Hilary McKay

Caddy Ever After

The Lightning in the Shed (part three)
 
I went back to bed and thought about things.
  Nothing good.
  And I must have fallen asleep.
  I know I must have fallen asleep, because I remember dreaming. I dreamed that lorries were driving over the roof of the house, dragging huge chains behind them like snail trails. I could still hear them when I woke up. It sounded like thunder.
  It was thunder. And the rain was much harder now than it had been before. It was hitting my bedroom window with a rattle like stones, but I think it was the lightning that woke me up.   
  The lightning was so bright I could see the flashes with my eyes shut.
  And the power was off.
  And Saffy was at Sarah’s house.
  And Indigo would not wake up.
  And Mummy was asleep in the shed.

Afterwards Saffy gave me this earring that Miss Farley has not noticed yet, as a reward for my bravery in going to rescue Mummy from the lightning in the shed.
  Sometimes when people get rewards for bravery they say, ‘Oh I was not really brave. I do not deserve a reward. Anyone would have done the same.’
  But it was not like that for me. I was very brave. I think I did deserve a reward. Because it was very scary going downstairs in the dark to rescue Mummy, and as I crossed the living room floor my bare toe touched something warm and limp and furry and I saw by a flash of lightning that it was Joseph’s ghost.
  I rushed across the room to the kitchen, and then I crossed the kitchen and opened the back door. When I saw exactly what it was like outside I nearly didn’t go any further.
  But I did.
  When I went outside I was wearing
1. My pyjamas
2. Indigo’s denim jacket.
3. Saffy’s old trainers.
  I found the jacket and the trainers in the kitchen by lightning because the power was still off.
  There was no light on in the shed. I would have to wake Mummy up before I could rescue her.
  Outside the rain was so cold it hurt and the wind had gone mad and was blowing in four directions at once, tearing at Indigo’s jacket as if it knew he had not said I could wear it. But worst of all were Saffy’s trainers. They were so much too big that although I wanted more than anything to run, I had to walk quite slowly. Behind me the kitchen door banged shut. I wrapped my arms tight around myself and shuffled along the garden path.

  Mummy was not in the shed.
  The shed was just the same, with the canvases toppling against the walls, and jam jars full of paintbrushes, and the little yellow table with the kettle and the jar of instant coffee and the bag of guinea pig food. The pink sofa was there, with the old quilt Mummy brought back from India, but Mummy was not asleep on it.
  I thought of murderers at once and I shut my eyes very tightly in case there was blood.
  Then I opened them, and there was no blood.
  There is nowhere in the shed that anyone could hide except under the sofa, but there was no one under the sofa. I know because I checked.
  Anyone who checks under a sofa in a shed in a thunderstorm in the middle of the night for either
1. Their mother’s body.
or
2. Whoever got their mother.
  Is very brave indeed.
  That was me.
  After I had checked under the sofa I started looking round the shed for clues. It seemed to me that if Mummy was not in the shed, then someone or something must have got her. I could not rescue her if I did not know who, or what. That was why I looked for clues.
  The only thing different or new was the illuminated poem on the table. It was finished now, the colours, red and green and blue and gold, all very bright and clear. Mummy says when she does her decorated poems, ‘The trick is not to make them look like wall paper.’
  This one did not look like wall paper, but I did not look at it properly because I was having another horrible thought. I was thinking whoever (or whatever) got Mummy might now come back for me.
  In nearly no time at all I kicked off Saffy’s trainers and got out of that shed and back to the house.
  (This is still about why I fell asleep in class).
  I got back to the house, and that was the worst problem yet.
  The door was shut. I had heard it shut as I went to the shed, but I was concentrating so much on rescuing Mummy from the lightning and not falling over in Saffron’s trainers that I had not really noticed. The door has the sort of lock that locks itself when it shuts, and this had happened and I was locked out.
  Now the lightning was flashing so often that it was on more than it was off, and the thunder and the rain were stronger than ever, and I was locked out and I rang the doorbell and rang the doorbell and rang the doorbell and Indigo did not come.
  And then I remembered that it was an electric doorbell and so of course it was not working.
  How wrong I was to think that I was safe because all the terrible things happened to Kiran’s family.

The Lightning in the Shed (part four)

I had not stopped being brave yet (although I would have liked to). I had to decide what to do, and these were my choices.
1. Go back to the shed and wait for what ever got Mummy to come and get me.
2. Sit on the doorstep and wait for what ever got Mummy to come and get me OR to be struck by lightning.
3. Run for help to Sarah’s house.
  The trouble with running for help to Sarah’s house was that on the way I risked being got by what ever got Mummy AND being struck by lightning AND as well the way to Sarah’s house is past the park and the place where it says DANGER HIGH VOLTAGE and you are not allowed to go. And I had not forgotten that this was the place where the hand reached out. The hand that scorched the pink jacket of Kiran’s cousin who does not go to our school.
  But I could not bear to go back to the shed and it was terrible on the doorstep and I thought I might survive the journey to Sarah’s house because I can run very fast (only not in Saffron’s trainers).
  It takes about three minutes to walk to Sarah’s house, but if you run in bare feet in a thunder storm in the middle of the night with you-don’t-know what behind you and even worse in front it takes about a minute and a half. This is what I did, and I was past the place where it said DANGER HIGH VOLTAGE before I had hardly taken a breath.
  And then I could not help it. I looked back.
  There is a cherry tree just behind the DANGER HIGH VOLTAGE place, and its branches hang low over the pavement and one has been trimmed so that it looks just like a hand. A dark hand with bent fingers in thick leather gloves.
  But it was only a branch of cherry tree.
  Of course I shall not tell that to the Horror Club (which I intend to start as soon as possible).
  I shall say, ‘How lucky it is that I was wearing Indigo’s jacket which is blacky brown and does not show scorch marks.’
  And I shall not tell them that as soon as I knew Kiran’s cousin’s terrible hand was a branch of cherry tree I knew something else too.
  I knew where Mummy was.
  In bed.

Humans cannot fly, but they can get the flying feeling. All they need to do is go out at night into a wild storm where the thunder roars like applause and the lightning throws itself in daggers of light at your bare feet and you suddenly find you are not afraid.

Saffron and Sarah were not asleep. They were watching the storm from Sarah’s bedroom window and they saw me at once so that before I could reach the front door of the house it was open and Saffron and Sarah and Sarah’s parents too, were all pulling me inside.
  And I was quite right, Mummy was in bed. Sarah’s mother rang up and found out.
  Then everyone had hot chocolate except Sarah’s father (who had whisky) and I had a hot bath too. And afterwards Saffron and Sarah put me to bed in the hammock. You have to be put to bed in a hammock. It is impossible to do it yourself, but it is lovely when you are in.
  Sarah’s mother turned the light off and she said,  ‘You are my favourite guest, Rose, but it is after three o’clock in the morning. I will make you pancakes for breakfast if you go to sleep this second WITH NO MORE FUSS.’

So I did. 

Caddy Ever After © Hilary McKay, 2006. Published by Hodder Children’s Books.