Fairy Secrets Page 3

  ‘I’m Enid,’ said the china doll, whose missing shoe had been replaced with a sparkly new one and whose knickers were no longer on display.

  ‘And I’m Llewellyn,’ announced the toy soldier, giving her an earnest salute. His paint looked shinier than the last time she had seen him and his gold buttons and silver gun were gleaming. ‘I’m sorry if my sneeze startled you just now. I do sneeze rather a lot, I’m afraid. It’s very dusty in here, which is not what I’m used to. A soldier’s barracks are always spick and span, you see.’

  Ellie stared at the four of them in amazement. ‘I just don’t understand how it’s possible . . .’ she began in a shaky voice. ‘I mean, I’ve always believed in fairies but . . .’

  ‘It’s not that strange really,’ Bronwen explained. ‘You see, if a toymaker believes in fairies, then a little bit of fairy magic goes into every toy they make . . .’

  ‘And then if the first child who owns the toy believes in fairies too, that magic gets stronger,’ Myfanwy continued.

  ‘And if the toy then meets a fairy who sprinkles it with fairy dust, then the toy can come to life!’ Bronwen added. ‘But only until the fairy dust wears off again – then it goes back to being an ordinary toy.’

  ‘Wow!’ Ellie exclaimed, wondering if any of her toys at home were coming to life when she wasn’t around to see them.

  Myfanwy suddenly glanced up at the big museum clock and exclaimed, ‘It’s time for Queen Lily to arrive! Quick, everyone! Get ready!’

  ‘Ellie – you’d better sit down and watch,’ Bronwen told her gently. ‘You’re going to see some fairy magic now, so please don’t be scared.’

  As Ellie looked on, the picnic rug that the toys were seated around started to glow and, as Ellie watched, the rug seemed to glow more and more brightly until it began to radiate beams of light in all directions. And suddenly, along the central beam of light, a fairy started to emerge, getting bigger and bigger as she got closer.

  ‘The toys form a sort of magic portal for us to travel through,’ Bronwen whispered to Ellie. ‘They have to be sitting around this rug inside the museum for it to work though.’

  Ellie was speechless as the fairy came flying out from the light, her beautiful glittering wings spread out behind her. She was wearing a long yellow and cream layered dress made from several different types of daffodil petals, and draped around her shoulders was a cloak of pink lily petals. Her golden hair fell in waves down her back, and she had green eyes set in a beautiful heart-shaped face. Her pretty floral crown floated magically just above her head, and her sparkly petal shoes sprinkled golden dust wherever she flew. As she entered the room the scent of lilies accompanied her.

  Ellie was too in awe to do anything but stare, open-mouthed, as the fairy settled on top of the nearest glass cabinet and looked down at her.

  ‘I am Queen Lily of the Valley,’ the fairy queen announced, smiling sweetly at Ellie. ‘And you must be the little girl Bronwen and Myfanwy have told me about.’

  ‘Y-yes . . . I’m . . . I’m E-Ellie,’ Ellie stammered, suddenly feeling more shy than she had ever felt in her life.

  ‘You are the sister of the boy who saved Myfanwy from the fishpond, are you not?’

  Ellie nodded. ‘I-I’m sorry, but David doesn’t believe in fairies any more.’

  ‘So Bronwen and Myfanwy have told me. That is very sad. How old is he now?’

  ‘Fourteen.’

  Queen Lily sighed. ‘I’m afraid that is a difficult age for any boy to believe in fairies. Still, we must not give up hope. Now . . .’ She turned to face Bronwen and Myfanwy. ‘As you know, I asked you to bring Ellie here so that we could ask for her help in saving the museum. But on reflection I think that even with Ellie’s help, it is going to be very difficult indeed to stop the toy museum from being closed. In fact, I’m beginning to think that the most important thing we can do now is to find ourselves another valley to live in.’ As Bronwen and Myfanwy gasped in dismay at this announcement, the fairy queen turned back to look gravely at Ellie. ‘I don’t know if my fairies have explained this to you, but entrances to Fairyland can only be formed in certain locations. Unfortunately the toy museum is the only location in this valley, which means that if the museum goes, then we will no longer be able to come here.’

  ‘But we can’t leave this valley!’ Bronwen burst out. ‘If we go, then who will look after the sheep when lambing season comes? And who will help the ones who get lost on the mountain?’

