The Little Secret by Kate Saunders Page B

opened. A tiny figure with dark hair walked into the room. It stretched and yawned, and stirred the fire with a tiny poker. It picked up a tiny book from a tiny round table beside one of the sofas.
    It was Staffa.
    Jane felt giddy and slightly sick. This had to be a dream, or a hallucination. Or some kind of trick. This could not be real.
    She watched, fascinated and horrified, as the tiny Staffa tucked the book under her arm and walked around the tiny room, switching off all the lamps. When she had finished she walked out, closing the tiny door behind her. The inside of the painted box was now in darkness, except for the tiny orange glow of the fire.
    Jane closed the box and left the room. Her fingers were trembling and clumsy, and she was covered in goose pimples when she heard the smallest sounds. She was very frightened, but she had to talk to Staffa — this time, Staffa would have to give her a proper explanation.
    She tried the door of Staffa’s room. It was locked. She went into their shared bathroom — and the door leading to Staffa’s room was also locked.
    Her bed’s empty, Jane thought; she’s inside the box, and I’m alone here.
    She sat down on her bed to think things over.
    First, there had been the dream about Lady Matilda, then the light in the box, and now this. Staffa had said she was seeing things. Either she was going crazy, or the secret of the box was very strange indeed.
    Her room was bright and cheerful, and Jane became calmer. She suddenly remembered she was hungry, and ate the poached eggs and a small slice of chocolate cake. It was after midnight and she was very tired — but she couldn’t sleep. She was itching to take another look at the box.
    Once again, she crept across the landing. She crept into the box’s room. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the lid of the box about four inches — and saw nothing but the inside of an empty wooden box.
    The relief nearly made her laugh out loud. There was no tiny room. It had been another of those waking dreams she’d been having lately — probably, she decided, because she was tired. She went back to her room and went to bed.
    *   *   *
    The first thing Jane heard when she woke up was the sound of singing. She opened her eyes. The room was filled with morning sunlight, so fresh and bright that she longed to be outside. Mrs. Prockwald was setting plates out on the round table, singing a song with words that Jane couldn’t quite make out — something like, “his heart was as big as a beetle’s leg.” She sat up.
    â€œGood morning, Miss Jane!” sang Mrs. Prockwald. “I’ve brought you a slice of ham and a fruitcake. Lady Matilda says to eat it all up, because you’ve got a long walk this morning.”
    â€œLady Matilda? Is she here?” Jane couldn’t help sounding disappointed — they had been having so much fun without her.
    â€œYes, dear, she’s downstairs. She says to wear your boy’s trousers and shoes.”
    Jane took her Boy Garden clothes out of her backpack and put them on. After the girly things Lady Matilda had bought her, they felt like comfortable old friends. She was hungry, but she couldn’t face the fruitcake or the slice of ham — Mrs. Prockwald had some funny ideas about food.
    *   *   *
    Staffa was waiting in the hall downstairs. “Well, Jane, are you ready?”
    Jane asked, “Ready for what?”
    â€œToday is the day. We’re taking you home. You’ll sleep tonight in our castle.”
    â€œYour castle must be a very long way away,” Jane said. “I looked out of my window and there doesn’t seem to be a single building for miles around — nothing but bare hills.”
    Staffa said, “You’ll see. It’s quite a hike, I’m afraid.”
    â€œAh, dear child!” Lady Matilda swept into the hall. She was dressed in an elaborate