*
Saffron bounded off the school bus; bounded up the garden
path; bounded in through the door, and bounded up the stairs to the attic. She paused.
There was no sound. She grinned. She knew that the Sixteen Stephens and Andrew
wouldn’t be practising walking through walls today of all days; she knew they
would be getting ready for their Hallowe’en party, too. She unlocked the eggshell blue door and swung
it open. Sure enough, the ghosts were up
to their armpits in decorations and witches’ cauldrons and broomsticks and
pretend black cats and Jack’O’Lanterns and, Saffron smiled, candy. Well, most of them were up to their armpits;
Stephen Number Eight was up to his mouth with candy, and Stephen Number Ten was
just managing to keep a lid on himself by throwing gummi-bears into Stephen
Number Eight’s ever expanding, candy chomping aperture.
“Huuuullllloooooooo!”
Saffron said, in her best spookiest voice, “How’s the Hallowe’en preparations
coming along?”
“Absolutely brilliantly, thank you,” said Andrew, “We can’t
wait for the party. You are coming
aren’t you? We really want to introduce
you to some of our friends.”
“Your friends are coming here?” Saffron asked, not able to
hide the delight in her voice, “That’s brilliant! Yes, I’ll definitely be there.” She beamed, “Me and Rachel are going to go ‘Trick
or Treating’ first but then we’ll come straight up afterward. I can introduce you to my friend too!” Andrew thought about this. Hmmm, he wondered, was it time for one of
Saffron’s friends to meet him and the Sixteen Stephens? There was no time like Hallowe’en, I suppose.
“Yes,” Andrew eventually replied, “That would be a lovely
treat for us, too.” Saffron squeezed
herself tight in happiness and grinned from one ear to the other one. Her own ears, of course.
 |
| The Sixteen Stephens and Andrew's party preparations were well underway! |
*
Hallowe’en arrived and Saffron sat Bruno up on her bed and
paraded in front of him in her amazing Hallowe’en costume.
“What do you think, Bruno?”
Saffron asked her frog friend, “Do you like it?” She giggled.
Of course Bruno liked it. It was
an amazing costume. Saffron wore a black
pointy hat, a crazy green, orange and purple wild-wig, a billowing black dress,
a cobweb-spun cloak and black pointy boots.
She had blackened out two of her front teeth, put on a false nose and a
wart, and wore grey, purple and dark blue eye-shadow and lip-stick and had
coloured her skin green. She looked very
spooky indeed…amazingly so! She picked
up her broomstick, all blackened and yellow stalks, and picked up Bruno, who
was wearing cat ears, whiskers and a tail for the evening.
Saffron met Rachel on the front doorstep of the house. Rachel looked amazing too. She was dressed as Frankenstein’s Monster and
she walked liked a straight armed zombie, which made Saffron laugh; especially
when Rachel stuck her tongue out and made an awful groaning noise, like a
deflating walrus. The two of them
gathered their special bags for carrying candy in and set off on their “Trick
or Treating”. What a terrific night this
was going to be!
Saffron and Rachel giggled and chattered with each other as
they walked to their first house. They
were concentrating so hard on how much candy they were going to get, they did
not see a skulking pair following closely behind them. They were concentrating so much on what type
of tricks they should play on the house owners who had no candy; they did not hear
the skulking pair sniggering behind them.
They were so happy walking up to the front door of the first house on
the street, they did not see the naughty pair raise their arms in readiness
behind them.
 |
| Trick or Treat! |
Saffron knocked on the door of the first house and the two
girls sing-songed a “Trick or Treat!” both wearing the biggest and best
Hallowe’en smiles they possessed. Their
smiles grew wider as they heard footsteps and muffled comments about how many
lollies per child were to be dished out per visit. Their smiles vanished as two eggs smashed
against the front door of the house.
“Hey!” Yelled Saffron.
“What was that?”
Asked Rachel.
“Eggs? Where did they
come from?” Saffron was completely
puzzled. In answer two more eggs flew
over their heads and splattered against the front door of the house. The door opened and the owner, Mr Turning,
looked at his front door.
“Hmmmm,” he said, and, “Humph,” he went. He turned a frowning face on Saffron and
Rachel and wagged an annoyed finger at them.
“You two do know how ‘Trick or Treat’ works, don’t you?” He said.
