Free Glubbslyme by Jacqueline Wilson Page A

the greenhouse, snapping up flies with a smile on his face, but when she opened the door he immediately huddled into a corner and did his best to look dejected.
    ‘Lunch-time, Glubbslyme,’ she said brightly.
    ‘It has been such a long day that I did think it supper -time,’ said Glubbslyme mournfully. ‘I trust you had a delightful meeting with your special friend?’
    ‘You’re my special friend, Glubbslyme. Come and see the treat I’ve made you for lunch. Come on, there’s a good boy.’
    ‘I am not a boy, I am an extremely elderly amphibian, and I am not good, I am very bad indeed – or I did used to be,’ said Glubbslyme. ‘How can I practise the Black Arts under your puny protection? I have not caused any disease, death or serious damage since I emerged from the pond. I may as well return to its murky deeps. You do not appreciate me – or my powers. You prefer to play with your little friend. Therefore return me to my pond, if you please – though I will lunch first, before the journey. A treat for lunch, you said?’
    ‘Come and see,’ said Rebecca.
    Glubbslyme wasn’t in a mood to enthuse, and he simply sniffed when he saw the sweet Jumbo sandwich carefully cut up into toad-size triangles. But he ate it up eagerly, smacking his lips, and even licked the plate when he thought Rebecca wasn’t watching.
    ‘I suppose I’d better take you back to your pond now,’ Rebecca teased.
    Glubbslyme looked alarmed.
    ‘I ought not embark on a long journey with a full stomach.’
    ‘So when shall I take you?’
    ‘I did not state categorically that I must be returned,’ said Glubbslyme. ‘I merely stated that my powers are wasted with you. I feel them withering within me. I shall lack the power to put a simple hex on someone soon. Come along, child, have you no enemies?’
    ‘I do,’ said Rebecca darkly.
    ‘Then let us hex them forthwith,’ said Glubbslyme, flexing his four limbs in preparation. ‘Name all the persons.’
    ‘There’s only one person actually,’ said Rebecca. ‘Her name’s Mandy.’
    ‘Her other names?’
    ‘I don’t know.’
    Glubbslyme sighed. ‘We must endeavour to be specific lest we hex all Mandys within fifty miles. What are this particular Mandy’s characteristics?’
    ‘She’s pretty and she’s very nasty and she’s got new black shoes with high heels.’
    ‘That will suffice. Halt, hapless child, so winsome, wicked, and well-shod. We are about to put a hex upon you.’
    ‘Just a little jokey hex Glubbslyme. Give her the hiccups or a boil on her bottom. Nothing serious,’ said Rebecca.
    She started the chant of seven Glubbslymes but she felt a bit anxious. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea after all. That was the trouble. It was a bad idea. Bad magic.
    ‘Stop it, Glubbslyme. Stop your eyes revolving. I’ve changed my mind!’ Rebecca shouted.
    But it was too late.

The slugs were crawling all over Mandy. They wriggled up her arms and down her legs into her new shiny shoes. They spiralled up her neck and glided across her glossy pink lips. Rebecca screamed and tried to pick them off Mandy but she was whirled away by a sudden tempest. She floated helplessly up in the air while she watched poor Mandy writhing down below. She ran to the pond to try to wash the slugs away but someone had tied Mandy’s thumbs to the heels of her new shoes. She hurled herself into the pond but she didn’t come up.
    ‘Help! Help ! Mandy’s drowning and it’s all my fault!’ Rebecca screamed.
    ‘Hey, hey! Wake up, poppet, you’re having a nasty dream. It’s all right, Dad’s here.’
    Rebecca woke up and found herself sobbing in Dad’s arms. He sat on the edge of her bed and rocked her as if she were a baby.
    ‘Oh Dad, what am I going to do? Poor Mandy,’ Rebecca sobbed.
    ‘There now. It was just a dream,’ said Dad.
    ‘I let him put a hex on her,’ Rebecca wailed.
    ‘Come on, pet, you’re still half asleep,’ said Dad.
    ‘No I’m not. Oh Dad, you don’t