In the attic

The fresh topic of discussion at school had moved from Miss Harris's bird's nest hair do to the cool new website that took photos of your street. All day kids were logging on, checking out the streets of Bickertown.
Tyler was desperate to check out his house, to show off his parent's palacial pad. But his pleas to the kids in the locker room to look at his laptop were drowned out by the guffaws coming from the crowd surrounding Gavin Baxter.
"It's Mickey Finn," said one kid. "On Morrison Street."
"Who's he snoggin'?" said another.
"I reckon it's Penny. She's the only girl I know that piles her hair on her head like a pineapple."
Tyler left the locker room during the chorus of snickers.
When he got home that afternoon the nagging curiosity of seeing his house online drew him to log onto his computer. He entered his address, clicked the mouse and up popped an image of the outside of his house. But the novelty of the innovation quickly wore off when, on closer inspection, he saw a face in the attic window that didn't belong to any of his family.

The face in the window

Bebe's only company was the face in her bedroom window. It was never there during the day, it only appeared at night. Wispy and faint and with pigtails like hers, it spoke to her, with a warm, strawberry smile. It told her tales of life on the high seas, made her laugh with jokes and entertained her with magic tricks. It sped up time, filling the lonely gaps in her solitary life whilst her mother cocooned her in the house.
"Protection from the wicked world," her mother said.
She was happy there, with all she knew, until one day her mother forgot to lock her bedroom door.
A gust of wind, that blew up from the floor below whistled down the corridor and clicked her bedroom door open.
Bebe was too curious to stay inside, yet apprehensive of what lay beyond her world.
She tiptoed to the door, not wanting to stir what lay on the other side and found herself in a long room with steps that led down. The room was lit with flickering lights on the wall and was as sparsely furnished as her plain room. There was only a table, a little way in front of her, and what looked like a window on the wall above it. But it was a strange window. It's frame was oval and rolled in gold.
And when she approached it the face in her window appeared before her.
"Emmy!" she said, delightedly at the smiling face staring back at her.
"You're looking at your reflection," snorted her mother, from the stairs.

Curiosity killed the cat

Janie Johns had always been far to nosy for her own good. When told not to do something, she always did the opposite, like the time Mickey Grayling in Year 1 told her about Mr Vincent's back garden cemetary-or what he believed was a cemetary. Janie just couldn't help herself. She had to take a look. She had to be the one to prove the rumours. True, or false, the outcome didn't matter.
That time she got away with it, but her luck was about to run out.
It had been a while since she visited her Great Aunt Violet. Janie didn't do relations, but as she was on her death bed Janie's mother dragged Janie along for her last visit.
While she was there she overheard her Great Aunt talking to her mother.
"There's something I need you to do, Flora," croaked Aunt Violet. "There's something in the attic I need you to get. I need you to destroy it. It's important."
Janie could tell Aunt Violet was anxious. Her desperate, spluttered speech, her deeply wrinkled frown. Whatever was up there Janie wanted to see it before her mother did.
She listened closer.
"Of course, Violet, anything," replied her mother.
"Jig Saw," were the last words Aunt Violet uttered before her last gasp of breath.
Janie ran upstairs, choosing to find what she shouldn't rather than console her whimpering mother.
She crept up the wooden ladder and flipped over the attic hatch.
There lying on the floor of the empty attic, bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun, streaming in through the window, was a flat box. Janie brushed the dust from the cover.
'Jig Saw', were the words fainted scribed on the box.
"Why was she so worked up about this?" Janie crowed as she prised off the lid. "It's just a box, full of bits of jigsaw."
Janie tipped them up onto the dusty attic floor, but as she tried to sort them out, flipping each one over to its picture side, she noticed that all the pieces were blank.
"That's weird," she said and tried to clip two together.
As the pieces interlocked part of a picture formed on the surface of both of them.
"Wow," Janie gasped. "It must be magic."
Eagerly, Janie put the pieces together, matching the shapes as best she could. As she did the picture took shape in front of her eyes.
She couldn't tell what it was a first as the colours were too muted-soft browns, tans, creams and oranges, blending in with each other. But working her way from the edge of the jigsaw inwards she noticed the picture forming was of an empty room. The lower half of a person was next to form-a person crouched with their back towards her. Above the person was a shiny object, curved and sharp, glinting in the sunlight.
As Janie's mother called to her from below Janie shakily placed the last two pieces of the jigsaw and realised to her horror, it was a picture of her in the attic.

