“What are you doing now?” Ellen felt rattled. Everything would be so much easier if Mirror-Belle had gone by the time Blue Belt came back.

  In reply, Mirror-Belle held the pen out to her. “As a special honour, I’m going to allow you to be the first person to sign my plaster,” she said.

  There was obviously no wriggling out of this, so Ellen took the pen and wrote her name as well as she could with her left hand.

  “Really, Ellen, this is even worse than your normal writing. As well as being backwards, the letters are awfully wobbly.”

  “They’re not backwards – and they only look wobbly because I’m writing left-handed.”

  “I’ll show you how it should be done,” said Mirror-Belle, taking the pen from Ellen. She wrote her own name on Ellen’s plaster. It looked like this:

  “Talk about backwards and wobbly,” Ellen couldn’t help muttering, even though there wasn’t time for an argument. She glanced round the room, hoping to see a mirror, but there was none.

  Just then they heard footsteps in the corridor. Blue Belt was coming back!

  “Farewell!” cried Mirror-Belle, and she darted out of the door. Ellen peered out and saw her go through a door on the other side of the corridor. It had another of the long “ology” words written on it. “Ophthalmology,” this one said.

  “Now, now,” said Blue Belt, coming into the plaster room. “You were supposed to stay sitting down. It’s funny,” she added, “I thought for a moment that I saw you going into the eye department, but it must have been someone else.”

  She put on her reading glasses and looked at Ellen’s identity bracelet.

  “That’s good – I can read it fine now,” she said. “Ellen Page.” She checked the name against Ellen’s notes, and then frowned. “There’s no problem with the name, but I can’t understand what the doctor’s written. It says, ‘Remove plaster from left arm and plaster right arm,’ but your right arm is plastered. I suppose he must mean, ‘Remove plaster from right arm and plaster left arm’.”

  “No, no!” exclaimed Ellen in alarm. “It’s the right one that’s broken. The left one works fine.” She waved it about to prove her point.

  Blue Belt checked the notes and the X-ray. “Well, it’s all very strange,” she said. “I do wonder if that Doctor Birch’s mind is always on his work.”

  She phoned for a porter to take Ellen back to Jupiter Ward and then frowned again. “It’s funny,” she said, “but I could have sworn the plaster was on your left arm too! Before I fetched my glasses, that is. I really ought to pop into the eye department and get my sight checked.”

  At that moment there was a babble of voices in the corridor and someone knocked on the door. Blue Belt opened it, and Ellen heard three voices speaking at once. As far as she could make out, a woman was asking, “Is she in here?” and a boy was saying, “I keep telling you what happened,” and a man was saying, “Be quiet, Toby.”

  “I’m sorry – who are you looking for?” asked Blue Belt.

  “I don’t even know her name, but I thought she might have been one of your patients,” came the woman’s voice. “I was just checking little Toby’s eyesight – you know, that test where they have to read the letters in the mirror – and this girl with her arm in plaster came charging in. She was talking a lot of nonsense, something about all the letters being back to front. She refused to leave when I asked her to, so I went to get the doctor to help me, but when we got back she’d just disappeared.”

  “Yes – into the mirror!” came the boy’s voice.

  “Don’t be silly, Toby. You know that’s impossible,” said the man.

  “But I saw her!”

  “Yes, but don’t forget you need new glasses.”

  “Well, I’m sorry,” said Blue Belt, “but whoever she is, she’s not in here.”

  Ellen had found a blanket and covered herself with it, terrified that the people outside would come in, see her and accuse her of Mirror-Belle’s bad behaviour. But they seemed happy to accept what Blue Belt said, and she heard the woman saying, “Maybe she belongs on Jupiter Ward. I’ll try phoning them.”

  Blue Belt shook her head when they had gone. “Everybody seems to be going mad today,” she said. “Except you, Charlie,” she added to the nice porter who had just come into the room.

  “Hello, old lady – has that naughty nurse been drawing pictures on your plaster?” he said to Ellen. Ellen smiled faintly and sat down in the wheelchair.

