“You see – it rhymes!” said Mirror-Belle. “That proves it’s the right spell. And look!” She pulled the headband off her head. “I’m not a swan any more.”
“But you could have done that at any time,” said Ellen. “They come off easily –” And she removed her own headband.
“Hush! Can you hear the singing?” said Mirror-Belle.
Ellen listened. “Yes, I can.”
The voices were coming from outside; faint but growing louder:
“On the fifth day of Christmas, my True Love sent to me Five gold rings.”
“It’s worked!” cried Mirror-Belle.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s the maidens singing. They’ve been changed back!”
“I think it’s my friends singing carols,” said Ellen. “They’ll probably come to our house next.”
The two girls looked out of the window. The little troop of singers was coming up the road, led by the singing teacher from Ellen’s school, Miss Bell. They stopped outside the front door.
“Let’s go down and listen properly,” said Ellen.
They ran downstairs. Sara had already opened the front door and the three of them stood and listened to the carol.
“On the eighth day of Christmas, my True Love sent to me
Eight maids a-milking
Seven swans a-swimming –”
“You see!” said Mirror-Belle triumphantly. “The song is all about maidens and swans. That absolutely proves it!”
When the carol had finished, Miss Bell said, “Hello, Ellen. It’s a shame you couldn’t come with us.” She was carrying a tin and she held it out. “We’re collecting for a children’s charity,” she said.
“Why not Swans in Need?” asked Mirror-Belle.
Miss Bell laughed uncertainly. “I don’t know much about swans, I’m afraid,” she said.
“You must have escaped the sorcerer’s spell then,” said Mirror-Belle. “But I’m sure these other maidens know all about swans. Ellen and I only set them free a few minutes ago.”
“That’s enough of that,” said Sara, and she put some money into Miss Bell’s collecting tin.
“They don’t seem very grateful,” muttered Mirror-Belle. Then, when the carol singers had gone, she announced, “I must go too. My parents will be worrying about me desperately.”
“Oh dear – I thought they knew you were here,” said Sara.
“No – they probably still think I’m swimming about on a lake,” said Mirror-Belle. “Goodbye, Ellen!” And she ran upstairs.
“Has she gone to fetch something?” asked Sara.
“I’ll go and see,” said Ellen. But when she went into her bedroom there was no sign of Mirror-Belle. Ellen wasn’t surprised. She saw that her coat was lying on the floor in front of the wall mirror, and she felt sure that Mirror-Belle must have gone back through the mirror into her own world.
Just then she heard a key in the door followed by voices in the hall. Her parents were back.
“They’re both upstairs,” Sara told them.
Mum came in. “Sara said you had a friend round,” she said.
“Yes, but she’s gone,” said Ellen.
“Oh good, you’ve got your coat back.” Mum picked it up. “But the sleeve is a bit torn. How did that happen?”
“It was Mirror-Belle – she caught it on a branch,” said Ellen.
Mum sighed but decided not to get into a conversation about Mirror-Belle. “Well, it was getting a bit small for you anyway,” she said.
Madame Jolie beamed as she pirouetted on to the stage. The performance of Swan Lake had just finished and the audience was clapping and clapping.
The ballet had gone really well. Ellen hadn’t wobbled, and Oscar had managed not to smile once. At last the applause died down and Madame Jolie made a little speech.
“Thank you, thank you, everyone. Thank you to all ze parents and grandparents for coming tonight, and a very big thank you to all ze children who ’ave been dancing so well. Now we will ’ave ze tea, coffee and some very special biscuits. I ’ope zat you will all stay.”
The biscuits were shaped like swans and were covered in white icing.
“We’d better eat them up quick, or they might turn back into maidens,” joked Ellen’s dad.
“Well done, Ellen,” said Mum. “And I must congratulate Oscar.”
Oscar was standing nearby with his parents, and Ellen was surprised when she saw who his father was. It was Mr Hollings, wearing a smart suit and looking quite different from how he did in the park. They were chatting to Madame Jolie. Mum went up to them. “Congratulations, Oscar,” she said. “You were a wonderful villain.”
