
you even try to cut it, we will call the police. And the Tree Protection Society.
They would be very angry if you cut it down,' Molly shouted back.

Ernest Grimshaw's fat, sweating arms gripped the chainsaw with determination.

Pim suddenly grabbed Molly's hand. ‘We won't budge until Molly's mum comes home,
and if you lay a hand on us, we'll fight you. We'll draw blood if we have to.'

Ernest Grimshaw's face ballooned, and Prudence Grimshaw began to quiver. Her eyes
blinked rapidly. Ernest blasted, ‘Worms! You are disgusting little worms! Mangy mongrels.
Upstarts! Worms! I'll show you—'

Prudence Grimshaw let out one of her hyena screeches and flashed a warning glare
at her thundering husband. ‘Wait.' She glided forward, her fingers flexing like claws.
‘How dare you threaten us? How dare you? You will OBEY us. MOVE ASIDE!'

Pim let go of the tree and took a step towards Prudence Grimshaw. Molly wondered
if he was about to tackle her.

‘I've got bad news for you, Mrs Grimshaw. We are not here to obey. We're here to
think for ourselves.'

‘And you should treat us with respect,' yelled Molly, anxious to get her word in.

Ernest Grimshaw pulled his wife out of the way. He puffed up his chest and marched
forward, as if into battle. ‘Brainless! Brainless fleas. That's all they are.
I'll
deal with them, Prudence.'

Then, without really knowing why, Molly opened her mouth and screamed. And the scream
pierced the air and rang out over the valley.

Ernest Grimshaw glared.

Then Pim screamed. And the two screams joined in the air and shook. Prudence Grimshaw's
face crumpled at the sound.

Molly and Pim turned to face the tree and clung to it. They raised their faces, sending
the scream up into the air.

Maude barked. Claudine paced.

Ernest Grimshaw's large sweaty hands clamped onto Molly's shoulders. He yanked her
away from the tree. But she jumped straight back to it. Then Ernest Grimshaw tackled
Pim. ‘Blasted dimwit pups! You are in my way,' he roared.

‘Molly?' Another voice rang out across the garden.

Molly swivelled, but she still clung to the tree.

Ellen came running across the garden. She held a bunch of yellow roses, heads down,
in her hand. Confusion clouded her eyes, but she still came, in a strange sort of
breathless gallop.

‘Who are you?' she said, staring at Ernest and Prudence Grimshaw. ‘Are you all right,
Molly?'

Everything stopped for a moment, as if to make room for Ellen.

‘Ellen, it's the Grimshaws. Come here and help me protect the tree. Hold it and don't
let go,' said Molly. ‘They want to cut it down.'

Prudence Grimshaw pounced forward. She fixed Ellen with a menacing stare, and her
voice
came out in a snarl. ‘Little girl, we are here to uphold our legal rights to
remove a tree that is overhanging our property, and if you don't want to get into
trouble, I suggest you stand back.'

‘Don't bother trying to reason with them,' roared Ernest Grimshaw, and he lurched
forward again and began trying to tear Pim off the tree.

Ellen stared in horror. Then, shaking herself into action, she lifted her arm high
and whacked Ernest Grimshaw over the head with the yellow roses.

Ernest Grimshaw turned on her, eyes blazing, ‘Hideous, hideous worm—'

Ellen didn't wait to hear what sort of worm she was. She hurled herself at the tree
and held on, pale as a sheet. She sought out Molly's eyes and together they opened
their mouths and screamed.

Then came Ellen's mother, striding across the garden. She was strong again; her hair
had its old upright composure, and she wore her boots.

‘What on earth is going on here?' Ellen's mother looked accusingly at the Grimshaws.
‘It
sounds like murder from the street. It's just as well I was waiting in the car.'

Everyone looked at Molly. Even Pim. What would she say? Ellen's gentle pleading face.
Pim's dark eyes full of green and wonder. They flashed a warning, ever so quietly
and quickly. Molly put her hands on the tree trunk. It felt warm.

‘Mama went to Cuba,' she said, ‘and the Grimshaws are trying to cut down her tree.'

Ellen's mother frowned. ‘But she couldn't have left you all on your own and gone
to Cuba? Surely? When will she be back? Who is your friend here? And what is going
on with the tree?'