‘And you mustn’t do it again. It’s very dangerous,’ said Alice. ‘No tree-climbing allowed now, all of you.’
Alice stayed at home with Maudie, while Smash and I tagged along in the car with Dad and Robbie. Poor Robbie looked sicker than ever.
‘Don’t worry, Robs,’ I whispered. ‘I think you’re right. You’ll still be able to climb. You’ll remember how. You’ll be fantastic, you’ll see.’
‘I don’t feel fantastic,’ said Robbie. ‘I’ve lost all my springiness.’ He held out his arms and legs. ‘They’re just all wobbly jelly now.’
‘Oh, don’t be such a wimp,’ said Smash. ‘You can do it. Look, you were heaps better at climbing than me yesterday. I don’t think it had anything to do with that silly old Psammead. You just believed you could do it – so you could.’
Robbie stared at Smash, blinking uncertainly. Perhaps in her own weird way she was trying to be kind to him.
‘Really?’ he said.
‘Really!’ she said, thumping him on the back. ‘So buck up. You’re Tree Boy, the Little Champ. You show them all.’
We got to the school and wandered about looking for the gym. It was a huge room heaving with children in leotards and tracksuits, all zipping up and down the walls, bouncing on the trampoline and somersaulting along the mats.
‘Oh wow!’ said Smash, her whole face lighting up.
Robbie said nothing at all. I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. Tim came bustling up. He was a tall beefy man with a big grin of white teeth. He made Dad suddenly look surprisingly small.
‘Hi, Tim. This is very good of you. Here’s the little lad,’ said Dad, his hands on Robbie’s shoulders.
‘He is a little lad,’ said Tim. ‘Right, kiddo, we’ll do a few warm-up exercises first, okay?’
‘Can we warm up?’ said Smash. She gave a very fake shiver. ‘We’re very cold.’
Tim laughed at her. ‘I mean you need to warm your muscles up so you don’t hurt yourself when you start using the equipment. But, okay, you can all three join in if you want. Take your shoes and socks off and we’ll give it a go.’
‘Hurray!’ said Smash, giving Dad a little nod.
Dad shook his head at her. So did I. I didn’t want to join in with all these expert kids in their proper gym outfits. But at least I was keeping Robbie company, so I obediently did all the funny stretching exercises, copying Tim. Thankfully they weren’t too difficult.
Then we had to do some work on the mats, bicycling in the air and simple head-over-heels stuff. Robbie’s never quite got the hang of head over heels. He had a go, but got stuck halfway, his bottom up in the air, Psammead-style.
‘Help!’ he gasped.
‘Roll over, son – don’t clown around!’ Dad called.
Tim gently tipped Robbie into a more dignified position.
‘Do you know something, young man? I’m not too good at head over heels myself,’ he said comfortingly. ‘Don’t worry, we can’t be good at everything. Let’s get you over to the ropes so you can shine. Your dad tells me you love climbing trees, is that right?’
‘Well, it was right yesterday,’ said Robbie. ‘But I’m not sure I like to do that today.’
‘Don’t you want to have a go?’ said Tim gently, putting his arm round Robbie.
‘Not really,’ Robbie mumbled.
‘I want to have a go,’ said Smash, bouncing about on the mat like a jumping bean. ‘Watch me, Tim!’
‘Smash! Calm down now. We’re not here on your behalf, dear,’ said Dad. ‘Come on, Robbie! Stop being so bashful. Go over to those ropes and show Tim what you can do. Go on.’
Robbie trailed over to the ropes, his head bent. Smash grabbed a rope straight away and started swinging.
‘Hey, hey! Not like that,’ said Tim quickly. ‘You’re not in a playground. You have to use the equipment properly. Now, I’ll show you the way I want you to climb.’
‘I know how to climb already,’ said Smash, demonstrating.
She was halfway up in a trice.
‘See!’ she said, and slid down triumphantly.
‘Mmm,’ said Tim. ‘You’re certainly very good at going up – but not so good at coming down.’ He took hold of her hands, opening up her fists. ‘Look at those nasty rope burns – and you’ve got more on your legs, you silly girl. They must be really sore.’
‘They don’t hurt a bit,’ said Smash, though we could all see she was wincing.
