I think I saw fairies in the trees last night, yet this morning nothing’s changed. There’ve been no last-minute phone calls, no cancellations, no more fairy mischief. Today’s the day Darkling Wood gets cut down. All I can hope now is that Ella’s protest works.

I can’t face breakfast. There’s no sign of Nell anywhere. Or Dad. I get my school books and pull on my coat just like normal. Today, though, I’ll be heading down to Bexton village square to meet Ella, and the fact Dad’s car is still blocking the driveway makes this easier because Nell can’t give me a lift.

It’s then I hear voices outside the kitchen window. The first is Nell’s. ‘There’s no mistake, David. I need you to move your car. Mr Giles is coming this morning to start work on Darkling Wood. I’m having it cleared.’

‘Cleared?’

‘That’s right. It’s being cut down. The whole three acres.’

Silence.

Then Dad says something I can’t hear, so, opening the back door, I slip outside. They’ve moved round to the side of the house: I can’t see them, but there’s a crunching sound as someone paces up and down the gravel path.

Nell’s voice is raised. ‘This is my house and my decision.’

‘But there must be a preservation order on those trees! They’re hundreds of years old!’

‘No, David, there isn’t. I’m in the middle of nowhere out here. And they’re a risk to the house. The insurance company says so.’

‘Rubbish! I’ll check with the council myself.’

‘Go ahead,’ says Nell. ‘But you’re not using my phone.’

Dad spits out the words: ‘I can’t believe you’d do it without telling me!’

‘Tell you? Why would I tell you? We don’t speak any more, or have you conveniently forgotten that fact?’

‘Then what are we doing now?’

Silence again.

‘I just can’t believe you’d do this,’ repeats Dad.

‘The trees are going because their roots are threatening the house. If I don’t remove them the insurance company won’t cover me. Besides, the house is dark, the garden’s dark. Nothing grows down here. We get no sun. I’m sick of living in the shadows.’

‘But that wood … that’s my childhood … there, in Darkling Wood!’

Nell sighs heavily. ‘And what a childhood it was, eh? I should’ve had those trees down years ago. Then none of this would’ve happened.’

‘Those trees have been here longer than this house! They’re meant to be there! There’s magic in those woods!’ Dad yells. ‘This is the stupidest thing I’ve EVER heard!’

‘No, David, the stupidest thing was to take something that wasn’t yours!’ Nell shouts back.

Borage presses against my leg. He doesn’t like shouting. Nor do I. It takes me right back to Mum and Dad and how even with my fingers in my ears I still heard them.

‘How can you say that, after what you did?’ Dad cries.

‘Oh, don’t be childish, David.’

I don’t think this is about the trees any more. I creep right up to the corner of the house and peer round. Borage comes too. Dad and Nell are only a few feet away now.

‘You did it without asking anyone,’ Dad says.

‘It was done to help another family,’ Nell says. ‘I can’t believe you don’t realise that, especially now, with Theo.’

I catch my breath. Nell – who never talks about her grandson – has mentioned Theo.

‘But it wasn’t Jacob’s choice, it was yours!’ says Dad.

They’re going too fast. I don’t know anyone called Jacob.

‘Yes,’ Nell says. ‘It was my choice. When your son recovers, maybe you’ll understand.’

‘What if he doesn’t?’

I don’t mean to sob, but it comes out too loud. Nell and Dad both spin round. Borage leaps out from our hiding place, tail wagging.

‘I’ve spoken to you before about prying,’ Nell says, and she’s not talking to the dog.

I don’t move.

‘What are you arguing about? Who’s Jacob?’ I look from her to Dad and back again.

Dad groans.

Very firmly, Nell takes my arm and pushes me towards the house. ‘Get to school, young lady, or I’ll drag you there myself!’

I leave without another word, hot and churned up, and more confused than ever. Flo was right: there is a link between Nell and Dad’s falling out and the woods. Though she’s never mentioned a person called Jacob.

By the time I reach the village square, the church clock is showing half past eight. I’m late. There’s no sign of Ella or anyone from school yet. I can’t have missed her: I walked the usual way through the woods, so I’d have passed her if she’d been there.

I wait a bit longer. By 8.50 a.m. I’m close to tears. She’s not coming. No one is. So much for Ella’s smart badges and her big plans to make a nuisance. I feel stupid for thinking any of it would work. So when the bus for town pulls up, I get on and head for school. There’s nothing more I can do.