“But…”
“M-Mr Tu-Turning…” The two girls stammered but the door
slammed shut, and they could hear muffled comments about troublesome children
and no lollies for those two.
Saffron and Rachel stared at each other. They turned, slowly, and walked back down the garden path. What could possibly be going on? They walked to the next house and approached the front door of Number 18: Ms Standing’s gorgeous thatched cottage. The front door was a beautiful bright pink. Saffron always mentioned it whenever her and Bruno passed it by. They walked down the garden path looking back over their shoulders every now and again. They could see nothing. They knocked the door and chorused a slightly less sure of themselves “Trick or Treat”. They looked about but they could not see anything out of the ordinary. The blood must have been pounding in their ears a bit too fiercely because they did not hear the sniggering and the chuckling, nor did they spy the sneaking pair of egg chucking hoodlums that were waiting just outside the garden of Number 18, just on the other side of the fence and just out of sight. If they had heard or seen, they would have gone and found a spiky girl and a round girl and a basket slightly less full of eggs that it had been five minutes before.
Saffron and Rachel heard Ms Standing coming to the
door. They heard her chattering away to
Burrow, her cat, about how much she enjoyed “Trick or Treat” and how much candy
she’d got ready to give away that night.
The two girls’ mouths began to water at the thought of all the great
lollies and sweets that would soon be in their special bags for carrying candy
in and smiled at each other. They did
not see nor hear the eggs hurtling toward the door of the thatched
cottage. Splat! The first egg hit and smeared white and
yellow down the beautiful pink door.
Splatter! The second egg hit and doubled the stain sliding down to the
doorstep. The two girls whizzed around
but there was nothing or no one to be seen.
This time, however, they were sure they heard a wicked giggling, but
they could not tell where it was coming from and, just as they were going to
investigate, the door flew open and an outraged Ms Standing was stood there,
with Burrow the cat twisting in and out around her feet.
“Saffron!
Rachel! How could you do such a
thing?” Shrieked Ms Standing.
“But….”
“It wasn’t….” Ms Standing looked her beautiful pink door up
and down. She looked back at the two
girls.
“I never would have thought that you two girls, you two
beautifully, creepily, exceptionally appropriately dressed for Hallowe’en and
looking a million dollars girls would do such a thing!” And with that, Ms Standing slammed her door
shut. Saffron and Rachel stared at each
other. Each could see the tears welling
in the other’s eyes. What a miserable
“Trick or Treat” this was turning out to be.
More slowly than before, they turned and walked back down the garden
path, bags dragging along behind them, shoulders slouched and slumped.
“This is brilliant!”
Said Agatha Bartholomew to her round friend. “They haven’t a clue what’s going on!” The two girls sniggered and chuckled once
more.
“Come on,” Agatha Bartholomew whispered, “Let’s follow them
to the next house… I’ve got the rotten eggs ready, this time.”
Mr and Mrs Squiding were sat in their kitchen waiting for
the first knock on the door of the evening.
On their kitchen table was a big bucket of liquorice laces and sherbet
fountains and jelly-tots and fruit chews and gum-drops and mints and chocolate
bars. Mr and Mrs Squiding loved
Hallowe’en with a capital L and simply could not wait for the “Trick or
Treating” to begin. Patiently, they sat
and waited; impatiently, actually. Every
now and again they would look at each and smile big smiles. Every now and again they would look at the door
and wait for the first knock. Every now
and again Mr Squiding’s hand would reach for a chocolate bar and Mrs Squiding’s
hand would slap it away from them. Every
now and again they would perk up at what they thought were footsteps on the
garden path. Then, this time, they
relaxed a little. They smiled bigger
smiles than before and they stood up.
The footsteps were definitely there…although they didn’t sound like
happy footsteps. They were too slow, for
starters, and, if they listened really closely, they actually sounded like they
were dragging footsteps all along the garden pavers. It was as if the steps were more of a dull
shuffle than a footstep. Mr and Mrs
Squiding were confused. This wasn’t how
“Trick or Treat” was supposed to go.
“Trick or Treat” should be a happy, candy-filled explosion of joy, not
slow, shuffling, dragging dull footsteps coming up the path. They looked at each other in confusion.
Outside Mr and Mrs Squiding’s house, Saffron and Rachel
shuffled toward the front door. Their
bottom lips were almost a-quiver and they were definitely not having the best
Hallowe’en. “Who could want to spoil
their ‘Trick or Treating’?” They had
wondered. “Who could be so mean?”
