Molly Moon & the Monster Music

For Jennie.

Life is very special whenever you are around.

I couldn't have asked for a better mum.

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-one

Twenty-two

Twenty-three

Twenty-four

Twenty-five

Twenty-six

Twenty-seven

Twenty-eight

Twenty-nine

Thirty

Thirty-one

Thirty-two

Thirty-three

Thirty-four

Thirty-five

Thirty-six

Thirty-seven

Thirty-eight

Thirty-nine

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Back Ad

Other Books

Copyright

About the Publisher

M
olly Moon sat alone at a teak table on a hotel balcony. A cream stone church stood on the opposite side of the square. Grand old whitewashed buildings flanked the other two sides. Trees, flowerbeds, and a fountain decorated the paved open spaces between.

On a tray in front of Molly was her breakfast, her favorite food—tomato-ketchup sandwiches on white bread—and a pot of tea. And on her lap lay a spiral-bound notepad.

Molly sucked her pen, not realizing that its ink was dyeing her lips and mouth blue. She had lived an extraordinary life and so had decided to write about it.

Molly paused and sucked her pen again. Then she clipped it on to her pad and took a bite of her ketchup sandwich. When she took it away from her mouth, she noticed that the bread was blue.

“Urgh! Look, Petula! Weird bread!”

Petula had just trotted out of Molly's bedroom. The pug scratched herself behind her collar and looked up. Cocking her head, she gave a little whine, but of course Molly couldn't understand her.

“Is Micky up?” Molly asked. Micky often slept in later than Molly.

Petula scratched her chin. Molly looked over what she had written. Her life looked fantastic on paper. Hypnotizing, stopping time, time travel, morphing, mind reading. But no doubt Lucy and Primo (her “new” parents) would make her, Rocky, Ojas, and Micky have regular school lessons when she got home. There would be no encouragement for her to use her special talents. In fact, Rocky and Ojas had probably started work already. Molly remembered that Lucy had promised she'd call today with
details of Molly and Micky's flight back home from Ecuador.

“Petula, you're so lucky.” She rubbed the glossy black fur on Petula's neck. “I mean, it might be nice to have parents who care, but mine are so . . . so controlling.”

Yes, there definitely was a downside to having parents. They were bossy. Molly knew that that was the deal kids got, but she still resented it. Molly, Micky, Rocky, and Ojas weren't like normal kids—Micky had grown up in the future, Ojas was from the past, and she had her weird and wonderful skills. Even Rocky was reasonably good at hypnotizing people using just his voice. They were definitely different.

Fueled by this sense of injustice, Molly decided to morph. She looked around for a creature to morph into. Petula looked up.

“Don't worry, Petula, I'm not going to morph into you.” Molly laughed. Petula cocked her head questioningly. “You're worried I won't be able to get back to myself, aren't you? Well, don't be. It's like riding a bike. Once you learn, you never forget.”

With that, Molly began to focus her mind. Petula watched. She could tell Molly was up to something because of the look of concentration on her face.
And then there was a
BOOM
and Molly disappeared, leaving nothing but a pile of clothes.

Petula looked about.

A bird on a telephone wire strung high across the square flew toward her and landed on the balcony where it began flapping its wings. Petula brushed the air with her paw to show that she knew the bird was Molly and then she barked. The bird took off, swooped and dived above the square, then landed back on the balcony again. A minute later Molly suddenly materialized in different clothes, black jeans and a red T-shirt, while the bird sat on the balcony rail recovering from the shock of having its body and mind taken over.

“That was a cinch!” Molly beamed at Petula. “Flying is so cool. Maybe, Petula, in England, when the tutor arrives, I can just morph into any animal or insect that's nearby. I mean, they can't stop me doing that, can they? They can't make me do schoolwork.” A worried look crossed Molly's face. “Actually I suppose they can.”

Petula watched. A bitter smell caught her attention. It was coming from Molly's bag. It was a horrid smell, like rotten lemons with a touch of electricity that made her nose tingle. Petula wondered what was causing it. Then she was distracted as Micky
plodded out of his room.

Molly's twin brother was still half asleep, his skinny frame clad in baggy pajamas. His brown curly hair, a bit shorter than Molly's, was stuck to one side of his head and his cheek bore indentations from his pillow.

“Feels like a hippo slept on me,” he mumbled. “What time is it?”

