‘Shall I try carrying Pixie for a bit?’ said Bliss.
‘Oh, you’re a darling, but Pixie’s almost as big as you. Thank you, though, Bliss – you’re a gold-star sister.’ I saw that she was limping a little. ‘What’s the matter with your foot?’
‘It’s sore,’ said Bliss. ‘But it’s OK.’
I made her take her shoe and sock off. Her sock had slipped down under her heel and her trainer had rubbed her ankle raw.
‘Oh Bliss, you should have said. Look, take your other shoe and sock off, give your toes a treat and run around barefoot,’ I suggested.
‘No, it’s all dirty.’
‘It’s just grass.’
‘And lots of animal poo!’
‘No, there isn’t. Well, teeny tiny rabbit poo every now and then, but that’s nothing to be scared of.’
‘I am scared of it.’
‘Well, all right, don’t go barefoot, but pull your sock up. here, wait a minute, put my sock on too, that will protect it better.’
My own trainer started rubbing after five more minutes but I just had to ignore it. We kept on trudging. Baxter was the only one of us with any energy left. He found another branch and played a mad tree-whacking game, pretending they were all enemy soldiers. At least it kept him moving forward in the right direction. If it was the right direction.
My heart started banging in my chest. I thought we were going the right way, but how could I be sure? And how on earth were we going to find our special hiding-place tree when there were hundreds, thousands, maybe even millions of trees in this vast park? Well, we’d just have to find another hollow tree. No, wait, what about all our food, our blankets, our special things? What about Pixie’s buggy? Why hadn’t I kept a careful note of where we were going? I should have left a little trail of bread or stones like the children in fairy tales.
I was getting so anxious now that I could barely breathe, and I was close to dropping Pixie altogether. The others didn’t seem to notice. Bliss limped along, Baxter bashed his trees, and Pixie crooned sleepily into my chest. ‘Little, little, little.’
I kept looking all around, trying to get my bearings. We were walking near a road, and I didn’t think that was right at all. The road itself wasn’t right – it was completely empty. Where had all the cars gone? The park gates must be closed, like the café. It meant we were all alone in the park.
‘We’re absolutely safe now. There’s no one around to be nosy,’ I said. ‘Look, we can walk in the road, we can shout at the tops of our voices, we can strip off and wander about stark naked!’
‘Yeah!’ said Baxter, tearing off his T-shirt and shorts.
‘I didn’t mean literally,’ I said, but I decided to let him be silly just for the fun of it.
He even took his funny little underpants off, running along totally naked apart from his trainers, taking great leaps and whooping at the top of his voice. We three girls shrieked with laughter at him. Then of course Pixie started tugging at her own clothes and had to do her own totally bare prancing. Baxter and Pixie wanted Bliss and me to strip off too, but we felt too bashful – which was just as well, because a whole bunch of serious runners suddenly thudded past. Their faces were grim with effort but they all cracked up when they saw my brother and little sister.
‘Put your clothes back on. We’d better stay away from the road,’ I commanded.
‘Aren’t we nearly there yet?’ said Baxter. ‘My feet hurt.’
‘Mine do too,’ said Bliss, who was in a far worse state.
‘And mine,’ said Pixie, which was monstrous, because I’d carried her most of the way.
‘I’m not sure I really like it here without any cars or people,’ Bliss said.
‘Yes you do. It’s great fun,’ I said, trying to wrestle Pixie back into her clothes. ‘You’re having fun, aren’t you, Pixie?’
‘You bet,’ said Pixie, charging off with her jeans inside out and one arm still not properly in her T-shirt.
‘And you’re having fun too, aren’t you, Baxter?’ I said, as he whirled around, still naked.
‘Not really, not any more,’ said Baxter. He sat down and put his pants on his head.
‘Oh ha ha,’ I said. ‘You’re not really funny doing that, chum.’
Pixie found him hilarious, however, squealing with laughter and pointing at him.
‘His pants, his pants!’ she shouted.
Baxter smirked at her.
‘I am funny,’ he said.
‘The joke’s on you, Baxter, putting your smelly pants on your head.’
Baxter’s smile faded.
‘Then I’ll put them on your head,’ he said, trying to cram them on my hair.