  ‘The farmers will still be here,’ Queen Lily reminded her calmly. ‘You know they always do their best for their sheep.’

  ‘But they can’t fly, so they can’t always get there in time!’ Bronwen argued, sounding close to tears.

  ‘And what about Mr Owen who runs the garage?’ Myfanwy said in a trembly voice. ‘He’s been ever so lonely since his wife died. How will he manage without us visiting him to cheer him up?’

  Queen Lily sounded very sad as she answered. ‘I don’t know, Myfanwy. All I know is that this is the most beautiful of all the fairy valleys and I will be just as sorry to leave it as you are.’

  ‘What about us?’ called out an indignant voice, and everyone turned to look at Enid, who was standing up on her plump china legs looking distressed. ‘If we are to be taken to this place called London that we have heard Mr Daniels speak of, then how will we come to life there?’

  ‘Calm down, Enid,’ Llewellyn the soldier said, though he also looked worried. ‘Surely there are fairies in London who can help us come to life just as we do here?’

  ‘Of course there are,’ the fairy queen reassured them. ‘It might take them a little while to find you, that’s all.’

  ‘But I like living here!’ Enid exclaimed, sounding as if she might be about to have a tantrum.

  ‘So do I!’ Tedi growled angrily. ‘I don’t want to go to London!’

  ‘We must not leave Wales, whatever happens,’ Dilys said passionately. ‘We are Welsh toys, and I know we shall be terribly unhappy if we have to live anywhere else.’

  The toys started to all talk at once until the fairy queen held up her hand for silence.

  ‘If you are all so determined not to leave this valley, then it seems to me that there is only one thing to be done,’ she announced. ‘However difficult it appears, we must find a way of raising the money that Mr Daniels needs to keep the museum open. I know that money is not something we fairies know much about, but what we do know is that it is very important to humans. Ellie, you are a human. What do you think?’

  Ellie flushed as she felt everyone’s attention settle on her. The truth was that she had already seen Mr Daniels’s home-made posters pinned up around the village and according to her aunt they had generated very little response.

  ‘The trouble is, people probably don’t think the toy museum is such an important cause as some other charities,’ she mumbled self-consciously.

  ‘Are you saying that humans don’t care about toys?’ Dilys demanded, her dark eyes flashing.

  ‘I think it’s just that most people don’t know that toys can come to life,’ Ellie explained quickly. ‘Which is why they probably think it’s better to give money to . . . I don’t know . . .’ She paused, thinking about the charities her parents supported. ‘Say, the NSPCC – that’s the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children – or the RSPCA – that’s the charity that prevents cruelty to animals.’

  ‘But what about us?’ Myfanwy said impatiently. ‘Surely a charity has been set up for the prevention of cruelty to fairies?’

  Ellie shook her head, trying not to smile. ‘I’m sorry. I think people either just don’t believe in fairies or . . . or . . . they sort of assume that fairies can take care of themselves.’

  The three fairies and four dolls all stared at her in dismay.

  ‘Well, usually we can, of course,’ Queen Lily said finally. ‘But there will always be times when we fairies need a little help from you humans.’

  Ellie frowned, trying her
hardest to think what she could do to help, while all the toys and fairies continued to stare at her expectantly. ‘I suppose we could always target somebody who has a special reason to help the museum,’ she suggested.

  ‘Like who?’ Bronwen and Myfanwy asked together.

  ‘I don’t know . . . someone with a special interest in old toys, maybe. Or someone who once donated a toy to the museum and wants to see the museum stay where it is.’

  ‘I know, I know!’ Enid burst out excitedly. ‘What about the human I used to belong to?’

  But before Ellie could even ask who that was, Tedi was shaking his head, Dilys was rolling her eyes and Llewellyn was looking impatient as he said, ‘Not this again!’

  Enid ignored them and announced proudly, ‘I used to belong to the Queen!’

  ‘No, you didn’t!’ Dilys snapped.

  ‘Yes, I did. You’re just jealous because I’m a royal doll and you’re not!’

  ‘Enid, we’ve been through this before – you’ve no proof!’ Tedi interjected.

