Four Children and It Read online

  ‘Stories are boring,’ said Smash. ‘We want to play bears, don’t we, Maudie?’ She hunched over and growled.

  Maudie jumped, startled. She’d usually have clapped her hands and giggled, but perhaps she was tired from her unexpected disappearing act last night. She backed away instead, her bottom lip trembling.

  ‘There! Look, you’re making her cry!’ said Alice. ‘I told you, read her a story.’

  ‘And I told you, no,’ said Smash, turning her back on her.

  Alice looked at me.

  ‘You read to her, Rosalind, while I sort out the washing, there’s a dear,’ she said.

  This was clearly a tricky one – but Maudie looked at me pleadingly, going, ‘Story, story, story!’

  ‘Okay then,’ I said, glancing nervously at Smash.

  Maudie nestled up beside me and I started reading her The Tiger Who Came to Tea. Maudie chuckled and chanted along with the words, knowing most of it by heart.

  ‘There, Smash! You see! Maudie loves being read to. Thank you, Rosalind,’ said Alice.

  Smash chanted the words too, in a niminy-piminy voice, clearly imitating me.

  ‘Smash!’ said Alice warningly.

  ‘I’m reading it, aren’t I? Why is it wrong if I do it, but okay for her? Oh, silly me, I forgot the sainted Rosalind can do no wrong, can she?’ Smash said, sitting down beside Maudie and me.

  I carried on reading self-consciously. Smash went on mumbling, one beat behind me.

  ‘If you don’t stop, Smash, I’ll send you to your room,’ said Alice grimly, stuffing clothes in the washing machine. She looked as if she’d like to stuff Smash in there with them.

  ‘Alice had better watch out. Smash will be wishing her to disappear too,’ Robbie whispered to me.

  Smash had sharp ears.

  ‘You shut up, Tree Boy. I didn’t wish Maudie to disappear,’ she hissed. ‘But don’t tempt me with possibilities. I might just wish you disappear, and your suck-up swotty sister.’

  ‘Look, will you shut up, Smash? Just because you’re feeling guilty about wishing Maudie away you don’t need to take it out on us,’ I said.

  ‘I didn’t wish her away! Stop saying that! It was all a mistake, you stupid little nerd.’

  ‘I’m not the one who’s stupid! I’m not the fool who wishes stuff right in front of the Psammead,’ I said, losing my temper at last.

  ‘Stop it!’ said Smash, giving me a shove.

  ‘You stop it!’ I said.

  ‘Don’t you shove my sister!’ said Robbie.

  Maudie started wailing anxiously.

  ‘Hey, hey, what’s all the racket?’ said Dad, breezing into the kitchen. ‘What are all these grumpy faces? What are we going to do today? Shall we have a day out in London? We could take the train and go and see the sights, and maybe do some shopping?’

  He expected us to whoop enthusiastically. We couldn’t very well explain that we’d been driven all round London in a stretch limo the day before yesterday and we’d been one of the sights.

  ‘It’s very kind of you, Dad,’ I said cautiously. ‘But wouldn’t it cost too much money?’

  ‘That doesn’t matter, not if that’s what you’d like to do,’ said Dad.

  ‘Well, actually, what we’d really like would be to go on another picnic.’ I paused. ‘Locally. In Oxshott woods.’

  ‘No,’ said Dad. ‘Not again.’

  ‘Definitely not,’ said Alice. ‘That place really spooks me. First you three get totally lost – and then poor little Maudie disappears too.’

  ‘Not for very long,’ said Smash.

  ‘And we absolutely promise we wouldn’t get lost this time,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, we totally promise,’ said Smash.

  ‘You bet,’ said Robbie.

  ‘No!’ said Dad. ‘And that’s an end to it.’

  But it wasn’t an end, because Smash picked up Maudie and whispered to her. We already knew Maudie had the potential to be an actress and say her lines on cue.