‘Get off, you moron,’ I said, struggling with him. My fist shot out and somehow connected with his nose.
‘Ow! You hit me!’ Baxter yelled, punching and kicking me.
‘Stop it! Put your wretched pants on. And the rest of your clothes.’
‘I don’t have to do what you say. You’re not Mum,’ said Baxter, rubbing his red nose.
‘Yes, she is, Lily’s like our mum now,’ said Bliss.
‘She’s just a kid, like us. She doesn’t know anything. She’s scared because she’s a stupid girl. And she’s got us lost!’ said Baxter, stepping into his underpants and jeans.
‘No I haven’t!’ I said.
‘Yes, you haven’t got a clue where we are, admit it,’ said Baxter.
‘I do know. I’m sure we’re quite near our tree. And anyway, even if we’re not, it might be fun to sleep in this soft ferny part. We could make another camp here,’ I said. I lay down there and then.
‘Oh, it feels lovely,’ I said, making little purring noises of appreciation, as if I’d just got into a big comfy bed.
I didn’t fool any of them, not even Pixie. They stood staring down at me as if I’d gone mad.
‘Come and join me, Bliss,’ I said.
She hopped from one foot to another.
‘We’re not really going to sleep there, are we?’ she whispered. ‘What about Headless? I can’t sleep without him.’
‘Well, you’re maybe going to have to,’ I snapped, sitting up. ‘Because all right, I don’t have a clue where our wretched tree and all our stuff is.’
They looked shocked, even Baxter.
‘I want my buggy,’ Pixie howled, though she always struggled to get out of it.
‘I want my brand-new fork-lift truck,’ Baxter snarled.
‘I want Headless,’ said Bliss, and she crumpled up.
‘OK, OK, I was only kidding. Of course I know where the tree is,’ I said, staggering to my feet and brushing myself down. ‘Come on, it’s this way, I think.’
We blundered on. I carried Pixie, and then for a while I got Baxter to give her a piggyback while I carried Bliss on one hip because she was limping so badly now. She kept making little gulping noises, trying hard not to cry. I felt so bad, wondering why I’d dragged the kids into this huge park instead of keeping them safe at home. I kept looking desperately for familiar landmarks, but all the park seemed strange and alien now.
‘We’re lost, aren’t we?’ said Bliss, in a tiny voice.
‘No, we’re not lost,’ I said. ‘Well, maybe just a little bit. But we’ll find our way. If we get to the park gates we’ll know we’ve gone past our tree and we’ll simply have to turn round and go back the way we came. Now think, Bliss. You were the one who found our tree, when you ran away from that dog. Keep your eyes peeled and maybe you’ll find the tree for us all over again.’
Bliss obediently opened her eyes wide and swivelled her head, looking all around.
‘Maybe – maybe it’s that one!’ she said – but when we ran over to it, it wasn’t hollow at all. We tried another and another and another, peering at every large tree we saw, without any luck at all.
‘Headless will be so lonely without me,’ Bliss mumbled. ‘I think he’s crying.’
‘How can he cry if he hasn’t got his eyes any more?’ I s
aid.
‘He just cries inside himself, in his tummy. I can always tell when he’s doing it,’ said Bliss.
‘You’re bonkers,’ said Baxter, screwing his finger into the side of his head. ‘You’re all totally bonkers. I wish I didn’t have bonkers sisters and a bonkers mum. I wish I had a brother and a proper dad. All you girls are useless.’
‘Buggy!’ said Pixie. ‘Buggy!’
‘Yeah, useless, whingeing on about your stupid buggy and your stupid headless bear,’ Baxter sneered.
‘BUGGY!’ Pixie shouted, scrambling to her feet and then charging down the hill.
‘Pixie! Careful, you’ll trip and fall! Watch out! Where are you going?’ I yelled, dumping Bliss and running after her.
Then I suddenly realized. Pixie had spotted a metal handle glinting in the sunlight. She’d seen her own red buggy partially hidden in the ferns. She’d found our hiding place!
We joined hands and danced round and round our tree, celebrating. Then we sat down amongst the ferns, Pixie in her buggy like a queen on a throne, and had a feast of biscuits and Dairylea and cornflakes and Lilt and Coke. We passed the strawberry jam round too, each of us scooping out a handful. Pixie got especially sticky but I spat on a T-shirt and scrubbed her as best I could.