  ‘No toy can remember who their owner was before they first came to life,’ Myfanwy quickly explained to Ellie. ‘But even though Enid first came to life in this museum, she’s been convinced she does remember her previous owner, ever since—’

  ‘Let me tell her about it,’ Enid butted in crossly. And she related to Ellie how one evening Mr Daniels had taken her downstairs to his living quarters in order to mend her dress while he watched television. ‘There was a hypnotist on the programme,’ Enid explained, ‘and he demonstrated how you can hypnotize a human to make them remember things that happened to them when they were very young. Well, as he spoke it was as if his words were sending me into a trance, and all of a sudden the word “Queen” popped up in my head!’

  ‘Yeah, right!’ Dilys said sarcastically. ‘And the Queen is really going to come here and help us the second she hears about a tiny toy museum closing!’

  ‘Well, she might! Or her son might! He is the Prince of Wales, you know.’

  ‘Never mind that for a minute, Enid,’ Bronwen interrupted suddenly. ‘I’ve got a much better idea.’ She paused until she was sure the others were all listening. ‘What about Mrs Lloyd-Hughes?’

  ‘Who’s she?’ Ellie asked.

  ‘She’s a very rich widowed lady who lives in the big manor house next to the church,’ Bronwen explained. ‘She’s got loads of money and no family to leave it to, and she quite often gives donations to local causes that are to do with children. The thing is, she might not have seen Mr Daniels’s posters because she’s very old and frail and she hardly ever leaves her house. If we could persuade her to donate some of her money to the museum . . .’

  ‘But how can we ask her?’ Myfanwy wanted to know. ‘She doesn’t believe in fairies, so we can’t even speak to her.’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be a fairy who asks her, does it?’ Bronwen replied, looking pointedly at Ellie.

  Everyone turned to gaze at Ellie then, including the fairy queen.

  ‘Will you help us, Ellie?’ Queen Lily asked in the gentlest of voices.

  ‘W-wouldn’t it be better if Mr Daniels asked her, rather than me?’ Ellie mumbled nervously. The truth was that she was far too shy to go knocking on the door of a complete stranger to ask for help.

  ‘Mr Daniels is too proud to ask anyone for money directly,’ Queen Lily said, flying down from the top of her cabinet and stopping to hover in the air in front of Ellie’s face. ‘Please say you’ll help us, Ellie,’ she pleaded. ‘You are our only hope.’

  By the time Ellie got home, Aunt Megan was starting to wonder where she had got to.

  ‘Surely it can’t take that long to choose a postcard, Ellie,’ she said when her niece finally appeared.

  ‘Yeah. So where is it then?’ David demanded. He was sitting at the kitchen table eating a big slice of chocolate cake.

  ‘I . . . I wrote it and put it in the post box already,’ Ellie quickly lied. ‘Aunt Megan, I’ve been thinking about how we can help Mr Daniels and I’ve had an idea.’

  She had been thinking all the way home about the best way to come to the aid of the fairies, and she had eventually decided to try and enlist her aunt’s help. After all, Aunt Megan wanted to save the museum too, didn’t she?

  ‘Really?’ Aunt Megan sounded interested. ‘What idea is that then?’

  ‘Well, I just heard that there’s a lady who’s very rich who lives in the village who often donates money to good causes that are to do with children,’ Ellie said. ‘Her name is Mrs Lloyd-Hughes. So I thought maybe you and I could go and ask her to help.’

  Aunt Megan looked surprised. ‘How did you hear about her, Ellie? Has somebody in the village been gossiping again?’ Fortunately she didn’t wait for a reply before she continued. ‘It’s true that Mrs Lloyd-Hughes has funded a number of local projects. She helped the Scouts when they needed a new hall and she also paid for a music room in the village school. She tends to like everyone to know about her involvement though! The new Scout hall has been named after her, and every year the school has to give a concert with her as guest of honour. If she gave any money to the toy museum, I expect its name would have to be changed to the Lloyd-Hughes Museum.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘I wonder what Daniel would think of that!’

  ‘Surely he’d rather have it called that than lose it altogether, wouldn’t he?’ Ellie pointed out.

  Aunt Megan nodded. ‘I suppose so. But you know, Ellie, he’s already put a leaflet through every door in the village asking for donations – including hers.’

