Unexpected things often happened at Wings & Co., but the shop itself was still able to spring a surprise.
It had been built on four stout iron legs, and at the end of each leg were three griffin’s talons, so the shop could dig its way out of its foundations and go walking if it felt like it. Not that Emily had ever known it to do so. Ever since she had taken over the shop, it had stayed firmly in Podgy Bottom.
But that Wednesday morning, she woke to find the sun shining through her curtains, which in itself was strange because not much sun ever came into the dark alleyway in Podgy Bottom. And never had she heard the sound of waves splashing outside her bedroom window. Emily leaped out of bed and pulled back her curtains to find the view completely changed. She was staring at a sea that sparkled with white-flecked waves.
This was so unexpected that for a moment she couldn’t believe her eyes. She closed her curtains again and, with butterflies fluttering in her tummy, opened them for a second time. The view was still the same. Just across the road, there was a beach with donkeys and children with buckets and shovels. Better still, Emily could see a pier with a big Ferris wheel on it.
“Fidget,” she called as she opened her bedroom door. “Fidget!”
She ran down the passage and collided with the cat.
“We’ve moved, my little ducks,” said Fidget, lifting Emily off her feet and giving her a hug. “The old shop has decided to go walking.” He put Emily down. “It seems it needed a bit of a holiday.”
“Oh, yippee!” cried Emily. She stopped. “Oh, whoops. We have a case to solve. And I don’t even know where we are.”
Buster came sleepily out of his bedroom.
“There is a pair of eyes looking at me through the curtains, and those eyes weren’t there last night.”
“We have moved to the seaside,” said Fidget.
“That still doesn’t explain why two creepy eyes are looking in at me. Plus, there is a terrible noise coming from outside. A noise with screams attached.”
The door on the landing flew open. The magic lamp marched out wearing a pair of sunglasses and an inflatable ring around its middle. Behind it were the keys, all in a row.
“We are going to dip our toes in the sea,” said the magic lamp with a skip and a hop. “Hi-de-ho! We are on holiday!”
“Wait a mo,” said Buster. “Saltwater and an old brass lamp. Isn’t that a recipe for rust?”
“Don’t be a cloud on my sunny day,” said the lamp, walking toward the stairs, only to be sent spinning when Doughnut the dog rushed up from the shop, wagging his tail.
“Oh, really,” said the magic lamp. “Why can’t that dog ever look where he’s going?”
“Come on,” said Fidget to Emily. “Get dressed and let’s find out where we are.”
“Hold on,” said Emily. “Haven’t we forgotten someone?”
“Who?” asked Buster.
“Primrose,” said Emily.
“Buddleia,” said Fidget. “This puts a cod in the works. What are we going to do now?”
“What’s the problem?” asked Buster.
“We need to find Billy Buckle—and fast,” said Emily. “Remember? Primrose’s dad is missing.”
“Oh, that,” sighed Buster. “Not much of an investigation for a detective such as I.”
“Then why haven’t you solved it already?” asked Emily.
“Simply because there is nothing to solve,” said Buster. “Billy Buckle met up with his chums and forgot the time. I bet he’ll be back tomorrow. Won’t he, Fidget?”
Fidget didn’t look quite so sure.
“Hmm,” he said.
“How will he find us?” said Emily. “We have moved, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Look,” said Buster, “this is no big deal. If I were Primrose’s father, I would need more than a weekend away. I mean, I would need months and months and months away.”
“She is only six. I expect you were whiny when you were six,” said Emily.
“He certainly was grumpy,” said Fidget.
“No, I wasn’t. I was charm itself. Anyway, I don’t care how old she is. She’s jolly irritating, that’s all I’m saying. I bet you Billy Buckle is having a rock-rolling party somewhere.”
Emily sighed. At times, working with Buster was most trying.
The guest bedroom door opened and there stood Primrose. She had a button nose and freckles, and her hair hung down in braids. She was clinging to a sheepskin rug that she called Raggy. She was twice as tall as Emily, and growing taller daily. Already there had been no end of problems on account of Primrose’s size. She wasn’t used to living over a small shop where she could bang her head on the ceiling. And Wings & Co. was so crammed full of bits and pieces that it was very hard indeed for her not to send something or other flying.
“Where are we?” asked Primrose, rubbing her eyes.
“Um … the shop felt in need of a holiday,” said Fidget, “and has taken a little walk.”
“Is that a good thing?” asked Primrose.
“Er … yes?” said Fidget.
“But how will my dad find us? Won’t he go back to where he left me? And what then?” said Primrose.
Emily smiled weakly. “Don’t worry, Primrose,” she said. “We have everything under control.”
At that moment, the magic lamp came trotting back up the stairs from the front door.
“My day is ruined—ruined, I tell you. The front door won’t open. I have pulled; I have pushed. And so have the keys. The shop has gone into lockdown.” The lamp stamped its little foot. “Why?” it said. “That’s what I would like to know. Why?”
So would I, thought Emily.