Chapter 1

The screaming woke me up again last night. The roof scared me; it scared all of us. Bang! Bang! My dad was thumping on the ceiling with a broom. It was a miracle he stirred himself to do that. He’d barely moved since mum left with the guy from the electric company. He came to read the meter and it was love at first sight. She still had her slippers on when the door closed and her new life without us began. I hated her a little for that but I found it hard to hold on to that anger. If I could, I’d leave my dad too.

I looked at my clock and saw it was still too early to get up so I picked up a book of poems by Emily Dickinson. I read my favourite one about anonymity over and over. “I am Nobody! Who are you?”

I would shout that like a battle cry at school when it was all getting a bit much. If Henry got angry and shoved me into the lockers, or if Ola told people lies about me, “I am Nobody! Who are you?” I felt overwhelmed often.

I read as the sun rose and I watched the warm golden glow creep across my wall. Sighing, I  gave up the comfort of my blankets. It was Saturday. Urgh. I hate Saturdays. I have to work hardest at the weekends. The washing needs to be caught up on and the shopping had to be done. I knew what I was missing out on because I could feel childhood slipping through my fingers. I saw the others at the park, playing joyfully, carefree. I watch the other parents doing the errands, not their kids. Not like I have to.

As I cooked breakfast, my dad was banging on the ceiling again. He would use the end of a broom for extra reach. This timed he added some shouting about the crazy foreign family next door and the animals they kept against the council’s rules on pets. I was careful not to burn the sausages again. No way I was going to make that mistake again. I crept into the front room. He was sat, exhausted from his flurry of activity, in his chair facing the telly. All I could see from the doorway was a few stray hairs that were left on his head peeking over the back of the chair. I slipped the sandwich on to the table next to him.

“Urg,” he grunted in acknowledgement and I retreated to the kitchen. It would be the only thanks I get unless something is wrong. I grabbed a slice of bread and dipped it in the sausage fat still liquid in the pan before my next job. I put on a load of whites, mostly my own school shirts, while rubbing absently at my chin. I was thinking about the time I put a red sock in with my school shirts. It had been an accident, but he didn’t care. The bruise filled half my face, but it had faded now. I told people I fell in the shower.

Next up was the bins, my least favourite job. Not just because the bin juice could leak all over my hands and I’d stink for days, nor because the bins were on the ground floor and we lived on the 23^rd floor. It was because my path to the rubbish chute took me past flat 2313.

2313 is at the end of my corridor. The only thing on the other side was the rubbish chute, the stairs up to the roof and a window that had one of the best views of London your will find. Everyone on my floor runs past door number 2313. Even the questionable body builder who stays up all night playing loud dance music jogs when he empties his kitchen bins.

It was all ok until about a year ago. This bizarre family from Puerto Rico moved in. I don’t know much more about them than that. I couldn’t tell you if there are four or five of them, but I there is definitely more than two. I also know that the night they moved in was the night the screaming began. One of the smaller ones, I assumed they were children, made frequent trips to the roof. The older kids in my block called him the “Roof Beast”. I think of him as the sneaker, Not that I even know it is a him.

When I was empting the bins that Saturday morning, the corridor was deserted. I made it all the way to the chute without incident. 2313’s door remained shut so I took a few minutes to admire the view. The Shard in the distance was striking when the sun hit it just right. This would the highlight of my week and I struggled to tear myself away. I didn’t want it to end. For a moment despair rolled over me. It felt like being hit by a bus. How could this be my life? I let the waves of bitterness and resentment wash over me as I looked for a way out. A distraction would have been OK for the time being. That was when I saw the stairs to the roof. A little excitement would make me feel alive again, a little fear to get the heart beating again.

Four grey concrete steps, with peeling black and yellow tape running along the edges, led to a green steel door. The door was usually bolted tight with a padlock that could keep a dragon at bay. As I looked up that morning I saw a couple of inches of sunlight shining around the edge. The door was ajar.

Chapter 2

The door stood open. Not very open, but open enough for me to see a sliver of light radiating through the gap. I placed my foot on the first of four concrete steps. Nothing happened. I don’t know what I expected to happen, but it didn’t happen whatever it was. My foot found the second step seemingly of its own accord. This time something did happen. The light in the gap went out. The door hadn’t closed, It was still ajar. Someone, or something, must be blocking the light. They were coming.

