She crept back out and peered into the living-room area, where the fairies remained. Taking a deep breath, she whispered, ‘Wake up!’ before tiptoeing back to her bed and climbing in, fully clothed. There she lay, heart pounding. Their low voices carried from nearby, drowsy and confused. Her eyelids twitched. They were coming closer. She squeezed her eyes shut.
The bedroom door opened and, though she did not hear them enter, she felt it. Smelled it; the earthy, outdoorsy, leaf-mulch smell that always accompanied them.
‘But I’m sure we came here for a reason,’ Feathercap was complaining. He stifled a yawn. ‘Why are we dressed like this anyway?’
‘I can’t remember,’ said Raven, sounding equally puzzled.
‘Something’s gone on here,’ said Gredin. He sounded the most alert. ‘Some sort of hoodwinkery. Something’s foxed us.’
‘Maybe we just came to check on her,’ said Raven.
‘Maybe,’ said Gredin, still suspicious. ‘In any case, she seems to be behaving . . . for now.’
Feathercap snorted. ‘I don’t suppose it’ll be long before she’s meddling again, trying to poke her nose into things that don’t concern her.’
‘I don’t suppose it will,’ said Gredin. ‘But when she does we’ll be watching.’
For a long time after they left Tanya lay unmoving, wanting to make sure they really were gone. When the earthy smell no longer lingered and her eyes finally stopped twitching, she opened them, reaching down in the darkness for Oberon’s soft, brown head. Above her, moonlight streamed in through the gap in the curtains, playing across the ceiling. Sleep tugged at her, but she resisted, wanting to lie there in the quiet and dark, lost in her memories of the time she’d had with Ratty and Turpin.
For by morning, she knew, they would be gone.
‘What is this place?’ her mother grumbled the next morning, swatting midges out of her way as Oberon ran ahead, snuffling in the long grass.
‘You’ll see in a minute,’ said Tanya. ‘It’s my favourite thing about Spinney Wicket.’
‘Better than the pier?’ Mrs Fairchild asked in surprise. ‘Or the castle?’
‘Much better,’ said Tanya. ‘It’s completely magical.’
‘Aren’t I a bit too old to believe in magic?’
‘No one’s too old for that,’ Tanya teased. ‘Not even you!’ She dodged out of the way as her mother aimed a good-natured swipe at her, and they continued trampling along the wooded path, until finally the tree shimmered before them.
‘Here it is,’ said Tanya, marvelling at the rainbow flashes of light bouncing off the bottles. ‘The Wishing Tree.’
Her mother stood before it, a look of admiration on her face. ‘Well, it’s very pretty,’ she said. ‘A real grand old thing. I suppose we could make a wish, just for fun.’
The tree opened its eyes, beaming at the compliment. ‘Very pretty, very grand,’ it said. ‘The finest tree in all the land!’ It looked at Tanya critically. ‘Your wish is made, my work is done. Don’t ask for another one.’
Tanya frowned. She had the nagging feeling that she
had
made a wish, only she couldn’t recall what it was. Yet somehow it was all right.
‘Just you, Mum,’ she said. ‘I’ve already made my wish.’
Her mother went quiet for a moment. ‘And would that wish have anything to do with your father and I getting back together?’ Her voice was gentle. ‘Because things don’t work that way, love—’
‘I know,’ Tanya interrupted. ‘I know that now. And you’re right, I almost did wish for Dad to come back. But I knew it wouldn’t change anything, and that things would still be the same. And I want you to be happy. I want us all to be happy. So I wished for something else.’
Her mother gave a wry smile. ‘So, what do I have to do?’
Tanya took out the green glass bottle she had been saving for her own wish and handed it to her mother. ‘You write it down and then hang it up. Or you can say it aloud, it’s up to you.’
‘I’ll write it down,’ said Mrs Fairchild, taking the bottle. ‘It doesn’t feel right to wish aloud. It might spoil the magic.’
The tree cleared its throat importantly, then did a little set of voice warm-ups. ‘One wish, what’ll it be?’ it announced. ‘For you have found the Wishing Tree!’
Of course, this went unheard by Mrs Fairchild, but the tree didn’t seem to mind.
‘
One wish only, understood?
There are rules, so listen good.
Wish for more wishes – that’s a no.
Away with nothing you will go!
No one killed or back from the dead,
And what you’ve wished can’t be unsaid.
No changing the past, no future revealed.
Some things must remain concealed.
No exchange, no guarantees,
So make your choice responsibly.
Every wish comes at a price,
Whether it’s nasty or it’s nice.
So what’ll it be? Tea with the Queen?
Wings for a day? Pay back someone mean?
Become stinking rich, win your true love’s heart?
Grow taller, run faster, become super smart?
Talk to your dog or turn into a cat?
Eat chocolate all day and never get fat?
Find something lost, have beauty or youth?
Wish for a liar to tell the truth!
Walk on the moon, achieve instant fame?
One wish and the world could know your name.
Be sure to use your common sense,
Each wish comes with a consequence.
For wings are tricky to explain.
Fame means no peace for you again.
Riches come, but at what cost?
While magical love is easily lost.
And it’s all very well scoffing chocolate all day,
Being skinny’s no good if your teeth rot away!
So take your time and use your head.
There’s nothing you’d rather wish instead?
Now speak it loud and speak it clear
Or write it down and hang it here.
Don’t use rags or glass of red,
Choose something else, like green, instead.
Then like a little seedling planted
Your wish shall surely soon be granted.
’
The tree stopped, slightly out of breath. It winked at Tanya.
Tanya winked back. ‘Go on, Mum,’ she said. ‘Make a wish!’