“Yes, ’e looked evil – evil!” agreed Madame Jolie. “But always in ze rehearsals ’e was so smiley – I could not get ’im to frown and to look like ze baddy. ’Ow did you manage it, Oscar?”
“My dad helped me,” said Oscar.
Ellen couldn’t help smiling. She half wished that Mirror-Belle could be there. If she had been, Ellen knew exactly what she would say: “That proves it!”
Chapter Two
The Sleepwalking Beauty
Christmas pudding or Sleeping Beauty? That was the question Ellen was asking herself as she wrapped up a present for her best friend Katy.
It was Christmas Eve, and Katy was having a fancy dress party. Ellen couldn’t decide what to go as. She had already worn the Christmas pudding costume in the end-of-term ballet show. It had a wire frame which was quite uncomfortable and meant you couldn’t sit down. Still, it did look good, especially the little cap with the sprig of holly on it.
The Sleeping Beauty costume wasn’t so Christmassy. It was just a lacy white Victorian nightdress Ellen’s mother had bought at a car-boot sale. But it was very pretty, and Ellen decided to wear it if she could find something else to go with it.
As soon as she had finished wrapping up the present she tried on the nightdress. Looking through her dressing-up box she found an old net curtain which she draped over her head. She fixed it into place with a gold-coloured plastic headband which looked quite like a crown. There was a pair of very long white button-up gloves in the box too. Mum had told her that her great-grandmother used to wear them for going to balls. Ellen put them on and then went to see how the whole outfit looked in her wardrobe mirror.
She should have known better, of course.
“I don’t see why you need to bother with gloves,” said Princess Mirror-Belle, looking at her critically from the mirror. “After all, what would it matter if you pricked your finger?”
Ellen was dismayed. “Oh, Mirror-Belle, this isn’t a good time to come!” she said.
“What do you mean?” said Mirror-Belle, looking offended. “Surely you’d rather play with a princess than by yourself?”
“But I’m not going to be by myself. I’m just off to Katy’s party. This is my Sleeping Beauty costume.”
Mirror-Belle laughed. “Poor you, having to dress up as a Sleeping Beauty, when I really am one,” she said.
“No you’re not – you’re Mirror-Belle.”
“Of course – and ‘Belle’ means ‘Beauty’. I thought everyone knew that. Have you forgotten what I told you the very first time we met?”
Ellen thought back. She did seem to remember some story about Mirror-Belle’s wicked fairy godmother pricking her finger and sending her to sleep for a very long time. But then Mirror-Belle was always telling her stories and Ellen never knew how many of them were true.
Mirror-Belle had stepped out of the mirror and was looking round Ellen’s bedroom. Her eyes fell on the cap belonging to the Christmas pudding costume.
“It’s very careless of you to leave that holly lying around,” she said. “Suppose I pricked my finger on it?”
“It’s not real holly,” said Ellen. “It’s just made of plastic. And I don’t know what you’re so worried about. I thought you’d already gone to sleep for a hundred years.”
“Two hundred,” Mirror-Belle
corrected her. “So what?”
“Well, you woke up in the end, didn’t you? So the spell must be broken.”
“You obviously don’t know my wicked fairy godmother,” said Mirror-Belle. “I’m in danger every day of my life. The next time I prick my finger it’s going to happen all over again, only this time it could be for three hundred years. That’s why I always wear gloves.”
Ellen was sure she hadn’t ever seen Mirror-Belle wearing gloves before, but she didn’t want to start arguing about that now. “Well, anyway, Mirror-Belle, the party will be starting soon. I’ll have to go.”
“Don’t you mean ‘We’?” asked Mirror-Belle, looking offended again.
“No, I don’t. I’m sorry, but it would all be too complicated. Everyone would keep thinking you were me, or my twin or something, and I’m just not in the mood for that.”
“Aha!” Mirror-Belle flipped her net curtain over her head so that it hid her face like a veil. “Now all your problems are solved!” she said.
