The Magic Clock

By Ellen Holden

Tilly and George shrink in size with the striking of the grandfather clock and this time they meet up with and help a family of mice desperate to move from the house in which they have been living beneath the floorboards after a stray cat takes up residency.
The children set off with the mice on an eventful journey. On the way they meet Bitz, a scary, hairy bluebottle, Sloop, a kindly water vole, a vindictive and temperamental frog, not to mention several other intriguing characters.
Their journey takes them along fast-flowing rivers, through windswept dunes, into captivity and finally freedom. Need I say more .........

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ellen Holden
• Release date: Jun 18, 2014

Book preview

THE MAGIC CLOCK

By Ellen M James

The Magic Clock

Published by Ellen M James at Smashwords

Copyright © Ellen M James 2014

All rights reserved

Smashwords Edition, Licence Notes

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only then please return it to your favourite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

NOTE 1

All characters and events in this publication are purely fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or not, is purely coincidental.

NOTE 2

Special thanks to Teresa Witz (artist) for assistance with book cover.

Other Books written by Ellen M James

The Magic Bubbles

The Magic of Pan

The Magic Calling Crystal

Molly and the Grumpy Angel

The Grumpy Angel Strikes Again

The Other House

CHAPTER ONE

Aaaaaaargh! screamed Tilly.

George dashed into the kitchen to find out what was happening. Tilly stood rooted to the spot, her hands clasped tightly to her chest and her face a picture of shock and terror.

Well, what is it? asked George impatiently. What could possibly have upset her now?

It ran over my foot! exclaimed Tilly.

What did?

A mouse, of course! What do you think?

Oh, is that all? George shrugged his shoulders in exasperation. Tilly’s behaviour seemed to be getting worse as she was getting older. She used to be fun to be with, now she was acting like such a girl.

Last year they had had an amazing adventure together in their house by the sea. This was the second time that they had visited the house for their holidays and Tilly seemed to have forgotten everything that had happened there. Or at least, if she remembered, she refused to talk about it. George sighed.

Come on, it sounds as if Mum has just returned with the shopping. Let’s go and help her.

He stood behind Tilly and propelled her out of the kitchen.

There’s no need to be frightened of mice, you know. They won’t harm you. The poor thing was probably only looking for food.

Yes, I know, whimpered Tilly, but it ran over my foot.

It was probably more frightened of you than you were of it, said George, chewing on his bottom lip. Anyway, you’ve never been afraid of any creature before. What on earth has happened to you?

He moved away from Tilly. Hi Mum, we’ll take some of those bags for you.

Thank you, that is kind. I always seem to buy far too much food. Anyone would think that we were here for six months instead of six weeks.

Mum laughed and handed carrier bags to each of them. Tilly sniffed in an attention-seeking sort of way and Mum glanced down at her tear-stained face.

Darling, are you alright? You look as if you’ve been crying.

Oh no, I’m fine now. George has been looking after me, she replied bravely.

Yes, agreed George. I think we have mice in the kitchen. One has just run over Tilly’s foot.

You’re right. I’ve seen them too, nodded Mum thoughtfully. I’ve bought some poison to put down. I’d like you to help me with it as soon as we’ve put the food away.

Poison! gasped George. Isn’t that a bit drastic? I mean, they’re only looking for food. In fact, there might only be one anyway.

Oh no, said Mum. When one mouse appears hunting for food it usually means that there is, at the very least, a whole family lurking behind or beneath the skirting boards somewhere.

But Mum, persisted George, they’re not going to do us any harm, are they?

They carry disease, George, said Mum, and besides, Aunt Mary and the children are coming to join us very soon and you know that Joanna is still at the crawling stage.

George grew quiet. He finished helping with the shopping and as soon as Mum and Tilly had left the kitchen he bent down to have a good look underneath the sink. He felt a little angry about the whole situation.

Women, he muttered under his breath. He couldn’t see anything. Oh yes, there were a few droppings in one of the corners. They looked pretty old to him anyway, covered in all that fluff and dust.

Mum and Tilly returned shortly afterwards with several, small, plastic bowls.

We’ll put the poison in here and then lay the bowls out along their runs.

But how do we know where their runs are? asked George.

We don’t really, replied Mum. We’ll just put a few bowls down and hope for the best. I think I’m making a fairly good guess by putting a couple beneath the sink and then another along by the washing machine. That’s where the droppings are and they seem to be the obvious places, don’t they?

George shrugged. Mum had obviously been doing a spot of investigating.

How does the poison work anyway? Do the mice just eat it and then die?

Not quite, replied Mum. They eat it, yes, because they’re attracted to the smell and then they discover that they have an incredible thirst. The moment they drink anything is the moment they begin to die.

George scowled. It all seemed very unpleasant to him and he couldn’t help feeling rather surprised at his mother’s callous behaviour.

Murderess, he muttered under his breath.

I’m going upstairs, he said loudly. I don’t want anything to do with it.

He stomped upstairs to his bedroom and opened his favourite book and began to read. In the kitchen Mum and Tilly exchanged glances and then carried on with the task in hand. Really, George was a little too sensitive at times!

George remained upstairs all afternoon. Tilly even had to bring his tea up to him. He’d had time to think by then and felt rather embarrassed by his earlier behaviour. That didn’t mean that he agreed with his mother’s plan of course, but he was able to chatter quite brightly to Tilly, and that instantly reassured her and made her feel more comfortable.

Bedtime soon came round and they discussed a trip out on their bikes for the following day.

I’m so tired, said Tilly. We did all that travelling to get here yesterday. I do hope we’re going to enjoy ourselves.

Maybe we’ll have another adventure like the last time, said George optimistically.

Leave it out, sighed Tilly.

George rolled over.

Well, goodnight then, he murmured.

Goodnight, yawned Tilly, leaving the room.

The hours ticked slowly by. It was almost midnight and George was still awake. Or had he drifted off at some point and woken up again? He didn’t know. He tried to snuggle further down amongst the blankets. He always fell asleep very easily when he was warm. Goodness, what was that scratching noise? He sat up in bed. The scratching noise stopped. He must have imagined it. All that talk about mice today was obviously still playing on his mind. He lay down and closed his eyes. There it was again. He leapt bolt upright and listened. Yes, he could still hear it. Where was it coming from though? It seemed to be quite loud. He pushed back the bedclothes and softly padded over to Tilly’s room. Once inside he took her by the shoulders and shook her gently. She mumbled in her sleep and pushed him away. He shook her a little harder. Finally she stirred and opened her eyes.

What is it? What are you doing? she asked sleepily. It’s the middle of the night.

Listen! urged George.

What am I listening to?

Sssshhh! Listen!

But I can’t hear anything.

Be quiet and you will.

Yes, now I hear it. It’s the mice, isn’t it? Tilly yawned, feeling a distinct lack of interest.

But where is it coming from?

It’s coming from downstairs, of course.

Let’s go down and see if we can find them then.

No, no, no, you know I don’t like mice. Tilly pulled the bedclothes over her head in an attempt to get back to sleep.

Come on, Tilly. Don’t be like that, pleaded George as he pulled them back again. I’ll be with you. How can you be scared if I’m with you?

Tilly moaned miserably. George wasn’t going to give up.

Alright, alright, but I want to walk behind you.

She eased her feet into her slippers and wrapped her dressing gown about her. George took her by the elbow and they crept out of the room and down the stairs