them, and then it went to sleep in a coconut shell.
We’d invited Mrs Olsen’s husband and sons as well.
Mr Olsen was a real surprise. You’d never have guessed he was 50 years younger than his wife. It didn’t show at all.
He looked quite different when he wasn’t being a bat, and he had blonde hair. I thought all vampires had black hair, but that just shows I don’t know everything, as Mrs Olsen is always telling me after my social studies tests.
Her youngest son was blonde, too, but her eldest son (he’s called Jason just like my cousin Jason, the werewolf) has dark hair just like Mrs Olsen’s and these really dreamy brown eyes and white, white skin. I mean, he is REALLY gorgeous. Maybe…someday…in a few years time…
Everyone said it was the best 400th birthday party they’d ever been to.
The school band played ‘Happy Birthday’ fourteen times and then tried to play stuff to dance to.
So Phredde changed them into a rock band and they were great. (She forgot to change them back after the party. Or maybe she didn’t forget at all). So we danced and danced along the beach in the classroom.
Mum and Dad did these really weird old dances from twenty years ago and Phredde’s mum showed us phaery dances and Mr and Mrs Olsen did the Charleston, which is a crazy old dance from the 1920s.
As Mr Olsen said, one of the great things about being a vampire and living so long is all the dances you get to know.
And then they took a break in their coffins for a while and we kept on dancing and then the fireworks began…and these were magic fireworks…
Well, I said it was great, didn’t I? The best birthday ever, in fact. Except for Phredde’s.
But that’s a REALLY different story.
Six hours in Phaeryland
‘Dragon guts!’ yelled Phredde.
I blinked.
‘Buckets of snot! Busted lizard brains…’
‘Hey,’ I said. ‘What’s wrong?’
Phredde glared at me. I’d never seen her so upset before.
‘It’s Mum,’ she exclaimed. ‘She keeps ruining my life! You know what she wants me to do now?’
‘No,’ I said.
‘She wants me to go to Phaeryland!’
‘What? To live!’ I was worried. I mean Phredde’s my best friend. I wanted her to stay right here!
‘No, for my birthday! Phaeries always go to fairyland for their birthday,’ mimicked Phredde in a ‘goody goody gum drops lets all have fun, kiddies’ sort of voice.
I hauled myself up into the tree and sat next to her. This was Phredde’s favourite tree—it’s a beautiful crab-apple, but bigger than any crab-apple tree I’ve ever seen. It has flowers all year round as well as tinyapples, which I don’t think most crab-apples do, but then I’m not too interested in trees.
The crab-apple tree grows in the middle of the school grounds. I think it was always there—though, you know, it’s funny, I just can’t quite remember it being there before Phredde arrived.
‘What’s wrong with Phaeryland?’ I asked. ‘It’d be great.’
Phredde glared at me. ‘Shows how much you know,’ she said bitterly. ‘Who does Mum think I am? A baby? Off to Phaeryland…’ She muttered in a little-kiddie voice, ‘Let’s all pop off to Phaeryland… Why doesn’t Mum realise I’m getting too old for that sort of thing now?’
‘I think Phaeryland sounds sort of interesting,’ I said. I’d never even been to Surfer’s Paradise, much less Ruritania or Phaeryland. Some people just don’t know when they’re well off.
‘You go then, if you think it sounds so great,’ muttered Phredde.
‘I’d like to,’ I said.
Phredde really looked at me then. ‘You mean it?’ she demanded.
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I’ve never been to Phaeryland. I mean I’ve heard about it, but that was all in little-kid picture books. It’d be fun to see what it’s really like.’
‘What it’s really like is…well, you’ll find out,’ Phredde muttered darkly. Her wings calmed down a bit (they always flutter when she’s upset).
‘It wouldn’t be so
We’d invited Mrs Olsen’s husband and sons as well.
Mr Olsen was a real surprise. You’d never have guessed he was 50 years younger than his wife. It didn’t show at all.
He looked quite different when he wasn’t being a bat, and he had blonde hair. I thought all vampires had black hair, but that just shows I don’t know everything, as Mrs Olsen is always telling me after my social studies tests.
Her youngest son was blonde, too, but her eldest son (he’s called Jason just like my cousin Jason, the werewolf) has dark hair just like Mrs Olsen’s and these really dreamy brown eyes and white, white skin. I mean, he is REALLY gorgeous. Maybe…someday…in a few years time…
Everyone said it was the best 400th birthday party they’d ever been to.
The school band played ‘Happy Birthday’ fourteen times and then tried to play stuff to dance to.
So Phredde changed them into a rock band and they were great. (She forgot to change them back after the party. Or maybe she didn’t forget at all). So we danced and danced along the beach in the classroom.
Mum and Dad did these really weird old dances from twenty years ago and Phredde’s mum showed us phaery dances and Mr and Mrs Olsen did the Charleston, which is a crazy old dance from the 1920s.
As Mr Olsen said, one of the great things about being a vampire and living so long is all the dances you get to know.
And then they took a break in their coffins for a while and we kept on dancing and then the fireworks began…and these were magic fireworks…
Well, I said it was great, didn’t I? The best birthday ever, in fact. Except for Phredde’s.
But that’s a REALLY different story.
Six hours in Phaeryland
‘Dragon guts!’ yelled Phredde.
I blinked.
‘Buckets of snot! Busted lizard brains…’
‘Hey,’ I said. ‘What’s wrong?’
Phredde glared at me. I’d never seen her so upset before.
‘It’s Mum,’ she exclaimed. ‘She keeps ruining my life! You know what she wants me to do now?’
‘No,’ I said.
‘She wants me to go to Phaeryland!’
‘What? To live!’ I was worried. I mean Phredde’s my best friend. I wanted her to stay right here!
‘No, for my birthday! Phaeries always go to fairyland for their birthday,’ mimicked Phredde in a ‘goody goody gum drops lets all have fun, kiddies’ sort of voice.
I hauled myself up into the tree and sat next to her. This was Phredde’s favourite tree—it’s a beautiful crab-apple, but bigger than any crab-apple tree I’ve ever seen. It has flowers all year round as well as tinyapples, which I don’t think most crab-apples do, but then I’m not too interested in trees.
The crab-apple tree grows in the middle of the school grounds. I think it was always there—though, you know, it’s funny, I just can’t quite remember it being there before Phredde arrived.
‘What’s wrong with Phaeryland?’ I asked. ‘It’d be great.’
Phredde glared at me. ‘Shows how much you know,’ she said bitterly. ‘Who does Mum think I am? A baby? Off to Phaeryland…’ She muttered in a little-kiddie voice, ‘Let’s all pop off to Phaeryland… Why doesn’t Mum realise I’m getting too old for that sort of thing now?’
‘I think Phaeryland sounds sort of interesting,’ I said. I’d never even been to Surfer’s Paradise, much less Ruritania or Phaeryland. Some people just don’t know when they’re well off.
‘You go then, if you think it sounds so great,’ muttered Phredde.
‘I’d like to,’ I said.
Phredde really looked at me then. ‘You mean it?’ she demanded.
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I’ve never been to Phaeryland. I mean I’ve heard about it, but that was all in little-kid picture books. It’d be fun to see what it’s really like.’
‘What it’s really like is…well, you’ll find out,’ Phredde muttered darkly. Her wings calmed down a bit (they always flutter when she’s upset).
‘It wouldn’t be so
Similar Books