Then I got out our fairy-tale book and read aloud Babes in the Wood, Hansel and Gretel and Little Red Riding Hood, all stories we could imagine happening in the trees around us. Bliss imagined all too vividly, and hung on tight to Headless while phantom wicked stepmothers and witches and wolves crept up on her. I had to read all the way through her favourite Cinderella to calm her down. Baxter chuntered a little, but settled to listen, absent-mindedly spinning the wheels of his fork-lift truck. Pixie started rubbing her eyes and sucking her thumb.
I supervised a little trip behind a bush and then lifted her up into our tree, sitting her on top of a pillow, with another for her head. She looked so cute and cosy that Bliss begged to join her, and Baxter agreed happily enough when I suggested it might be his bedtime too.
I tucked them all up and then fiddled around for a while, packing up all our food (not that there was much left now) and folding the buggy back beneath the ferns. I circled the tree several times, trying to think of some way of marking it which wouldn’t look too obvious to anyone else. In the end I ruined my yellow felt-tip pen by rubbing it up and down the bark. It made the tree look distinctive, but naturally so, as if lichen had started growing on it.
Then I crouched down at the bottom of the tree, perching on the roots, guarding my sisters and brother. I watched the sun slide downwards in the sky, turning it orange, scarlet, crimson. I’d seen sunsets before, of course, but never out in the open like this. I felt tears pricking my eyes as the sky faded to pinky-purple. Then I climbed up into the tree to go to sleep too.
There was really only just enough room for the three children curled round each other. I had to burrow down underneath them and they moaned at me crossly. Pixie was particularly difficult, forever thrashing about. She had the smallest arms and legs but they seemed to be everywhere.
I wondered about climbing out again and curling up at the base of the tree, but they had all the pillows and blankets inside. I stuck it out, crammed in a corner with all three kids burrowing into me – and surprisingly fell fast asleep.
I woke with a start. We all did. Something was thumping our tree hard, again and again, attacking us. Pixie started crying and I put my hand over her mouth.
‘Shh, shh, don’t make a sound!’
‘But what is it?’ Bliss whispered, shivering.
‘I don’t know!’ I was shivering too.
‘I’ll jump out and hit it with my stick,’ said Baxter bravely.
There was another whack against the tree trunk, and then strange chomping noises.
‘It’s an ogre, I just know it’s an ogre!’ Bliss whimpered.
‘Don’t be silly,’ I said – but it sounded horribly like an ogre. I hung on hard to Baxter. It wasn’t his job to protect us. I was the eldest. I took a deep breath and pushed the tablecloth aside so I could see out. But I couldn’t see anything at all. The park was terrifyingly dark, a thick deep black everywhere, so I couldn’t see a thing. But I could certainly still hear: there was that awful rustling and chomping, and then another massive thump against the tree. Was the ogre attacking us with his bare fists, or did he have a stick?
My eyes were adjusting to the darkness. I saw the shadowy shapes of two sticks, somehow joined onto a great head. No, not sticks, antlers! It was a stag, banging his antlers against the bark of our tree, and then nibbling at the leaves within its reach.
‘It’s OK, it’s only a deer!’ I said, laughing shakily.
‘Let’s see, let’s see!’ said Baxter. ‘I could fight him like a bull!’
‘No, he’s a lovely deer, we don’t want to hurt him,’ I said.
‘He’s a lovely deer, but he might want to hurt us,’ said Bliss. ‘Please make him go away, Lily.’
‘Well, I’ll try,’ I said. I stood up and poked my head right out of the tablecloth. ‘Stop now,’ I said firmly.
The deer paused, obviously startled.
‘That’s right, off you go. Join the rest of your herd,’ I said.
He had one last little chomp of leaves and then ambled away.
‘He’s gone!’ said Bliss. ‘Wow! You’re like an animal trainer, Lily.’
‘It’s easy-peasy bossing a deer about,’ said Baxter. ‘You were so stupid, Bliss, scared of a silly old deer. I wasn’t a bit scared, was I, Lily?’
