I waited until Elsa Kavinsky’s mum stopped talking (because that is called being polite), and then I said, “Can we play in the sprinkler now?”
And do you know what Elsa Kavinsky said?
Elsa Kavinsky said, “No.”
She said, “I’m bored of the sprinkler.”
She said, “I don’t want to get cold and wet.”
She said, “I want to watch TV instead.”
Anyone could see that this was VERY rude of Elsa Kavinsky.
Everyone knows that the guest should be able to decide what to do.
I told Elsa Kavinsky that this was my only chance to play in a real-life sprinkler and that she should let me play in it.
Elsa Kavinsky said, “I don’t want to.”
Elsa Kavinsky said, “I’m tired.”
And then I poked Elsa Kavinsky a teeny bit hard in the tummy.
Elsa Kavinsky told her mum.
Elsa Kavinsky’s mum’s eyes went wide and stare-y.
She said, “I think you are both tired.”
She said, “I think watching television is probably a good idea.”
But I don’t think television is even a tiny bit interesting.
So I decided to think about the family of pixies that live under the stairs in my house.
The more I thought about my pixies, the more I started to giggle because my pixies are very funny.
Elsa Kavinsky stopped watching the telly and stared at me. “Mabel,” she said crossly. “Why are you giggling?”
“I can’t help it, Elsa Kavinsky,” I said.
“I am remembering the pixies that live under the stairs in my house and they are so funny, they make me giggle just thinking about them.”
Elsa Kavinsky did not say anything for a long, long time.
Then she said, “Are pixies real?”
I nodded. “Of course pixies are real,” I said.
“I have pixies of my own living under my stairs.”
Elsa Kavinsky nodded slowly.
I said, “Shall I tell you all about my pixies?”
And Elsa Kavinsky said, “Yes please” in a sulky voice because she was maybe still quite cross about having her tummy poked a teeny bit hard.
I told Elsa Kavinsky all about the pixies that live under the stairs in my house.
I told her about the amazing parties they sometimes invite me to.
I described the little outfits that I make for them.
I talked about how their wings are made out of cobwebs.
I mentioned that the youngest pixie won last year’s Pixie Olympics for her gymnastics.
I explained that every day I have to tuck those pixies up in their tiny pixie-sized bunk beds and read them a bedtime story.
I said that sometimes the pixies give me a magic lemony drink out of a tiny acorn cup and when I drink that lemony drink I turn into a pixie for a whole morning.
I told Elsa Kavinsky that pixies are quite naughty.
Talking about my pixies was so fun and interesting that by the time my dad came to pick me up I had actually forgotten about playing in Elsa Kavinsky’s sprinkler.
I said, “Goodbye, Elsa Kavinsky. I’m going home to see my pixies now.”
Elsa Kavinsky looked all concentrating.
She breathed in tight and breathed out again.
She said, “Mabel Chase, you are so lucky.”
I said, “I know, I am lucky.
“Not many people have pixies living under their stairs.
“Pixies are VERY rare.
“Pixies are rarer than sprinklers.”
In the hall I saw Elsa Kavinsky’s mum having a quiet word with my dad.
I heard them whispering in the next room.
On the way home Dad asked me why I had poked Elsa Kavinsky in the tummy.
I told him it was not a hard poke.
I told him it was not my fault.
I explained that Elsa Kavinsky is not always polite to her guests.
I said that Elsa Kavinsky is quite a horrid girl.
Dad sighed.
Dad told me I had to write a note saying sorry to Elsa Kavinsky and he also said I should invite Elsa Kavinsky over to my house because that is the right thing to do.
At school on Monday I gave my sorry letter to Elsa Kavinsky and I said sorry for poking her.
Elsa Kavinsky did not notice my fingers being crossed behind my back (because, remember, she is not a noticing sort of girl). She said, “That’s OK, Mabel.”
Then I had to ask Elsa Kavinsky if she wanted to come to play at my house after school and Elsa Kavinsky jumped up and down like a bunny rabbit and said, “Yes, yes, Mabel, I would love to come to your house because then I can meet your pixies!”
After that I did not say anything else.
I was a bit too busy thinking.
When we got back to my house after school, Elsa Kavinsky wanted to play with the pixies straight away but I’m afraid the pixies were sleeping so I showed Elsa Kavinsky how to play my best spying game instead.
We played for hours. After that it was dippy eggs for supper.
Elsa was in a hurry to finish because she was so keen on playing with the pixies but the thing is, I always take ages to eat dippy eggs.
Dippy eggs are my slowest supper.
Elsa waited a long time for me to finish eating, then she said, all jumpety, “Please, Mabel, NOW can I meet your pixies?”
I chewed my lip a bit and then I sighed like my dad does.
I said, “Yes, Elsa Kavinsky, I’ll introduce you to the pixies now if you like.”
Elsa Kavinsky hugged me very tightly.
She said, “Thank you Mabel,” in a happy voice.
“But Elsa,” I said, “the thing about pixies is that they are very, very shy.
“My pixies may not actually want to meet you.”
I said, “We’ll have to see.”
Copyright
First published in the UK in 2020 by Nosy Crow Ltd
The Crow’s Nest, 14 Baden Place,
Crosby Row, London SE1 1YW
Nosy Crow and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Nosy Crow Ltd
Text © Ruth Quayle, 2020
Illustrations © Julia Christians, 2020
The right of Ruth Quayle and Julia Christians to be identified as the author and illustrator respectively of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988
All rights reserved
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