  “You’ve gone all quiet,” he told her as he pushed her into the lift. “Aren’t you going to tell me any more stories about your flying horse?” Ellen just shook her head and closed her eyes. She suddenly felt very tired.

  Back in Jupiter Ward, two friendly people were there to greet her – Sister Jo and Mum. Mum was looking quite worried. “I hear you’ve been a bit delirious,” she said.

  “No, I’m fine,” said Ellen.

  “If you ask me,” said Sister Jo in a low voice, “it’s that Doctor Birch who’s been a bit delirious. Fancy not knowing his right from his left! I think he must be in love. I’m going to ask Doctor Hamza to see you as soon as you’ve had your lunch. You must be starving – I gather you didn’t fancy your breakfast.”

  “That’s not like you, Ellen,” said Mum.

  Ellen, who didn’t feel like explaining, gobbled up her chicken pie and fruit salad. She was halfway through the bunch of grapes that Mum had brought in when Dr Hamza appeared at her bedside. He asked her about her fall and got her to count backwards from a hundred to fifty.

  “She seems very fine and dandy to me,” he told Mum. “You can take her home.”

  Mum had brought in some new clothes, including a blouse with a cut-off sleeve like the hospital pyjama top. She helped Ellen into them.

  “Do you want to pop into the bathroom before you go?” asked Sister Jo. “Then you can see in the mirror how smart you look.”

  “No!” said Ellen. “I mean, no, thank you. Can I go back to school now and show everyone the plaster?”

  “That can wait till tomorrow,” said Mum. “I think you should take things easy this afternoon. You can finish the grapes and read the new library book I’ve got out for you.”

  “What’s it called?” asked Ellen.

  “The Flying Horse,” said Mum, and couldn’t understand why Ellen laughed all the way down in the lift.

  Chapter Two

  The Magic Ball

  “Don’t get too many yellow cards, Ellen!” said Dad.

  Ellen’s big brother Luke chortled at this, but Ellen just smiled thinly. “I might not even play football,” she said. “There are lots of other sports you can choose.”

  The leisure centre was having an open day. Dad and Luke were going to play a game of squash, and Ellen was doing something called “Four for Free”, which meant you could try out four sports without paying anything.

  “We’ll be on squash court three,” said Dad. “Just in case you need me to sort out any refs for you!” he added.

  Luke chuckled again. “I think I’d better do that, Dad. You won’t be in a fit state after I’ve beaten you!” Then the two of them strode off, swinging their rackets jauntily.

  Ellen decided to try out the Eight and Over gym first. It didn’t have any weight-lifting machines like the big gym, but it did have a trampoline and some running and cycling machines.

  She showed her Four for Free card to the muscular young attendant in the gym. He ticked one of the boxes on it and handed it back to her.

  The gym was very busy but Ellen found a free running machine. She’d never been on one before so the attendant had to show her how to use it.

  It felt strange at first to run on the spot. Ellen was just getting the hang of it when she heard a voice saying, “You’re going the wrong way!”

  Ellen had been concentrating so hard on her feet and the little screen showing her speed that she had hardly taken in the row of mirrors facing the running machines. Startled by the voice, she stopped running.

  Her reflec
tion stopped just as suddenly – except, of course, that it wasn’t really her reflection; it was Princess Mirror-Belle.

  “Mirror-Belle! What are you doing here?” asked Ellen.

  Princess Mirror-Belle jumped off her machine and jogged out of the mirror and into the gym. “Chasing the magic ball,” she said. “Have you seen it?”

  Ellen looked round. She couldn’t see a ball, and she was relieved that no one else in the gym seemed to have noticed Mirror-Belle; they were all too busy bouncing and running or cycling.

  “What magic ball?” she asked.

  “The one my wicked fairy godmother threw,” said Mirror-Belle. “She’s been up to her tricks again. She’s turned everyone in the palace to stone.”

  “Except for you,” remarked Ellen.

  “Yes, well, she was going to do it to me too, but luckily I knew the special magic words to stop her.”