Ellen doubted it, but she realized she couldn’t win. “Oh, all right then. But we can’t both wear the same costume. I’ll have to be a Christmas pudding after all.”
Ellen put her finger to her lips as they went downstairs. Mum had invited some of her piano pupils round to play Christmas carols to each other, and at the moment Robert Rumbold was hammering out “Silent Night”, though it sounded more like “Very Loud Night”.
Katy’s house was just round the corner. Her dad opened the door to Ellen and Mirror-Belle.
“Oh good, the food’s arrived,” he joked when he saw Ellen dressed as a Christmas pudding. “I hope they put a lot of brandy in you.” He turned to Mirror-Belle. “And I suppose this delicious-looking white creation is the Christmas cake.”
Ellen laughed politely, and then blushed when Mirror-Belle said in a haughty voice, “Please tell the lady of the house that the royal guest has arrived.” She seemed to think that she was speaking to the butler.
Luckily Katy’s father thought this was a great joke. “Katy! The princess and the pudding are here!” he called out. Then, “If you’ll excuse me, I’d better pop upstairs and get changed,” he said to Ellen and Mirror-Belle.
“Yes, you do look a bit scruffy. And don’t forget to give your shoes a polish while you’re at it,” said Mirror-Belle.
Before Ellen could tick her off, Katy arrived, dressed as a reindeer.
“I’ve brought Mirror-Belle with me. I hope that’s all right,” said Ellen.
“Of course it is.” Katy had already met Mirror-Belle once, when she had appeared at their school, and looked pleased to see her again. She took them both into the sitting room, where various children in fancy dress were chattering and eating crisps.
“What an extraordinary-looking tree,” said Mirror-Belle. “Why is it growing indoors?”
“It’s a Christmas tree,” said Ellen.
Mirror-Belle was still bewildered. “What is this Christmas thing that everyone keeps talking about? Is it some kind of disease?”
Katy laughed. “No, of course not. Why do you think that?”
“Well, that tree looks diseased to me. Half the needles have fallen off it, and the fruits are gleaming in a most unhealthy-looking way. I think you should take it back to the forest immediately.”
“They’re not fruits, they’re fairy lights,” said Ellen.
“I think I’m the expert on fairies round here, and I’ve never heard of such a thing,” said Mirror-Belle.
Katy’s mother came in. “There’s just time for one game before tea,” she said.
She handed out pencils and paper and then showed them all a bag. “There are five different things inside here. You’ll all get a turn to feel them and then write down what you think they are.”
“I can’t possibly risk that,” objected Mirror-Belle. “Supposing there’s something sharp in there? I might prick my finger. But I like the idea of tea. Perhaps you could call one of your servants and ask them to bring me mine while the rest of you play this game.”
Katy’s mother told her that she would have to wait and have tea with the others.
“But I promise you there’s nothing sharp in the bag. Why don’t you join in?”
Reluctantly Mirror-Belle agreed, though she refused to take her gloves off.
“This is easy,” she said when it was her turn to feel inside the bag, and she began writing furiously.
“You can read out your list first if you like, Mirror-Belle,” said Katy’s mother when everyone was ready.
“Very well,” said Mirror-Belle. “There’s some mermaid’s hair, a wishing ring, an invisibility pill, a witch’s eyeball and a tool for removing stones from a unicorn’s hoof.”
Everyone laughed.
“Very imaginative,” said Katy’s mum. “I’ll give you a mark for the pill, though I don’t think it has any magic powers.”
Ellen had written, “seaweed, ring pull from drink can, pill, grape and matchstick”, and was delighted to find that she was the only one to get them all right. Her prize was a little snowman made out of meringue.
At teatime there were crackers to pull. Mirror-Belle refused to put on the paper crown inside hers and told everyone about the different crowns she had back home.
“Why are you wearing that veil thing?” someone asked.
