The Phredde Collection (56 page)

It was lonely in my room all by myself.

‘Just yell if anything happens,’ called Phredde from across the hall.

‘Sure,’ I agreed.

I put on my pyjamas and left my clothes on the floor. Mum hates me doing that, but this was MY house—or it would be in two days’ time.

The bed was really comfortable, but I couldn’t sleep. Maybe I’d had too much turkey, cheesecake, watermelon, raspberry slice, chocolate cake, potato salad, beetroot and stuffed eggs. But I was also thinking…

Why hadn’t Phredde ever told me she’d be leaving school early? Why hadn’t Bruce ever mentioned the school for heroes?

Was it because I was only a human and they thought it wasn’t any of my business? Or that I wouldn’t understand?

It was funny, I’d known Phredde and Bruce for a whole year, and even though Phredde was only 30 centimetres high and Bruce was a frog I’d never really felt we were different before. But now I did. I just lay there getting more and more miserable and further and further from sleep.

You have to start thinking about something else
, I told myself.
Okay, they’re phaeries and I’m human and there’s nothing I can do about it! So just accept it, Prudence, and think about…

About what?

About why the other 56 girls hadn’t stayed in this house for two short measly nights. It was just about the nicest, most comfortable house I’d ever been in, even better than our castle because, to be honest, castles are a bit too big to be comfortable, especially when you have to run half a kilometre from the Very Pink Sitting Room to the kitchen just to get a bucket of bones to feed the piranhas in the moat before you go to school.

It had all been easy so far…much too easy.

There had to be SOME reason why those other girls hadn’t stayed two nights in this house. And sooner or later I was going to find out why…

Maybe the pie we’d eaten for dinner had been made out of the last girl who’d stayed here. And all those wigs in that room downstairs—maybe they’d been made out of the other girls’ hair, just like Bruce had said.

And maybe there really WAS an alien in the attic and it was waiting till I was asleep and couldn’t call Phredde and…Except the house didn’t HAVE an attic, I told myself firmly. And we’d checked all the rooms for
aliens, and anyway, an alien would have had to appear when Phredde PING!ed.

So there was really NOTHING to worry about.

Except I was worried.

I lay there in my bed with the purple-not-pink bedspread and shut my eyes, just in case it helped me to drift off. And maybe I was starting to fall asleep when I heard a noise, a swishing sound…

I was cold too. Shivering cold, in spite of the doona, as though someone had just opened a window and it was icy outside.

I opened my eyes and groped for the lamp beside the bed. For a horrible moment I thought it didn’t work and I’d be stuck here in the dark with a swishing sound getting closer, closer, closer…And then I thought,
don’t be a dope, Prudence, all you have to do is yell and Bruce or Phredde will PING! light all over the house again.
And then my hand met the light switch and I didn’t need to yell for Phredde at all.

The room filled with light…but there was no one there.

It must have been the wind in the trees outside, I thought, switching the light off again. And then I turned it on FAST because I suddenly remembered something.

I’d left my clothes on the floor, hadn’t I? And now they were gone.

I slid out of bed and looked around. Not under the chair, not under the bed. Then for some reason I slid the cupboard drawer open and there they were—my shorts and shirt all neatly folded.

I let out a sigh. I must have put them away automatically after all those years of Mum nagging me. Or maybe I really HAD been asleep and I’d sleepwalked,
or sleep-folded. I was just about to get back into bed again when I realised.

Where were my underpants?

They were my favourite underpants—purple, of course—but not
all
purple, so I hadn’t lied to Bruce. They were green and purple spots, and even if they weren’t a thong they were cut high in the leg. They were about the coolest clothes I owned. Sometimes I wish we wore our underpants outside our other clothes like Superman.

But what sort of kinky person takes underpants? Not Phredde or Bruce, of course. There was no way they’d steal my underpants. And there was no one else in the house.

Or was there?

I sat back on the bed and thought. Maybe a kinky underpants thief had scared all the other inheritors away? A kinky underpants thief who could hang outside a window by their fingernails so they were not
inside
the house and so Phredde’s PING! didn’t affect them!