Elspeth's revenge (part 2-end)

Angelina put her arm round Elspeth’s shoulder making her feel instantly more relaxed and safe.
The room was exactly what Angelina said it was going to be, quiet. It was tucked some distance from the main kitchen so the noise of shouting voices and clanking of pots and pans had become a faint mumble.
“Well first things first. I think we should put Molly up on this shelf. Otherwise she’ll get covered in flour, butter and chocolate chips.”
Elspeth giggled at the thought of her dolly made to look like a cookie and handed the doll to Angelina.
“Next we have to get the ingredients,” she announced as she walked into a dark little room of to the side. Moments later she returned clutching packets of flour, baking powder, butter, brown sugar, a jar of honey, an egg, a small bottle of vanilla essence and assorted packets of milk, plain, white and multi-coloured chocolate chips and plopped them onto the chrome work surface.
“Now, we need to weigh out 6oz of flour,” Angelina said as she grabbed a large metal weighing scale. “Here, you can do the honours for me. You need to put the flour in that tray there until this little arm comes to this marker,” she continued, pointing to the dial on the face of the scale.
Elspeth did as Angelina asked as watched the little arm carefully as it rose up towards the marker.
“How’s that?” Elspeth said proudly.
“Excellent job. Now tip it into the bowl and do the same with the butter and the sugar but we only need 4oz each of those, so the arm should come to there. Okay?”
“Yep,” Elspeth replied, opened the bag of sugar and poured it into the tray, concentrating so hard her tongue poked out of the side of her mouth. When she’d weighed out the sugar she poured it into the bowl and did the same with the butter.
“You know when mum and dad come back I’m going to ask if you can come to dad’s dinner party.”
“Are you sure you’re allowed to invite staff to that. I’m sure its bound to be a very posh affair.”
“No, not as a guest, silly. To help. You could carry those large plates they have with the can of peas on them.”
“Don’t you mean canapés?
“That’s what I said. Can of peas, silly, you’re not listening.”
“I’m sorry. But anyway helping isn’t nearly as good as being a guest.”
“But you’re not royalty or even important. You can’t expect to go if you’re not royal or important. It’s not allowed.”
“I suppose you’re right but it’s the only way of really enjoying a party. If you’ve been invited I mean,” Angelina said as she measured out two tablespoons of honey and two of baking powder and added them to the bowl along with a pinch of salt, a dash of vanilla essence, a whisked egg and a packet of milk chocolate chips. “Now we mix it all together,” she continued. “So have you been to any of these parties yourself?”
“Oh no. I’m much to young. They don’t let me. But I did sneak downstairs one night when dad had invited guests. I watched them from the bottom of the stairs. They’d all been drinking that red berry juice and were making a lot of noise. Singing loudly and out of tune and dancing about. Well, I think they we’re meant to be dancing. They were wobbly about like this,” Elspeth explained as she held her arms out and wobbled on her legs as though they were made of jelly. “Then mum saw me and came rushing over. Her eyes looked all glassy and she had a big grin on her face. And she called over someone she called the ‘Pry Minstrel’.”
“I think you mean Prime Minister.”
“That’s what I said. Anyway, he bowed at me and I felt very important.”
“Did you now?” Angelina replied, biting her lip as a little snigger escaped her lips. “Okay, I think this is sufficiently mixed up. Now we need to put it on the tray.”
Angelina showed Elspeth how to plop the mixture onto the baking tray to cook, and as Elspeth continued she made up a fresh batch of cookies with plain chocolate chips, then another with white chocolate chips and the last with the multi-coloured chips.
“There, all done. Now we pop them in the oven and wait till they’re cooked.”
Elspeth clapped her hands with glee.
“Now for the fairy cakes,” Angelina said walking over to the store cupboard again.
Elspeth watched as Angelina disappeared into the darkness. She half wanted to follow her, curious to see what it was like inside with all the packets and boxes and jars and bottles, but after the time she hid in Sophie’s wardrobe to spy on her sister and accidentally jammed the door shut, she was a little apprehensive. So she waited until Angelina emerged clutching more ingredients.
By the time they’d weighed and stirred the mixture, ready to go into baking trays that had little wells sunk into them, a loud buzzing sounded. It took Elspeth by surprise and she jumped in the air and clasped her hands round her ears.
“It’s okay,” Angelina reassured as she reached for the oven gloves. “It’s only the cooker. It means our cookies are ready.”
She pulled out the trays and put the fairy cakes in the oven to cook and busily showed Elspeth how to make the buttercream mixture that went on top.
