The Lost Fairy

Will anyone rescue Flora before the star takes her place?

MARIAN BRODERICK

The

•

Illustrated by AILEEN CAFFREY

MARIAN BRODERICK • AILEEN CAFFREY

Flora the Fairy is very proud.

Her place is at the TOP of the tree and she won't share it with anyone – especially not that silly star!

But when Flora falls off the tree the family are all so busy they forget to put her back.

THE LOST FAIRY

THE LOST FAIRY

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O'BRIEN

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FLYER books are for confident readers who can take on the challenge of a longer story.

Can YOU spot the aeroplane hidden in the story?

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MARIAN BRODERICK

is a writer and editor who lives

in London. Her parents are from Limerick and Donegal and she spent every summer of her childhood in Ireland. This is her first book for children.

AILEEN CAFFREY

is an illustrator who lives and

works in Howth, Co Dublin. She talks to plants, feeds foxes and regularly finds pencils and brushes in her hair. Her hobbies include sleepwalking.

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Marian Broderick Illustrated by Aileen Caffrey

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This edition first published 2015

by The O’Brien Press Ltd 12 Terenure Road East, Rathgar, Dublin 6, Ireland.

Tel: +353 1 4923333; Fax: +353 1 4922777 E-mail: books@obrien.ie Website: www.obrien.ie Originally published 2001 by The O’Brien Press Ltd, Reprinted 2002, 2005, 2007.

Digital edition 2020.

ISBN: 978-1-84717-739-1 Copyright for text © Marian Broderick Copyright for editing, layout, illustrations, design © The O’Brien Press Ltd All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilised in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or in any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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Editing, typesetting, layout, design: The O’Brien Press Ltd Illustrations: Aileen Caffrey

Published in:

The Lost Fairy received assistance from the Arts Council

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Chapter 1

Perfect Flora 7 Chapter 2

Mad Mummy 22 Chapter 3

Dopey Daddy 31 Chapter 4

Terrible Terry 38 Chapter 5

Pesky Patch 46 Chapter 6

Lily the Little 52

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TO: Joe, Róisín, Edel and Áine with lots of love

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Chapter 1

Perfect Flora Flora the Fairy sat at the very top of the Christmas tree and looked down at the family.

There was Mummy, Daddy, Terry the Teenager, Lily the Little and Patch the Puppy.

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They were a nice family as families go. A bit silly maybe, but happy and generous.

But Flora herself was gorgeous – and she knew it.

She had big brown eyes, a perfect nose and curly golden hair. She was extremely pretty and extremely proud of herself.

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Flora was also extremely old.

In fact, she was older than everyone in the family – even Mummy and Daddy. Of course, because she was a fairy, she looked just the same as when she was brand new.

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She had sat on her very first tree when Lily the Little’s great-grandma was a little girl herself. And that was ninety years ago!

Flora remembered it well: the horses clip-clopping,

the sleigh-bells ringing, the smell of chestnuts roasting.

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Flora wore a tiny, sparkly crown and held a little wand with a glittery jewel. Lily’s great-grandma had made these for her ninety years ago.

She wore white silk shoes, which Lily’s grandma had made sixty years ago.

She wore a rose-pink dress, which Lily’s mother had made thirty years ago.

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Flora LOVED being a fairy.

You didn’t have to do much (which was just as well because Flora was very lazy).

You always looked perfect (which Flora liked because she was very vain).

But, best of all, at Christmas time the fairy was the most important person in the whole house – or so they’d told Flora in Fairy School.

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Much more important than those cheeky snowmen halfway down the tree.

And miles more important than those silly reindeer below them.

Flora smirked. They all had to look up to her, like it or not.

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But Flora was nervous of one creature on the tree: the bright star two branches below her.

She had heard – and it was hard to believe – that some families put a star at the top of the tree instead of a fairy!!

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Sometimes Flora could see the star looking longingly at the top of the tree ...

Whenever she caught him at it, she shook his branch so he fell further down.

After all, Flora thought smugly, she was the one who made Christmas happen, not that silly star.

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Flora the Fairy was the reason Santa called to the house every Christmas.

The rules were:

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If Flora wasn’t sitting there, singing the list of presents at the stroke of midnight on Christmas Eve, no-one would get anything!

It would be a DISASTER!

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Flora had been taught this at Fairy School, so she believed it was absolutely true.

(Of course, Santa came to houses where the star was on top of the tree, and even houses where there was no tree at all, but Flora didn’t know that.)

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By now, Flora had this year’s song off by heart. She’d been a bit lazy and just changed the words of Jingle Bells.

Santa wouldn’t mind. Jingle Bells was one of his favourites.

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Chapter 2

Mad Mummy It was Christmas Eve, and a breeze blew through the window.

WHHOOOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHH! Bang!

Flora the Fairy fell off the tree.

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Flora lay on the floor. What, in the name of all that was sparkly, was she supposed to do now?

She couldn’t move much.

Fairies weren’t meant to. They were meant to sit at the top of Christmas trees, looking perfect, and singing to Santa.

