Josie and the Unicorn



  Josie and the Unicorn

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © Mandy Martin 2016

  Mandy Martin asserts the moral right to be

  identified as the author of this work

  Also by Mandy Martin:

  Seren Kitty

  Seren Kitty and the Tricky Wizard

  Seren Kitty and the Dog-Nappers

  Seren Kitty in Italy

  Will On The Water

  Moon Pony

  Esmerelda Smudge and the Magic Pepper Pot

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  For Josie

  Happy 6th Birthday

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter One

  Josie hung upside down from the climbing frame, her hair dangling dangerously close to the dirt. The world looked better from this angle: it made more sense.

  I wish I was a sloth, she thought. I bet sloths don’t have bossy big brothers, or have to wear dresses and tidy their bedrooms.

  She swung back and forth, feeling the wind against her face.

  “Josie Grace, how many times have I told you not to do that?”

  Startled, Josie felt the bar slip beneath her hands. Her stomach lurched and she snatched at the cold metal. Falling didn’t bother her, but Mum would preach for a month if she landed on her head. What was Mum doing here anyway? She was meant to be working. How did she always know? She must have a magic crystal ball tucked away under her desk that told her whenever her children found something fun to do.

  With practised ease Josie gripped the bar, flipped her legs over and landed right-way-up on the hard earth. Her bottom lip jutted out dangerously.

  “I never fall,” she muttered.

  “There’s a first time for everything,” Mum snapped, “And I’ve got too much work to do to be dragging you to the hospital with blood pouring from your head. Besides, you have homework.”

  Josie scowled. She hated homework almost as much as she hated brothers.

  “There’ll be no DelveBuild until you’ve done it.” Mum said with her hands on her hips. Josie heaved a sigh and stomped into the house.

  “And do it neatly!” Mum called after her. “Mrs Nitkins says your handwriting is appalling.”

  The scowl on Josie’s face grew deeper. What was the point of neat handwriting, or spellings, or knowing her four times table? She was going to be an acrobat in the circus when she grew up. Or run an animal rescue. Or she would become a hair stylist and create outrageous hairdos full of colour and sparkle; ones that didn’t ever need brushing.

  As she clumped into the playroom with her school bag her big brother, Dylan, looked up from his tablet and grinned. “Told Mum you’d be in the yard.”

  “Tell-tale,” Josie spat. “Just because you’ve done all your homework. Swot!”

  “Ha! It was easy. We had to write a computer program, I could do that in Reception. Hurry up, I’ve built a house out of explosives that I want you to see.”

  “Thanks to you, I might not be allowed to play at all,” Josie snapped back.

  “Do your homework, it’s not hard. You’re only in Year 2! Baby stuff.”

  Josie hissed like an angry cat. It was alright for Dylan, he liked school. He had loads of friends, both from his class and the football team. Not that he let her play with them.

  She pulled out her homework book and a pencil. It was blunt, but she didn’t care. Scratching at the paper until it tore she wrote out her spellings and did her sums. When Mum came in to check, twenty minutes later, she tutted at the state of Josie’s work, but she didn’t comment.

  “Can I play DelveBuild now?” Josie widened her eyes in what she hoped was a cute manner. It obviously was, because Mum smiled and tousled her hair.

  “Go on then! If only they had world-building in your end of year exams, you’d sail through.”

  Josie thought that if they had DelveBuild lessons at school, she wouldn’t hate it so much. But she didn’t want to fight with Mum, she wanted to play with Dylan, so she shrugged and went to fetch her tablet.

  “Dylan! Aaron’s here to play football,” Mum called from the front door, half an hour later.

  Dylan jumped up and flung his tablet on the table. As it shut down, Josie lost her connection to his DelveBuild world. “Dylan! I was swimming! I’m going to drown now,” she wailed.

  “Sorry, sis,” Dylan called over his shoulder as he hurried out. She shut her tablet and ran after him.

  “Can I play? Please. I’ll be in goal. Or defence. I’ll even be a goal post. Pleeeeaaasssee.”