When the buzzer on the cooker went a second time Elspeth knew exactly what it meant and instead of jumping in alarm she dashed to the oven, and eagerly waited for Angelina to bring them out.
“They look really tasty,” she said, her mouth watering as the smell of warm, sweet sponge wafted in the air.
“Now we have to cut the tops of, put the buttercream on top and then,” Angelina said as she showed Elspeth what she meant. “We cut the tops in half, like so, and put them on top of the buttercream like this, so they look like little wings. And there we have a fairy cake.”
“Wow. They look really pretty. Let me do some.”
Half an hour later they were finished, exhausted and covered in flour, cream and butter. Elspeth laughed at her reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall above the sink. She had a dollop of buttercream on the tip of her nose, a dusting of flour in her hair, and chocolate round her mouth after she’d slyly guzzled one of the freshly cooked cookies.
“I think we should take these up to Sophie’s room, with some lemonade,” Angelina announced.
“Perfect,” Elspeth chimed with a broad grin.
When they reached Sophie’s room, Elspeth grabbed a table and laid the cookies, fairy cakes, three glasses and the bottle of lemonade on the table whilst Angelina kept watch by the door to see if Sophie was approaching. No sooner had Elspeth finished than Angelina rushed in.
“She’s coming!”
Elspeth spun round the table and rushed towards the door just as Sophie was about to enter her bedroom.
“Close your eyes, close your eyes!”
“Why? What have you done? I might have guessed it, Elspeth. Just because I wouldn’t let you come with me you decided to trash my room. Well if anything’s broken you going to get it.”
“Close your eyes, please Sophie!”
“Fine. Okay. Whatever.”
“Now come this way,” Elspeth said as she grabbed her sister’s arm and dragged her across the room so abruptly it was a wonder her sister didn’t trip over herself. But Elspeth was too excited to care what she was doing. She just wanted to show her sister what she’d done.
“Now you can open your eyes,” Elspeth said clapping her hands with glee.
She looked up at her sister who clasped her hands together as though in prayer and held them to her lips. She didn’t utter a word.
Elspeth’s heart began to sink, thinking her sister didn’t like what she’d done.
Sophie walked up to the table, with Elspeth close to her side never taking her eyes of her sister’s face, eagerly awaiting a reaction.
“Is this for me?” Sophie said softly as the corners of her mouth rose to a gentle smile.
Elspeth nodded with delight.
“You made these?” Sophie asked pointing to the cookies and fairy cakes on the table.
“With a little help from my new friend, Angelina,” Elspeth replied pointing to Angelina who stood as inconspicuously as she could by the bedroom door. “We’ve been in the kitchen all day making them. See there are fairy cakes and cookies, some with plain chocolate, some with white and some multi-coloured but we made most of them with milk chocolate as I know you like them best.”
Elspeth’s tone suddenly changed when she remembered how she’d started the day, before Angelina had suggested baking, and suddenly felt pangs of guilt in the pit of her stomach. Tears welled in her eyes and her lower lip quivered as she burst out crying and threw her arms around her sister’s waist, burying her head in the folds of her dress.
“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” Sophie said sympathically.
But Elspeth didn’t answer. She clung onto her sister as though her life depended on it, refusing to let go. Finally, she lifted her head up, her eyes stinging from the tears and summoned the courage to confess to her sister.
“I was going to break all your dolls. Once you’d left I pulled them all off the shelf and started pulling their arms and legs off. I would have carried on too if it wasn’t for Angelina.”
“Well you didn’t. So there’s no harm done,” Sophie said bending down to kiss the top of her sister’s head. “Why don’t you invite your friend to join us? Seeing as she made these too I think it’s only fair she gets to enjoy them.”
Elspeth lifted her head, smiled and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her dress before looking towards the door where Angelina was stood, but there was no-one there.
“She’s gone!” Elspeth cried and rushed to the door to look up and down the corridor, but she’d gone.
“She must have gone back to the kitchens, Elspeth. Don’t worry.”
Solemnly, Elspeth walked back to the table and half-heartedly munched on one of the fairy cakes, getting the tip of her nose covered in buttercream in the process but not caring in the slightest.
“This was my revenge, you know?”
“Revenge? Was it really?” Sophie said sinking her teeth into the largest milk chocolate chip cookie she could find. “Well if that’s the case then I’m going to have to leave you more often.”
Elspeth glowered at her.
“Only kidding, sis!” Sophie said and wiped the buttercream from Elspeth’s nose.

