12

Into Wonderland

The toy shop door had a letterbox at its base with a conveniently loose spring on the flap, so it was easy for Gafferty and Gobkin to push themselves through and into the shop. For several minutes they just stood on the doormat and stared open-mouthed.

They knew of Clabbity’s from tales told by Mum and Dad, and had been promised a trip there when Grub was older. But their parents’ stories hadn’t quite prepared them for the spectacle that lay before them. It was the Smidgen version of a theme park, a magical wonderland of little people’s dreams made real. From the shelves laden with farm animals, construction kits, model robots and dinosaurs to the display cases filled with doll’s houses, spaceships and racing cars, they were surrounded by delights, many of which could have been made especially for Smidgens. Nothing second-hand or scavenged, patched up or repaired. All was bright, shiny and new.

Mum and Dad could have easily furnished the House with the entire contents of the Belinda Blonde doll’s Fantasy Apartment (including beds, wardrobes, sofas, curtains and matching sugar-pink plastic chihuahua). But the Smidgens knew they should only take what wouldn’t be missed, and depriving children of toys seemed a bit mean, so Clabbity’s was off limits. Gafferty and Gobkin wandered through the shop in amazement, content to take in all the astonishing sights.

A tiny train busily threaded its way in and out of the other toys as its track led it on an unending circuit around the room. Stuffed animals of every type with soft fur and cheery glass eyes sat arranged around a tea table. Wooden puppets dressed in brilliantly patterned clothes hung from the rafters as if in flight. A floor-to-ceiling net containing footballs of all sizes and colours towered over everything. Any toy you could imagine was there, waiting to be taken home, played with and cherished.

‘It’s … it’s brilliant!’ said Gafferty, finally finding her voice.

‘Can we live here?’ asked Gobkin. ‘Like, forever?’

Today, the shop was almost empty. There were no customers, but muffled sounds came from a room at the back of the shop where the shopkeeper – an old lady, according to Mum – appeared to be sorting through boxes. Gafferty knew the town’s children would be coming out of their school soon, and it wouldn’t be too long before they arrived and made things dangerous for the Smidgens. Children were sharp-eyed and, unlike their parents, wouldn’t be easily fooled by the creepy-crawly disguises.

‘We can’t stay long,’ she said. ‘And we don’t want to spoil our trip here with Mum and Dad. They’ll be upset if they work out we’ve been here without them.’

‘Can’t we at least have a go on Action Dan’s Turbo Helicopter?’ said Gobkin, running towards a display stand filled with action figure accessories. ‘I’ve no idea what it is but the box says it’s got Battle Sound FX and Maximum Karnage Rockets, which sound very impressive!’

Gafferty rolled her eyes.

‘OK then, but be quick,’ she said, as Gobkin climbed on to the stand. ‘I’ll keep searching for the moot. It can’t be in the shop itself. There must be a cellar or something.’

She inspected the floor around them, seeking evidence of Smidgen activity – mouseholes, cracks in the wall, doors made to look like electrical sockets. The floor was covered in an old worn carpet that didn’t fit properly, leaving a gap against one wall and exposing the wooden floorboards. There wasn’t enough of a space between the boards for Gafferty to squeeze through, but she could at least have a peek and find out if there was anything worth exploring below.

She knelt by the skirting board and peered into the darkness under the floor. It was no good – she’d need a light to see anything down there. If there was anything. She was beginning to doubt if this was the right location after all. A toy shop did seem a bit unlikely.

As she got to her feet, her eye was drawn to some scratches in the skirting board – not scratches, she realised, but a carving. Far too small for Big Folk to notice. A triangle, a circle and another upside-down triangle. The symbols from the book, the symbols Gafferty had guessed represented the three clans! Smidgens had been here before.

Did the presence of all three symbols mean that all three clans had been here together, meeting up for the Smidgenmoot? Her hopes began to rise. Still, there was no clue to where the Smidgenmoot might be. She looked closer at the carving. The circle was more strongly outlined, the shape scored deeply into the wood. It was a button. She reached out to press it then quickly withdrew her hand as the shop bell clattered noisily. The door opened. Customers!

Please let Gobkin remember Rule One of the Smidgens, thought Gafferty as she threw herself behind a huge teddy bear that sat on the floor. Stay hidden and observe. She risked a glance, silently parting the toy’s thick fur like a hunter might stalk their prey through long grass.

The customer was an unlikely toy buyer. A tall woman elegantly dressed in a long coat and wearing sunglasses. An unusual necklace of coloured glass beads rattled as she stepped into the shop. Gafferty watched as the customer scanned the room, her dark glasses mirroring the colourful objects on display. She was looking for something, but Gafferty wasn’t sure it was a new toy she was after. There was a malevolent air to this lady. She loomed over the model of a castle, overshadowing its defenceless toy soldiers, like a giantess from a fairytale.

‘They must be here,’ she said, as if talking to an invisible companion. She lowered her glasses and her eyes darted back and forth from shelf to shelf. ‘The spell worked, didn’t it?’

Gafferty gripped the teddy tightly. The spell? Who was this lady? And who was she talking to? Then, to Gafferty’s horror, the woman moved towards the display of action figures, towards the helicopter her brother was so keen to try out.

‘They’re close,’ she said. ‘I know it! The Smidgens are here somewhere! And if they’re here, perhaps the Mirror of Trokanis is nearby too.’

‘She’s some kind of witch!’ Gafferty gasped. ‘And she’s hunting for us – oh no, Gobkin! What have I done?’

Her brother was in trouble and it was all her fault.