squashing Glubbslyme. There was one confused shrieking second when they were all actually airborne but then they clattered separately on to the kitchen floor. The umbrella lay quietly where it fell. Glubbslyme did not lie quietly. He hopped up and down, croaking furiously, rubbing his sore arm and bumped head. Rebecca had twisted her ankle and bumped her own head on the edge of the kitchen table but she did not dare complain. She concentrated on soothing Glubbslyme, which wasn’t easy.
‘You clumsy dim-witted dolt,’ he hissed.
‘I know, and I’m ever so sorry, Glubbslyme, really I am. I swear I won’t squash you next time. It was just it all happened so quickly it took me by surprise. Please let’s have another go. You sit in front of me to be on the safe side.’
‘There is no safe side where you are concerned,’ said Glubbslyme, but he hopped over to the umbrella and settled himself upon it, crouching right up at the handle. Rebecca followed him and sat on the umbrella, clutching it as tightly as she could with her hands, and her knees too for good measure. She chanted seven Glubbslymes. Glubbslyme wearily revolved his eyes one, two, three, four, five, six, seven times and the umbrella quivered into action. It rose in the air – and Rebecca and Glubbslyme rose too. They reached the level of the kitchen table.
‘We’re doing it, we’re doing it!’ Rebecca shouted, and she was so excited she lost all her common sense and waved her legs wildly to convince herself she was actually up off the ground. She did not stay up off the ground for very long. Waving her legs made the umbrella tilt sideways. It stabbed at the kitchen shelves, sweeping the biscuit tin onto the floor, and the impact made it twist and whirl. Rebecca and Glubbslyme twisted and whirled too and rapidly returned to the kitchen floor. The umbrella stayed spinning in mid-air for a few seconds as if it hadn’t noticed they were missing, but then it tumbled down and landed with a thwack against the door frame, chipping off a large flake of paint.
‘Oh help,’ said Rebecca wearily.
Glubbslyme said nothing at all for several seconds. He lay flat on his back, twitching.
‘Glubbslyme? You are all right, aren’t you?’ Rebecca enquired anxiously.
‘I am exceeding all wrong,’ said Glubbslyme. He struggled to his feet and brushed biscuit crumbs from his body. He nibbled one absent-mindedly, and then started serious munching. ‘We will abandon this flying foolery forthwith. Perhaps you relish the idea of pain and confusion and indignity. I do not.’
‘But I can’t give up now, not when I’m just getting the hang of it,’ said Rebecca.
‘You are “getting the hang” of falling, not flying,’ said Glubbslyme.
‘Can’t we have a few more goes, please? I really did do it. I was right up in the air.’
Glubbslyme sighed. Rebecca picked up some bigger bits of biscuit to persuade him. She’d have to sweep the kitchen floor properly and see if there was any way she could stick the piece of paint-flake back on to the door frame but she wasn’t going to bother about that now.
There wasn’t much point in bothering. On her next flight she knocked the cornflake packet off the shelf too, and the flight after that she managed to fly smack into the wall, and the point of Dad’s umbrella chipped a great chunk out of the plaster. That really did alarm her and she tried doing a temporary repair with the last of the Ariel ointment, which proved totally ineffective.
‘What’s Dad going to say?’ she whispered – but the feeling of flying had been so wonderful she soon stopped worrying. She decided she simply didn’t have room enough in the kitchen, so she persuaded Glubbslyme to perch on the umbrella at the top of the stairs.
It was a sensible idea. Rebecca could kick off and actually aim the umbrella. They flew from the top of the stairs to the bottom, zig-zagging a little and landing in a heap in the hall, but it was proper flight for
‘You clumsy dim-witted dolt,’ he hissed.
‘I know, and I’m ever so sorry, Glubbslyme, really I am. I swear I won’t squash you next time. It was just it all happened so quickly it took me by surprise. Please let’s have another go. You sit in front of me to be on the safe side.’
‘There is no safe side where you are concerned,’ said Glubbslyme, but he hopped over to the umbrella and settled himself upon it, crouching right up at the handle. Rebecca followed him and sat on the umbrella, clutching it as tightly as she could with her hands, and her knees too for good measure. She chanted seven Glubbslymes. Glubbslyme wearily revolved his eyes one, two, three, four, five, six, seven times and the umbrella quivered into action. It rose in the air – and Rebecca and Glubbslyme rose too. They reached the level of the kitchen table.
‘We’re doing it, we’re doing it!’ Rebecca shouted, and she was so excited she lost all her common sense and waved her legs wildly to convince herself she was actually up off the ground. She did not stay up off the ground for very long. Waving her legs made the umbrella tilt sideways. It stabbed at the kitchen shelves, sweeping the biscuit tin onto the floor, and the impact made it twist and whirl. Rebecca and Glubbslyme twisted and whirled too and rapidly returned to the kitchen floor. The umbrella stayed spinning in mid-air for a few seconds as if it hadn’t noticed they were missing, but then it tumbled down and landed with a thwack against the door frame, chipping off a large flake of paint.
‘Oh help,’ said Rebecca wearily.
Glubbslyme said nothing at all for several seconds. He lay flat on his back, twitching.
‘Glubbslyme? You are all right, aren’t you?’ Rebecca enquired anxiously.
‘I am exceeding all wrong,’ said Glubbslyme. He struggled to his feet and brushed biscuit crumbs from his body. He nibbled one absent-mindedly, and then started serious munching. ‘We will abandon this flying foolery forthwith. Perhaps you relish the idea of pain and confusion and indignity. I do not.’
‘But I can’t give up now, not when I’m just getting the hang of it,’ said Rebecca.
‘You are “getting the hang” of falling, not flying,’ said Glubbslyme.
‘Can’t we have a few more goes, please? I really did do it. I was right up in the air.’
Glubbslyme sighed. Rebecca picked up some bigger bits of biscuit to persuade him. She’d have to sweep the kitchen floor properly and see if there was any way she could stick the piece of paint-flake back on to the door frame but she wasn’t going to bother about that now.
There wasn’t much point in bothering. On her next flight she knocked the cornflake packet off the shelf too, and the flight after that she managed to fly smack into the wall, and the point of Dad’s umbrella chipped a great chunk out of the plaster. That really did alarm her and she tried doing a temporary repair with the last of the Ariel ointment, which proved totally ineffective.
‘What’s Dad going to say?’ she whispered – but the feeling of flying had been so wonderful she soon stopped worrying. She decided she simply didn’t have room enough in the kitchen, so she persuaded Glubbslyme to perch on the umbrella at the top of the stairs.
It was a sensible idea. Rebecca could kick off and actually aim the umbrella. They flew from the top of the stairs to the bottom, zig-zagging a little and landing in a heap in the hall, but it was proper flight for
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