I REALLY didn’t feel like sleeping now. Maybe I should wake Phredde, I thought. Maybe the underpants thief was after her underpants too!

I tiptoed over to the door (don’t ask me why I tiptoed—it just feels right to tiptoe in the middle of the night) then into the corridor. I knocked on Phredde’s door softly. ‘Hey, Phredde! Are you awake?’

‘Mmm?’ said Phredde’s voice sleepily.

I opened the door and slipped inside, then switched the light on. Phredde sat up, blinking. Her wings were all crinkled from being slept on. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I just came in to see if your underpants were all right,’ I said.

‘My what?’ yelled Phredde.

‘Shh,’ I said. ‘You’ll wake Bruce.’

‘Did you say you wanted to see if my underpants were all right?’

I nodded.

‘Tell me I’m dreaming,’ said Phredde.

‘Well, where are they?’ I demanded, looking around.

Phredde shook her head. ‘I PING! up fresh underpants every day. It saves Mum washing them. Then I just PING! them away at bedtime. Hey, what’s all this about underpants?’

I bit my lip. ‘Bruce doesn’t wear underpants, does he?’

‘Well, duh,’ said Phredde. ‘Have you ever seen a frog in underpants? Look, what’s this about?’

‘Someone has stolen my underpants,’ I said. ‘They were there on the floor when I went to bed. But they’re not there now.’

‘Have you looked under the bed?’ asked Phredde.

‘Yes! I looked everywhere! But they’ve gone!’

‘Well, they’ll turn up,’ said Phredde sleepily. ‘I can PING! you some more if you like.’

‘I’ve got fresh ones in my bag. I just wondered,’ I began. But Phredde was settling down to sleep again. ‘See you in the morning,’ I said instead.

‘Night, Pru,’ said Phredde vaguely, her eyes already closed.

I tiptoed back to my room.

My room looked exactly as I’d left it. Purple bedspread. Clothes in drawers (I pulled them out), just to check. Still no underpants…

Suddenly I thought of something. I pulled open my pack and checked in there. My clean underpants were missing too! They were my extra-special underpants as well, with piranhas on them. My brother Mark had given them to me for my birthday. (Even if he is a werewolf—
and
a big brother—he can be pretty nice sometimes.) I’d kept those underpants for a special occasion, like a sleep-over in a deserted mansion, because that’s the sort of time you might accidentally NEED hot-looking underpants. And now they were gone!

I wasn’t going in to wake Phredde again, just to tell her my other underpants were gone too. And they WERE only underpants.

No big deal, right?

I lay down again and tried to relax. Maybe Phredde was right, maybe they
would
just turn up. Like that time I lost my maths homework and accused Mark of eating it and Mum of tidying it up and Dad of just not caring when my life was ruined and I could never go to school again, and then it turned up, just like that, under my schoolbag where I’d looked a hundred times. Or thought I had.

It was just the whole situation spooking me out, I thought sleepily. If no one had ever told me 56 other girls had been scared away, I’d have been asleep HOURS ago. And I’d never even have THOUGHT about looking for my underpants in the middle of the night. Night is a great time for worrying about silly stuff. Things ALWAYS look better in the morning.

I switched off the light again and shut my eyes. Sleep, that’s what I needed. Lots and lots of sleep, then in the morning I’d find my underpants and…

Whisper. Whisper. Creak. Creak. Creak. And COLD, like someone had slipped ice blocks under my bed.

I opened my eyes again, just as something touched me faintly on my cheek.

‘Phredde!’ I shrieked, leaping out of bed. I tried to turn the lamp on but knocked it over. ‘Phredde!!! Bruce!!!!!! Help!!!!’

PING!

Phredde appeared, hovering like a pyjama-wearing wasp right in front of me, just as Bruce leaped through the door.

‘What is it?’ yelled Phredde.

‘Don’t worry, Pru, I’ll save you!’ shouted Bruce. He looked around. ‘Er…from what?’ he said. And then he stared.

Phredde was staring at me too.

‘What’s wrong?’ I asked. ‘Why are you staring at me like that?’

‘Wow,’ said Bruce softly.

‘I think you’d better look in the mirror,’ said Phredde.

