The Fairy Doll Read Free Page B

take your own bus money,’ said Josie.
    ‘Run to the shop,’ said Mother, ‘and get me a mop and a packet of matches, a pot of strawberry jam, half a pound of butter, and a pound of ginger nuts.’
    ‘What have you brought?’ she asked when Elizabeth came back.
    ‘A pound of ginger nuts, half a pound of butter, a pot of strawberry jam, a packet of matches, and a mop,’ said Elizabeth, counting them out.
    ‘But you still can’t ride the bicycle,’ said Josie.
    It grew hot. Fairy Doll had a nasturtium leaf for a sunshade, and Elizabeth made her a poppy doll. To make a poppy doll you turn the petals back and tie them down with a grass blade for a sash;
the middle of the poppy makes the head, with the fuzz for hair, and for arms you take a bit of poppy stalk and thread it through under the petals; then the poppy doll is complete, except that it
has only one leg. Perhaps that was why Fairy Doll did not play with hers.
    Something was the matter with Fairy Doll; her dress had become a little draggled and dirty after all these months, but it was more than that; her wings looked limp, the wand in her hand was
still.

    Something was the matter in Elizabeth too; the bell did not say, ‘Ting’ any more in her head. ‘Dull, dull, dull,’ it said.
    ‘Dull?’ asked Elizabeth.
    ‘Dull. Dull. Dull.’ It was more like a drum than a bell.
    ‘Does it mean Fairy Doll is dull with me?’ asked Elizabeth.
    She felt sad; then she felt ashamed.
    A fairy likes flying. Naturally. If you had wings you would like flying too. Sometimes Elizabeth would hold Fairy Doll up in the air and run with her; then the wings would lift, the wand would
wave, the gauze dress fly back, but Elizabeth was too plump to run for long.

    ‘I’ll put her on my bicycle and fly her,’ Godfrey offered.
    ‘You mustn’t touch her,’ cried Elizabeth.
    ‘Well, fly her yourself,’ said Godfrey, offended, and he rode off.
    ‘Fly her yourself.’ ‘Ting’ went the bell, and it was a bell, not a drum. ‘Ting. Ting. Fly. Fly.’ So that was what Fairy Doll was wishing!
Elizabeth went slowly into the garage and looked at the pale blue, still brand-new bicycle.
    ‘It doesn’t hurt so much to fall off in summer as in winter,’ said Elizabeth, but her voice trembled. Her fingers trembled too, as she tied Fairy Doll onto
the handlebars.
    Then Elizabeth put her foot on the pedal. ‘Push. Pedal, pedal,’ she said and shut her eyes, but you cannot ride even the smallest bicycle with your eyes shut.

    She had to open them, but it was too late to stop. The drive from the garage led down a slope to the gate, and ‘Ting,’ away went the bicycle with Elizabeth on it. For a moment she
wobbled; then she saw the silver wings filling and thrilling as they rushed through the air, and the wand blew round and round. ‘Pedal. Pedal, pedal.’ It might have been Christabel
talking, but it was not. ‘Pedal.’ Elizabeth’s hair was blown back, the wind rushed past her; she felt she was flying too; she came to the gate and fell off. ‘Ow!’
groaned Elizabeth, but she had flown. She knew what Fairy Doll wanted. Her leg was bleeding, but she turned the bicycle round to start off down the drive again.
    Elizabeth was late for tea.
    ‘What have you been doing?’ asked Christabel. ‘There’s no jam left.’ But Elizabeth did not care.
    ‘You’ve torn your frock. All the buns are gone,’ said Godfrey, but Elizabeth did not care.
    ‘You’re all over scratches and dust,’ said Josie. ‘We’ve eaten the cake.’ But Elizabeth still did not care.
    ‘Well, where have you been?’ asked Mother.
    Elizabeth answered, ‘Riding my bicycle.’
    Christabel was pleased. Godfrey was very pleased, but Josie said, ‘Pooh! It isn’t Elizabeth who does things, it’s Fairy Doll.’
    ‘Is it?’ asked Elizabeth.
    ‘Try without her and you’ll see,’ said Josie.
    Elizabeth looked at Fairy Doll, who was sitting by her on the table. ‘But I’m not without her,’ said