They reached the door and knocked on it and said “Trick or
Treat” in a gloomy manner. This time,
the words had hardly left their mouths when the eggs sailed over their heads
and smashed against the door. This time,
instead of the bright yellow yolk and gloopy white splattering everywhere, a
browny dull mess smeared over the door and a smell of quite disgusting
proportions swam about them and their candy carrying apparatus. The stink was incredible. It was as if a hundred farting fart-monsters
had emitted an odour after having eaten fifty-two cans of a beans and a
cabbage…each. Rachel dropped her bag and
grabbed her nose. Saffron did exactly
the same. Just at the moment, the door
opened and Mr and Mrs Squiding looked down at the two nose holding girls, took
in the view, then took in the smell and quickly grabbed each other’s noses,
pegging them shut.
“EEWWWW!” Went Mr
Squiding.
“EEEEWWWWWW!” Went
Mrs Squiding.
“EEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW!”
Went Saffron and Rachel. The door
closed and the two girls could hear the Hallowe’en loving adults complaining
about the youth of today and that they should be on to their parents just as
quickly and as soon as they had found the air freshener.
Saffron and Rachel slumped back toward the street. Their costumes slumped along with them. Saffron’s wig and nose were hung crooked and
Rachel’s neck-bolts had gone askew. They
were crestfallen and candy-less. They
didn’t quite know what to do.
“Enjoying Hallowe’en, girls?” Came a snide query from around the
corner. Saffron and Rachel looked up. Agatha Bartholomew and her round friend
walked into view. Agatha was swinging a
now empty egg-basket in one hand and grinning a big broad grin with her face.
“You!” Saffron
exclaimed.
“We might have known,” said Rachel.
“How could you?”
Saffron said, “We’ve been looking forward to Hallowe’en for weeks and
you’ve spoiled it!”
“You’re so mean!”
Said Rachel. Agatha and her round
friend said nothing. They just
laughed. Then they walked up to the
front door of Mr and Mrs Squiding’s house, knocked and expressed their sympathy
and outrage at the behaviour of some of the children in the neighbourhood,
chose some candy (which they then put into the very basket they had used to carried
the eggs in), thanked the Squiding’s and went on their merry way. Saffron and Rachel almost burst in
exasperation. They followed Agatha
Bartholomew and her friend down the street and looked on in astonishment as the
nefarious two swept up Ms Standing’s pathway and carefully knocked on the
slightly less beautiful pink door, shared their bewilderment with the door’s
upset owner and accepted her candy.
Then, they followed Agatha Bartholomew and her round friend to Mr
Turning’s and watched them commiserate with him as he cleaned his door and
accept his candy, too. With frustration
bubbling up inside them, Saffron and Rachel walked home. Their especial bags held no candy at all.
*
Saffron and Rachel sat forlornly on Saffron’s bed in
Saffron’s bedroom. They were
disconsolate. They were
crestfallen. They were downhearted. They were without candy and not enjoying
Hallowe’en one little bit. Saffron
sighed and gave Bruno’s hand a bit of a squeeze. Rachel sighed and gave Bruno’s other hand a
bit of a squeeze. What an appalling
evening it had been. How could Agatha
Bartholomew and her round friend be such spoilsports? How could they be so mean and nasty? Saffron sighed once again, and so did Rachel.
“Um,” said a quiet voice from just up above them, “Are you
going to come up and join in our Hallowe’en party, or not?” Saffron looked up at the enquiring face of
Andrew. Rachel looked up too but her face
was suddenly astonished and her belief in her eyes was somewhat in doubt (and
in her ears too!).
“Oh,” replied Saffron, “Hullo, Andrew. I’d forgotten all about your party. Yes, we’ll be up soon.”
“Who? How? What?
Who? How? What?”
Said Rachel.
“That’s Andrew,” said Saffron, matter of factly, “Come
on. Let’s introduce you.”
“Who? How? What?
Who? How? What?”
Said Rachel, again.
Saffron tucked Bruno under her arm and led the way up the
stairs to the attic. Rachel followed a
few cautious steps behind. At the top of
the stairs, the girls stood before the eggshell blue door and Saffron, wearing
a small smile on her face for the first time since they’d got back from “Trick
or Treating”, went to turn the handle and open it.
