The Story Traveller (4 page)

Twinkle smiled to herself.

‘Brutish and Crapulous are so predictable,' she said. She put her hand in her basket and brought out a fly. Well, it looked like a fly and it would taste like a fly, but Twinkle would never submit one of her winged friends to such a ghastly end. Her fly was a home made and home baked fly! Carefully Twinkle placed the tasty morsel on the web. The movement sent urgent signals to the two hungry monsters.

They knew they shouldn't leave their posts, but they were both very hungry and anyway, if the story traveller appeared, their web was primed and ready. So they both scurried over to the delicious treat and ate up every scrap. Within seconds, as they wiped their bladed feet clean, they fell fast asleep, thanks to the secret ingredient added by Twinkle – a sleeping potion.

As soon as Twinkle saw it was safe she took Wandela, her gnarled walking stick, and cut a big hole in the web. She then carefully draped the pieces of broken web over the sleeping duo.

‘Hoist by your own petard, my bonny pair! You'll both have a lovely headache when you wake up!' Twinkle laughed and lifted Wandela into the air. Instantly, it turned into a beautiful star. That was all the signal Speed needed. He flew quickly through The End gate. Lucy just had time to blow a kiss, which had a definite strawberry flavour, and Twinkle sent one back, in the shape of a shooting star.

When the white cliffs of Dover came into sight, Lucy knew she was not far from home. And from the amount of lights that shone she guessed she was back in her own time.

‘Thank you darling Speed!' Lucy said. But before Speed's hooves could touch the sand, she was fast asleep.

Lucy woke early, which was unusual. Normally, on a school day, she had to be shaken out of sleep by her mother because, since the bullying began, she'd found it difficult to get to sleep. But this morning she woke with the feeling something good had happened. Then she remembered.

‘Of course! I'm a story traveller!' Immediately, she glanced round the room for her cloak (the cloak that Twinkle had said she must always keep safe) and, when all she saw was her uniform, neatly folded on the chair, her happiness crumbled.

‘Oh no! It was just a dream. I can't believe it! Everything was so real.' The disappointed girl threw herself face down and tried not to cry. For a while she lay there and then frustration got the better of her and she threw her pillow across the room.

‘Oh cool!' Lucy couldn't believe her eyes. There, previously hidden by the pillow, was her cloak, except it was minute. It was so small it would easily have fitted one of Sophie's Barbie dolls. Lucy gently picked it up and examined it closely. It was the right colour, there were the neat little pockets and the minute buttons; it definitely appeared to be her cloak. But why was it so tiny? Lucy really was puzzled. It was exactly like her cloak, except for the size. Then her eyes caught sight of the book she'd been reading to her little sister the previous night.

‘Of course!' she thought. ‘In Storyland people are much smaller. I just adapted to their size!' Happiness flooded back, as Lucy remembered all the exciting and dangerous adventures she'd gone through on her travels.

For the first time in her life, Lucy felt really special, because now there was something extraordinary about her. She jumped out of bed and ran to the mirror to see if she looked any different.

‘No – I look just the same, just happier,' she though as she studied her reflection. ‘My hair's still mousey and straight, my eyes are still brown.' Lucy then picked up her glasses and put them on to have a second look. ‘I didn't need glasses in Storyland. I wish I didn't need them here; they make me look like a scared owl. Yes, they do make me look rather timid. Perhaps that's why I'm being bullied.' Lucy stamped her bare feet on the carpet. ‘But I'm not timid and I'm not scared, after all I
am
a story traveller. I
am
special.'

It was all so wonderful, Lucy wished she could share her excitement with someone, but the voice of Twinkle was clear in her head:

‘Rule number one: you must tell no one, and I mean no one, that you are a story traveller.'

‘Who could I tell anyway?' Lucy thought. ‘I certainly couldn't tell my parents. They'd laugh at me and tell me to act my age. I could share my secret with Sophie. At six she would believe me, but she'd never be able to keep it a secret and would pester me to take her along.

‘And if I told my friends I talked to Prince Charming last night, they would think me crackers. ‘Prince Charming?' I can hear them say. ‘At your age? Now if it was Harry Potter or Alex Ryder!' And they'd be right.' Lucy lay back on her bed and contemplated the happy fact that, as a story traveller, she might be able to meet Harry or Alex – both great favourites of hers. ‘Prince Charming was very charming. But a little too fairy tale-ish for me.'

Suddenly, a thought struck Lucy and she leapt out of bed to find a place to hide the cloak; there were so few places where it would be safe, from either her mother's tidying up, or Sophie constant nosiness. Eventually, she decided to put it behind some books. As she lifted the last book back in place, her eyes caught sight of her World Atlas. She pulled it out and went back to bed and began, with great interest, to retrace her journey through France.