Elspeth's revenge (part 1)

It started of as being a pretty uneventful week for Elspeth. Her parents, the King and Queen, had left days earlier leaving her and her elder sister, Sophie, in the care of their Nanny and Tutor, Delilah. Elspeth didn’t care much for Delilah. She hated the fact that she would wake her at the crack of dawn each day for reading, writing, sums and tests. It was all boring and pointless she thought and resented it all the more when the sun shone brilliantly outside and all she wanted to do was get out there and play with their dogs, pick flowers and make daisy chains. So it was extremely fortunate for her when one morning Delilah tripped down the grand staircase and broke both her legs leaving her and her sister in the care of the servants.
For Elspeth and Sophie this was the most perfect situation they could ever have imagined they’d be in; their parents were away, their guardian incarcerated in the local hospital and a huge Palace to explore at their leisure.
“Seeing as mum and dad are away for a while now is the perfect opportunity for some exploration,” Sophie said delightedly as she added the Greek doll her mother had brought back from her recent trip, to her collection on the shelf above her bed.
“That sounds like a fab idea. I’m coming too,” Elspeth said jumping up and down in excitement.
“You can’t,”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m the eldest so I’m in charge and I say that you should stay here and finish your homework. I’m going to explore the North Tower. Mum and Dad never let us go up there and I want to know why,” Sophie demanded.
“That’s not fair. I want to see the North Tower too.”
“Well you can’t. You’re too young and it might be dangerous so you’ll just have to stay.”
“You can’t make me Sophie and if you do I’ll tell mum on you.”
“And if you tell mum on me I’ll tell her who broke her precious china hand mirror. You know, the one with the roses on the edges.”
“I didn’t mean to break it. I just wanted to look at it. That’s all,” Elspeth huffed.
“Well then you’d best keep quiet hadn’t you,” Sophie said pointedly and waltzed out of the room.
Elspeth couldn’t believe the nerve of her sister. ‘How come she gets to go and I don’t. It’s not fair,’ she thought and folded her arms, screwed up her face and proceeded to kick anything across the floor that was in reach of her foot.
While teddy bears, dolls and plastic horses flew across the room Elspeth failed to notice a young palace maid, had entered and was standing in the doorway, nervously awaiting a moment to address the little princess.
“Excuse me, my lady,” the young maid said. “Can I be of service to you?
“No,” she snapped. “Unless you can get me another sister.”
The maid paused, unsure how to answer her, or if she should answer her at all. After what seemed like an eternity she cautiously asked:
“Are you not happy with the one you have?”
“No,” she snapped again, louder. The sharpness in her tone made the maid jump. “What’s your name anyway?”
“Angelina, my lady.”
“How old are you, Angelina?” she enquired as she stopped kicking toys around, reached for her sister’s collection of dolls on the shelf and began to pull the heads, legs and arms of them.
“Eighteen, my lady,”
“Do you want to be my new sister?” she asked, smiling with delight at how
easy it was to decapitate them.
“I don’t think your mum and dad would like that too much?”
“Why not? You’re much prettier than her and I bet you’d be a better sister. She’s always bossing me around. I never get to have any fun,” she huffed as she reached for a blue felt tip pen and began drawing glasses and bushy moustaches on the decapitated dolls’ heads.
“May I ask what are you doing?”
“Destroying all Sophie’s toys,” she said bluntly as though it should have been obvious to Angelina. “She wouldn’t let me go with her to investigate the North Tower. I wanted to. I wanted to so much. Nasty, evil, horrid sister. She said it was too dangerous and I should stay here finish my homework. But I’ll show her. I’ll show here good and proper. When she comes back and sees these she’s be sorry she didn’t take me with her. Anyway it’s none of your business. I can do what I want.”
“I suppose you can but don’t you think that revenge is a little wicked and spiteful?” the maid protested.
“Raven-jar?” said Elspeth, frowning with confusion. “What kind of word is that?”
“No, not raven-jar. Rev-enge,” Angelina explained, saying the word slowly so Elspeth could understand.
“Well, whatever. She’s got it coming to her. She knew I’d be annoyed she left me, so there.”
“Well if that’s the case then she knows that you’re going to do something to get her back right?”