  ‘Want to go to Ocky woods,’ she said earnestly. ‘Please, Daddy-Pops. Please, Mum-Mum. Want to go to Ocky woods and sandpit and play Monkey. Want Monkey!’

  ‘Monkey?’ said Alice. ‘Why do you always go on about this monkey, darling? There aren’t any monkeys in Oxshott woods. Don’t you mean you want to go to the zoo?’

  ‘Monkey in woods!’ said Maudie.

  ‘It’s a game we play with her. We pretend a monkey lives in the sandpit,’ I said. ‘She loves that monkey game, don’t you, Maudie?’

  ‘We’ve had enough games in that wretched wood,’ said Dad. ‘We’ll take you to the zoo and show you real monkeys, Maudie. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? See the funny monkeys?’ Dad did a terribly embarrassing monkey imitation, capering about, scratching himself. He was clearly trying to make Maudie laugh, but she started crying instead.

  ‘Want my monkey in Ocky woods,’ she sobbed.

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ said Alice. ‘Stop it, David. You look ridiculous and you’re frightening her. All right, Maudie, we’ll take you to the woods.’

  ‘But if you three come you must not wander off and get lost,’ said Dad. ‘You must solemnly swear not to worry us like that again.’

  ‘We swear,’ I said.

  ‘I love swearing,’ said Smash.

  ‘I swear, Dad,’ said Robbie – but he got me on one side later, while we were helping Alice prepare yet another splendid picnic.

  ‘Is it really bad if you break a swear, Ros?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, it is, but it’s all right. We won’t get lost and we won’t worry them, so we’ll be keeping our promise, okay?’

  ‘Aren’t we going to ask the Psammead for a wish then?’

  ‘Yes, of course we are – but I’ve thought of a good way to do it,’ I whispered.

  This time the picnic consisted of pieces of chicken breast with crunchy carrot, almond and tomato salad and big chunks of granary bread, a cherry tart with cream, soft white cheese with black grapes and savoury biscuits, a peach each and little bars of white chocolate. Alice packed a bottle of pink lemonade for us – just like the lemonade in the limo! – and a bottle of rose-pink wine for her and Dad.

  Then we set off for Oxshott woods. Robbie took his zoo monkeys with him. He held a gorilla in one hand and a chimpanzee in the other, and when we got to the woods he helped them climb up ferns and bushes as if they were tall trees in the jungle.

  Robbie looked up at the real trees wistfully several times. Dad looked wistful too, but managed not to say anything. Smash held Maudie’s hand carefully, singing her own song to her, to the ‘Ring a Ring o’ Roses’ tune.

  ‘Going to see the monkey

  Going to see the monkey

  Sandpit! Sandpit!

  We all make a wish!’

  We were so keyed up we ate the picnic as quickly as we could.

  ‘Don’t bolt your food like that! You’ll get chronic indigestion,’ said Dad. He was savouring his own food, but only sipping his wine, and Alice didn’t have any at all. When they’d cleared the picnic things away, they didn’t lie down and doze off in the sunshine. They sat bolt upright, staring at us. Alice kept a firm hold of Maudie, even though she tried to wriggle away.

  ‘What are they doing?’ Smash muttered. ‘Why don’t they cuddle up and go to sleep?’

  ‘They’re keeping an eye on us. But maybe they’ll get tired in a little while,’ I whispered.

  They didn’t seem at all tired, even after another half-hour. Maudie fidgeted and moaned and refused to listen to a story and wouldn’t play Round and Round the Garden with Dad. She kept looking at us and looking at the sandpit, murmuring ‘Monkey!’ in a melancholy fashion. Yet we were in full view of Dad and Alice. If we dug up the Psammead right in front of them, then doubtless Alice would scream her head off and Dad would catch the Psammead and stuff it in the picnic bag and carry it off to London Zoo or wherever …

  I knew what to do when the Psammead surfaced. I just had to stop Dad and Alice