Emily had managed to find the library, which was no small feat considering the shop had a habit of hiding rooms or shrinking them. It had also been known to change its layout and, every now and then, even its decor.
So it was with a sense of relief that she pushed open a door to see Fidget sitting at a desk studying a huge, leather-bound book.
That summer, before Billy Buckle turned up, Emily had been helping Fidget learn to read again. He had been able to once, when he had worked for the old magician who designed the shop, but since being turned into a cat, he had somewhat lost interest. Now, along with knitting, reading was high on the list of things Fidget liked doing. Not quite as high as eating fish-paste sandwiches—but then, nothing much was.
Fluttering around him were thin, flighty books, some dancing from one shelf to another. Most of the novels were looking serious as they watched two history books about war having a fight. Emily went over to the books and sorted them out. It was just that they should never have been put next to each other.
Emily loved books, even quarrelsome ones, but especially books with pictures in them. Lots and lots, so the pages weren’t too thick with words. There were no pictures in the book that Fidget was busily studying.
“What are you doing?” asked Emily.
“Trying to work out who the owners of the half-pairs of wings are,” said Fidget.
Emily stared at the list of names.
“What do the crosses mean?” she asked.
“They belong to those fairies who can’t read or write,” said Fidget.
“Wouldn’t it be better,” said Emily, “if we put all these names in a computer file? Including the crosses, of course.”
Fidget thought for a moment, then said, “Will the names fade on the screen?”
“No,” said Emily.
“Then how would we know which fairy has been back to collect his or her wings?”
“Can’t we just put a line through their names?”
“Buddleia,” said Fidget. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Do you think there might be a book here about the habits and pastimes of giants?” asked Emily.
“Shush,” said Fidget as Primrose came in carrying Doughnut. They both looked miserable—Doughnut because he had been dressed up in a tutu and a hat, Primrose because she missed her dad and wanted to go home.
“Daddy should have come back to collect me by now,” said Primrose. “I mean, he would never just leave me here—I know he wouldn’t. He promised. You can’t break a promise. Never, ever, ever.”
Oh no, thought Emily, seeing Primrose’s lower lip begin to wobble. The last time she had cried, she left puddles of tears everywhere. It had taken a pail and a mop to clean them up. There really was no end to the trouble caused by living with a growing giantess. Her bed had broken two nights ago, and yesterday she used seventeen towels to dry herself after her shower. The cereal dishes didn’t hold enough cornflakes to satisfy her appetite, so this morning Fidget had to give her a washing-up bowlful. She was eating them out of house and home.
“Let’s go downstairs,” said Emily brightly.
“I want my daddy,” said Primrose, tears welling in her eyes.
“Why don’t we call your mother?” said Emily. “Do you have her number?”
Primrose began to wail.
“Oh dear,” said Emily.
“Best not to mention Mum,” whispered Fidget. “She left for India with her lady friend. They’ve gone to find themselves.”
Emily took Primrose’s hand. “I know how you feel—sort of.”
“You do?” said Primrose.
“Yes, I think so. Because my parents left me behind in a hatbox at Stansted Airport.”
Fidget said, “I’d let that particular fish off the hook if I were you, my little ducks.”
“You mean, they didn’t come back? Ever?” said Primrose.
“I’m sure they meant to,” said Emily. “But … I found Fidget—or rather, Fidget found me.”
“I want my daddy,” wailed Primrose. “I want to go home!”
Fidget put his paw on Primrose’s arm and handed her a handkerchief.
“I know your dad would never leave you. He’s gotten a bit lost, that’s all. And we’re doing everything we can to find him.”
“What do you mean—lost?” said Primrose, blowing her nose into Fidget’s red-and-white-spotted hankie.
“Er, well…,” said Fidget. Doughnut gazed up at him sadly. “Um … I think we should go and buy some ice cream and build a sand castle. Paddle in the sea, that sort of thing.”
Primrose brightened a little. “When will he be here, my daddy?”
“Soon, very soon—I’m sure of it,” said Fidget. “In less than a twirl of a cat’s whisker.”
Doughnut ran out of the library, the tutu and hat trailing behind him, followed by a slightly more cheerful Primrose.
When they had left, Emily turned to Fidget.
“Do you think that’s what my parents did?” she asked.
“What, my little ducks?”
“Went off to find themselves, like Primrose’s mum?”
“No,” said Fidget. He stood up and gave Emily a big hug.
“So maybe I will never know who they are?”
“Maybe not,” said Fidget. “But you can never tell what’s around the corner.”
Emily took a deep breath and told Fidget what had been worrying her. Since she had drawn back the curtains and found they were no longer in Podgy Bottom, an unsettling thought wouldn’t leave her: that one day the shop might wander off without her, and she would be left all alone in the world.
“That will never, ever happen,” said Fidget. “As long as there are fishes in the sea, I will always be with you. Always.”
Emily felt a tear roll down her face. She wasn’t at all keen on tears. They could be seen as soppy, especially by Buster.
“Now, ice cream all around,” said Fidget, taking her hand in his paw.
They went downstairs.
“Where are you going?” asked Buster, sticking his head out of his bedroom.
“To the beach,” said Emily.
“Oh, goody gumdrops. I’ll come too.”
Emily rather hoped he wouldn’t. Buster was very good at putting a crease in the day. But he followed them down.
“Oh, leave me behind, then,” shouted the magic lamp from the landing. “That’s right! Just go off and have fun while I look after the sick keys.”
“Come with us,” said Emily.
“I can’t. I have a shop to run. Someone has to stay behind while you’re out enjoying yourselves,” said the magic lamp. “I would have expected better of you, dear mistress, than to leave me like this. Have you even thought about the keys?”
“Yes, she has,” said Fidget as he gathered inflatable rings, towels, sunscreen, and hats. “Let’s go. We all need fresh air, and Primrose needs a bit of fun.”
“Is this a good idea?” said Emily. “I mean, we will stand out.”
“My little ducks,” said Fidget firmly, “half the people we bump into don’t believe in magic, and they are not going to change their minds because they see a talking cat and a giant’s daughter. We are off to the beach with Primrose, and that’s the end of it.”