‘My, we did zigzag about,' Lucy said out loud.

‘Who zigzagged?' her mother said as she walked in. Luckily, she didn't wait for an answer. ‘Are you quite yourself, sweetheart? I've never seen you awake and reading on a school day before.'

‘Morning, Mum!' Lucy closed the Atlas. ‘I just woke early and thought I'd catch up on some French homework.'

‘Breakfast in fifteen minutes, young lady, so up you get.' For the first time in weeks, Lucy dressed eagerly. For once she had so much to look forward to. Life had suddenly become very exciting.

Finally, Lucy collected her school books together and ran down the stairs, humming to herself. Sophie and her mum both looked up surprised. Lucy wasn't normally that chirpy.

‘Mum?' Lucy looked up from eating her cereal, her spoon poised half way between her bowl and her mouth. ‘How do you get candle wax out of material?' ‘Lucy!' her harassed mother replied. ‘You haven't lit candles in your room again to read by, have you? I've told you how dangerous that is. I know you love reading, but you will ruin your eyesight, not to say burn the house down!'

‘No Mum, honest I haven't. It's just that a friend of mine's dropped some candle wax on her stepmother's dress and is desperate to get it out, or she'll be in serious trouble.'

‘Your friend had best own up and let her stepmother deal with it. Why you young girls have to be so secretive, I'll never know.' Suddenly, a thought struck her. ‘I didn't know any of your friends had a stepmother.' Mrs. Chase got up, wiped her younger daughter's hands and then carried on filling their lunch boxes, at the same time mentally ticking off all the chores to be done before she could get the girls to school.

‘You don't know her, Mum. Her name is Cin…She is called Cindy and she doesn't have a mum, but a rather strict stepmother, plus two awful stepsisters, who aren't very nice to her. So what shall I tell her?'

‘Tell who?'

‘Cindy! I really need to let her know how to get the candle wax out.'

‘Oh well,' Mrs Chase deftly closed the lunch boxes. ‘Tell her to use a warm iron and put a piece of absorbent paper on top of the wax and iron gently over it.'

‘What if she hasn't got an iron?' Lucy asked.

‘Don't be so silly, Lucy!' her mum snapped. ‘Everyone has an iron.'

Lucy wasn't so sure. She knew there was no electricity at Cinders', but she hoped there was something similar to an iron, or the Countess would bully her mercilessly and Lucy knew what that felt like. Bullying: for the second time that day Lucy's thoughts went to the bullying she knew she could expect, when she got to school. Normally, it was her first thought after she woke, and her constant thought all the way there. Then she remembered Twinkle's words and though her stomach churned with nerves, she found the memory of her exciting new life gave her some courage. She was determined to take Twinkle's advice.

On the way to school Mrs. Chase reminded Lucy her father would be home that evening. Soon, it was time for a goodbye kiss and a final wave, and then Mrs. Chase drove off to Sophie's school, where she worked as a classroom assistant.

Lucy only had a short walk to the school gates, but she knew what to expect. There waiting for her, just yards from school, was her regular ‘welcoming' committee: Anna and her two side kicks, Diane and Martha. They were all in the same class as Lucy and had plagued her life almost from day one. The leader and main bully was Anna, a tall good-looking girl. She had thick ash-blonde hair and the most beautiful green eyes. With her tall, slender figure, she could easily have been a model. Lucy just couldn't understand why she would even notice her, let alone be so nasty. Those eyes were certainly amazing, but when they glared at Lucy they became like flint: cold and cruel.

Diane was also a tall girl, though big boned and a little ungainly. With her untidy black hair and bitten nails she could often look rather scruffy. She'd none of Anna's graceful movements, but she excelled on the sports field; because her powerful frame gave her a good advantage over her smaller opponents. However, in the classroom she struggled and relied heavily on her two friends to get her through the day.

Besides these two tall girls, Martha seemed almost a shadow. She'd a pale skin with almost white hair and eyelashes, which gave her face a hunted look. She never seemed able to look anyone in the eyes and although she did as she was told by Anna, and joined in the baiting of Lucy, she always looked stressed. Her slight body was never still, which gave the impression she was a bundle of nerves.

As Lucy made her way towards them, she wondered why Anna hated her so much. She'd never, as far as she knew, done anything to upset the taller girl, who shone in the classroom and on the playing fields. As Lucy got closer she could hear the name calling: ‘Four eyes, stupid!' being among the least hurtful, but she straightened her back, held her head up high and smiled a big wide smile as she thought of Twinkle. The butterflies chased round her stomach, but her smile stayed put and she had the satisfaction of seeing the three girls taken aback by her new found confidence. Lucy continued to smile as she passed them, and then, seeing her friend Peter, her smile became genuine as she ran over and joined him, more than pleased with her success.