  “No,” Dylan shouted from the utility room as he fetched his football boots. “You’re a girl. No girls allowed.”

  Tears welled up in Josie’s eyes and she brushed them away angrily. “That’s not fair! Mum says girls are just as good as boys.”

  “She would say that, she’s a girl! No girls allowed. Go and play with your dolls or your imaginary friend or something.”

  Josie balled her hands into fists and her eyes grew hard. “Take that back! Mu-um! Dylan told me to play with my dolls. Mu-um!”

  “Dylan Michael, you do not tell your sister to play with dolls. We do not genderise toys in this house.”

  With an evil glare at Josie, Dylan hung his head. “Sorry, Mum,” he said.

  “It isn’t me you should be apologising to, is it?”

  “Sorry, Josie,” he muttered.

  “Does that mean I can play football?” She looked eagerly from Mum to Dylan and back.

  Mum tilted her head. “Would it be so bad to take her? She’s very good. Mrs Nitkins says she scored two goals in the Year 2 game last term.”

  “She’s still a…” Mum’s eyebrows flew up into her hair and she gave Dylan The Look. “But none of the other boys bring their baby sisters,” he said, his shoulders hunching into a sulk.

  Josie could tell that Mum was about to make him take her. That would be worse than anything. He’d be mean, and his friends would laugh, and he wouldn’t let her play DelveBuild with him for ages.

  “It’s fine,” she murmured. “I don’t really want to go. Can I play in the yard, Mum?” Dylan gave her a grateful smile and ran out before Josie changed her mind.

  Mum sighed. “You didn’t have to do that, Josie. You shouldn’t be excluded just because you’re a girl.”

  “It’s okay, Mum.”

  But it wasn’t, not really.

  Chapter Two

  Josie checked that Mum wasn’t watching before she flipped upside down on the climbing frame again. As she stared into the straggly bushes around their yard, she tried to think of something fun to do. The trees weren’t big enough to climb, and it was too sunny to go in and paint or play with clay. If only she did have an imaginary friend, at least she’d have someone to talk to.

  Suddenly she noticed a sparkling light glinting deep in the darkness of the hedge. Josie blinked. Not one light, but two. Eyes. Something was peering at her through the leaves. Was it a cat? Josie loved cats, but they weren’t allowed one. Mum said it was because they lived too near the main road, but Josie t
hought it was probably because of the fuss they’d all made when Ginger died.

  Carefully trying not to startle whatever was hiding, Josie swung her legs over and lowered herself to the ground. The lights flickered but didn’t vanish.

  “Here, kitty, kitty. I won’t hurt you,” Josie murmured, holding out her hand as she approached the bushes. But they didn’t look like cat eyes. They were too big, for a start, and too round. She brushed her tangled hair off her face to get a better look and jumped as a loud snort echoed from the gloom.

  “Kitty, indeed!” a voice spluttered. “Are you blind as well as filthy?”

  “Are… are you talking to me?” Josie stammered, stuck between shock and indignation. How dare the strange creature, whatever it was, say she was dirty? She’d had a bath only last Sunday. Well, a swim in the lake at any rate.

  “I don’t see any other grubby urchins around, child.” The round eyes blinked and moved slightly nearer. Josie backed away. Now she was on the ground, the eyes were the same height as her own. If it was a cat, it was huge.

  “There’s no need to be rude,” Josie said, but her voice lacked conviction. With a shake of her head, she pulled her scattered thoughts together. She wasn’t afraid of anything, not even giant eyes and talking animals.

  “What are you doing in my yard!” she demanded in a much firmer voice. She put her hands on her hips, wondering whether she should run for Mum.

  “Looking for you, of course,” the creature replied, as if it was a stupid question.

  “Me?” Josie hadn’t been expecting that.

  “Unless there are any other fearsome warriors called Josie Grace in this locality?” The voice hesitated before adding, “Although I thought you’d be older. And taller. Definitely cleaner. Still, The Voice is never wrong.”

