Mystery for Megan (4 page)

Later came, at last! Megan and Freya raced to their secret place in the treehouse and couldn’t get up the ladder quickly enough. This time, as a special treat, Megan took
her cuddly bunny, Flopsy, and dressed her in her best pink scarf.

‘She’s lovely,’ Freya said when she saw her. ‘And I’ve got some things to show you too.’

She opened her bag and pulled out two small bottles of orange juice and a container with two chocolate buns inside.

‘Ooh, yummy!’ said Megan.

‘Granny made them,’ Freya explained. ‘Granny makes the best chocolate buns ever. She used to run the baker’s shop and she made all their cakes.’

‘Did she?’ said Megan.

Freya nodded. ‘Mum runs it now, but Granny still makes lots of the cakes. Dad works on a ship, you know.’

Megan had never known anyone who worked on a ship before.

‘He’s a radio operator,’ said Freya.

‘What does one of those do?’ asked Megan.

‘Operates radios,’ said Freya laughing, and setting Megan off. ‘He’s gone to Australia. He’ll be back in a few weeks though.’

Megan tried to picture Australia as she munched her bun . . . Mmmmmm! It was the best chocolate bun she had ever tasted.

Then Megan told Freya about the very strange happening with the mouse, and how she was almost certain that the mouse had been telling her to go to her mum.

Freya nodded knowingly. ‘Granny says that’s just the kind of thing they do. Once, when she was little, her rabbit, Smoky, hurt his leg and Whiskers came and told her. Then once, she
left a tap running in the bathroom and Whiskers told her about that too.’

‘But how do they know?’ asked Megan.

‘I’ve no idea,’ said Freya. ‘I think they’re magic mice with magic whiskers.’

The girls laughed.

Megan wondered whether to mention the mouse spinning around three times. She was afraid Freya might think she was silly, but her curiosity got the better of her.

‘Do you know if Whiskers . . . you know . . . ever kind of . . . spun around?’

Megan was relieved to see Freya nodding frantically.

‘Oh yes, the spinning,’ said Freya. ‘Granny says when it’s something really important, then they spin around three times.’

‘Really?’ said Megan.

Freya nodded again. ‘And sometimes, when more mice are needed, then a few Whiskerses come to help.’

‘Honestly?’ said Megan.

‘Yes, honestly,’ said Freya. ‘They helped Granny loads of times when she was little.’

Freya then told Megan how, when Granny and her brother Jonathon were little, Jonathon had tried to climb the big tree in the garden and slipped.

‘One of the mice came to tell Granny,’ said Freya. ‘But she wouldn’t go so all the mice came out and spun around. Then she heard Jonathon shouting and realised that
something was really wrong. They’re all very helpful,’ Freya said, as if she was talking about teachers or shop assistants and not about a lot of spinning, long-whiskered mice!

But Megan was puzzled by something. ‘How come your granny used to live in my house when she was little and now she lives next door with you?’

‘Because she grew up and married Grandpa and had Mum and Uncle David. They lived somewhere else then,’ said Freya. ‘When Grandpa died, Granny moved in next door and we moved in
with her.’

Then Megan suddenly thought of something else. ‘Why did you say earlier that you wondered why the mice had come back now, and about Dorothy coming back?’ she asked.

‘Well, Granny used to see the mice and Dorothy when she was little. Dorothy used to live here, years and years ago. Then the mice and Dorothy just disappeared,’ replied Freya.

Megan giggled. ‘But that would make Dorothy really old.’

‘She is really old,’ Freya said. ‘Granny is seventy and she has known Dorothy since she was tiny.’

Megan’s eyes widened with disbelief.

‘It’s true,’ said Freya.

‘But then Dorothy must be nearly seventy as well!’ said Megan in amazement.

‘Exactly,’ said Freya.

Megan shook her head disbelievingly. ‘She can’t be
that
old,’ she said. Megan didn’t know a lot about cats, but she knew that they didn’t live for that
long.

‘Oh, you should hear about Buttercup,’ said Freya. ‘He’s really old too.’

‘Who’s Buttercup?’ asked Megan.

‘Well, remember I said there was something else I wanted to tell you? Buttercup is the something else. He’s a big golden retriever dog. I’ve never seen him, of course,’
Freya added. ‘But Granny says he’s lovely.’

‘
He?
’ said Megan. ‘Buttercup doesn’t sound like a boy dog’s name.’

‘It’s because of the buttercups and Buttercup House,’ said Freya. ‘I don’t know his real name. Granny can tell you all about him, if you like.’

Megan really wanted to know more about Buttercup, so they made a plan for Megan to go for tea and meet Granny the following afternoon.