“It’s because my face is so beautiful that you might fall down dead if you saw it,” replied Mirror-Belle. Then she kept them entertained with stories about life in the palace. Ellen was glad that the other children seemed to like Mirror-Belle and think she was fun.
It was after tea that the trouble started. When everyone was back in the sitting room, Katy’s mother peeped out the door and announced, “He’s coming!”
“Ho ho ho!” came a loud laugh and in strode Father Christmas. Ellen felt quite excited, even though Katy had told her that it was really just her dad dressed up.
“Merry Christmas, boys and girls!” said Father Christmas. “Happy holidays! Ho ho ho!”
“You’re extremely late,” Mirror-Belle told him. “All the food’s gone already.”
“Ho ho ho!” laughed Father Christmas, even louder than before.
“What’s so funny?” asked Mirror-Belle.
Father Christmas took no notice of her. Still laughing, he heaved the sack off his back. “It’s nice to see you all so wide awake!” he told the children. “When I come down your chimneys you’re always fast asleep. It gets a bit lonely sometimes.”
Mirror-Belle looked even more puzzled. “What do you mean, you come down chimneys? I hope you’re not a burglar. We had one of those at the palace once. He stole all the crown jewels. But I chased him on my flying horse, Little Lord Lightning, and I got them back.”
“Ho ho ho!” went Father Christmas, and one or two of the children laughed, but the others said “Shh” or “Shut up”.
“Now then.” Father Christmas took a present out of his sack. “Who’s been good all year?” he asked.
“Me!” everyone shouted.
He beckoned to a girl dressed as a star and she came shyly forward.
“You look a bit of a star! Ho ho ho!”
Father Christmas handed her the present and she unwrapped it. It was a box of soaps shaped like bells.
“Thank you,” said the star girl.
Ellen glanced at Mirror-Belle. She was still looking suspicious.
Father Christmas gave a torch to a boy dressed as a cracker, and a card game to one in a Batman costume.
“Excuse me, but are you quite sure these things are yours to give away?” Mirror-Belle asked him.
“Ho ho ho,” replied Father Christmas, but Ellen didn’t think he sounded quite so jolly as before. He beckoned to Mirror-Belle, perhaps hoping that once she had a present of her own she would stop pestering him.
“Now then, Your Royal Highness, let’s find something special for you,” he said.
Mirror-Belle gave him half a smile. “At least you know how to address me,” she sa
id. But when she opened her present her face fell.
“What are these supposed to be?” she asked, looking at the five little felt objects she had unwrapped.
Father Christmas didn’t look too sure himself, so Ellen came to the rescue. “They’re finger puppets,” she said. “A reindeer and a robin and a snowman and a Christmas tree and Father Christmas. They’re lovely, aren’t they, Mirror-Belle?”
But Mirror-Belle didn’t think so. “Is this a trick to get me to take off my gloves?” she asked Father Christmas. “Well, I’m not going to, but I think you should take off your socks and shoes.”
“Mirror-Belle! Stop it!” said Ellen, but the Batman boy was intrigued. “Why should he?” he asked.
“They’re stolen!” said Mirror-Belle. “They belong to the butler who opened the door.”
“There isn’t a butler,” said someone, and, “She means Katy’s dad,” said someone else.
“Well, whoever he was, he was wearing scruffy black shoes and socks with green-and-brown diamonds up the sides. Don’t you remember, Ellen?” said Mirror-Belle.
“Now, now, you’ve had your bit of fun,” said Father Christmas, covering up his shoes with the hem of his robe and trying to sound jolly again. “Let someone else have a turn, eh? Ho ho ho!”
But Mirror-Belle ignored him. “I see it all now!” she said. “The butler person told Ellen and me he was going upstairs to get changed, and I ordered him to polish his shabby shoes. He must have taken them off, and his socks too. Then I suppose he must have had a little nap, and meanwhile this burglar came down the chimney and stole them.”
She turned to Katy’s mother. “Aren’t you going to phone the police?”
“No,” said Katy’s mother, “but I think perhaps we’d better phone your parents and tell them you’re getting a bit too excited.”