“Hang on!” Said
Andrew, appearing through the door, “You need to knock before coming
in…remember? ‘Trick or Treat’ night
tonight!” He smiled and disappeared back
through the door. Just before Saffron
knocked the two girls heard a voice say, “I wish I could go through walls like
that, Andrew. My nose is getting tired
of being so sore!” Saffron giggled. The first giggle since she’d got back from
“Trick of Treating”. She knocked. She invited Rachel to knock too, and then the
two girls sang once again, “Trick or Treat!”
 |
| Andrew introduced Saffron and Rachel to his friends! |
The door opened and the breath was taken out of both Saffron
and Rachel. Smoke twirled and swirled
and dark orange and yellow lighting twisted and turned through the attic. The bunting was in full sway and the cobwebs
were aplenty. Jack’O’Lanterns were hung
all about the place, pumpkins and black cats were everywhere, and the overall
effect was one of a witches coven all blinged up beyond belief.
“Wow!” Went Rachel.
“Wow!” Went Saffron,
“This looks spectacular, guys!” A
witches cauldron bubbled and glooped just by the door. Andrew ladled some of the liquid into cups
for the girls.
“Try it,” he said.
They did. It tasted delicious and
sweet and warm and cool and refreshing all in one go!
“Wow!” Said Rachel,
again.
“Hmmmm,” said Saffron, “That’s yummy!” Andrew smiled and offered the girls a
selection of sweets on a platter. The
girls took handfuls and began to munch and chew. All memories of Agatha Bartholomew and her
round friend were quickly fading.
“Thank you, Andrew,” said Saffron.
“Yes, thank you.”
Said Rachel.
“Oh,” said Saffron, realising she was forgetting her
manners, “Please let me introduce you two.
Rachel, this is Andrew and Andrew, this is Rachel.” Rachel smiled at the lolly-laden ghost.
“A pleasure to meet you, Rachel,” said Andrew with a
bow. Rachel giggled.
“A pleasure to meet you too, Andrew,” said Rachel, “You’re
the very first ghost I’ve ever met!”
“Ah,” said Andrew, “Well, let me rectify that
immediately.” Andrew clapped his hands
twice and the party music quietened. The
Sixteen Stephens lined up to meet their new friend. “Rachel, it gives me immense pleasure to
introduced you to Stephen, Stephen, Stephen, Stephen, Stephen, Stephen,
Stephen, Stephen, Stephen, Stephen, Stephen, Stephen, Stephen, Stephen, Stephen
and, not forgetting, Stephen.” Rachel
was laughing louder with each introduction.
Sixteen Stephens! What a thing!
“So, you’re the Sixteen Stephens and Andrew. It’s lovely to meet you all,” she said, “What
a fantastic party this is! I love the
decorations and lights and music, and the drink was delicious, and so were the
sweets!” The Sixteen Stephens beamed
with delight (except for Stephen Number Eight, who beamed both with delight and
because his belly had never been fuller and was getter even fuller by the
minute!).
“Now,” said Andrew, “I have some of our friends to introduce to you!” Saffron’s eyes sparkled and the grin on her
face stretched her cheeks all the way out.
“May I first introduce, Clarence the Wherewolf…” Andrew gestured to the space right beside him.
“I can’t see anyone!”
Both girls exclaimed, laughing.
“I know!” Agreed
Andrew, “Clarence is a Wherewolf! Where is he?
Smell,” he instructed. The girls
smelled the air, and sure enough there was a bit of a damp dog smell lingering
around. “Look,” Andrew pointed at the
curtains. Sure enough there were dog
hairs stuck to the drapes! But, of
Clarence the Wherewolf, there was no
sign. The girls giggled.
“Next,” Andrew continued, “please let me introduce you to
Count Eric von Suckular!” A high collared,
satin caped, slightly pale-faced man with white, red-rimmed eyes and very pointy
fangs bowed graciously before Saffron and Rachel.
“Ooooooh,” went the girls, “Hello, Mr Count Eric von
Suckular.”
“Hello, young girls,” said Eric von Suckular in the most
outrageous of Eastern European accents, “It is my pleasure to be acquainted
with such gloriously beautiful girls such as yourselves. Your costumes are fantabulous!” The girls looked very pleased with
themselves.