That night in bed, Megan snuggled up to Flopsy. She wondered what Emily and Beth would make of all this. She could just imagine their faces and Emily shaking her head and
saying, ‘A cat who’s nearly seventy? No way!’ She was sure they wouldn’t believe her. Then, the more she thought about meeting Freya’s granny, the more excited she
got, so that in the end she had to count to at least two hundred and fifty before she finally fell asleep. When she did fall asleep she dreamed only about magic mice and fluffy old cats and a dog
called Buttercup!

The next day at school went on forever. Megan was excited all day. Everything Freya had told her seemed very mysterious and Megan wasn’t used to mystery. She had been
used to a normal life in a normal house in a normal street. But none of what had happened over the last few days was anything like normal.

Megan tried really hard not to ask Freya questions at school during lessons.

‘Is Dorothy really that old?’ Megan whispered at lunch, unable to contain herself any longer. ‘And is Buttercup even older?’

Freya nodded. ‘They are both ancient,’ she whispered. Then she held her finger up to her lips and repeated her granny’s words, ‘Remember, keep the secret in the
box.’

By the time Megan got home from school, she felt quite sick with excitement and went straight upstairs to change out of her uniform. She didn’t see any mice on the way
up, or in her room, and when she looked out of the window into the garden there was no sign of Dorothy. It was almost as if the mice and the cat had never existed.

It was a warm, sunny day, so Megan put on her favourite white T-shirt with flowers and sequins on the front. Freya was waiting by the fence when Megan arrived, just as they had planned.

‘Come on,’ said Freya excitedly, holding Megan’s hand as she climbed through the gap in the fence into Freya’s garden. ‘You should see all the food Mum and Granny
have prepared. Come on.’

The girls ran across the garden and Freya led Megan down the special walkway she’d mentioned. It was made from tree stumps which stretched alongside the wall like steps.

‘Cover your eyes,’ Freya said, as she led Megan into the kitchen. ‘Now, open!’

Megan gasped. ‘Wow!’ she said.

Anyone would have thought half the class was coming for tea! There were chunks of warm bread, straight from the oven, a pot of raspberry jam, a bowl of grapes and a small dish of crinkly crisps.
There were carrot sticks and cucumber sticks and sausages
on
sticks. Then, Freya’s mum put one last plate on the table, a plate of Granny’s home-made shortbread. It looked
delicious!

Freya’s mum was small, just like Freya, with short dark hair and the same elfish look. ‘Would you like to eat in the garden?’ she suggested. ‘It seems a shame to be
inside on a day like this.’

‘Ooh, yes please,’ the girls said at exactly the same time, then said, ‘Jinx!’ and linked their little fingers.

They loaded their plates full of yummy things and sat in the sun enjoying their food. It was their first picnic of the year.

‘I love picnics,’ Megan said.

‘Me too,’ said Freya. ‘And Dorothy.’

Megan stared at Freya. ‘How do you know she likes picnics?’ she asked.

‘Granny told me,’ said Freya. ‘When Granny was a little girl, she was having a picnic with her doll and teddy and Dorothy came and sat next to her and wouldn’t move until
she’d finished the picnic. Granny was feeling lonely at the time too, so she thinks Dorothy came to keep her company.’

‘But how would Dorothy know that Granny was feeling lonely?’ Megan asked.

‘Granny said she could just tell that Dorothy knew how she was feeling,’ Freya said, matter of factly.

Megan pulled a face at Freya, and nudged her with her elbow. ‘You are funny, Freya,’ said Megan, not really believing a word of what Freya had just said.

‘It’s true,’ said Freya. ‘You wait and see. You can ask Granny later.’

They were just about to finish their picnic when Granny came into the garden. She was tall and willowy and not at all like Megan had imagined. She had expected her to be tiny,
like Freya and her mum. She seemed floaty somehow, her shoulder-length white hair floating like a cloud around her face. She also had Freya’s tiny nose and a lovely big smile.

‘Have you tried my shortbread?’ she asked Megan.

‘Yes,’ said Megan, nodding.

‘And what did you think?’ Granny asked.

‘It’s lovely and buttery,’ said Megan.

‘It’s my special recipe,’ Granny whispered. Then she did something funny. She looked around to see if anyone was listening, just like Freya had.

‘There’s a secret ingredient,’ she said to Megan. ‘Can you guess what it is?’

Megan had no idea.

‘Lemon,’ Granny whispered. ‘But, shhh! Keep it in the box,’ she said, winking at Freya.

‘Granny,’ Freya said quietly. ‘Can we go somewhere to talk? You know, about the mice and Dorothy and Buttercup.’

‘Yes, of course we can,’ said Granny. ‘Let’s go and sit on the bench at the bottom of the garden.’

As they sat down on the bench, Granny bent her head towards them and said quietly, ‘Now then, girls, what would you like to know?’

‘Can you tell Megan some things about Dorothy?’ asked Freya.

‘What like?’ asked Granny.

‘Well, I don’t understand how she can be so old,’ said Megan.

‘I know what you mean,’ said Granny. ‘But, as far as I can remember, she was always around.’