Gemma and Karl were lying on the old merry-go-round in the park, eating jelly beans and looking up into the blue spring sky over Lonchester.

“Give us a push, Gem,” said Karl. “We’re stopping.”

Gemma kicked out lazily at the concrete with one of her superlong legs and started the merry-go-round turning again.

Karl bit a yellow jelly bean in half and sighed.

“April vacation at home with nothing to do but watch Auntie Nat read horoscopes. . . .”

“I’d swap you a year with your auntie’s horoscopes for two weeks with my pimply brother.”

Gemma gave them another push and the merry-go-round creaked on. “Where is Meera, anyway?” she said through a mouthful of red jelly beans. “She said to meet at three o’clock and it’s twenty after now.”

“I’m right here!” Meera ran out of the trees and jumped onto the merry-go-round, sending it spinning wildly. “And I’ve got some good news. This could be the year we start our farm!”

From either side of her, Karl and Gemma both groaned.

“Meera, we don’t have any animals,” said Karl.

“And if we did have any animals, where would we keep them?” added Gemma. “My dad’s toolshed?”

“Or the balcony of Auntie’s apartment?” added Karl.

“But if we did have somewhere to keep them,” said Meera, sitting bolt upright, “that would be a start, wouldn’t it?”

“But finding somewhere is the difficult part,” said Karl gloomily. “We’ve always known that.”

“Well,” said Meera, her eyes starting to sparkle, “I think I have found somewhere! My Auntie Priya works in the city-council offices and she told me about it. There’s an old railway station down by the canal that’s been closed for years. There are buildings to keep animals in and grassy parts for grazing. It sounds perfect.”

“But the city council would never let us have a place like that,” said Gemma.

“It’s probably just ruins covered in brambles,” added Karl.

Meera ignored their objections. “It can’t hurt to go and have a look though, can it?” she said.

But Gemma and Karl still looked doubtful.

“I know!” said Meera, leaping off the merry-go-round. “Let the jelly beans decide!” She snatched the bag from Gemma and struck a pose like an actor on a stage.

“I veel close my eyes. I veel hold out zee magical bag of jelly beans. . . .” Meera paused dramatically. Peeking between her eyelashes, she could see that Karl and Gemma were now both watching her and starting to laugh — she’d gotten them! — “And if zee next jelly bean I pull from zee bag eez green, you veel be bound by jelly-bean magic to accompany me on my quest for our farm!”

Meera pointed in Karl’s direction.

“Drumroll please, Karl!”

Karl drummed his fingers on the old merry-go-round, and Gemma provided a trumpet fanfare with a rolled-up newspaper she had found.

Meera reached into the bag with her other hand, paused dramatically, and pulled out . . . a green jelly bean!

“Ta-da!”

Karl and Gemma clapped and got off the merry-go-round. Sometimes, you just had to do what Meera wanted, even if you knew that the jelly bean had to be green because none of them liked the lime-flavored ones.