‘I’ll show you how to come down without it hurting,’ said Tim.
He climbed up, and then let himself down carefully, hauling himself elegantly, his body arched.
‘Cool!’ said Smash. ‘Okay, watch me this time.’
‘I’ll watch all three of you,’ said Tim. ‘Off you go.’
Smash was off like a rocket, climbing right up to the very top of the rope.
I made a deliberate mess of things, slipping and sliding and shaking my rope to try to divert attention from Robbie.
He spat on his hands desperately, making Dad and Tim laugh, and then jumped up. And down. He tried again – and again and again. He couldn’t climb up at all. He was trying so hard the veins were standing out on his forehead and his eyes were popping, but he simply couldn’t do it.
‘Come on, Robbie!’ Dad shouted. ‘Try, son!’
It was painfully obvious to everyone else that Robbie was trying as hard as he could.
‘Down you come,’ said Tim, helping him. ‘Let’s do some fun stuff instead.’
He blew the whistle round his neck and called, ‘You’ve all been working very hard, so I think it’s time we played a little game. How about … Shipwreck?’
Everyone cheered while Tim scattered hula hoops and extra mats all round the room. I looked at Dad. He was staring down at his knees, shaking his head. I edged up to Robbie and tried to squeeze his hand. He snatched it away. His lips were pressed so tightly together they’d almost disappeared, and he was blinking rapidly, trying not to cry in front of everyone.
Shipwreck was a crazy game, but it was great fun, even if you were useless at gymnastics. You had to run round and round the room, and then when Tim shouted Shipwreck you had to leap on to a piece of equipment or jump inside a hoop or sit on a mat. Then when he blew his whistle you had to leap from one to another. If you couldn’t reach, you could maybe climb up the wall bars and sidle along and then jump. If you touched the ground, that meant you were out and you had to sit on the rescue boats – long benches at the side of the room.
Robbie played Shipwreck so slowly and cautiously he wasn’t out first, thank goodness. I managed to stay in the game until there were only about ten of us left in, but then I skidded off a mat and my foot touched the floor. It looked as if Smash was going to win. She was brilliant at the game, leaping like a gazelle and landing lightly, often climbing her way round the walls. Soon it was just Smash and a tall, fair boy left in. They went round and round the room, so sure-footed it seemed as if they could carry on forever.
‘Go, Smash!’ I shouted, surprising myself.
Even Robbie perked up a little and watched her properly.
Smash grinned, loving the way we were all looking at her, and decided to show off. She jumped from a mat and clutched one of the ropes. She swung herself to the next rope, building up momentum, so that she could swing herself nearly, nearly, nearly as far as the gym-horse, and then she leapt for it and landed perfectly. She would have been fine, but she flung her arms out in a flourish. We all clapped and she got so distracted she slipped sideways, off the horse and on to the floor.
‘Oh, hard luck!’ said Tim, helping her up. Then he turned to the fair boy and clapped him on the back. ‘But well done, you!’
Smash’s face screwed up.
‘It wasn’t my fault I slipped! They all made such a noise. Can’t I have another chance?’
‘No, you can’t,’ said Tim. ‘I would have had to disqualify you anyway, because you’re not allowed to swing on the ropes like that. I told you. You have to do as I sa
y if you come to my gym.’
‘Well, I don’t want to come to your stupid old gym then,’ said Smash.
‘Smash, behave,’ said Dad curtly. ‘None of you will be coming to the gym. Tim, I’m so sorry for wasting your time.’
‘Not at all, Dave,’ said Tim. ‘It’s a pity about your daughter – she’s got real talent.’
‘She’s not my –’ Dad took a deep breath. ‘Oh well. Smash is a law unto herself.’
‘And I hope you all had a good time,’ Tim went on pleasantly.
‘Good time!’ Dad muttered in the car. ‘I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.’
We said nothing. Smash was glowering, I was agonized and Robbie was slumped in shame.
Dad tried to pull himself together as he parked the car.
‘Of course it doesn’t really matter, Robbie. I mean, I’m still proud of you because – because you’re my son, and who cares about any silly old gymnastics? But what exactly were you playing at? You were astonishingly brilliant yesterday and a total little duffer today. How come?’
Robbie said nothing.