I turned and jumped down the steps and ran to my own front door without looking behind me. Hands shaking, I lifted my key to the lock. It took me four attempts to get the key in, but when I did it was turn and in. I slammed the door a little harder then I was intending to. The adrenaline pumping through me kept me simultaneously fearful and excited like the moment before the rollercoaster goes over the top.

My dad was still in his chair watching some show about antiques. There was a pottery unicorn for sale and some fool was about to pay hundreds of pounds for it. It was clearly a fake. Real unicorns were a bright shade of pink, not whit like the one on the telly. Whoever made it had clearly never seen a unicorn.

The regular Saturday routine was still waiting for me, so I grabbed my coat, the fiver off the shelf and headed for the shops. I had to buy the food for tonight’s dinner. I was good at finding bargains. I had to be if I wanted to eat too. Feeding one person for five pounds a day can be tricky, feeding two was much harder. I could do it now. It took me a few hungry weeks to get it right, but I could even save a bit some weeks. I would squirrel away 10p here and 6p there. I was saving up for the latest craze that was sweeping the playground.

The crazes changed weekly and it was usually lead by Tallulah in Year 6. She would buy something, tell others that they were “Seriously, like super uncool,” if they didn’t have it, then wait for enough people to waste there money on it before moving onto the next thing. People fell for it ever week and every week I was labelled as a social outcast for not having the flashing dummy, or the fluffy ended pencil, or you get the idea. Last week, it was a sweet called “Unicorn Poo!”

Tallulah told everyone that, “It is, like so the most amazingness food you ever put in your mouth.” It was just fudge with edible glitter in it. It cost £2 a box. It did look delectable. I had seen the adverts for it TV. “The taste that transports you! Never will you eat anything as choccylicious as Unicorn Poo!” I wanted it, I couldn’t help it. Without realising where my feet had taken me, I was stood outside the sweet shop on the corner of our block. They had some in the window. I dug my hand deep into my pocket and scooped out all my change. I had £1.53. Blast.

Huge, fat drops of rain started to fall to compound my misery. I hurried back to my chores before the fish fingers got soggy. I pressed the button for the lift. It didn’t come. Twenty three floors was a lot to tackle.

Fighting for breath, I reached the top of my block. The harsh yellow light glistened on my shiny face. That was when I saw why the lift had not come. While I was catching my breath, the lift door was trying to close. No doubt being called on numerous floors. I could only hope it was no poor Mr Green on the fifteenth. He could not manage those stairs without a lung transplant and a new set of legs. The door was being stopped from closing by a large cardboard box that had been wedged in the lift entrance. Next to the box stood to short people. They might have been children, I don’t know because they were covered from head to toe in my estates uniform. Grey tracksuit bottoms, a matching hoodie and a cap. The hoods were pulled up so tight I couldn’t even see their faces. I couldn’t make out what they were saying either. They could have been speaking Spanish but I do French at school so who knows. All I know is, it was not English. Shouting like they were, they must have been arguing.

“Do you need any help?” I asked. What was I doing! They fell silent instantly and looked round at me. I peered hard in to the recesses of the hood but I still could not make out their features.

“Naahoooo,” The one on the left said. It sounded like the word no but it was hard to tell. Then they both scuttled in to open door of 2313 and slammed it shut. I walked on to my flat and took a quick look at the box along the way. I moved it out the door and the lift finally got on with its job. The box was labelled with just one large sticker. It was on the side facing the lift so I didn’t see it before. It was branded “Unicorn Poo!”

What did the people of 2313 have to do with the fudge everyone at school was obsessed with?

I went into my flat and got on with dinner. I dished up soggy fish fingers and chips to an ungrateful father, or the back of his head at least and if I’m lucky that’s all I’ll see. The time eventually came to take out the rubbish. I lifted out the bag and tied a large know in the top, picked my way quietly to the rubbish chute next to 2313 and dropped the bag in. This time, I wasted no time looking at the view, which was disappearing into the evening gloom now anyway, and made straight for the stairs that lead to the roof. Last time I made it up two. This time I would try for three steps. I might even be brave enough to touch the door.

The first step. The door was open again, just a few centimetres, but enough to see light.

The second step. There was something strange about that light. It looked like it could have been a rainbow. The top of the door glowed red. My eyes tracked down through orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and finally violet. It was definitely a rainbow.

The third step. I’d never been this far before. I reached out trembling fingers and the tips gently pressed on the steel door. It was not cold like I expected, but warm and soft, not like steel at all. It was also much lighter than any steel door I’d opened before, which, to be fair, was not many. It was so light in fact that when my fingers caressed the surface the door swung open.