“Suppose so, yeah,” Elspeth muttered.
“So why don’t you do something that she won’t expect you to do.”
Elspeth thought for a moment or two. She looked up at the dolls on the shelf that were yet to be dismembered and back at the maid.
“What did you have in mind?” she asked curious to know what could possibly be more gratifying than destroying her sister’s prized collection of dolls.
“Well we could start by putting all the legs and arms back on the right dolls,” Angelina said.
“What!” Elspeth said glowering at Angelina.
“Then we’ll clean up the dolls’ faces,” Angelina continued ignoring Elspeth’s outburst.
Elspeth frowned at Angelina, perplexed.
“Then,” Angelina continued. “We’ll put them in a nice orderly fashion back on your sister’s shelf.”
“That won’t annoy her at all. That’s too nice.”
“Won’t it?” Angelina said innocently. “Then after that we’ll go down to the kitchen and make her a nice batch of chocolate chip cookies, buttercream fairy cakes, and fresh lemonade.”
Elspeth stared as Angelina began to pick up the arms, legs and heads that were strewn across the room and sorted them into piles according to which legs matched and which arms matched. She was rather confused as to why being nice to her sister would irritate her but when she thought of melt in the mouth cookies and soft cream and sponge it tantalised her taste buds and made her mouth water and pretty soon she’d forgotten what she’d been doing and could only think of eating sweet treats.
“Can we put different chocolate chips in the cookies? I mean white ones and plain ones and different coloured ones?” she said her eyes gleaming with excitement.
“Certainly. What flavour of chocolate chip does Sophie like the most?”
“Milk chocolate.”
“Okedoke. We’ll make an extra large batch of milk chocolate chip cookies.”
“And can we draw smiley faces on them, with icing?” she added with delight.
“Of course we can.”
Elspeth clapped her hands with excitement as she followed Angelina along the wide, polished floored, corridor that always had a pungent smell of lemon furniture polish that made her scrunch her nose up in repulsion.
Down the grand staircase they both descended until they reached the main hallway where they doubled backed to a door that didn’t look like a door at all. It looked as though it was part of the wall as the top half was papered in the deep red swirling patterned wallpaper and the bottom half was dark wood panelling, just like the wall. Angelina pushed it open, and Elsepth’s eyes widened. She was itching to see what lay beyond the door. But was rather disappointed with what she saw. It was nothing like the rest of the Palace. It was cold and dark and smelt musty, like mould and earth. The walls were bare bricks, with no paint or pictures to adorn it, and the floor was made of horrid grey concrete.
She followed Angelina down a flight of steps where the sound of voices echoed and musty smell had been replaced with the sweet smell of roasted potatoes, gravy, pork and apple sauce. ‘I must be near the kitchen,’ she thought. Usually she would never have been allowed anywhere near the kitchen let alone allowed inside to make cookies and cakes, but as her mum and dad were away there was no-one to say no to her.
“I wish mum and dad would go away more often,” she said casually. “This is fun. Sophie is going to be so jealous when she finds out where I’ve been. What do you think Molly?” she said to the tatty, knitted dolly clutched in her hands.
“I’ve noticed you always seem to be carrying that dolly around with you,” Angelina enquired. “It’s filthy. Why don’t you wash it?”
“Mum’s always telling me to get it washed. She said she’s going to take it one day when I’m not looking and send it down to the laundry room. I told her she couldn’t do that because then it wouldn’t smell the same and I like the way it smells. So I carry it around with me all the time cos that way if I have it she can’t take it away. Right?”
Angelina nodded and chuckled at her as she pushed the swing door into the kitchen narrowly avoiding knocking one of the butlers who was stood on the other side talking to a chef.
Elspeth was a little afraid to go into the kitchen at first. It was a very stark looking place, all white tiles and chrome, and very noisy too. Lots of people dressed head to foot in white clothes, some stained with food, shouted at one another, which made Elspeth think that they may shout at her for being there when she wasn’t supposed to be.
“It’s okay,” Angelina said soothingly. “You can come in. We’ll go into the little workroom round the side. They usually use it to make little sweets and stuff but not today. It’ll be quiet round there.”