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Occasionally a fairy might have trouble with an inquisitive fly or a pine needle in the wrong place.

But nobody in Fairy School had said anything about lying face-down with a mouthful of carpet.

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Just then, Mummy came in.

She blew up balloons and she hung up streamers.

‘Help! Help!’ squeaked Flora.

‘Put me back on the tree!’ But Mummy didn’t hear her.

She threw her wand at Mummy. Nothing.

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Mummy wrapped presents, tied bows, made phone calls. She was doing so many things at the same time, her arms looked like a windmill.

Finally, she spotted Flora and picked her up. ‘How did you get there?’ she asked in surprise. And she gave Flora a big, lipsticky kiss. ‘Flora the Fairy belongs on the tree,’ she said fondly.

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‘Gerroff!’ said Flora crossly.

‘You’ll mess up my face. Just put me back on the tree so I can do my job!’

There was a thud from the hall. ‘The post,’ Mummy exclaimed. ‘Oh great, more cards!’

And she tucked Flora under her arm as she collected a huge pile of envelopes from the letter-box.

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‘No! NO!’ Flora cried. ‘Forget the cards! Take me back to the tree, the tree, the TREE!!’

But it was too late. Mummy dropped Flora on the desk and began to read the cards.

‘One from Mrs Bird – robins in the snow; one from Aunty Jess ... ’ And she forgot all about Flora.

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Flora looked longingly at the shiny green tree, far away at the other end of the room.

Was it her imagination, or had the star moved up a branch?

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Flora howled. ‘Naughty Mummy!

Muddled, mixed-up, mad Mummy!

You won’t be getting perfume, jewellery or a hat! I’ll ask Santa to give you washing-up liquid, a flea-collar and a bat!’

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Chapter 3

Dopey Daddy Daddy came in. He hung up stockings, he blew up more balloons and put up even more streamers.

‘Help!’ said Flora, in a really cross little voice. ‘The tree! The tree! I must get back to the tree!’

Daddy ignored her.

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Flora took off her tiny, sparkly crown and threw it at him. Nothing.

Daddy put logs on the fire, fixed some broken fairy-lights, hung mistletoe over the door and put holly on all the pictures. He was doing so many things at the same time, his arms looked like an aeroplane propellor.

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Then at last, at long last, he spotted Flora.

‘Well, well!’ said Daddy. ‘I suppose I’d better pop this creature back on the tree.’

‘About time,’ grumbled ungrateful Flora.

But then something caught Daddy’s eye.

It was a picture of a nice, fat, brown turkey in the cookery book on the desk.

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‘Oops!’ said Daddy. ‘I nearly forgot. It’s my turn to make the stuffing this year. I’ll use Grandma’s recipe.’

‘No, No, NO!’ screamed Flora.

But it was too late. Daddy put the cookery book under one arm and Flora under the other.

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When he got to the kitchen he dropped Flora in the sink and began to chop onions and herbs and make breadcrumbs.

And he forgot all about poor Flora. ‘Bad Daddy!’ spluttered Flora angrily, her mouth full of smelly onion skins.

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She gazed anxiously at the shadow of the tree, far, far away in the other room.

She thought she could see the outline of the star. Was she imagining things or had he moved up even higher?

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Flora screeched. ‘Daft, dippy, dopey Daddy! You won’t be getting a bowling ball, a strimmer or mouse-mat this Christmas!

I’ll fix it so you get toilet rolls, rusty scissors and a ... a ... cowpat! Ha!’

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Chapter 4

Terrible Terry It was getting late on Christmas Eve. Terry the Teenager came into the kitchen. He looked in the fridge and opened the cupboards. He checked the biscuit box and picked a bit of icing off the cake.

‘Help! Help!’ squealed Flora from the sink. ‘Take me back to the tree! Now! PRONTO!’ Flora took off one of her silk shoes and threw it at Terry.

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By now her dress was torn and her eyes were dirty-black instead of velvet brown. She was a MESS!

Terry ate crisps, mince pies, nuts and chocolates. He drank coke, orange and lemonade. He ate and drank so many things at the same time his mouth looked like a cement mixer.

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But at last, at long last, he spotted Flora and picked her up. ‘I suppose that stupid fairy should go back on the pathetic tree,’ laughed Terry the Teenager. ‘Boy, is she ugly!’

‘Stupid?!’ fumed Flora, ‘Pathetic?!

Ugly?!’

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But then something caught Terry’s eye.

It was a big stack of CDs. ‘Oh, cool!’ said Terry, ‘these must be for me!’

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‘No, stop – they’re rubbish!’ yelled Flora.

But it was too late. Terry grabbed the CDs and ate and drank all the way upstairs.

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He threw Flora the Fairy straight into the laundry basket and began to play the music.

And he forgot all about poor Flora.

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‘Terrible teenager!’ howled Flora, through a mouthful of dirty socks.

‘Tubby, twerpy, teenaged twit!

I’ll fix you! You won’t be getting a guitar, a Discman or new jeans.

Instead you’ll be getting a wheelbarrow, a toothbrush and ... green beans!’