‘Oh well, maybe it was all some magic trick, like you said. Ha ha,’ said Dad mirthlessly.
‘Ha ha ha,’ we echoed.
Alice and Maudie were waiting for us when we got in the house.
‘Oh dear, what’s happened?’ said Alice.
‘Don’t ask,’ said Dad.
‘Robbie didn’t do well?’ Alice persisted.
‘I did,’ said Smash. ‘I nearly won that stupid Shipwreck game. I was better than all the other kids. David’s pal Tim practically begged me to come and do gym lessons, but I didn’t fancy it. He was a right old bossyboots. It would be just like school.’
‘Oh, Smash,’ said Alice reproachfully, sighing. ‘I don’t know how you can even mention school.’
Smash had apparently been excluded from her school for bad behaviour.
‘She’s certainly got an appalling attitude. I was ashamed of the way she talked to Tim,’ said Dad.
‘That’s right, everyone pick on me. It’s not my fault today’s gone all wrong,’ said Smash.
Robbie hung his head. I squirmed. Even Maudie looked anxious and sucked her thumb, though she didn’t know what we were talking about.
‘Oh dear, such long faces!’ said Alice, visibly making an effort. ‘Cheer up, everyone. What would you like to do today?’
‘Go on another picnic in Oxshott woods!’ we said.
‘You want to go to Oxshott woods again?’ said Dad. ‘But we went there yesterday. Why don’t we go somewhere different today? We could go to Richmond Park, or Kew Gardens. I’m sure we could all squash up in the car somehow.’
‘Maybe you could all go for a car trip while Maudie and I stay at home,’ said Alice hopefully.
‘No, we really, really, really want to go back to that sandpit in the woods,’ said Smash. ‘Please, Mum. Please, Dave.’
Smash seldom said please to anyone, so this was highly effective.
We helped get the picnic ready. I was in charge of chopping up carrots and celery, Smash had to watch the chipolata sausages under the grill and Robbie made chocolate cornflake crispies. I was busy worrying about wishes and chopped my finger instead of the carrot and had to have a plaster. Smash was also clearly plotting something in her head and burnt the sausages, though she insisted she’d done it on purpose because she liked burnt sausages. Robbie melted chocolate and stirred in cornflakes and poured a neat dollop into little cake papers. Chocolate cornflake crispies are the easiest things in the world to make. Maudie could have done it easily. But Dad and Alice reacted as if Robbie had created an elaborate fancy gateau. Dad made kissing noises and fluttered his fingers, and Alice said Robbie would have to teach her how to make them.
‘They’re just being kind to me because I made an idiot of myself at the gym,’ Robbie said to me.
‘Yes, but they mean well,’ I said.
‘When’s anyone going to be kind to me?’ said Smash. ‘I didn’t make an idiot of myself. I was dead brilliant, and yet I still got told off. No one ever says, “Well done, Smash, you’re fantastic.”’
‘Well done, Smash-Smash,’ said Maudie, smiling at her – so Smash laughed and gave her a hug.
Maudie still gave me hugs too, but not quite as enthusiastically. I tried very hard not to mind. I gave Robbie a hug instead and he gave me a proper grin at last.
We set out for Oxshott woods very cheerfully this time. It didn’t seem anywhere near such a trek. Smash ran ahead, I skipped after her and Robbie ambled along, a lion in one hand, a tiger in the other, making them run a race. He was almost his old self again until we got into the woods.
‘How about having another go at tree-climbing, son?’ said Dad.
‘No!’ said Alice. ‘Honestly, David! You’re none of you allowed to do any tree-climbing – and that means you too, Smash.’
Dad muttered that he just didn’t get it, and we’d all seen Robbie climbing yesterday, and what was the matter with the boy now? He went on and on and on.
‘I wish Dad would just shut up,’ I muttered.
‘Careful!’ said Smash. ‘The Psammead might be listening. We’re not going to waste another wish – though it might be good fun seeing your dad with his volume turned down. He doesn’t half go on.’
‘He’s okay,’ I said awkwardly, even though I agreed with her. ‘What’s your dad like then?’
