The Serial Garden: The Complete Armitage Family Stories by Garth Nix, Joan Aiken, Andi Watson, Lizza Aiken

it, then you'd only wish for your lunch and it might be better to wait for a few years."
    "Yes, well, that's just it,” exclaimed Mark. “We met her just now in Farthing Wood, and she offered us a wish each, so we said could we think it over and tell her tomorrow; you know how it is on the spur of the moment, you can never think of anything sensible."
    "Very prudent of you,” murmured his father. “Try not to wish for anything that needs upkeep , will you, like race horses or airplanes. You know what the price of gasoline is now."
    Here Mrs. Armitage came in and started pouring tea.
    "Children, I'm afraid I've a disappointing message for you from Mr. Pontwell. He says he's very sorry but he doesn't think he can have you in the carol choir."
    "Not have us in the choir? But Mr. Willingdon always did."
    "Well, I suppose Mr. Pontwell is more particular about voices. He says he wants the singing to be especially good this year. And you know I don't mean to be unkind, but you can neither of you sing in tune at all."
    "Yes, the other day,” agreed Mr. Armitage, “I wondered who could possibly be sawing wood in the bathroom, only to find—"
    "Oh, he is a mean man,” said Harriet, taking no notice. “ Nobody ever minds about keeping in tune in carols. And I do love carol-singing too. Oh, why did Mr. Willingdon have to go and get made a canon?"
    "Couldn't we go along with them and keep quiet?” suggested Mark.
    "No, I thought of that, but he said, ‘You know how effervescent Mark and Harriet are, there's no knowing what they'd do.’ I think he's afraid of you."
    "Well, I think that's most unkind of him. We'll just have to go out by ourselves, that's all."
    "No, no,” said Harriet, “don't you see what we can do? What about our fairy godmother and the wishes?"
    Next day, as arranged, they met the popeyed lady in Farthing Wood.
    "Well, dears,” she beamed at them. “Thought of a good wish?"
    "Yes, please,” said Mark. “We'd both like to have simply wonderful voices—to sing with, I mean."
    The lady looked a little blank. “ Voices ? Are you sure you wouldn't like a nice box of chocolates each? Or a pony?"
    "No, thank you very much. We have a unicorn already, you see. But we really do need good voices so that we can get into the carol choir."
    "Well,” she said doubtfully. “That's a rather difficult wish. I don't think I could manage it for you permanently . But perhaps for a week or two, I might be able to manage it—"
    "Oh, please do try.” They both looked at her imploringly.
    "Very well, dears, since it means such a lot to you.” She shut her eyes and clenched her fists with an appearance of terrific concentration. The children waited breathlessly.
    "Now, then,” she said after a moment or two, “try to sing a few notes."
    They were rather embarrassed and looked at each other for encouragement.
    "What shall we sing? ‘Good King Wenceslas?'” They sang the first few lines rather timidly and were much disconcerted by the notes that boomed out—Harriet's voice had become a terrific contralto which would not have disgraced a twelve-stone prima donna, and Mark's was a deep and reverend bass.
    "I say, I hate to seem ungrateful, but couldn't we be soprano and treble—it would be more natural, don't you think?"
    "Perhaps you are right, pettie,” said the lady, and closed her eyes again, looking a shade martyred.
    "Oh dear, we are giving her a lot of trouble,” Harriet thought.
    This time the result was more satisfactory, and they thanked her with heartfelt gratitude.
    "How long will it last?” asked Mark.
    "Thirteen days. You will find that it wears off at midnight."
    "Like Cinderella,” said Harriet, nodding.
    "So remember not to give a performance just at that time. Well, dears, I am so pleased to have met you again, and please remember me to your dear Mamma."
    "Oh yes, she said do drop in to tea whenever you are passing. Good-bye, and thank you so much—you are kind—"
    When they had left her, they