All the children were squealing now. Smash was laughing uproariously. Robbie was clutching me.
‘I think I might be scared of this kind of rat,’ he said.
‘Don’t be scared, Robs. It’s meant to be funny. Just laugh like the others. It’s just his silly story,’ I whispered.
‘Then the girl heard this strange moaning from down in the tunnel,’ said Marvel O’Kaye. ‘She peered through the gloom, rats circling her ankles, scrabbling at her legs, and saw a grotesque creature lumbering along the tracks, almost a man, but covered all over in rat hair, and with a long glistening pink tail trailing behind him. He opened his mouth when he saw the girl, exposing his sharp savage teeth, and then he groaned, “Mind the gap! Stand clear of the d-o-o-r-s!”’
Everyone collapsed into laughter – except Robbie. He had his hands over his ears and was la-la-la-ing feverishly, trying to blot out all other sounds.
‘It’s okay, Robbie. It’s a joke. It wasn’t a really scary monster. He was just saying what those men working in the underground say when you get on a tube,’ I said, prising his hands away and doing my best to reassure him.
It was no use. The deserted Underground station and the rats and the monster man were in Robbie’s head now, and he couldn’t blot them out, no matter how hard he tried.
He’d have been so much happier seeing the puppets with Alice. Maudie was very hyper when we met up with them, singing a bizarre montage of nursery rhymes over and over again.
‘Hey diddle diddle, Jack and Jill went up the hill, Atishoo atishoo, We’ll all have tea!’
‘I think you’ve got your wires crossed there, Maudie,’ said Smash. ‘You’re singing it all wrong. That’s not a proper nursery rhyme.’
‘Yes, it is,’ Maudie insisted, and sang her own version again, louder.
‘That’s it, sing up, darling,’ said Alice. ‘Don’t take any notice of Smash. Your sister couldn’t sing any nursery rhymes when she was your age.’
‘She sings wonderfully now,’ I said.
Alice and Dad looked at me as if I was crazy.
‘Smash doesn’t sing,’ said Alice.
‘You should hear her. She’s brilliant,’ I said. ‘She can make up her own songs. They’re really moving.’
‘Shut up, Ros,’ said Smash, but she squeezed my hand even so.
Later, when we were all having a pizza, she asked me if I really thought she could sing well.
‘Come on! Like you had the entire O2 arena absolutely ecstatic,’ I said.
‘Yes, but that was just the Psammead wish.’
‘I know – but you really got into it. And it was you, after all.’
‘Well … maybe you’ll end up writing books too. You read enough, so you’ll probably get the hang of it and have your own published.’
I felt myself blushing scarlet. I knew she was probably just trying to be encouraging back to me, but it meant a lot, even so.
‘I know one thing, though,’ said Smash. ‘It’s not ever going to work for Tree Boy.’
‘Oh, don’t. Poor old Robbie,’ I said.
I looked over at him. He was nibbling at the edge of his pizza. It was his favourite, pepperoni, but he was acting as if he’d been given rat-tail topping.
‘He might end up a chef. He likes cooking,’ I said.
‘Well, it doesn’t look as if he likes eating,’ said Smash. ‘Don’t you want that pizza, Robbie? I’ll have it if you like.’
‘You’ve had too much already, Smash,’ said Alice.
‘You eat your own pizza, Robbie. Come on, eat it properly. Stop that prissy nibbling,’ said Dad.
Robbie took a big bite and chewed. It was a mistake. I saw his face. I knew he was imagining rat-tails in his mouth. I grabbed him as he turned pale green.
‘Run, Robbie!’ I said, trying to rush him to the toilets.
We didn’t quite make it in time. I mopped him up as best I could, but he really needed a clean set of clothes.
‘We’d better go home,’ said Dad – but that was a problem too.
Robbie went even greener when he saw the underground sign and threw up again. We ended up having to get a taxi to the station, with Dad paying the cabbie double because he didn’t want Robbie being sick in his car.
It wasn’t really a fun day at all. I heard Alice and Dad whining that it had been a waste of time and effort trying to take us for a lovely day out. They were in the kitchen, but we could still hear them clearly.
I saw Robbie’s face and my heart turned over. I went into the kitchen.
‘Please stop going on about it!’ I said. ‘It’s not fair. Robbie couldn’t help being sick.’