The last message

Vicky lay awake in her bed, staring up at the velvet black sky through the crack in her curtains. She couldn't sleep. Her mind was replaying the day's event over and over again like a movie on loop.
The image of the deep ravine, her foot slipping off the edge, flashed across her mind's eye. "I can't believe she's gone," she muttered as a lone tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm sorry, Beth."
She reached her hand, bloody and grazed, across her duvet and plucked Jasper the bear from the within the pile of teddys on her bed. She stared at his threadbare face and deep into his scuffed, black, glassy eyes.
"I'm glad to be back, Jasper. I'll never leave you," she said and stuffed Jasper under her duvet, clamping it close to her chest.
As she snuggled under her duvet she spotted a fresh bunch of flowers on her bedside table and a message card resting against the vase.
The card read, "Best friends forever. I'll miss you loads. Love Beth."

Making hay

Tilly almost didn't recognise the withered, grey form that was her Grammy laying on the bed in the sitting room. The last time she saw her was two months ago. Grammy said she was going into hospital "for a little bit". But now Tilly was confused.
"Mum," Tilly whispered. "I thought people went into hospital to get better. Grammy doesn't look well at all."
When Tilly's mum didn't answer Tilly looked up at her. Her mum was biting her lower lip and her eyes were glazed and red.
"Just go and sit with Grammy, Tilly. She wants to talk to you," said her mum, resting her hand on Tilly's shoulder, gently ushering her over to her grandmother.
Tilly was reluctant at first. The woman in the bed wasn't the grammy she knew. For a start she was grey in colour, her cheeks were sunken and her skin was even more wrinkly than before. But more disturbing was Grammy's bald head and the blonde curly wig placed over a polystyrene head on the beside table. This wasn't the smiley, energetic Grammy she knew.
"Tilly," Grammy croaked from the bed. "Come over here, sweetheart."
Tilly crouched down beside her grandmother, trying to smile through the smell of stale sweat and disinfectant.
"Hi Grammy," Tilly said, reaching out her hand tentatively to her grandmother's.
"Your mother tells me you've been a good girl, since I last saw you."
Tilly mustered a sheepish smile. She knew that wasn't entirely true but realised it was a well-intentioned white lie.
"I'm glad. Because I have something for you," Grammy said reaching across to open the draw of her bedside table.
Tilly watched her grandmother's slender hand pull out a silver locket.
"This is for you," she said, dropping the locket into Tilly's hand. "This will give you all you need to see you through your life."
"What do you mean?" asked Tilly.
"There is nothing that can save me now," whispered her Grandmother. "So I'm passing my luck onto you. Do you know the myth that cats have nine lives?"
Tilly nodded.
"Well humans do as well. In fact with the right help humans can have any number of lives. I have lived many, over thousands of years. But I'm weary now. I see in you a lot of me when I was your age. Your strength, your courage, your wit," she said with a throaty chuckle. "I'm now passing that gift to you. Your essence will live on, from one body to another. You will live a thousand lives so make hay whilst the sun shines," she continued before taking a deep gasp, falling back against the pillow and closing her eyes.
Tilly stared down at the locket in her hand, unable to comprehend what her Grammy had just told her, and unaware of what was about to befall her.