Fox felt an almost uncontrollable urge to pour out her most secret thoughts to her brother: to tell him that she was tired, too – of stamping all over other people, of the pressure from her parents, of the feeling that she was never good enough. But the wall around her heart was still high and sturdy and, although she could feel the words forming inside her mouth, she found herself trapped in silence. For it is hard for someone who has been lied to their entire life to start over and trust again. And, because the world had always seemed to Fox to be pitted against her, she didn’t recognise kindness and truth when they did, finally, come along.
‘I know I’ve spent most of my life lying and scheming,’ Fibber continued, as if he could read his sister’s thoughts. ‘To you, to Mum and Dad, to everyone, really. But I lied because I was too afraid of telling the truth – of Mum and Dad finding out that I’m no businessman-in-the-making, that I don’t have any profit-soaring strategies up my sleeve, that I’m never going to be the one who saves the Petty-Squabble fortune. That really, deep down, I don’t want to be.’
Fox listened, hardly daring to hope that Fibber was, at last, telling her the truth. She had always felt worlds apart from her brother, despite the fact that she had never known a day without him. And yet could it be that they weren’t so different, after all?
‘I’ve been wondering –’ Fibber paused – ‘ever since I saw Doodler’s Haven, whether maybe there’s a place for me in this kingdom after the quest finishes. Out in Jungledrop, I could do what I’m good at, what I enjoy. I’d be happy.’
Fox frowned. Fibber had been terrified when he’d stepped off the Here and There Express and now he was saying he wanted to stay in Jungledrop? What had he seen in Doodler’s Haven that had changed his mind? Her thoughts whirred with possibilities. But because, for so many years, Fibber had imagined Fox to be secretly sly, and through her behaviour tonight she had given him no reason to question this, Fibber interpreted his sister’s silence as scorn.
So, with a sigh, he moved the conversation on. ‘We need to take Goldpaw’s advice and work together to find the Forever Fern. And we need to do it for Jungledrop and all those suffering in the Faraway because otherwise there won’t be a world for you to go back to.’
Fox wished she could see Fibber’s face so she could search it for the telltale sign of a lie. Although she wanted, with every fibre inside her, to believe him, she couldn’t shake the years of lying and competition. And surely that’s what all this was now. Another trick – Fibber’s greatest yet – to pull the wool over her eyes, to make her think he was on her side when really he was planning to double-cross her in his own devious way as soon as they found the Forever Fern.
Fox listened as Fibber fiddled with the buckles on his briefcase. She thought of the contents bitterly. Her brother had a backup plan in there. One Mrs Scribble believed in. And Fox only had the Forever Fern. Everything – finally being loved and cherished and not being sent away – hinged on her beating Fibber and being the one to take home the fern to their parents.
‘What’s in your briefcase?’ Fox asked guardedly.
Fibber stopped fiddling with the buckles immediately, but he didn’t turn round.
‘You heard me: what’s inside it?’
Fibber sighed. ‘I’ve been trying to be honest, Fox. I’ve told you exactly how I feel for once, but you’ve given nothing back. You just listened in silence and now you’ve brought up the briefcase again. I’m not going to say what’s inside it unless you tell me what’s inside you.’
Again, Fox felt words forming on the tip of her tongue. An opportunity had opened up unexpectedly. And the weight of such a thing hovered between the twins like a small, invisible bridge in the dark. Fox wanted to say that her deepest longing was for a brother who she could talk to on the way to school, who she could hang out with at weekends, who she could laugh with on holiday. But the thought of everything she might lose if she let herself wish things were different swelled inside her and mingled with the fear of opening up only to be double-crossed by Fibber. So the wall around her heart stood firm.
Heckle’s voice slipped into the darkness. ‘Trust is like a shoelace,’ she said quietly. ‘It takes two hands to tie it into something worthwhile.’
Fox wasn’t sure whose thoughts the parrot was revealing – perhaps simply her own – but she knew that she couldn’t give in now. There were years of feeling unloved standing in the way of this moment and, no matter how much she wanted to believe Fibber, she couldn’t.
Silence surrounded them once again.
Finally, Fibber sighed. ‘Goodnight, Fox.’
There was a pause and then Fox mumbled, ‘Night.’
After a while, Fox noticed her brother’s breathing grow deeper and slower. She waited a while longer to be absolutely sure that Fibber, and indeed Heckle, were asleep, then she took a deep breath. Important businesswomen focused on agendas and targets; they didn’t spend time messing around with emotions and trickster brothers who had suddenly decided to be nice. She stood up quietly and tiptoed over to Total Shambles.
It wasn’t that Fox had it in for the swiftwing, though she was pretty cross that Fibber had used all the pucklesmidge syrup on the creature. It was more