  “What were they?”

  Mirror-Belle looked rather annoyed, and said, “Don’t hold me up – I told you, I have to find the magic ball.”

  “You still haven’t explained about that,” said Ellen.

  “Haven’t I? Well, the wicked fairy threw it and said that the stone spell would only be broken if I could bring it back to her. You should have heard her cackle!”

  “Why was she cackling?”

  “Because everyone knows that it’s almost impossible to keep up with her magic ball. I’ve been chasing it for days – through forests and up and down mountains – but it’s always just ahead of me. And now I seem to have lost sight of it altogether.”

  Mirror-Belle glanced round the gym and then her eyes lit up. “Aha!” she said, and she marched up to the muscular attendant.

  “You can’t fool me,” she told him, and she jumped up and tapped his arm.

  “Stop mucking about,” he said.

  “That’s no way to talk to a princess,” said Mirror-Belle. “And, in any case, you’re the one who’s mucking about. Roll up your sleeve immediately!”

  “Stop it, Mirror-Belle,” said Ellen. “You’ll get us chucked out.”

  “But it’s perfectly clear he’s hiding the magic ball up his sleeve,” said Mirror-Belle.

  “Don’t be silly – that’s not a ball, it’s just his arm muscles,” said Ellen, laughing.

  The attendant looked quite amused and actually did roll up his right sleeve. He was probably glad to have a chance to display his bulging biceps.

  Mirror-Belle looked unimpressed and demanded to see the other arm. But by now the attendant had had enough. Perhaps he thought they were trying to make fun of him.

  “Why don’t you two buzz off and try out something else,” he said. Then a suspicious look crossed his face. “Have I ticked both your cards?” he asked.

  Ellen showed him hers, and Mirror-Belle also took a card from the pocket of her tracksuit trousers. The attendant stared at it. “That’s funny,” he said. “The writing’s all wrong on this one.”

  Ellen glanced at Mirror-Belle’s card. She was not surprised to see that it was in mirror-writing. Instead of saying FOUR FOR FREE it said:

  “It’s perfectly correct,” said Mirror-Belle. “You probably just left school too young, before you’d fully mastered the art of reading.” She shook her head and turned to Ellen. “All muscles and no brain,” she murmured. Ellen couldn’t help giggling.

  The attendant was really cross now. “Get out!” he said.

  Ellen tugged at Mirror-Belle’s arm. “Why don’t we have a go at five-a-side football?” she said.

  “Football, did you say? That sounds promising!”

  To Ellen’s relief, Mirror-Belle seemed to forget about the muscular attendant’s left arm and she followed Ellen out of the gym and down the stairs.

  In the five-a-side hall a woman in a pink tracksuit looked pleased to see them.

  “Good – we needed an extra two to get started,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind being on different teams.” After hurriedly checking their cards, she gave Ellen a blue armband and Mirror-Belle a red one and told them where to stand. Then she put a football down in the middle of the pitch.

  Mirror-Belle looked disappointed. “That’s not the magic ball,” she said. “It’s too big, and it’s the wrong colour. I’ll have to search elsewhere.”

  “Oh, do stay,” said Ellen. “Otherwise your team will be one short.”

  Mirror-Belle shrugged her shoulders. Pink Tracksuit blew a whistle, and everyone started running around, kicking the ball and trying to score goals.

  One of the other children on the red team passed the ball to Mirror-Belle and she picked it up. “Thank you,” she said, “but it’s no use to me. Here, Ellen, catch!” And ignoring Pink Tracksuit, who was blowing her whistle, she threw the ball to Ellen.

  The others on the red team started shouting at Mirror-Belle.

  “Stupid!”

  “You’re not allowed to use your hands.”

  “She’s on the other side anyway.”

  Mirror-Belle looked shocked. She went up to Pink Tracksuit. “Excuse me – you seem to be in charge. What is the punishment for being rude to royalty? In my father’s kingdom these people would have to weed the palace gardens for a year.”

