CHAPTER TWELVE

‘Now,’ the dragon said, ‘take me to my new friend! I am missing Princess Sarah terribly already.’

Feeling rather nervous, Ben told the dragon the way to the witch’s house. For, of course, the new friend Ben had been thinking about was the witch’s grey cat. He could only hope that the cat would consent to being a dragon’s companion, instead of an old, absentminded witch’s.

The cat was fast asleep on the wall and not at all happy to be woken up by a dragon. When it had had the situation explained to it, however, the cat stopped hissing and arching its back, and began to purr.

‘You do not have any other cats, do you?’ it asked. ‘The old lady with whom I reside has, unfortunately, nine other cats, and I do feel that my abilities are rather under-appreciated with so much competition.’

‘No other cats,’ the dragon promised.

‘What about dogs?’ the cat said, licking its back with an air of unconcern.

‘No dogs, I’m pleased to say.’

‘Delightful,’ said the cat, tidying up its tail, which had been startled into a shape three times its natural size at the sight of the dragon. ‘My owner . . . I mean, my witch has five dogs, all of whom have puppies at distressingly regular intervals.’

‘Surely a lapse of good taste,’ the dragon replied. The cat’s purr grew noticeably louder. ‘Are there, by any chance, mice in your cave?’ it asked then, hopefully.

‘Far too many,’ the dragon said. ‘They disturb my sleep with their squeaking.’

‘I’d be happy to solve that problem for you,’ the cat purred. ‘I do have a particular predilection for chasing mice.’

‘Marvellous,’ said the dragon. ‘I would appreciate that.’

‘I’ll want a bed of satin cushions,’ it said, ‘and a bowl of cream every day.’

‘Twice a day,’ the dragon said.

‘And pilchards, of course.’

‘Of course.’

‘Smoked trout?’

‘Any time you please.’

‘And perhaps the occasional prawn head?’

‘It would be my pleasure.’

The cat smiled, showing very sharp white teeth. ‘No, no, I declare, the pleasure is all mine,’ it answered.

‘So you’ll go?’ Ben asked hopefully.

The cat yawned. ‘Certainly,’ it answered with dignity. ‘Anything to help.’

‘Oh, thank you!’ Ben cried.

The cat unfurled its tail and leapt gracefully from the wall to the dragon’s head, sitting between its horns. ‘I’ve always wanted to fly,’ it purred. ‘Up, up and away!’

The last stop was home. Tim was fast asleep, curled up in the dragon’s claws with his hand gripping his sword and a smile on his face. James was grinning from ear to ear too and, looking back at the mound of treasure weighing down the flying carpet, Ben couldn’t keep the smile off his face either.

They buried the treasure in the sandpit, then waved goodbye to the cat and the dragon, who flew up into the rising sun like a flaming arrow. Then, dragging the rug behind them, they crept inside, Tim still half-asleep. They were halfway up the stairs when the phone rang. They ran like the wind and had just managed to jump into their beds when Ben’s mum came running in to tell them that Sarah had been found, safe and well. She did not seem to think it strange that Tim was wearing his pirate’s hat in bed.

Most of the morning was spent taking James home and listening to the grown-ups making a fuss over Sarah, who, despite being banned from any play dates for a month, was looking very pleased with herself. This may have been due to the sparkly tiara she wore on her head, or the fact that her mum and dad could not stop hugging and kissing her.

All Ben could think about was the treasure in the sandpit. He was wondering how to explain it to his parents. In the end he decided to dig a big hole in the garden and pretend he’d found the treasure there. After all, he thought, his mum was always turning up old coins and bits of broken china when she was gardening.

So, later that day, Ben and Tim set about methodically digging a huge hole under the lemon tree. When their parents saw what they had done, they were absolutely furious – until they saw the treasure. Their mum sat down in all the mud and dirt with her mouth open and said not a single word, a most unusual thing for Ben and Tim’s mum.

‘But where can it have come from?’ she asked when she could at last speak again. ‘What’s it doing under our lemon tree?’

‘It’s the lost family treasure,’ Ben said solemnly. ‘Remember that story?’

‘No,’ their mum said uncertainly, for she told so many stories it was hard to remember them all.

‘Well, that’s what it is,’ Ben said. ‘So we’ll be able to buy that big house now, with a garden big enough for me to have a dog, won’t we?’

‘And me!’ Tim said.

‘I guess so,’ their mum said.

‘We’ll be able to buy ten houses!’ their dad said, running his hands through a sack of gold coins.

‘I only want one,’ Ben said. ‘With a garden big enough for a dog.’

And that’s how Ben’s wish finally came true.