cried. He could hardly believe that with all the other things that had gone wrong, Lindsay had ambushed them two days running. This time she really had appeared out of thin air.
Lindsay made a huffy face. “I have a seat by the window and I saw you running off. I thought there might be some fun going on, so I left when Mr Guthrie wasn’t looking. I mean, who ever died from not learning hieroglyphics?”
“Nobody yet!” Greg said pointedly.
“Greg, be nice to her,” Lewis whispered, pulling his brother aside. “We could use her help.”
“To do what? Style our hair?”
“Look, she’s harmless. If we let her tag along, maybe she knows something that could help us out.”
Greg looked dubious, but grudgingly nodded. He turned to Lindsay with a smile that wouldn’t have fooled anyone but her.
“Lindsay, you look nice. Your outfit, your hair, your, uh…wings. Nice.”
Lindsay beamed radiantly for a second then vanished. Greg let out a yelp when she reappeared only centimetres from his face.
“Sorry, Greg,” Lindsay apologised, clasping her hands together and lowering her eyes. “Sometimes I just twinkle without meaning to.”
Greg tried to stop himself making a sickly face.
“Twinkle?”
Lindsay nodded shyly. “That’s what we fairies call it.”
“It’s a good trick, Lindsay,” said Lewis.
“Oh, it’s something any fairy can do,” Lindsay responded modestly.
“You see,” Lewis said into Greg’s ear, “she can
twinkle!”
“Yes, that’s going to be a big help,” Greg answered sceptically.
“So why did you run out of school?” Lindsay asked.
“It’s Lokiday,” Lewis said nonchalantly, “so we thought we’d take the rest of the day off.”
“We’re going to go home and relax,” said Greg, “take a nap, watch some TV.”
“What’s teevee?” Lindsay asked naively.
“You know, where you watch those singing shows and that thing about the models,” said Lewis.
Lindsay gave him a blank stare.
“Never mind,” Lewis said.
A thoughtful look came across his face as they carried on down the street with Lindsay hovering above them. “Lindsay, do you remember when we met around here yesterday?”
“What’s yesterday?” Lindsay asked unconcernedly. She was still looking at Greg.
“The day before today,” Lewis said.
“And today’s Lokiday,” Lindsay said.
“Right,” Lewis agreed.
“So what do you want to know?”
“It was your idea to let her tag along,” Greg muttered.
“The spell’s clouded her mind,” Lewis surmised.
“She had a head start on that.”
They walked along to the accompaniment of Lindsay’s chatter about the latest fairy fashions, gossip about what some of the elves at school were up to and her mum’s new crystal ball.
Greg tried to ignore her. “Have you come up with a plan yet other than letting Tinkerbell follow usaround?” he demanded of Lewis.
Lewis hummed uncertainly. “I’ve got lots of information about time stored on my computer as part of my project. If I could get to it, maybe it could help us sort things out.”
“Why should your computer be there? It’s probably turned into a toadstool or something.”
“Not everything’s changed. Your room’s stayed the same and mine’s right next door. Even downstairs some of the furniture’s the same. It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”
Greg glanced up at Lindsay and said, “Anything’s worth a try.”
When they turned the corner into Bannock Street, Greg stuck out an arm to stop Lewis going any further. Parked in front of their house was a coach painted red and green led by two tethered goats. As big as horses, they were busily devouring the front hedge.
In the driver’s seat sat a tall figure in a leather coat with a long, sharp face that looked like it was made of ice. He wiped away a drip from his icicle of a nose and made a half-hearted effort to pull the goats away from the bushes.
“What’s that doing there?” Lewis asked.
“I’ll bet it’s got