Christmas Fairy

Christmas Fairy by Titania Woods Read Free Book Online

Book: Christmas Fairy by Titania Woods Read Free Book Online
Authors: Titania Woods
worried about her. If only she could get a message to them!
    But how could she? Fairies always used butterflies to send messages to each other, but Twink knew they were specially chosen, sprinkled with fairy dust. Ordinary butterflies were all hibernating now. Getting a message to her family was hopeless!
    Unless . . . Twink gasped as a memory came to her. When she’d been a first-year pupil, she’d befriended a wasp called Stripe, who had called to her with his mind when he’d needed help. Miss Shimmery, their HeadFairy, had explained it was the magic of friendship that made it possible.
    Twink’s heart beat wildly. Could she do the same thing? Maybe if she tried calling to Bimi, her best friend would hear her! Closing her eyes, Twink thought fervently, Bimi, it’s me! I’m trapped in a human house, but I’m all right. Please tell my parents that I’m OK, and I’m trying to get home!
    Over and over, Twink thought the words, sending them out with as much force as she could muster. She imagined Bimi receiving them, and the mix of relief and concern that would be on her best friend’s face as she realised the trouble Twink was in.
    Finally Twink stopped, holding her breath. She knew Bimi would certainly call back if she had heard her. Please, Bimi, answer me , she thought.
    She waited for a long time, hopeful and alert. But no answer came. There was only the slight sound of Clarence’s snores, and the occasional sound of cars passing outside.

    At last Twink’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Well, that was that. And she had tried so hard! Maybe calling with your mind only worked between a fairy and a wasp.
    Looking out of the window, Twink saw the winter stars fading from the sky. She must have been trying to call Bimi for ages. She tapped the fairy decoration, and watched her holly wings sparkle as she swung back and forth.
    ‘Stupid of me, eh?’ she whispered.
    The painted fairy didn’t respond. Twink sighed. It was back to the doll’s house, then. And she might as well get used to it – it looked as if she was going to be living there for a long time!

Chapter Seven
    ‘I’ve got something for you,’ said Lindsay.
    Twink looked up. It was the next afternoon, and she was sitting perched on the doll’s house chimney, trying not to feel sorry for herself.
    ‘What?’ she asked, managing a smile.
    Lindsay drew a hand out from behind her back. ‘Ta-da!’ she said.
    Twink’s eyes widened. Lindsay was holding out a slim, gaily-wrapped package half as tall as Twink, decorated with a gleaming golden bow.
    ‘What is it?’ she asked in wonder.
    ‘A Christmas present, silly!’ Lindsay giggled. ‘I know today’s only Christmas Eve – but – oh, Twink, just open it!’
    Maybe it was something to help her get home! Leaping to her feet, Twink held out both hands as Lindsay gave her the package – and then stared blankly at its clear, sticky fastening.
    ‘Here, I’ll do it!’ cried Lindsay. She tore open the package as Twink fluttered beside her, craning to see. ‘There!’ said the girl with a triumphant grin.
    Twink’s spirits fell. It was only a comb – a tiny white one, made of that material called ‘plastic’ humans were so fond of. She smiled weakly. ‘Lindsay, thank you! Where did you get it?’

    ‘It’s for one of my dolls,’ explained Lindsay. ‘I just found it again this morning. Here, try it!’
    Though much too small for a human, Twink still had to use both hands to draw the comb through her long pink hair. Even so, it felt lovely to groom it – she had been feeling as scruffy as an old crow.
    ‘Thanks, Lindsay,’ she said again, meaning it this time. ‘It was really nice of you to think of me.’
    Lindsay sat cross-legged on the carpet as she watched Twink comb her hair. ‘I just wish I could help you get home again,’ she sighed. ‘Oh, it’s not fair. Wishes should always come true at Christmas!’
    ‘They should?’ Twink looked up with interest. This was an aspect of

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