You won’t believe what I saw!

Chapter 3

I stood on the third step and I with my mouth hanging open. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. After all the anticipation, all the build-up, behind the door was nothing. Not a shimmering viod of nothing, not a worm hole into the gapping vastness of nothing. Just nothing of interest. A roof. Nothing more and nothing less. A roof.

I been here before, in happier times, with my mum. There were massive engine like machines in cages. I used to pretend that they were the engines and the whole tower was an immense rocket going to blast off to mars or something. Now that the magic is gone, I know they are just for circulating air around the block.

I left the third step behind and walked around the roof top. It was filthy. It was covered in cigarette butts and empty cans of Whizz energy drink some of these had been sat up here so long they looked rusted into place. There were other things scattered around the floor that looked sharp and dangerous. I stayed well away from those.  I couldn’t believe my mum used to let me play up here but then again the negligence turned out to be quite in character.

It was not important what I did see, what was important was what I didn’t see. There were no people. I swore I saw them before the door opened but now… There were no animals, or cages or boxes. Nothing at all that could be screaming in the middle of the night. There was one more thing I was expecting to see but it was so outlandish I couldn’t even whisper it aloud.

I decided this needed some investigating. I adopted the classic detective pose, hunched back looking squarely at the ground by my feet and handed clasped behind my back. I strode around the buildings top until I was satisfied there was nothing to find. Other than a couple of empty sweet wrappers, they would be Unicorn poo, there was nothing to see.

With shoulders slumped, I headed back to my flat. Number 2313 remained quiet with its door firmly closed. Dejectedly, I put my key into my door and turned. I was well practiced at keeping the door silent as I entered the flat, I didn’t need to give it any thought. Dad was watching telly, some over excited shouty man driving a car too fast. I crept into my room and he didn’t turn. He didn’t know whether I was in or out. I don’t think he cared. I was glad to be under his radar for a change. I went to bed unable to quash the sinking disappointment of my trip to the roof. A vision of rainbows danced through my head as I closed my eyes and sleep took me in its comforting embrace.

Screeeeeeeee!

My eye shot open like spring loaded trap doors. I became instantly aware that I was not alone in my room. The noise that woke me came from the inexplicably empty roof. The screaming had started again. The presence in my room was an indistinct dark shadow in the corner by the door. I scrambled back of my mattress losing the duvet in the process. I opened my mouth but my throat constricted and I made no sound. The menace in the corner stepped closer. It was a man.

“Ak,” I squeaked. It was the best I could do and was no louder than a spider’s burp. The man took another step. It was my father. His presence was no comforting like a father should be. A dad in his daughter’s bedroom should be able to make all the bumps in the night go away but the back of my neck started sweating. I pulled further away. He looked oddly hurt before his face twisted with anger and he raised his hand. His rough grip on my hair made me move quickly but not quick enough for him. He smelt sour like milk left in the sun and mixed with bleach.  He dragged me towards the door, opened it and dropped me in the entrance.

“Sort out that noise,” he snapped harshly and slammed the door behind me. It took me a long few minutes before I could uncover my eyes. I had to shield them from the unforgiving lights in the corridor but when I finally got my wits about me I was astounded by what I saw. The corridor was a hive of activity.

Here were the same people I saw before wrestling with the lift door, only this time they had their hoods down. On the side of their heads were the strangest ears I’d ever seen. They were long, almost reaching to the tops of their heads, and covered in a fine downy hair like a kitten. But that is not all, their eyebrows were all far too long. If left alone, the eyebrow hair would reach down past their chins, but few of them left them alone. They were all styled in different ways. The two entering the lift had spiked the brows, one in several small spikes and the other in one large point. A creature nearest to me had them arranged in a fan and another by flat 2313 looked as if they had been permed. Every one of them was staring at her like a rabbit caught in headlights. It looked like some had pressed the pause button for the building while they went to brew a cup of tea. Any second now they would return and the corridor would burst into life. But it didn’t.

There was some garbled shouting from inside 2313. The ‘person’ nearest the door  said something in their messed up funky language out of the corner of its mouth.

“Germble nof shincatle!” it muttered urgently. This was followed by more confused shouting.

“Shhhhh,” it shushed back. “Aill donny nink it shaw fluss.”