“Count Eric is a Vanpire,”
said Andrew.
“A Vanpire?”
queried Saffron.
“Yes,” Andrew nodded his head, “He sucks the air out of van
tyres. He’s here all the way from
Transitvansylvania!” Saffron and Rachel
laughed out loud and long.
Transitvansylvania, indeed! Eric
the Vanpire, picked up a doughnut and sank his teeth into it as he walked away
from them.
“And this is Gordon the Gargle,” said Andrew, indicating a
stone-like, monstrously ugly creature with particularly fresh breath.
“Gargle?” Asked
Rachel.
“Yes,” said Andrew, “Gordon is meticulous about his dental
hygiene!” The girls smiled and Gordon
gave a nod of approval after minutely inspecting their teeth. A wild-haired man with ragged clothes and
crazed look about his face approached Saffron and Rachel and shook their hands
and shrieked and wailed.
“Ah, yes,” said Andrew, “and this is David Oldthorpe; he’s a
ban-“he”.” The two girls stared at Andrew. “Well, in this day and age, equality is
everything, ladies…” The two girls shrugged.
Shook David Oldthorpe’s hand and let him carry on shrieking.
“Finally,” said Andrew, gesturing toward a man standing in
the corner of the attic, drinking a drink and eating a biscuit, “we have Alan
the Window cleaner.” Saffron and Rachel
were puzzled.
“A window cleaner?”
“That’s right,” said Andrew, “He’s here for the séance,
later on. He’s brought his
squeegee-board.” The two girls groaned
and then laughed again. What a wonderful
cast of characters. What a wonderful
group of friends.
Soon it was time for the first game.
“Right,” announced Stephen Number Twelve, “Time for ‘Bobbin’
For Apples’!”
“Who’s Bobby Four Apples?”
Asked Stephen Number Four.
“Do we get to eat the four apples?” Asked Stephen Number Eight.
“Can I throw a pie at someone?” Asked Stephen Number Ten.
“Humph!” Went Stephen
Number Twelve and he got the barrel out, filled it with water and poured some
apples into it.
“There’s six apples in there, not four,” said an outraged
Stephen Number Nine, “I’ve never known such incompetence!”
“Arrrgh!” Went
Stephen Number Twelve, some steam escaping from his ears. “No,” he explained, “The apples bob in the water, you need to get them
out of the water only using your mouth.”
“What, sort of coax them out, you mean?” Asked Stephen Number Two.
“No!”
“Using your mouth?”
Said an interested Stephen Number Eight, “You mean you have to bite into
them?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I was going to say,” pondered Stephen Number Two,
“you’d have trouble talking to apples…they got no ears…it’s corn you’d want for
that…Bobbin’ For Corn.” Stephen Number
Twelve slowly closed his eyes. He was
amazed at the manner of the brain workings of his fellow Stephens.
“Stand aside,” bellowed Stephen Number Eight and he splashed
his head straight into the barrel of water, squidged his head around and about
a bit and then emerged with all six apples lodged firmly in his mouth. “’Aa ‘Aaaaaaaaaa!” he went and then chomped
and chewed and swallowed. “Next game,
please,” he said, “ How about ‘Bobbin for Rhubarb Crumble’?” The Sixteen Stephens and their guests all
gathered around to see what the next game would be.
 |
| "Next game, please!" |
Saffron and Rachel were watching the ghoulish gathering and
thoroughly enjoying themselves. Saffron
felt a twang of disappointment about the “Trick or Treating” being spoiled
earlier in the evening and it must have shown on her face because Andrew
floated over and asked them about it.
“So, are you going to tell me why you both looked so glum,
earlier on?” Saffron looked at Rachel
and Rachel looked at Saffron, and nodded.
“Well, we went out to do “Trick or Treat” and we thought it
was going to be brilliant and we had our amazing costumes and we had our bags
especially for carrying candy in and it was completely ruined!”
“Ruined?” Asked
Andrew, “How?”
“Well,” said Rachel, carrying on the story, “That bully Agatha Bartholomew and her round friend must’ve been following us; and every time we knocked on a door, before the door got answered, they threw eggs and smashed them all over the place, and the people thought it was us…”
“Well,” said Rachel, carrying on the story, “That bully Agatha Bartholomew and her round friend must’ve been following us; and every time we knocked on a door, before the door got answered, they threw eggs and smashed them all over the place, and the people thought it was us…”
“…And they thought we didn’t know how to do ‘Trick or Treat’
properly…” continued Saffron.