  “The voice? What, wait a minute. Fearsome warrior? Me?” She giggled. “This is a prank, isn’t it? Dylan, is that you?”

  “Who is this Dylan? My name is…” and the voice muttered something Josie didn’t quite catch.

  “Limpy? Did you say your name is Limpy?”

  “Lumpy,” the voice corrected sullenly. Then as Josie snorted with laughter, he snapped, “Yes, alright, alright, it’s short for Sugarlump, and don’t get me started. That’s no better either. What is a name after all?”

  “But who are you?” Josie said brushing away the tears of laughter running tracks through the dirt on her face.

  The eyes came nearer and a face appeared in the bushes. A white face, with a long nose, and a gleaming twisting horn pointing majestically from the centre of its forehead.

  “You’re a unicorn,” Josie breathed in awe. Lumpy edged further out into the yard and Josie saw the rest of him. The breath caught in her throat. “You’re the shortest, fattest unicorn I’ve ever seen!” Giggles bubbled up and ran down her nose. “You look like the greedy goats at the petting zoo. No wonder they call you Lumpy!”

  “Go ahead, laugh.” Lumpy’s head drooped until Josie was nearly impaled on his luminescent horn. He looked so dejected, Josie stopped sniggering. Perhaps he couldn’t help being short and round, like she couldn’t help being a girl. Besides, his mane was the most amazing rainbow-colour.

  “I’m sorry,” she said contritely. “It’s nice to meet you, Lumpy. Why are you looking for me and why do you need a fearsome warrior?”

  Lumpy’s head rose up and his eyes sparkled. “We need you to save our world!” he declared in a ringing voice.

  Josie stared. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Lumpy looked as if that wasn’t quite the response he was expecting. “I do not kid about such matters. The Voice said we needed a maiden called Josie, who would battle to save us. So here I am, and here you are. Come on, we must be going.”

  “Going where?” Josie took a step back. Mum would go nuts if she left the yard.

  “Rainbow Valley,” the unicorn said as if it were obvious.

  Josie looked around, almost expecting to see a sign-post or a shimmering portal like they had in DelveBuild.

  “Not that I’m agreeing to come,” she said, “But how exactly do we reach Rainbow Valley?” She peered at the rotund unicorn. “Do you have wings?”

  “That’s a Pegasus, child, do they teach you nothing?”

  “I know my four-times tables. Sort of.”

  “Maths!” Lumpy spat, as if it were a rude word. “What point is maths without magic?”

  Josie shrugged. Magic lessons would be awesome, if magic really existed. Then she realised she was talking to a mythic beast, and her head ached with the strangeness of it all.

  “Enough chat. Climb on, child, we’ve got to go.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.” Josie folded her arms. “Anyway, I can’t leave. Mum’ll go bananas if I leave the yard.”

  “What do yellow fruit have to do with it?” Lumpy’s face twisted in confusion. “And I think you’ll find that the fate of Rainbow Valley is rather more important that this Mum you speak of.”

  “You haven’t met my mum,” Josie retorted. “She’ll have you locked up in the petting zoo before you can blink.”

  Lumpy shook his mane, but he looked worried nonetheless. “Is she a magician?”

  Josie laughed, thinking about Mum’s ability to know when she was doing something wrong. She was surprised Mum hadn’t appeared in the garden yet. She’d be there in a heartbeat if Josie climbed on Lumpy’s back.

  “Pretty much,” she agreed.

  “What if I promise to return you to this exact moment, when we’re done? You won’t be missed.”

  “You can do that?”

  Lumpy nodded his long nose, but Josie detected a glimmer of doubt in his eyes. Still, he was a unicorn, and they didn’t pop up in the garden every day.

  “Alright,” she said. “Let’s go save the world.”

  Chapter Three

  Josie clung on to Lumpy’s multi-coloured mane and gripped his round belly with her legs. Lumpy might not have wings, but apparently that didn’t stop him flying. Or running on the air, which is more what it felt like. Somehow Josie had expected riding a unicorn to be magical, or at least comfortable. Sitting on Lumpy felt no different to clinging onto the Shetland pony she sometimes rode at the farm. Expect Max never got above a plod.