“It's about nine thirty. You were up late last night.”

“I know. That for me?” He lifted a silver dome off a plate of scrambled eggs and tomatoes. “Nice. Yes. I was up with ‘ze boyz.'”

“What boys?”

“The three Japanese boys.” Micky sat down. “The ones staying here. They're in a band. They're playing tonight. Want to see them? They're superstars in Japan. Oh, I forgot—we'll probably be on a plane by then. Has Lucy rung yet?”

Molly shrugged. “No. Should do soon.”

“Did you pick up the passports from the concierge lady?”

“Yup.” Molly poured herself a cup of tea and took a gulp. She reached for a canvas bag under her chair and felt inside it for a pouch where she kept special things.
She dropped the pouch on the table and unzipped it.

“Yours, mine,” she said, dealing the two passports. Then she flipped them both open and compared pictures. “You look sweet! Like a little scarecrow boy!”

Micky nodded resignedly.

Next Molly tipped a very large gold coin out of the pouch. It had a raised musical note embossed on one side and its edges were crosshatched. She took another sip of her tea and picked up the coin. It had belonged to a horrible, cruel woman whom Molly and Micky had recently had the misfortune to meet. Luckily they wouldn't be seeing her again. But Molly wouldn't forget her.

The woman's name was Miss Hunroe. She'd had a penchant for beautiful objects and had many collections of wonderful things, from great works of art to remarkable pieces of furniture and valuable instruments. This coin had been one of her favorite things, something Miss Hunroe had carried with her always. Just before she disappeared, she had dropped it and Molly had found it. So it now belonged to Molly. She turned it over in her hand. It was heavy. Solid gold.

“I
love
this coin,” she said. “Why does
gold seem so nice?”

Molly tried to roll the coin along her fingers as she had seen Miss Hunroe do.

“Makes you feel safe and secure,” said Micky, through a mouthful of eggs. “You know that if you ever needed to, you could melt a bit of that coin and buy food. It's magic stuff, gold. Even if there were mountains made of it and even if there was so much of it that buildings could be covered in it, I'd still think it was magic.”

“I'm not melting it down,” said Molly, running her finger around the grooved edge of the coin. “This is extra special. It makes me feel good. Powerful.”

Micky laughed.

“No, it does!” said Molly, stroking the coin's embossed note. “No wonder Hunroe kept it with her all the time.”

Just then the phone rang. Molly carefully put the coin back in its pouch and walked through the heavy wooden doors to answer it. She threw herself onto the sofa. For some reason she had started to feel rattled. It was because of this, she told herself, that on hearing Rocky's voice she was in a mood.

“Uh, hi. Oh, hi. So, you've rung to tell me when Mr. and Mrs. You'd-Better-Do-This-or-Else want us
to come home?”

Rocky said something.

“Well, I can't be nice, Rocky, because you know, I'm really annoyed. I mean, we don't actually need to come home. I don't want to have lessons from some stupid tutor. Have you ever noticed that the school word ‘term' is the same word that's used for time spent in prison?”

On the other end of the line Rocky said something else. “. . . No, just because they're my blood parents doesn't mean they have a right to control me like some sort of remote-control toy. I should never have wished so much for parents. You and me and Micky and Ojas could easily get by without them.” She paused as Rocky spoke. “I am not ranting,” she replied. “Tomorrow?” Rocky spoke again. “. . . What? . . . I'm not being unreasonable . . . OK, OK, I'll do it . . . Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tickets at the front desk. Gerry at one o'clock. Got it . . . No, I don't need to write it down.” Molly paused. She was in a filthy mood. “I'll see you later.” Molly clunked the phone down.

Micky stood in the doorway. “Never seen you so grumpy.”

Molly snarled at him, “Don't want to go back, that's all. The flight's tomorrow. Also, Gerry arrives
at Quito Airport today. I have to go and pick him up. He's coming back to England with us.”

“I'll go and get him.”

“Don't be stupid, Micky. You don't even know what he looks like.”

Petula came up to Molly and sniffed her. She smelled of burned sticks. Petula knew Molly really well. This smell meant that she was very, very cross. Petula wondered why. Molly had woken up in such a good mood.

“I'm pleased we're going home,” Micky declared. He pulled his bag out to start packing. “It will be really nice to see Ojas and Rocky.”