*

By the time I reach Ferndean High, I’ve missed the first lesson entirely. The second lesson is History. Ella’s not here.

‘Where’s Ella?’ I whisper to Max.

‘Ill, maybe?’ he says. But I don’t think either of us believes it.

It’s obvious where she is. Somehow I missed her in Bexton this morning, and now I’m stuck here in class and she’s at Darkling Wood saving the trees. I cuss myself for getting on that stupid school bus. Why didn’t I just wait a bit longer? Why didn’t I go back to the wood?

‘Everything okay, Alice?’ Mrs Copeland asks as she leans in to check my homework.

‘Yes, miss,’ I say, but I’m fidgety as anything.

‘Why don’t you take off your coat?’ she says.

Though I do as she says, I really can’t sit still. Stupid, stupid me.

Mrs Copeland skims my book. ‘Did you find someone to do your project on? Can I see your notes?’

‘Ummm … I think they’re here,’ I say, turning pages and pretending to look.

There is no history homework. Mrs Copeland knows it and so do I. My face is burning. I’m such a rubbish liar.

Someone on the back row mutters, ‘Detention,’ under their breath. Mrs Copeland does her teacher glare; it goes quiet again.

‘Let’s talk after class,’ she says to me, and her look tells me she’s spoken to Mr Jennings. She knows the score.

Max lends me a pen and I write the date and learning objective from the board. The lesson starts, but I don’t listen to a word of it. I can’t stop picturing Nell’s trees toppling to the ground. It makes my head hurt.

Then there’s a knock at the door and Mr Jennings comes in. Automatically people smooth their shirts down and tighten their ties, but he’s not here to check our uniform. He goes straight to Mrs Copeland. Dipping their heads, they talk quietly in that way teachers do, and I wonder if she’s telling him about my homework. But then Mrs Copeland looks at me, and her expression isn’t angry; it’s soft and kind. My legs turn instantly to water.

This isn’t about homework. Something’s happened to Theo.

I feel my whole body go cold.

‘Come with me please, Alice,’ Mr Jennings says. His eyes flick left and right. ‘Bring your things, and a friend if you like.’

Suddenly I don’t want to leave the room. I want the lesson to keep going as if nothing’s wrong. I’d rather be stuck here forever.

Max is already on his feet. He helps me stand up.

‘Come on, Alice,’ he says, tucking his arm through mine.

We follow Mr Jennings back to his office. By the time we get there, my teeth are chattering. Mr Jennings shuts the door and offers Max and me seats, then perches on the edge of his desk.

‘We’ve had a call from your mother,’ Mr Jennings says. ‘She tried to contact your grandmother first but couldn’t get a reply. I’m afraid things aren’t too good at the hospital. Your brother’s condition has deteriorated.’

His voice sounds distant. Like he’s talking to another person in another room. My heart starts to beat very fast. Mr Jennings offers me a tissue; I take it for something to do with my hands.

‘You’ll probably want to go home,’ Mr Jennings says. ‘We’ll get someone to collect you, shall we?’

‘Who?’ I say. ‘My dad’s waiting for the garage to fix his car. It’s blocking the driveway. No one can get in or out.’

‘My dad could pick you up and take you home,’ says Max. ‘He’s working at Darkling Wood today. I’ll try his mobile.’

‘Your dad?’

‘Sure, if it’ll help.’

I picture the man in the luminous orange coat who was there making notes that day Flo and I hid from Nell. I stare at Max. ‘So … wait … your dad’s the tree surgeon?’

‘Yup.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

Max shrugs a shoulder. ‘I thought … I dunno … it might complicate things.’

I grit my teeth. Right now I’d like to shake him, but before I can stop myself, tears roll down my face. Everything is jumbled up. It shouldn’t be happening like this.

I did what Flo wanted me to. I believed in fairies – I mean, I must have, because those green shapes in the trees last night were fairies, I’m sure of it. She said if I believed it would make their magic stronger. She said they could save the wood.

If the wood was saved there’d be no more bad luck. No more fairy tricks like fences being taken apart or cars breaking down. No more talk of revenge. That’s what I believed.

But it’s like we’ve skipped a stage. Things have gone too fast. We’re already at the terrible part: cut down the wood, Flo said, and the fairies won’t just work magic any more, they’ll be out for revenge.

And now it’s happening. This is the worst, most awful luck. It’s the thing I’ve feared more than anything. Theo is getting sicker. But it’s not meant to be like this.

I breathe in. Breathe out.

There must still be something we can do.