I turned towards the mirror then I stared too.

I looked WONDERFUL!

Instead of short brown hair I suddenly had blonde curls, all the way down my back! I blinked at my reflection, then touched my hair uncertainly. Yep, it was really there.

‘How did you do THAT?’ asked Phredde admiringly.

‘I…I didn’t,’ I said. ‘Hey, did YOU do it?’

Phredde shook her head.

‘How about you?’ I asked Bruce.

‘Nope,’ he said. ‘It’s really cool though.’

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I think.’

First my underpants, then my hair.

‘There’s something strange going on here,’ I said.

‘Well, maybe,’ said Phredde. ‘But it’s not exactly dangerous, is it?’ She looked at me critically. ‘You should have gone blonde ages ago,’ she added.

‘Mum’ll go bananas,’ I said. ‘She wouldn’t even let me put a purple streak in my hair. You’ll have to PING! me back to normal before I go home.’

Phredde grinned. ‘I’ll PING! a “no see” spell instead. You’ll stay blonde but your mum’ll see short brown hair.’

‘Yeah,’ said Bruce enthusiastically. He looked around. ‘Are you sure I can’t rescue you from something?’

Boys! ‘No, thanks,’ I said politely. ‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you both.’

‘No worries,’ said Phredde. ‘See you in the morning.’

PING!

Suddenly both of them had gone.

Underpants…hair…underpants…hair…I picked the lamp off the floor, put it back on the bedside table and lay down again. But my mind was buzzing.

Maybe…maybe all the strange things that had happened had something in common. My suddenly hot hair and my purple-instead-of-pink bedspread. My clothes put away when I was sure I’d left them on the floor. And the food suddenly on the table in the dining room…

All NICE things, I thought. All things I’d wanted—except for my missing underpants of course. But maybe…

Suddenly I had an idea. I grinned to myself.

I reached over and switched the light off then. I made myself breathe slowly and quietly for thirty seconds. Then I said softly, like I was speaking to myself, ‘Blonde hair is lovely. But I really, really wish I could have green streaks too. Green streaks would be just so hot.’

And then I waited.

One breath…

Two breaths…

Whisper, whisper…creak…COLD…

This time I didn’t wait for a touch on my cheek. I just switched the light on fast!

‘Got you!’ I yelled.

And then I stared. ‘Who on earth are you?’ I whispered.

The creature blinked.

‘Don’t you dare vanish,’ I warned him. ‘I’ve seen you now! Who are you?’

The creature gulped. ‘I’m…I’m Jack the Clipper,’ he said.

‘What!’ I yelled.

‘Shh!’ The creature flapped his hands at me. He was dressed all in black—black jeans, black jacket—and his head was shaved close to his scalp, with the fuzz that was left dyed in black and white stripes. ‘Don’t make so much noise!’

‘I’ll yell if I want to! Any girl would yell if she found Jack the Ripper in her bedroom!’

‘I’m not Jack the Ripper, sweetie! I’m Jack the Clipper. And PLEASE be quiet,’ he said. ‘I’ll do anything you like if only you’ll speak more softly! Green streaks? Purple highlights? A body wave?’

‘Pru!’ Phredde zoomed in like a wasp with a jet engine. ‘Are you okay?’

‘What is it?’ shouted Bruce, leaping through the doorway.

‘Look!’ I yelled, pointing at Jack the Clipper.

‘Look at what?’ asked Phredde.

‘At that!’ I shouted.

‘There’s nothing there,’ said Bruce. ‘You must have been dreaming.’

I gazed at Jack the Clipper, then at Phredde and Bruce, then at Jack again. Why couldn’t they see him?

Maybe…maybe…this was something I had to sort out by myself. This was my mansion, after all.

‘Maybe I WAS dreaming,’ I said slowly. ‘Er…sorry to disturb you.’

‘No worries,’ said Phredde. ‘Night, Pru. Again,’ she added as she fluttered out.

‘Yeah, night.’ I said hastily. I waited till the door was shut behind them. ‘Now,’ I said to Jack the Clipper, ‘what’s all this about? How come they can’t see you? Come to think of it,’ I added, ‘you don’t look like Jack the Ripper.’

