Emily and her mum missed the tram by just a few steps. The old carriage clattered away from the stop, leaving them to wait at least fifteen minutes.
“Honestly, youre always dawdling!” her mum sighed. “How many times have I told you? When you come back from nursery, hang your coat up neatly, put your shoes awaythen we wouldnt waste time rushing. And why did you have to dig out those crayons? Couldnt you manage without them?”
“Mum! Dont you get it? I promised Sophie yesterday! And you always say if you make a promise, you have to keep it!” Emily grinned cheekily. “Right?”
“Well I did say that. But now weve missed the tram! Ive got night shift, your dress still needs ironing, and I havent even sorted dinner or breakfast yet. Whos going to do it all? Granny Edith?”
“Mummy, dont worry. Itll be fine, just dont get cross. Granny Edith always says that. Oh! Look, Mumflowers! What are they called?” On the bench lay a little wilting bouquet.
“Bluebells. They grow in the woods. Someone mustve picked them, then tossed them aside. Or forgot them.”
“Mummy, theyre so pretty! Can we take them?”
“Honestly, more rubbish to carry Fine, take them, but hurryour trams coming.”
All the way home, Emily clutched the bouquet tight. The stems were bent, the petals crumpled, but to her, they were the loveliest flowers in the world. Soft violet-blue with the faintest sweet scent, they seemed magical, like something from a fairy tale. A man on the tram said if she planted them, they might come back to life. A pregnant woman shook her head firmly. “No, nothey need water, only water!” Another lady sniffed as she stepped off, muttering, “Silly nonsense. Shouldve bought proper flowers.” Emilys mum just stared out the window, while Emily whispered to the blooms, “Dont worry. Soon as were home, Ill hide you. Then let them say what they like!”
Emily and her mum lived on the second floor. Below them were Granny Edith and her husband, whom everyone respectfully called “Mr. Albert,” though Emily called him “Grandad Bert.” It had just stuck. They werent actually familyjust neighbours. But they were closer than some relatives. Granny Edith helped with chores; Grandad Bert fixed thingsloose cupboard doors, jammed locks. If Emily needed a lift to nursery or someone to taste-test a cake, Granny was there. They never asked for help themselvesinsisted they could manage. Thats just how they were.
Under their balcony grew a lilac bush, and beneath it lay Emilys secret spota hidden little place nobody was meant to know about. (Though Grandad Bert and Granny Edith knew, of course. They just played along, because whats a secret if everyone knows?)
From the tram stop, Emily raced ahead, desperate to get her bluebells into water. Maybe even plant themthat lady had said they needed soil. While her mum cooked and ironed, Emily scooped out a hole under the lilac, tucked the flowers in, and sprinkled them with water. They didnt perk up. “Must still be sleepy,” she decided. “Ill check after I see Mum off.”
After dinner, she dashed back to her secret spot. The sun had dipped below the rooftops, and dusk draped the town like a grey blanket. Granny Edith was about to fetch Emily for bedtime when Grandad Bert waved her over. On tiptoe, they peered down. There sat Emily, crying over a puddle of limp bluebells.
Granny slipped outside, creeping around the lilac. “Whats wrong, love?”
“Granny! They wont wake up!” Emily sniffled. “I gave them loads of water, but theyre just lying there! Are they dead?”
“Oh, petal, notheyre poorly, thats all. Flowers always sicken when theyre picked.”
“But I didnt pick them! Someone left them behind!”
“Well, there we are. Dont fretIve got just the thing.” She hurried inside, scooped flour into a matchbox, and returned. “Magic flower powder. Nearly ran out, but thisll do.” She dusted the bluebells, murmuring, “Winds whisper, sun shines bright, bring these blooms back to life tonight!” Then scattered the rest around the puddle. “There. Now they need rest. The magic will work while you sleep.”
“Really truly magic?”
“Cross my heart. Well check come morning. Now, off to bed.”
Emily cast one last worried glance at her flowers and followed Granny inside.
Long after shed drifted off, Grandad Bert hauled his old bicycle onto the pavement.
“Got your torch, Bert?”
“Course I have!”
“Trowel?”
“Wouldnt forget that!”
“Ive packed tea in the flask.”
“What for? Its not an expedition!”
“Just in case. And dont linger in the woodsIll fret.”
“Wont be long. Did you wrap it?”
“Yes, yes. Go on, thenquick as you can.”
At dawn, Emily bolted outside in her pyjamas. And there, where the sad little puddle had been, stood a cluster of fresh bluebells, nodding in the breeze. She stroked their petals, whispering sweet nothings, while up on the balcony, Granny Edith and Grandad Bert watched, smiling.
Hard to say who was happierEmily with her “magic” flowers, or the two of them, whod made sure they bloomed.