‘Oh, he used to be fine. We’d have such fun. He hardly ever told me off. He’d always buy me whatever I wanted and take me around with him. One time he even took me out in the evening to this posh French restaurant and he let me have three different puddings. He always had girlfriends, but I didn’t care. He always said I was his number-one girlfriend. But then he met Tessa.’ Smash pulled a hideous face.
‘Is she the one he’s just married?’ I asked.
Smash nodded. ‘I’m not ever, ever, ever getting married,’ she said. ‘Come on, you lot. Let’s get to the sandpit!’
We had to have the picnic first, before we could search for the Psammead. It was another very good picnic. There were tuna and sweetcorn rolls and banana sandwiches and Smash’s burnt sausages and my chopped vegetables with two different dips, avocado and hummus. Then there were little individual fruit fools and angel cake and Robbie’s chocolate crispies, and a big bunch of black grapes to finish things off. We had home-made lemonade to drink and Dad and Alice had wine again. Quite a lot of it. They lay down, feeding each other grapes – and were fast asleep in minutes.
‘Hurray!’ said Smash. ‘Now, let’s find that Psammead again.’
‘Yes, let’s!’ I said.
‘Yes, and I’m going to wish I can climb trees all over again to show Dad,’ said Robbie.
‘Oh no, you’re not!’ said Smash. ‘It’s not your turn to make a wish!’
‘Well, I’ll wish we can all climb trees,’ said Robbie.
‘I can climb trees already, so that would be totally wasted,’ said Smash. ‘No, I’m going to wish this time, as I found the Psammead.’
‘Yes, but I got him out,’ said Robbie.
‘But I was the one who identified him,’ I said. ‘I’m the one who read the book. I’m the one who knows how the Psammead behaves and how the wishes nearly always go wrong if you’re not extra careful. I think we’d all be much better off if I made a wish for all of us.’
‘Oh, you’re much too timid and goody-goody, Rosalind. You’ll start wishing for something totally mushy, like we’ll all love each other, or we’ll all be happy, or something impossible, like World Peace or Saving the Planet,’ Smash said scornfully.
‘I think those are good wishes,’ I said, stung, because she’d read my mind pretty accurately.
‘But it’s not going to make much difference if it all stops at sunset,’ said Smash, getting down on her knees and digging. ‘Come on, help me, you lot.’
We all knelt down and helped her, even Maudie.
‘It might make a bit of differe
nce,’ I said. ‘If we had World Peace for a day, then all the soldiers in all the different countries might like it so much they’d never want to shoot anyone ever again, and then think how wonderful that would be. Pacifists have tried to achieve this for centuries and yet we could do it just by wishing.’
‘Oh, rubbish, of course they’d all start again the moment the spell wore off. Look at the British and the Germans in the First World War,’ said Smash. ‘They had a truce at Christmas and climbed out of their trenches and played football together – and then they went back to shooting and gassing each other the very next day.’
Smash might have missed a lot of school but annoyingly she seemed to know a lot.
‘Let’s not waste our breath arguing,’ I said. ‘Let’s just dig.’
So we dug some more. We dug until our nails throbbed and our arms ached. We dug so far down we came to much darker sand mixed up with earth.
‘The Psammead wouldn’t like burrowing right down here, it’s too mucky and damp,’ said Robbie. ‘I think we’re digging in the wrong place. Let’s try a bit further away.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ said Smash, but she shuffled over in the sand and started again.
‘We should have marked exactly where the Psammead burrowed down so that we could find it again easily,’ I said.
‘Yes, but then some other kids might come along and poke their noses in and use up all its wishes,’ said Smash. ‘Come on, dig, Rosalind.’
‘It’s all right for you. The sand doesn’t get up your nails because you’ve nibbled them right down to the quick. It keeps catching under mine and feels horrid. Perhaps I’d better go and fetch Maudie’s beaker again,’ I said.
‘No, not Maudie’s beaker,’ said Maudie firmly. She banged her little fist in the middle of the sand pile. ‘Where Monkey?’
‘Where indeed,’ I said. ‘Look, you don’t think –’ I paused, feeling peculiar. ‘You don’t think we really imagined it, do you?’
‘What?’ Smash peered at me, wrinkling her nose.
‘Well, sometimes I pretend things, and I can make them seem real. So real sometimes I get mixed up and almost believe it,’ I said.