Lucy and her family had only moved into the area a short while ago, when her father was transferred by his company, so she hadn't had time to make many friends. Peter had started school on the same day. They were like chalk and cheese, but being the newcomers had given them a common bond.

Peter was extremely tall; in fact he was the tallest boy in his year. He was also a bit of a loner. Though he was so big and strong he wasn't into team sports, but was talented in the martial arts. He had a no-nonsense, practical manner. Short on words, he was nearly always to be found with his head burrowed in a book. Though he was brief when he spoke, he liked to use long and difficult words, which often made Lucy laugh. But she was grateful for his friendship, even if it usually just meant sitting side by side, reading. He was not big on sympathy, but he was kind, and Lucy always felt safe when he was around.

There was one other friend Lucy had managed to make since she joined her new school: Frances, who was a timid child, very small for her age, and like Lucy, had been bullied, and so could sympathise with, if not support, her new friend.

Unfortunately, Anna soon got over her surprise, and steadily went about making Lucy feel miserable. She and her two friends stood in a huddle in the playground and whispered as they pointed at her. They'd then break into loud laughter. At one point, they even cornered Frances. She looked so tiny and fragile between Anna and Diane. Even Martha, thin, pale and far from tall, looked huge next to the nervous Frances. Lucy could guess what they had to say. She and Frances normally met up in the playground for a chat, but not today. There was no way poor Frances could stand up to them and, with tears in her eyes, she moved to the other end of the playground. But Lucy didn't blame her. She knew the last thing Frances needed was to be bullied again.

During lunch break Lucy tried to talk to Peter about Anna but he wasn't into deep reflective thought.

‘Supercilious
¹
madam – forget her.'

But Lucy couldn't. She remembered Cinderella had said she felt sorry for her stepsisters, because they hadn't really been loved. Lucy wondered what it was that made such a bright attractive girl feel so insecure, that she had to be so unpleasant.

In class, both Lucy and Anna did well. Anna was far better at languages, while Lucy was just ahead in maths. They could have been friendly rivals. It puzzled Lucy. She could cope with Anna ignoring her, but to set out to make her life miserable; there had to be a reason. Later that afternoon they had a French lesson. Mme Lessens asked if any of the class had been to France during the holidays. About half put up their hands. She then got these pupils to talk for a few minutes about their trip, while the others could ask questions. Anna spoke fluently about a visit to Paris and the Palace of Versailles. Her accent was excellent, as she and her English mother and Russian father travelled widely, and had lived in France for a while. Eventually it was Lucy's time to contribute. At once she was back with Speed, as she dipped into her memory. Should she talk about Nîmes, Saintes or Rheims? Suddenly, she found herself describing the Triumphal Arch of Germanicus and the bridge near Blois. To her amazement her French came quite easily and almost fluently. When she'd finished, Mme Lessens gave her a very old fashioned look.

‘Lucy, what an improvement in your accent, though some of the words you used are a little archaic. Well done!' Lucy went pink with pleasure, while Anna glowered and bit her lip in anger.

‘Just one small point: you described the Triumphal Arch well, but there's no longer a bridge. The Arch was moved many years ago and the bridge was demolished in the 19
^th
Century. You appear to have used your imagination somewhat. But none the less that was a first class effort. Keep it up.'

One look at Anna's face and Lucy knew she would pay for her progress on the way home. Lucy had to catch the local bus after school, as her mother and sister finished well before her. Unfortunately, while Peter and Frances went one way, she had to share a part of the journey with Anna, Diane and Martha. It was never pleasant and she felt sure today would be even worse than usual. School over, with her head still held high, Lucy moved towards the bus stop. As she got nearer she could hear Diane's gruff voice and her heart sank, as she caught the gist of what she was saying. With every ounce of courage she possessed, Lucy covered the last dozen steps, as curious eyes stared intently at her; some showed open hostility.

‘Don't attempt any of your tricks here,' one boy said. ‘We'll know who to report if anything goes missing – you tea leaf!'

‘How could they?' Lucy thought. ‘How could Anna and the others accuse her of stealing?' She was stunned, and in her horror, she turned and looked at her three accusers. Anna just stared back; she didn't even blink. Diane stared directly at her for a few seconds, and then let her gaze travel slowly from head to toe; at the same time a sneer spread across her face. Martha, however, just turned away, her hands fluttered restlessly, while her face, for once, turned pink.