  Pink Tracksuit ignored this. “Free kick for the blues,” she announced and, “Get back in your place,” she told Mirror-Belle.

  “Just who do you think you are?” Mirror-Belle asked her.

  “I’m the coach,” said Pink Tracksuit.

  Mirror-Belle started to laugh. “In that case, where are your six white horses? Where are your wheels and your velvet cushions? Where are the driver and the footmen?”

  Pink Tracksuit looked as if she might send Mirror-Belle off, and Ellen tried to come to the rescue. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t think she’s ever played football before.” She managed to coax Mirror-Belle back on to the pitch. “You have to kick the ball, and only to people in your team – or into the goal,” she told her. “That’s the net thing,” she added, pointing, as Mirror-Belle was looking blank.

  Pink Tracksuit blew the whistle and the game started up again. The blue team scored a goal, and then another one. Then the reds got the ball. One of them passed it to Mirror-Belle.

  “No – not to her,” moaned another red player, but it was too late. Mirror-Belle had given the ball a huge kick. It landed in the red team’s goal.

  “Yes!” shouted some of the blues, jumping up and down, but the reds were furious.

  “You idiot!”

  “That was an own goal!”

  “Get her off!”

  Once again Mirror-Belle strode up to Pink Tracksuit. “I’m simply not putting up with this petty jealousy,” she complained.

  “We’re not jealous!” said one of the reds.

  “Yes, you are. I’ve just done what those two other people did – kicked the ball into the net – but, if I may say so, with far greater skill and style than they did. I can’t help it if the rest of you can’t match up to me.”

  “But it was the wrong goal! You should have kicked it into the blue goal!”

  “Really,” said Mirror-Belle, “I can’t be bothered with all these silly details. You’ll just have to play four-a-side. Come on, Ellen, let’s go.”

  Ellen thought this was a good idea, and so did everyone else.

  “Well, that was a waste of time,” said Mirror-Belle as they left the football hall. “Now maybe I’ll never find the magic ball, and my parents and all the servants will remain statues for ever. I suppose in that case I’d have to come and live with you, Ellen.”

  Ellen wasn’t too sure about this plan. A little of Mirror-Belle went a long way. Luckily she was saved from replying because Mirror-Belle stopped suddenly outside a door and said, “Just a minute, do I hear bouncing? What’s in there?”

  “It’s the indoor tennis courts.” Tennis was one of the sports you could choose as part of Four for Free, although after the football experience Ellen wasn’t keen for Mirror-Belle to join in.


  But she had no choice. Mirror-Belle had already opened the door, and a jolly-looking woman in white shorts and a T-shirt was greeting them.

  “Hi there, four-for-frees! Jolly good – now we can play doubles; what fun!” She gave them both tennis rackets and introduced them to two other girls called Jade and Ailsa. Then she asked Ellen, “Do you two want to play together or opposite each other?”

  “Together,” said Ellen hastily, remembering the disastrous football game.

  A lot of yellow tennis balls were lying on the ground and Mirror-Belle was inspecting them. “These are the right colour, but they’re too furry, and they’re not trying to escape,” she said.

  The jolly woman laughed heartily. “Now, how about a little knockabout before you start a proper game?” she suggested. “You serve first, Mirror-Belle.”

  “Naturally,” said Mirror-Belle. She picked up a ball and hit it to Ellen.

  Jade and Ailsa giggled, and the jolly woman said, “Whoopsadaisy!”

  “You’re not supposed to pass it to me,” said Ellen.

  “Why ever not? You’re on my team, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, in that other stupid game you said I was to pass the ball to people on the same team. Which is it to be? Do make up your mind – I haven’t got all day.”

  “Well, you see . . .” Ellen was about to explain the difference between football and tennis when Mirror-Belle’s face lit up. “Oh, I understand!” she said, and picked up the ball. This time it hit the net. “Goal!” she cried.

  Jade and Ailsa giggled some more, but the jolly woman said, “Don’t laugh at her. She’s doing her best.” Then she turned to Mirror-Belle. “Try hitting it a little higher and you’ll get it over all right.”