**The Bluebells**
Emily and her mum missed the tram by just a couple of steps. The old carriage clattered away from the stop, leaving them to wait at least fifteen minutes.
Youre always dawdling! Mum sighed. How many times have I told youhang your coat neatly, put your shoes away when you get back from nursery, so we dont waste time later. And why on earth did you need those crayons? Couldnt you manage without them for one evening?
Mum! I promised Sophie yesterday! You always say if you make a promise, you have to keep it! Emily gave her a sly squint. Right?
Well yes. But now weve missed the tram! Ive got the night shift, your dress still needs ironing, and I havent even started dinner or packed your lunch. Whos going to do all that? Granny Mabel?
Dont worry, Mum. Itll all work outjust dont get cross. Granny Mabel says that all the time. Oh! Look, Mum! Flowers! What are they called? On the bench lay a tiny, wilting bouquet.
Bluebells. They grow in the woods. Someone mustve picked them, then tossed them aside. Or forgot them.
Mum, theyre so pretty! Lets take them home!
As if we need more clutter Fine, take them. But hurryour trams coming.
All the way home, Emily clutched the bouquet. The stems were broken, the petals crumpled, but to her, they were the most beautiful flowerspale violet, with the faintest sweet scent, like something out of a fairy tale. A man on the tram said if she planted them, theyd come back to life. A pregnant woman shook her head firmly: No soil. Just water. Only water. Another passenger hissed as she left, Nonsense! Shouldve bought carnations instead. Mum stared out the window, while Emily sniffed the flowers and whispered, When we get home, Ill hide you. Then let them say whatever they like!
Emily and her mum lived on the second floor. Below them were Granny Mabel and her husband, whom everyone respectfully called Mr. Albert, though Emily called him Grandad Bert. Granny Mabel and Grandad Bert werent familyjust neighboursbut they were closer than relatives. Granny helped with chores, and Grandad fixed anything brokendoors, locks, you name it. If Mum needed help baking or someone to walk Emily to nursery, Granny stepped in. They never asked for help themselves, insisting they had everything they needed.
Under their balcony grew a lilac bushand beneath it, Emilys secret spot. A hidden little place no one was meant to know about. (Though, truth be told, Grandad Bert and Granny Mabel knew. They just kept quiet. Otherwise, where was the fun in secrets?)
From the tram stop, Emily skipped ahead, desperate to get home. She needed water, soilsomething to save her bluebells before they died, like that woman had said. While Mum cooked and ironed, Emily dug a hole under the lilac with a trowel, planted the flowers, and watered them. But they didnt perk up. Maybe theyre still sleeping, she thought. Ill just tuck you in, then see Mum off to work and come back, okay?
After dinner, Emily washed up and rushed back to her bluebells, forgetting Sophies crayons entirely. The sun had set, dusk draping the town in grey. Granny Mabel was about to fetch Emilywhenever Mum worked nights, Emily stayed with thembut Grandad Bert gestured from the balcony. There, crouched by her secret spot, Emily was crying. The bluebells lay wilted in a puddle.
Granny slipped outside and crept over. Whats wrong, love?
Granny, they wont wake up! I gave them so much water, but they just lie there! Are they dead?
Oh, petal, theyre just poorly. All picked flowers get poorly.
I didnt pick them! Someone left them on the bench.
Ah, well. Heres what well do. Ive got some magic powder somewhere. Wait here.
Granny returned with a matchbox of flour. There now. Only a pinch left, but itll do. She sprinkled it over the flowers, murmuring, *Magic old wife, magic old man, bring joy for yearsif you can!* Then she dusted the rest around the puddle. There. Now they need rest. The magic will work.
Is it really magic?
Cross my heart.
When will they wake up?
Well see in the morning. Off to bed now.
Emily sighed, gave her bluebells one last worried look, and followed Granny inside.
She was fast asleep when Grandad Bert grunted his way onto the balcony, hauling his old bicycle.
Bert, did you pack the torch?
Course I did!
And the trowel?
Wouldnt forget that!
Ive filled the thermos with tea.
Tea? Im not going on a picnic!
Just in case you tire.
Ill be quick. You did pack the tarp?
Yes, yes. Go on, thenand mind youre back soon.
Grandad wheeled the bike out quietly, and Granny tiptoed back to bed.
At dawn, Emily woke with the sparrows. Barefoot in her pyjamas, she dashed to her secret spotand gasped. Where the puddle had been, a cluster of fresh bluebells swayed. She bent to sniff them, stroking their delicate heads, whispering sweet nothings.
From the balcony, Grandad Bert and Granny Mabel watched, smiling. And reallywho was happier? Emily with her magic flowers, or the two whod made sure she believed?