‘Do you mind, Rosalind? We’re having a private conversation,’ Dad said coldly.
‘But we do mind, Dad. You’re making us feel bad and it’s not our fault,’ I said.
‘I’d appreciate it if you didn’t argue with me,’ Dad said. ‘You’re getting a bit above yourself, young lady. I think we’ve heard quite enough of your opinion.’
‘I can’t win, can I? One minute you say I’m quiet as a mouse – and the next I’ve got too much to say. You’re allowed to criticize us, but we’re not ever supposed to find fault with you,’ I said, my voice rising.
‘Stop shouting at me! Do you behave like this with Mum?’
‘Rosalind’s imitating Smash. She’s clearly a bad influence,’ said Alice, and sighed. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do with that girl.’
‘I can hear you,’ Smash called. ‘Yatter, yatter, yatter – naughty, rude, disobedient, bad-mouthed Smash – more yatter, yatter, yatter. See if I care!’
I wanted Robbie to join in too, but he was still very pale and quiet and shaky. He went up to bed at the same time as Maudie.
Smash and I stayed awake for ages, having a wonderful moaning session about Dad and Alice.
‘I always miss Dad so much when I’m not with him – and yet when I am he’s sometimes so bossy and mean that I can’t stick him. I especially can’t stand him being bossy and mean to Robbie,’ I said.
‘I can’t stick my mum being bossy and mean to me – and she nearly always is,’ said Smash. ‘I love my dad much more. Well, I used to. He seems to have forgotten all about me since he got married.’
‘I think I love my mum more than my dad,’ I whispered, though I felt wicked saying it.
‘Let’s ring them up,’ said Smash, fishing for her mobile phone. ‘We’ll talk to your mum and my dad. I’ll go first.’
‘Are you sure your dad won’t mind, seeing as he’s on his honeymoon?’
‘Yuck! It’s disgusting, a guy his age going on a honeymoon,’ said Smash, pulling a face.
She selected his number. It rang for a long time, while Smash tutted and tapped her foot impatiently. Then the phone switched to voicemail.
‘Hey, Dad, it’s me! Answer me! I have to talk to you,’ said Smash.
She rang off.
‘Oh dear. Never mind.’ I hesitated. ‘Can I ring my mum now?’
‘No, wait. He’ll ring back,’ said Smash. She nodded triumphantly as her phone started ringing.
‘Hey, Dad! … What? … No, I’m fine, I just … Look, I know it’s past my bedtime, but I don’t care what time it is, I need to talk … Huh? To tell you stuff, obviously … Like what I’ve been doing. Which is actually pretty weird. You’d never believe the half of it … Well – no, I can’t really say, you’ll think I’ve gone crazy … No, nothing like that. It’s just there’s this kind of magic stuff … Okay, like a game, but it’s actually real … What? I don’t know how much it costs to phone the Seychelles … Don’t you want to talk to me? Listen, I haven’t said all the stuff about Mum – she’s being so mean to me … Like forever whining about my attitude, and making these veiled comments about my weight, like she thinks I’m gross … Yeah, yeah … What? What? Oh, you obviously don’t care! Bye, Dad.’ She ended the phone call abruptly. ‘I could make him care,’ she said bitterly. ‘They don’t realize, my stupid parents. I could
mosey down to the sandpit and make one little wish … I could wish Dad suddenly hated this awful Tessa and make Mum suddenly hate your dad. I could muck it all up for them. That would be great, eh?’
‘No, I think it would make them all worse, especially to us,’ I said.
‘But if your dad got fed up with my mum he’d maybe go back to your mum. Wouldn’t you like that?’
‘Well, I used to hope and hope it would happen. Robbie and I wished it every single night.’
‘There you are then! You can wish it for real.’
I sat still, trying out the idea in my head. It was so weird knowing I could really do it. I thought of Mum, and how after Dad left she’d cried night after night in bed when she thought we couldn’t hear her. It would make her so happy to have Dad back, wouldn’t it?
‘Can I phone my mum now, Smash?’
‘Oh yeah, sorry.’
Mum took ages to answer too. I pictured her, shut up in some gloomy college bedroom, so deep in her studies it was a while before it dawned on her that the phone was ringing.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Mum!’