“…But we do know
how to do ‘Trick or Treat’ properly, it was just those bullies spoiling it for
us!...”
“…And in the end they had rotten eggs and they threw them
and it STANK!”
“And then we came home.”
The girls stopped speaking and suddenly they didn’t look quite so happy
any more. Andrew looked cross.
“I think,” he said at last, “I think that someone needs a
lesson about the spirit of Hallowe’en!”
The girls looked up at him.
“What do you mean?”
They chorused.
“Come on,” said Andrew, “we’ll show you.”
*
The Sixteen Stephens, Andrew, Count Eric von Suckular,
Gordon the Gargle, David Oldthorpe, Alan the Window-cleaner, and possibly
Clarence the Wherewolf, were crouched
down behind the fence of Number 17.
“This is the house, yes?” Andrew asked.
“That’s right,” replied Saffron and Rachel, because they
were there too, with Bruno, of course.
“OK,” said Andrew, “Watch this.”
The girls watched as the gruesome gaggle approached Number
17’s front door.
Inside Number 17, Agatha Bartholomew and her round friend
were eating candy and laughing about Saffron and Rachel’s spoiled Hallowe’en.
“…and did you see their faces when the eggs hit the pink
door!” Cackled Agatha Bartholomew.
“Har har!” Went her
round friend.
“…and did you see them shrivel up their noses when the
rotten eggs exploded on Mr and Mrs Squiding’s door!” Cackled Agatha Bartholomew.
“Har har!” Went her
round friend.
“…and did you see the tears in their eyes when they saw us
getting the sweets instead!” Cackled
Agatha Bartholomew.
“Har har!” Went her
round friend.
“What an amazing Hallowe’en,” belched Agatha Bartholomew,
rubbing her tummy and feeling a bit sickly after eating all that candy. Her round friend rubbed her belly too…and
belched.
There was a knock at the door.
“I wonder who’s knockin’ at this time of night?” Snapped Agatha Bartholomew and she stalked to
the front door. She threw it open. There was no one there…just a faint whisper
of damp dog in the air.
“Oh, ha ha,” Agatha Bartholomew pronounced the laughed
sarcastically, “Very funny. You don’t
scare us! We know it’s just a
trick!” And she slammed the door shut
and went to sit back down. Before she
had walked three steps, the door knocked again.
She turned on her heels and strode back to the front door, turned the
handle and flung it open. There was
nothing there.
“Ha ha, again,” she said, with a slightly more vicious air
in his voice this time, “Knocking the door and running away; how very clever,
how very…”
“Boo!” Said Eric von Suckular appearing right in front of her.
“Boo!” Said Eric von Suckular appearing right in front of her.
“AHHHHHH!” Screamed
Agatha Bartholomew, and she shut the door.
“Did that scare you?”
Asked Andrew, his head poking through the door right in front of her
very eyes.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Agatha Bartholomew screamed once again; this
time, her round friend, who could see Andrew too, also joined in.
“What a frightful noise,” said Andrew as he opened the door
for David Oldthorpe to come in. Agatha
Bartholomew and her round friend took one look at the crazed David Oldthorpe
and screamed yet again. David Oldthorpe,
being a ban-“he”, joined in with the
screaming and all three screamed together!
Agatha Bartholomew and her round friend ran up stairs, ran into Agatha
Bartholomew’s bedroom and shut the door tight.
They leaned against the door and shook.
“We must’ve eaten too many sweets,” said Agatha Bartholomew.
“Uh-huh,” agreed her round friend. There was the lightest of taps on Agatha
Bartholomew’s bedroom door. The two girls
squeaked in fear. There was a tap
again. They squeaked once more. Andrew’s head came through the door and
turned and faced them.
“You’re being very rude, you know. Are you going to open up?” He asked.
The girls screamed once more, opened the bedroom door and got ready to
run back downstairs. Before they could
move a muscle, Stephen Number Ten materialised right in front of them. He had a custard pie in each hand and he
flung them with incredible accuracy. Both
Agatha Bartholomew and her round friend wore a custard pie to the face. Sweet, yellow gloop dribbled down their
clothes. They screamed and tried to run
but with their eyes all smudged up with custard, all they did was run into each
other. Andrew laughed and Stephen Number
Ten said those two immortal words…
“FOOD FIGHT!”