  ‘Maybe she needs someone to ask her face to face,’ Ellie said. ‘I mean, if she’s the sort of person who likes to feel important, she’d probably want to be asked directly rather than just have some leaflet shoved through her door.’

  ‘You certainly have been thinking a lot about this, haven’t you, Ellie?’

  Ellie nodded. ‘So can we go and ask her ourselves right now, before Mr Daniels sells his museum to that man in London?’

  David, who had been listening to all of this with an incredulous expression, started to laugh. ‘You do realize that you’ll have to do all the talking when you get there, don’t you, Aunt Megan?’ he said. ‘Ellie will just clam up.’

  ‘No, I won’t!’ Ellie protested.

  ‘Of course you will. What about last Halloween when Mum and Dad made me take you out trick-or-treating? I was the one who had to speak every time somebody opened the door and all you did was stand there with your mouth open. I felt like a right idiot.’

  Aunt Megan was giving Ellie a searching look. ‘I must say, knowing how shy you are, Ellie, I can’t help wondering at your suggesting this.’

  Ellie swallowed. To be honest her strategy had been more along the lines of getting Aunt Megan to talk to Mrs Lloyd-Hughes while she looked on.

  ‘I’ll tell you what though,’ her aunt continued thoughtfully, ‘if you do agree to try to explain all this yourself to Mrs Lloyd-Hughes, I will take you to see her.’

  Ellie thought about how much the fairies needed her help. ‘OK,’ she said in a rush.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  She nodded, though she was already beginning to feel nervous.

  ‘You’ll never do it!’ David told her.

  ‘I don’t think that kind of reaction is very helpful, thank you,’ Aunt Megan said briskly. ‘Come on, Ellie, let’s go now before we change our minds, shall we?’

  Mrs Lloyd-Hughes’s house was much bigger than all the others in the village. It was next to the church, just like the fairies had said, but it was separated from it by a high wall.

  Ellie rang the bell and presently a thin grey-haired lady answered it, who turned out to be Mrs Lloyd-Hughes’s housekeeper. ‘Is she expecting you?’ the housekeeper wanted to know, when Ellie had mumbled her introduction.

  But before either Ellie or her aunt could answer a voice from inside the house called out crossly, ‘If I’ve a visitor, then for goodness sake show them in, will you? If it wasn’t for th
ese useless legs of mine I’d get up and answer the door myself!’

  The housekeeper kept a totally neutral expression on her face as she showed them into the living room and Ellie got the feeling she was used to Mrs Lloyd-Hughes being rude to her.

  The living room had a high ceiling, huge windows, a cream carpet, cream curtains and two huge cream sofas.

  ‘What a lovely room,’ Aunt Megan said politely.

  Mrs Lloyd-Hughes had snow-white hair and very dark eyes. She was seated in a high-backed cream armchair beside a massive fireplace.

  ‘Like it too, do you?’ she asked Ellie, who was staring around at the expensive-looking ornaments decorating the room.

  ‘Oh, y-yes,’ Ellie murmured, feeling herself flushing. She knew she ought to say more but her mouth had gone completely dry.

  Thankfully Aunt Megan spoke up. ‘Mrs Lloyd-Hughes, I don’t know if you remember me, but I think we’ve met a few times in church. I’m Megan Jones and this is my niece, Ellie.’

  ‘You seem a little familiar, though it’s a while since I’ve been to church. Tell me, what do you think of our new vicar?’

  ‘New vicar?’ Aunt Megan sounded surprised.

  ‘Oh, well, he must have been here ten years or so now, but he’s still an incomer as far as I’m concerned. He’s from North Wales, you know, though he tends to keep that quiet.’

  ‘He . . . err . . . seems very pleasant to me . . .’ Aunt Megan began, but the old lady didn’t seem to be listening.

  ‘The one before him – now he was a lovely fellow,’ she went on, ‘but the one before him was my favourite. He married my husband and me. A very cheery young man he was – made a change from the one before him, who was a terrible old miseryguts. They said it was because he’d lost his wife so young – she was in her twenties when she died, poor thing. I was only a child and I remember having to get a new black dress for the funeral. That vicar only ever preached doom and gloom in his sermons after that.’ She sighed. ‘Oh yes, when you’re eighty years old and you’ve lived in the same village all your life, you’ve seen a lot of vicars come and go.’