‘Ros! Hello, darling. What is it? What’s the matter? How are you getting on at Dad’s?’
‘I’m fine, Mum,’ I said.
‘And Robbie?’
‘He’s … fine too,’ I said, because I didn’t want to worry her. I wasn’t sure where she was, but there seemed an awful lot of noise her end, music and talking and laughter, almost as if she were at a party.
‘Then why are you phoning so late, love?’
‘I – I was just worried you might be lonely.’
‘Oh, darling, you’re so sweet. No, I’m not a bit lonely. The Summer School’s absolutely great and I’m with a whole lot of friends now and we’re letting our hair down a bit. I haven’t had so much fun in years.’
‘Oh. Right. Well, that’s good.’
‘What is it, Rosalind? There’s something on your mind, isn’t there?’
‘Well, I was just wondering – do you ever wish Dad would come back?’ I blurted out.
Mum was quiet for a moment. I heard someone asking her if she was okay, and someone else offering her another drink.
‘That’s a funny thing to ask,’ Mum said eventually. ‘Why, has Dad said anything?’
‘No, not really.’
‘Is he having rows with Alice?’ Mum asked, sounding hopeful.
‘Not exactly. Well, you know Dad, he ends up having rows with everyone.’
‘I hope he’s not been cross with you and Robs,’ Mum said indignantly. ‘Shall I talk to him?’
‘No, better not. I’m actually supposed to be asleep now.’
‘Well, so I should hope. It is very late.’ Mum paused. ‘I don’t think it would work now if Dad came back, Ros,’ she said very gently. ‘He’s changed. And I’ve changed too. I know it’s maybe what you and Robs would like, but I’m afraid I don’t think it will ever happen.’
‘It could do, Mum,’ I said. ‘Look, I know this sounds absolutely crazy, but I know how I could work a magic spell. Well, someone could wish it for me – this magical creature. Do you remember the Psammead in Five Children and It?’
‘I loved that book. It was one of my favourites when I was your age,’ said Mum. ‘In fact I’m thinking of writing about it for my children’s literature module.’
‘Yes, well, the Psammead’s real! We’ve found it in a sandpit in Oxshott woods, but you mustn’t tell anyone,’ I hissed into the phone.
‘What’s that? I’m sorry, darling, it’s so noisy here I can hardly hear you.’
‘We see the Psammead nearly every day and it grants us wishes and I – I was wondering what you’d really like if you could have a wish.’
‘Oh, this sounds a lovely game,’ said Mum, clearly not believing a word I was saying. ‘Okay, I wish that you and Robs have a lovely holiday and that I get the most out of my Summer School.’
‘That’s not a very imaginative wish, Mum!’
‘Well, you’re the one with the vivid imagination, darling, not me. I must go now – and you must settle down and go to sleep. Night night, Ros. Love you lots.’ She made kissing noises.
‘Love you, Mum,’ I said. I made kissing noises too, and then switched off.
Smash was staring at me. She pulled a face. ‘Yuck, what’s with all this lovey kissy rubbish?’ she said. ‘You’re talking to your mum, not your boyfriend.’
‘She didn’t believe me about the Psammead,’ I said.
‘Well, there’s a surprise,’ said Smash.
‘She says she doesn’t want Dad to come back,’ I said. ‘She doesn’t think it would work. And maybe it wouldn’t. He loves your mum more – I can see that. And it’s too difficult wishing really big family stuff because we might get it all wrong. It’s not actually my turn for a wish anyway. It’s Robbie’s.’
‘Maybe he should wish he could frighten the pants off Marvel O’Kaye. That would be funny!’ said Smash.
Poor Robbie had bad dreams in the night and shouted out again. I tried to get to him before Dad, but didn’t manage it.
Dad did his best to be kind and tried to give Robbie a cuddle, but Robs curled into a tight little ball, his eyes closed, and wouldn’t speak to him.
‘Come on, son. You need to talk it out, tell me what’s going on in that silly head of yours. That’s the only way I can help,’ said Dad. He was starting to get irritated. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Robbie. Don’t just lie there quivering. What’s the matter with you?’
Robbie kept quiet, while the rats ran round and round in his head and that voice of doom echoed in his ears. Maudie sat up in her cot and was immediately wide awake and chirpy.
‘Playtime!’ she said, standing up and bouncing.