I could almost make that out. It sounded familiar enough to tickle her brain but strange enough to remain gobbledygook.

“Emerree bidle donny shiftless.”

At last I found my voice, it was hiding behind my tonsils all this time. I plucked up some courage and said…

Chapter 4

“I can see you, you know,” I said. It was hardly one of Shakespeare’s soliloquies but it felt like it to me. It was as hard to get out as the whole unforgettable “Now” speech from Richard the wotsit. You know, “Now… something something something else.”

They remained frozen, rooted to the spot. I began to feel more than slightly awkward, sat on the floor outside my door, so I got to my feet. They still didn’t move except their eyes. They followed me up. I took a step towards them and they flinched away like I was brandishing an axe. We all stood there a while longer when suddenly they moved. It was like watching the mice in the kitchen scatter when the light comes on. Two of them disappeared behind the lift doors, one shot into the stairwell and the rest funnelled into flat 2313. Before I knew it I was stood on my own in a silent corridor in the middle of the night.  What should I do? I had a choice. I could have gone back to bed, and maybe I should have done, but I didn’t. I marched up to the door of 2313. I raised my hand and clenched a fist. Pulling back my hand, I wrapped four times as loud as I could. My hand was not the only thing clenched. My whole body was tensed. Waiting was painful. Of course there was no answer. I can’t believe I thought there would be.

“I know you’re in there and I know what you are!” I shouted, “Well, I’m not really sure what you are but you know what I mean, you know…” That was forceful I thought to myself. I banged my fist some more on the door. Still nothing. Bang bang Bang! I tried a rhythm. Rat-a-tat-tat.

I worked, the door opened a crack.

“Whatus Youll wantals?” said a voice from the crack in the door.

What did I wantals? It was a good question. I was so determined to see these people again that I never stopped to think why.

“I, err, saw you just now, here in the corridor,” I said. The door opened a little more and an eye locked with mine. It was piercing and I felt a shiver run up my back. It was like being x-rayed by a jet of cold water, if you could imagine such a thing.  The voice behind the eye grunted and walked away but they didn’t close the door. They left it a few centimetres and I could see light through the gap. I wasn’t sure if they intended for me to follow or what but I did. I entered flat 2313.

I have been in twelve different flats in this block. Sometimes friends might invite me in for dinner, or my dad had annoyed someone and I had to go around and apologise. Once I was beckoned inside flat 1405 because I fell over and scrapped my knee. The nice old lady in there cleaned it up and sent me on my way. Every flat was identical. Sure they were decorated differently, but the layout was always the same. Not this one.

The ceiling was much lower, with beams of ancient wood, blacked with age, holding it up. There were low wooden benches circling the room that looked a lot like pews you might find in an old church. Only one of them was occupied by three more of the creatures I had seen outside. I think two of them I may have seen already but one new. I knew because he had his flowing eyebrows tied up like pigtails. On the back wall, the one furthest from the door, was an immense fireplace that looked to be carved out of one gargantuan hunk of granite. It may have even been a cliff face or the back wall of a cave if I wasn’t on the 23rd floor. Burning in the fire place was a log fire giving off its cosy crackles and aromas. An even better small was coming from the kitchen. Someone in there was cooking beef and baking bread and the smell made my mouth water instantly. I wiped my mouth and fought the urge to go in.

From where I was standing, I could see seven of the creatures, three sat down I had already mentioned, three stood in front of the window blocking my view and a crusty old one who had answered the door. That one had turned on my and was staring hard. It seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

“What are you?” I blurted, “Not being rude or nothing, but I’ve never seen…”

The crusty one continued to stare with eyes that had seen it all before. I began to think I must have had something on my face. It walked up to me on stumpy legs that had been too far already and wanted to sit down.

“We are,” it started, drawing itself up to its full diminutive height. “FAIRIES!”

“No, your not,” I said before thinking.

“Hurumpff. What did you expect? Wings? Little inappropriate and impractical green dresses?”

“Well, yes.”

“Blummin’ Disney! We exsist for hundreds of years in the Black forest and no-one knows what we look like but people make one film and suddenly we’re all Tinkabell.” It had to catch its breath after that short exertion, but when it continued its voice had an edge of power. A voice that hinted of ancient magic and forces beyond my comprehension. “We are the fairies of the Black forest! Keepers of the Secret things. Holders of the Magic stuff.”