The Sixteen Stephens, Eric, Clarence, David Oldthorpe, Alan,
Gordon and Andrew became embroiled in the messiest food fight they’d had in
ages. Custard pies, jelly, trifle, bits
of cake, marshmallows and flan flew right, left and centre. Heads were covered, bodies with smothered,
those who had legs had them layered in gloop and cake. The food was everywhere, in the carpet, on
the windows, behind cupboards, in the remote controls! Everywhere.
It was even in Stephen Number Eight’s mouth. Eventually the food fight subdued. Saffron and Rachel were stood at the
door. They could not believe their eyes.
“Last but not least,” said Stephen Number Ten, and two eggs
appeared in his hands. He floated to the
front door and he threw them. They
splattered, and began to run down the outside of the door. Oh, and yes, they were eggs of the rotten
kind. The smell was disgusting.
“I think I’m gonna be sick!”
Yowled Agatha Bartholomew.
“Bleeureegh!” Went
her round friend.
 |
| FOOD FIGHT! |
“But,” wailed Agatha Bartholomew, “My Mummy and Daddy will
be home soon…Look at all the mess!”
“Well,” Saffron said firmly, “You should have thought of
that before you were so mean to us.”
“That’s right.”
Rachel agreed.
“But,” wailed Agatha Bartholomew, “My Mummy and Daddy will
be home soon and they’ll be really cross!”
Tears began to brim on Agatha Bartholomew’s eyes. Saffron and Rachel folded their arms and
stared at Agatha Bartholomew sternly.
Andrew floated in between them.
He raised his hand and shaped his fingers.
“What are you doing?”
Saffron asked. Andrew said
nothing. He clicked his fingers and the
mess disappeared. The curtains were
clean, the carpet was food-free, and the furniture was messless. Agatha Bartholomew gaped and looked
around. Her round friend’s mouth was as
round as she was. The two girls were
amazed. Saffron and Rachel frowned in
disappointment. But then they smelled. And they smiled. Because, it wasn’t damp dog they smelled. No. It
was egg. Rotten egg,
“Phew!” Went Saffron.
“Cor!” Went Rachel,
holding her nose. The momentary delight
on the faces of Agatha Bartholomew and her round friend evaporated. In its place arrived the constipated faces of
people who could smell rotten eggs…and who also had rotten eggs running all down
the front of their front door.
“There,” Smiled Andrew, “You’ve gotten away with creating
three messes, tonight. I think it’s only
fair you clean up one.” He clicked his
fingers again and a bucket and mop appeared on the doorstep. “You’d better hurry,” Andrew said to Agatha
Bartholomew, “I think I hear the footsteps of an approaching Mummy and Daddy,
donchaknow!” He smiled, “Toodle-pip,” he
said and waved goodbye as he, The Sixteen Stephens and their friends all
disappeared. Saffron and Rachel were
swept up in the air, as if by magic, and whisked away. There was only a minor lingering smell of wet
dog…and rotten egg, of course.
*
Back in the attic, the Hallowe’en party was in full
swing. Stephen Number Twelve had them
all playing Snap Apple and there were shrieks of laughter and, well, just
shrieks from David Oldthorpe, as the apples were chased around with ghosts and
guests trying to bite into them without using their hands. The game was all the better because Stephen
Number Twelve had taken the sensible step of using toffee apples for this
game. Saffron watched on, cwtching Bruno
and giggling at Rachel’s efforts to munch on one of the suspended sweet treats.
“Are you enjoying the party?” Asked Andrew.
“I am, thank you,” said Saffron.
“I am, thank you,” said Saffron.
“That’s good,” Andrew replied, “But, you ain’t seen nothing
yet,” he went on, “Alan! Come on! Get out that squeegee-board of yours, it’s time
for the séance!” Everyone “oooohed!” and
Saffron snuggled down next to where Andrew was sat. “Hey!” Andrew yelled, “You can put that down for a
start!” Stephen Number Fourteen sulkily
put down the jet engine he was trying to get started. “It’s doesn’t have to get all fancy and
complicated… This isn’t rocket séance, you know,” said Andrew and everyone
laughed, well everyone groaned.
It was a happy Hallowe’en!
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