‘Of course not. I told you—I’m Jack the Clipper. I’m a hairdresser, not a mass murderer!’

‘You might be a hairdresser
and
a mass murderer,’ I pointed out.

‘I might be. But I’m not. Really, I’m not. I’m just an ordinary hairdresser. Well, and a ghost,’ he added.

I gulped. ‘D-did you say ghost?’

‘Yes.’ He looked at me anxiously. ‘You’re not going to yell again are you?’

‘I don’t THINK so,’ I said. ‘It depends what happens next. But why can’t Phredde and Bruce see you?’

Jack sighed. ‘I bet they don’t believe in ghosts.’

‘Well, no, they don’t,’ I told him.

‘People who don’t believe in ghosts don’t see us. You’ve no idea how boring it is being a ghost,’ he added. ‘Hardly anyone believes in ghosts nowadays.’ He covered his face with his hands suddenly. ‘You’ve no
idea what it’s like, girlfriend! Nothing to do, no hair to cut, not even a permanent wave in YEARS! All I ever wanted was to be a hairdresser!’ he sobbed.

This was getting really embarrassing, even if he was a ghost. ‘Look, pull yourself together,’ I said (his legs were drifting towards the bathroom). Jack looked up, sniffed, and hauled his legs back where they belonged.

It was time I got some answers.

‘Hey,’ I said. ‘Did you take my underpants?’

‘Me?’ Jack the Clipper looked affronted. ‘Do I look kinky to you, sweetheart?’

‘No,’ I admitted. ‘Just a bit see-through. But if you didn’t take my underpants, who did?’

‘She’s done it again, hasn’t she?’ Jack said, his hands on his hips. ‘Honestly! There’s just no stopping her!’ He looked around. ‘Annie!’ he called softly.

‘Who’s Annie?’ I demanded.

‘Underpants Annie,’ Jack said, as though that explained everything. ‘Ah, here she is…’

Another cold draught wafted across the room. Something began to appear over by the mirror. It looked like smoke at first, then slowly grew thicker and thicker, till I realised it wasn’t smoke at all, just a long white dress. Not a nightdress, more like a dress from the really olden days.

‘Hello,’ said a voice softly.

Jack the Clipper sighed. ‘Haven’t you forgotten something, lovey?’

‘Oops,’ said the voice. ‘Lost my head for a moment there…’

Suddenly there was a face AND a head with a really cool spiky haircut, all green and purple stripes.
Underpants Annie grinned and ran her hand through the spikes. ‘Like it?’ she asked. ‘Jack did it last week for me. Much easier than ringlets.’

‘You took my underpants?’

Annie nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist! I’m a seamstress—I
love
making clothes. But I died before underpants were invented and they’re just so FASCINATING! Every pair is different. I just HAVE to study them! But I’ll put yours back, I promise. With lace, this time. And ruffles! You would like some lace and ruffles, wouldn’t you?’ she pleaded. ‘It’s been so long since I had anyone to sew for.’

‘You just feel so useless, being a ghost,’ said Jack the Clipper wistfully. ‘And when I saw your lovely boring hair, I just couldn’t resist doing something stunning to it. You do like it, don’t you, sweetie?’

‘Um, yes, I think so,’ I said. Suddenly I started to shake. Well, they WERE ghosts, even if they were friendly ghosts.

‘Are you cold?’ asked Annie sympathetically. ‘There are more blankets in the cupboard if you like.’

‘Or I could get you a heater,’ offered Jack the Clipper. ‘Anything you need…anything at all!’

‘Look, I’m fine. But I—’

Jack looked relieved. ‘Really? Look, girlfriend, we have to go! We really shouldn’t be here. Not on your first night! Could you just pretend you haven’t seen us? Please?’

‘Well, I—’

‘Thank you!’ cried Annie softly, as she began to fade away. ‘We promised your uncle we wouldn’t scare you away. It’s so important that you can be happy here! But
when Jack saw your hair—and I saw your underpants—we just couldn’t resist.’

‘Hey, come back here!’ I cried. ‘I want to know what’s going on!’

But they were gone.