About forty five million questions sprang unbidden to my brain, some of them were rational questions, others were as crazy as the situation I found myself in. All thought, however, was banished from my mind by what I saw out of the window. The three Fairies over there moved their conversation into the kitchen and my view became obscured.

We were in a forest glade. A clearing completely surrounded by trees. Sun beams shone through the canopy and danced across the forest floor turning the leaf litter into a ballroom in the grandest sense. It looked like exact sort of place you might expect to find fairies.

“Is that the Black Forest outside the window?” I asked.

“Of course it is!” snapped the crusty one cantankerously, “We never leave our forest.”

“But aren’t we on the twenty-third floor?”

“Of course we are! You just came through the door didn’t you?”

I felt dizzy. The concept was blowing my mind in slow motion. I felt the whole process. First, I was in a forest. Boom. Then I was on floor twenty-three. Kerblam. Finally, I was in both at once. Splat and squelch. Mind blown.

“We can’t be in both!” I said, my head trying to get a handle on anything. I was grasping at straws.

“Why not?” It asked.

I had no answer. Instead of answering I opened the floodgates to my questions. I didn’t act cool or stylish in any way. I even think I may have let my voice sound all stressy and high pitched.

“How can you be fairies? What do you mean I’m in flat 2313 AND the Black Forest? Whay are you here/ how can I suddenly understand everything you say? What are yu doing on the roof? Hat is with those eyebrows? What brand of hairspray are you using? Why does that one in the corner keep looking at me funny? Can I have some of what your cooking?” My mouth continued flapping but no more questions came out for now.

The old fairy with gray eye brows that dangled down beyond its waist came to the stand too close for comfort. A looked passed over its face that was but kind and pitying, a sad sort of smile that was a stark contrast to to the grumpiness of before. It whispered just one word in my ear that answered nearly all of my questions, the asked ones, the unasked ones and the ones I hadn’t even thought of yet.

“Magic,” it said, “It has always been the magic, my dear, and it forever will be.”

Chapter 5

“I want to know more about your magic!” I said. The delight I was feeling skipped out of my voice like startled blackbirds in a tree. “How can I use your magic?”

The old fairy looked me in the eye with the same expression my teacher would use when Joe asked a question in maths. Joe was a few grapes short of a bunch, in fact, I think was mostly bananas. The same wry humour and thin patience were written all over his face.

“Are you a Fairy?” he asked.

“No,” I said, feeling slightly foolish.

“Are you, perhaps a knoll?” he continued but I just stared at my shoes. I didn’t want to meet his eye. “Could you be a pixie, or gnome? No?”

I shook my head.

“Well you won’t be using any magic today, or any time soon,” He paused, waiting for a reaction from me. I had to look up now, to see if he was angry with me. I raised my eye line just enough to see a kind smile lifting the corner of his mouth and making the tips of his prestigious eyebrows quiver. When I was finally meeting his ancient gaze, he said “Not yet, anyway. Give it time.”

His words and his smile filled my bones with joy. I don’t know if it was his kindness or his magic, but I felt rejuvenated. “Could I at least have a wander around your forest? I have no wish to return to reality just yet.”

He nodded. No more words were needed. He understood something. I didn’t know what it was yet, but I knew that was OK. I didn’t need to understand yet. All things would become clear through time. So I took the time to wander amongst the great boles of the Black Forest.

I stepped out into the clearing and I was stunned by the stillness and peace I felt being there. Like someone took all of the stress and conflict and locked it back in the tower block. Here I was free of it all. The peace and stillness was just an illusion. As I studied my surroundings, I started to spot little traces of life, a fly here or a bird there. These traces became more. Everywhere I looked something was moving. There were thousands of insects and arachnids crawling over most surfaces in a wonderful march of existence and hundreds of birds flitting from branch to branch, feeding their young and building nests. Two red squirrels came scampering down a large oak and stopped in front of me. They were chattering and clicking in a joyous musical language that I was close to understanding. I thought they wanted me to follow them, and when I took a step in their direction they ran a couple of metres and stopped to wait. This continued and was how I got my guided tour of the Black Forest.

The squirrels took me to see the deer and the brown bears, all happily doing whatever it is the deer and the brown bears do. I saw more of the fairies. These ones were getting ready for autumn by painting the leaves of some trees orange and yellow, using their eyebrows like paintbrushes. There were some tiny people buzzing around on butterfly wings, they were lifting the leaves up to the tree tops and bringing down fresh green ones ready for a coat of brown. I saw the knolls and the pixies the fairy mentioned before. They were preparing cakes. Mixing chocolate with cherries and boxing them up for distribution around the world. There were gnomes fishing in the pond and some German tourists looking bewildered and lost. I pointed them away from all the magical folk and hoped it was the way they wanted. The last thing I would want is to be responsible for them wandering about for the next forty years.