  “Are we nearly there?” she yelled into Lumpy’s ear, over the whistling of the wind.

  “No idea,” Lumpy called over his shoulder.

  “What do you mean, ‘no idea’?” Josie’s fingers dug into the coarse hair and she clenched her teeth. Thankfully they were surrounded by cloud, so she couldn’t see how far away the ground was. Hanging upside-down from a climbing frame or a tree was one thing, but riding the air high above the Earth tumbled her stomach.

  “It is not exactly a precise route. You won’t find Rainbow Valley on any map.”

  “Then how did you find me?” Josie called, her throat burning with the effort of being heard.

  “The Voice sent me.”

  The answer was so puzzling, Josie fell silent. It was too hard to shout above the wind anyway. Instead she focussed on Lumpy’s horn, which seemed to glow even buried in mist.

  She’d always loved unicorns. They were everything she didn’t quite manage to be; beautiful and graceful and clever. She couldn’t imagine a unicorn being made to tidy its room or getting left out because it was a girl. But then she’d never imagined a short fat unicorn with a sassy attitude and a bad sense of direction either.

  “Ah, I recognise this,” Lumpy said eventually. Josie looked around, but the world was still white with cloud. Or maybe not cloud, exactly, as it didn’t leave her clammy and wet like fog did: weren’t clouds just higher bits of fog?

  She was still thinking about it, trying to remember Mrs Nitkins’ boring science lessons, when she felt Lumpy shift beneath her and she fell forwards against his neck.

  The landing came suddenly and Josie had to cling on to stop herself falling in a heap. By the time she was the right way up, the whiteness had disa
ppeared.

  “Wow.”

  Lumpy gave a whinny of appreciation, as if the glorious view was all down to him. Josie didn’t care. She drank it in. Lush green grass, as bright as a boiled sweet, rippled away in every direction. Here and there little groups of willowy trees gathered as if gossiping in the sunshine, while overhead a crystal clear rainbow filled the sky with sparkling colour.

  It didn’t look like a land in trouble.

  Without warning, Lumpy trotted towards one of the nearer groups of trees. As they approached the dancing leaves, Josie spotted flashes of white in the shade. She swallowed. These creatures thought she was a fearsome warrior. What could she do to protect a magical world from trouble? She was just, what had Lumpy called her, a grubby urchin?

  Before she could think of a way to escape, Lumpy came to a halt in a sun-dappled clearing. A dozen or more unicorns stood watching down their long noses. They towered above her and Lumpy, like the parents at the school gate when Mum picked her up.

  “You found her then,” one unicorn said, with a shake of its mane.

  “Indeed, Misty. Did you doubt me?” Lumpy’s words were brave, but his wobbly tone spoilt the effect.

  “Of course,” Misty said with a snort. “No one believed you would do it. Why The Voice sent you, I will never know.”

  “Don’t be so mean!” Josie shouted. Then she flushed bright red and ducked behind Lumpy’s head. If the tall unicorn wanted to, it could knock her out with one flailing hoof.

  “Typical human child. Rude and repulsive.” Misty snorted.

  Josie stared in disbelief. “I thought you brought me here to save you? You might be a bit nicer about it.”

  “You, save us? Do not be ridiculous. The Voice tests us, that is all, sending the Lump on a pointless mission while the real hero makes his way here.”

  Josie face burned as if she’d been slapped. She remembered when Dylan hit her once, because she’d deliberately blown up his house in DelveBuild. Mum had gone ballistic, but Josie had to admit she probably deserved it. Her face felt like that now, but she couldn’t think of anything she’d done wrong.

  “Lumpy, take me home,” she whispered. “I’m not wanted here.”

  “Nonsense,” Lumpy said, but he didn’t sound so certain now he was surrounded by the other unicorns. “The Voice asked for you, it is for her to decide what happens next.”