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Poor Flora. She was further away from the tree than ever now.

Who knew what was happening downstairs?

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Chapter 5

Pesky Patch It was late on Christmas Eve. Soon it would be getting dark.

Patch the Puppy came into Terry‘s bedroom. He chewed trainers and tore comics; he sniffed at socks and snuffled at the dirty sweaters in the laundry basket.

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This time Flora didn’t shout for help. She didn’t even squeak.

Instead she tried to keep very, very quiet.

‘Oh no,’ she whimpered to herself, ‘not the dog!’

‘Woof, woof-woof-woof!’ barked Patch, ‘Woof-woof … ’ 47

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And Patch the Puppy grabbed Flora the Fairy in his teeth. He chewed and growled all the way downstairs, and Flora’s head hit every step.

‘The t ... t ... tree?’ whispered Flora hopefully, between thumps.

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But something outside in the yard had caught Patch’s eye.

It was his food bowl – and it was FULL.

‘Woof!’ barked Patch happily, in a way that sounded a bit like ‘Yum-yum!’

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He dropped Flora beside his bowl and began to slurp his food. He dribbled and slavered and gulped, until Flora was completely covered in dog slobber. ‘Yeuch! Beastly beast!’ wailed Flora, her mouth full of dog hair.

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‘You poopy, pongy, pesky pup!

What on earth am I going to do NOW?’ Patch burped, picked Flora up again and buried her in the mud, like a bone. Only her head was sticking out.

‘Woof!’ he barked cheekily as he ran away.

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Chapter 6

Lily the Little Flora was further away from the tree than ever – she wasn’t even in the house! But she could just see it through the window, green and welcoming. Home.

And the star was only a teensy, tiny little bit away from the top of the tree!

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Flora the Fairy burst into tears.

Just then, Lily the Little came out.

Lily did not rush and fuss or chop and dust, or eat and drink or chew and tear.

She lined up her dolls and made them dance.

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She pretended she was a queen, she pretended she was a soldier.

She hopped on one foot, and she told a joke to Patch.

And then finally, at long last, Lily saw Flora the Fairy, up to her neck in the mud.

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Flora had a very, very dirty face (with traces of lipstick on it), very, very tangled hair (with bits of parsley in it), and doggy teeth-marks (with slobber in them) on her soft skin.

She was no longer very pretty and no longer very proud.

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‘Help!’ cried the poor fairy humbly.

‘Please, please help!’

It was the first time Flora had ever said ‘please’ in her life.

Lily gazed at Flora. ‘OK,’ she said.

Flora the Fairy’s dirty-black eyes opened wide under her tangled yellow and green hair.

‘You can hear me!’ she breathed.

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‘Of course I can!’ laughed Lily.

‘Everyone younger than eight-and-a-half can hear fairies.

Didn’t they teach you that in Fairy School?’

And Lily gently picked Flora up.

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Lily took Flora inside and washed the fairy’s face until it was clean and pink and her eyes were velvety brown again.

She brushed and combed Flora’s hair until it gleamed like gold and the curls bounced.

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Then Lily got out the sewing basket. She made Flora a beautiful rose-pink dress – just like her mother had done thirty years before.

She sewed Flora a pair of silk shoes – just like her grandma had done sixty years before.

And she made Flora a crown out of silver paper and a wand out of a matchstick – just like her great-grandma had done ninety years before.

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Finally, Lily got her favourite fluorescent-pink plastic brooch and pinned it on Flora’s new dress. It was her own special touch.

‘Now!’ she said. ‘You’re Flora the Fluorescent Fairy.’

Lily carried Flora over to the Christmas tree. She took down a silver ornament and held it up to Flora.

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Flora gazed at herself in the silver ball. Once again, she was perfect, pretty, and very, very proud.

But this time Flora wasn’t just proud of herself – this time she was proud of Lily.

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‘Lily the Little,’ she proclaimed, waving her brand new wand. ‘From now on you will be known as Lily the Lion-hearted, Lily the Loyal, and Lily the Lovely. Thank you, Lily!’

‘You’re very welcome,’ said Lily.

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Flora looked at the tree. The star was now almost in her place.

‘Not for long!’ she thought.

Still, she had to admit that he did shine rather nicely – he wasn’t as sparkly as she was, of course, but not bad ...

‘Lily,’ said Flora. ‘When you put me back on the tree can you put my friend, the Star, beside me?’

And Lily placed the Star on the top of the tree.

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Flora the Fluorescent Fairy sat beside him, right at the very top of the tree – where they both belonged.

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Will anyone rescue Flora before the star takes her place?

MARIAN BRODERICK

The

•

Illustrated by AILEEN CAFFREY

MARIAN BRODERICK • AILEEN CAFFREY

Flora the Fairy is very proud.

Her place is at the TOP of the tree and she won't share it with anyone – especially not that silly star!

But when Flora falls off the tree the family are all so busy they forget to put her back.

THE LOST FAIRY

THE LOST FAIRY

9

LY E

9

R

FLYERS

F

flyers

flyers

O'BRIEN