The final thing I saw was perhaps the most wondrous. The squirrels brought me to the final clearing of the day. I’d seen some pretty amazing sights and I was even beginning to get used to the magical creatures, that I’d only ever heard about in stories, coming to life before my eyes. What I saw left me dumbstruck with awe and wonder. They were truly awesome. The unicorns. A small herd of unicorns stood around eating grass by a glistening pond. The sun was always striking them just right so they appeared to glow slightly against the drab background of greens and browns. Their coats were pure, glossy white. You may have had a room painted white at home or at school. It wasn’t, not next to this, even the most brilliant white paper or paint would appear cream. It hurt my eyes to look at them for too long. I stepped into the glade and they lifted their heads, horn and all, as one. It struck me how dangerous one of these would be it charged you. The air smelt like warm sugar and tasted of candy floss. Stood next to one of the magnificent beasts was the old fairy and he was beckoning me over. I approached cautiously, taking pains to avoid the spiked head end.

“These are our latest plan,” he said in a whisper so not to spook the unicorn. “We are hoping to buy these forests. We are the last of our kind in the world. Our habitats have been destroyed slowly by mans greed for timber or for the metals under our feet and we have been driven to extinction. We of the Black forest set up a sanctuary for all the magical creatures of the world and hope to protect enough to keep us going for the next few thousands of years. However, peace does not come cheap. We aim to make enough money to buy this whole forest and protect it as a refuge for all time. We have plan.

“The children of the world are fickle and demanding. We exploit this by creating fads for school children to go crazy over and nag their parents into buying. The mums and the dads just want a peaceful weekend so they give in and buy whatever their precious little poppets want. They spend and we are one step to safety.”

“That’s a great idea!” I said, “What have you done before?”

“Do you remember Pogs? No they are probably before your time. What about Rubic’s they were us.”

“Did you do Pokémon?” I asked. Thinking of the weird I had seen through the day and have expecting Pikachu to appear from behind a bush.

“No, alas that was all Nintendo. I think if we had thought of them we could have bought the whole of Germany,” he said and his brows drooped almost to the ground but they soon picked up again when he said, “We are now selling unicorn poo, it is actually unicorn poo but it tastes amazing,” he bent down, picked a bit and offered it to me. I declined. “we almost have enough to buy the land we need.”

“Then I will do what I can to help!” The next few weeks were a bit of a blur. I pushed as much of the Unicorn Poo at school as I could, which was not hard as the kids loved it. I started spending less and less time with my father and more time in Germany. This was no loss to me and I don’t think my dad even noticed. He didn’t notice much since mum left. Everything was going well. Until…

There was something in my eye. Whatever it was ticking my cheeks and making my nose itch. Marched into the bathroom in the cabin that was flat 2313, the large wooden tub contained a very surprised fairy who was thankfully covered with bubbles. In the mirror I saw them, clear as the eyebrows on my face, because they were the eyebrows on my face. They dangled down into eyes and ticked my cheeks. I was becoming a fairy.

This was not as bad as it might seem. I lifted my hands to the front of my face. Small sparked flew from the tips as they tingled with magic. If I closed my eyes I could feel it all around me. I was part of it and it was part of me.

Before long my eyebrows were down past my chin. Three out of four of the last big crazes to sweep school were mine. Slime was the first one, that was easy, I just had the toads make extra out of their backs. The next two were match attack cards and collectable cat figures, each one more adorable than the last. We made enough money to create our sanctuary.

I never saw those German tourists again, or any others for that matter. Life was simple and life was good. I would ride around for hours on Barry, my unicorn, and eat nothing but Black Forest Gateaux. I still missed my mum, but she walked out on me and didn’t deserve me. Neither did my dad. They didn’t appreciate me the way the forest did, or the way the magic did.

Next we are moving our London base out of flat 2313, and into a sleepy corner of the city called Abbey Wood. I don’t know if you know it, but if you here strange noises coming from the woods, or your neighbour’s garden. It probably isn’t us. Best if you ignore it. Not like I did. Oh, and that white horse you saw last week. That was not me on Barry.