‘Sleepytime!’ said Alice firmly, picking her up and taking her off to her own bedroom. We could hear Maudie chuckling and singing to them, long after Dad went back too. She sang her special nursery rhyme over and over again. ‘Hey diddle diddle, Jack and Jill went up the hill, Atishoo atishoo, We’ll all have tea!’ Alice and Dad kept wearily begging her to be quiet and go to sleep.
I stayed with Robbie, sliding into his bed and curling round him to help him feel safe. It wasn’t very comfortable, especially as he had most of his zoo animals in the bed with him.
‘You go to sleep, Robs. I won’t let the bad dreams come back. And tomorrow we’ll try to get Dad and Alice to take us back to the woods and we’ll see the Psammead, and it’s your turn for a wish. Have you thought what you’re going to wish for? It could be anything at all. Remember, we’ve wished that Dad doesn’t notice anything, so he can’t get cross.’
‘I wish we didn’t have a dad,’ Robbie mumbled.
‘Hey, shut up, don’t you start!’ I said.
‘But I don’t like him any more,’ Robbie said.
‘That’s silly. Of course you do.’
‘No, I don’t. And he doesn’t like me.’
‘Yes, he does. He loves you. You’re his son.’
‘But he hates it that I get scared and get sick … Ros?’
‘What?’
‘Do you think Dad left us because of me?’ Robbie whispered. ‘Because he got fed up with me?’
‘No! It wasn’t anything to do with you – or me either. Dad just got fed up with poor old Mum, and liked Alice more.’ I gave Robbie a big hug. ‘Now, stop worrying about silly stuff. You just think up a really, really good wish for tomorrow.’
We nearly didn’t get to the woods the next day. It rained most of the morning.
‘We can’t have a picnic in the pouring rain,’ said Dad.
‘I’m a bit sick of picnics anyway,’ said Alice. ‘They’re too much hard work.’
Smash and Robbie and I begged and pleaded, especially when the rain stopped around noon, but Dad and Alice didn’t take any notice of us. However, we had one small ultra-winning ally.
‘Picnic?’ said Maudie. ‘Picnic in woods! Yes, yes, yes!’
‘Again?’
said Alice.
‘Again! Again! Again!’ said Maudie, jumping up and down.
‘Well, I suppose we can always sit on a tarpaulin,’ said Dad. ‘And I’ll make the picnic this time, Alice.’
He cut a big French loaf into chunks, wrapped up three different cheeses, took some pears and bananas from the fruit bowl, a packet of chocolate biscuits from the cupboard, and stuck a big box of fruit lollies in the ice pack in the cold bag.
‘There!’ he said triumphantly.
It wasn’t as elaborate a picnic as Alice’s, but it was very enjoyable all the same. Alice wasn’t at all happy about Maudie having an ice lolly, fussing about food colouring and E numbers, but it was hot now the sun was out and Maudie’s eyes were big and pleading. She got her lolly too and licked and slurped happily, getting orange all round her mouth, even in her ears, because she kept turning her head to stare longingly at the sandpit.
‘Monkey in a minute!’ she said.
‘Yes, we’ll just go and play Monkey with Maudie in the sandpit,’ said Smash.
‘You and your funny games,’ said Alice. ‘All right then – but no wandering off, do you absolutely promise?’
‘Don’t worry, Mum. We’re never going to do that to you again,’ said Smash. ‘Come on, Maudie, let’s dig in the sand, yeah?’
We all went over to the sandpit, Maudie jumping about gleefully.
‘It’s your turn, Robbie, remember?’ I said.
‘My turn, my turn, my turn!’ said Maudie.
We all stared at her.
‘Well … I suppose Maudie hasn’t had a turn, but isn’t she too little?’ I said doubtfully. ‘What if she wishes something weird and it all goes wrong?’
‘Like that hasn’t happened to us!’ said Smash. She scrabbled in the sand and discovered a Psammead paw. ‘Aha! Found you! Come out, little Mr Psammead!’ She started pulling at him.
‘Gently!’ said Robbie.
‘Yes, extremely gently,’ said the Psammead crossly, pushing through the sand and giving itself a shake. It yawned hugely, showing a very pink mouth and a lot of sharp little teeth. ‘I was having such a delightful snooze too. Why did you have to come and disturb me?’