‘No, you were very brave. We all were,’ I said.
‘Is it time to get up now?’ Pixie asked.
‘No, silly, it’s pitch black,’ I said.
‘It’s too dark,’ said Bliss. ‘Headless doesn’t like it.’
‘How can Headless tell whether it’s dark or light?’ said Baxter.
‘He knows things,’ said Bliss. ‘Doesn’t he, Lily?’
‘Yes, old Headless knows more than anyone,’ I said. ‘Stop wriggling, Pixie.’
‘I think I want to do a wee,’ said Pixie.
I was dreading she’d say that.
‘Can’t you wait till morning?’ I asked.
‘I don’t think I can wait at all,’ said Pixie.
I sighed. ‘Come on, then.’
It was terrifying climbing out of the tree into total darkness. I wondered if the deer would come back and mistake my legs for a juicy bunch of leaves. I hauled Pixie out after me. She curled up as small as she could.
‘Put your feet down, Pixie.’
‘No, I don’t like it.’
‘How can you do a wee hovering in mid-air?’
‘I don’t need to go now.’
‘Oh yes you do. In fact I do too. I’ll go first, shall I?’
‘Yes, then the deer can eat your bottom and not mine,’ said Pixie.
I felt my way through the ferns, Pixie stumbling beside me.
‘You won’t wee on my buggy, will you?’ Pixie asked anxiously.
‘I’ll try not to wee on the cornflakes and biscuits either,’ I said, squatting down beside a tree.
It was quite difficult going, and when it was Pixie’s turn I had to hold her up and help her. When we found our way back to our hiding tree, Bliss and Baxter decided they needed to go too.
It took Bliss ages, she was so scared that some badger or stoat or rat would come scrabbling up her legs. Baxter was much easier – but he ordered me to stay close to him, disconcerted by the blackness of the night.
‘I’m not one bit afraid of the dark though,’ he said.
‘Of course you’re not,’ I said. ‘You’re as brave as brave can be. You were all set to protect us from the deer, weren’t you?’
‘Yes, I’d have gone whack whack whack. Will you tell Mum, Lily?’
‘Yes, I’ll tell her.’
‘And tell my dad too?’
‘Well, if we see him.’
‘This Gordon isn’t going to be ou
r new dad, is he?’
‘No fear.’
He didn’t seem real, perhaps because we’d never met him. But for that matter Mum didn’t seem very real now. When we were at home in our flat there was a huge empty space where she had been, but here in the park we’d made a new home just for us four.
When we were all back in the tree we did our jigsaw-puzzle act, slotting arms and legs round each other, and went back to sleep. Bliss whimpered and twitched, probably dreaming of ogres, and Baxter kicked a lot, probably fighting them. Pixie slept soundly, lying heavily on top of me, making little snoring sounds. I hovered on the edge of sleep, listening out for deer. Every so often I heard rustling around me, and the birds started singing while it was still very dark.
I started worrying about what we were going to eat for breakfast. There was very little food left. This wasn’t like real camping, where you cooked sausages and bacon in a pan over a little fire. I’d heard Rosa at school talking about her camping holidays in the Lake District. She hadn’t been talking to me. No one spoke to me very much, though I didn’t get bullied any more. I’d fought one of the big boys because he used a very bad word to describe my mum. They left me alone after that, which was just fine with me. Well, I pretended it was.
I’d have liked to be friendly with some of the girls, especially Rosa, who had dark curly hair and very big brown eyes with long lashes. I’d tried to make friends with her, commenting on the fact that we both had flowery names, but she looked alarmed and then rolled her beautiful eyes at the other girls nearby. They all rolled their eyes back and several of them held their noses. They all said I smelled. I didn’t think I did, but it made me nervous. I didn’t try to make friends any more after that, but I eavesdropped on their chatter about their fancy bedrooms and their parties and their holidays. I especially hankered after Rose’s camping holidays and asked Mum if we could go to the Lake District. I didn’t think it would cost too much if we all crowded into one tent – but it was Mum’s turn to roll her eyes.
‘How are we going to get there, stupid, on the eighty-five bus? The Lake District’s hundreds of miles away. There’s nothing there anyway, just a lot of hills and water, and it always pours with rain.’