Free Von Gobstopper's Arcade by Alexandra Adornetto

prepared Milli and Ernest for what happened during their tour of the first floor. This floor, as you may recall from the directory, was where dolls and their paraphernalia were located. Glass cabinets along the main walkway displayed rare dolls in all their finery, too fragile or too valuable to be handled by inquisitive hands. Striking as these were, most children gave them only a fleeting glance, so intent were they on discovering the contents of the individual shops. The dolls were all exquisite, with radiant eyes, flawless complexions and heart-shaped mouths thecolour of the glacé cherries found in Christmas cakes. Some displays centred around specific themes, and one of the most lavish was called: A White Christmas for Gwendolyn and Friends. This charming scene had been assembled with the utmost attention to detail, from the crisp folds in the dolls’ dresses to the powdery snowflakes that fell in little mounds at their feet. Tiny presents were scattered around a decorated tree. Gwendolyn and her friends were dressed smartly in fur-trimmed navy capes and lace-up boots and arranged as if enjoying various snow-related activities. Two were busy constructing a snowman, others were rather recklessly skating on a pond that had frozen over, whilst Gwendolyn herself (easily identified by the finery of her dress) was stepping into a sleigh for a ride around the park. Dozens of glass eyes stared at Milli and Ernest.
    ‘Funny how if you stare long enough, you start to believe they’re looking back,’ Milli commented.
    ‘They are very lifelike,’ Ernest agreed, and they both hurried on to catch up with the others.
    It was then that the peculiar thing happened, and it happened, as most peculiar things do, quite by chance. When Ernest went to write down some historical fact Ms Anomali was telling them, he realised he had dropped his pencil. He ran back to look for it and found it, as expected, on the floor just in front of the snow display that he and Milli had stopped to admire. He bent to retrieve it and, giving the display a final glance, saw that something was different. He was sure that the main doll, Gwendolyn, had changed position. He was almost certain she had been standing alongside the sleigh the last time he looked. He looked more closely, and saw the imprint of tiny feet making a track through the snow. He followed the path and saw that someone had written a cryptic message in the snow in the foreground of the display. The letters were fine enough to have been made by the tip of Gwendolyn’s parasol; there was no other implement in the snowscape that could be responsible. He pressed his nose up against the display case and saw that the letters spelled out a phrase in a language he could not immediately identify: help us . On the glass right beside Ernest’s nose he thought he could see a tiny handprint, asif a doll’s hand had momentarily rested there. And when he looked at the dolls’ faces he imagined he saw something more than a glassy façade; he thought he saw a real and unaccountable sadness. The moment lasted only a second—interrupted by a call for Ernest to rejoin the group—but a second was enough for Ernest’s mind to click into top gear. When he looked at the letters again, he didn’t see a puzzle but a cry for help. For the letters were upside down and back to front. Positioned the right way they read: help us.
    As Ernest rejoined his classmates, he felt an icy hand clutch his shoulder. He jumped.
    ‘Young man,’ Ms Anomali scolded, ‘are you aware that you have been holding up the entire group? If we don’t get a move on we won’t be able to see everything.’
    ‘The doll, Gwendolyn…’ Ernest began rather helplessly, but stopped before he could say anything utterly absurd.
    ‘Yes, she’s very attractive,’ Ms Anomali continued for him, ‘but I’m afraid it’s not an attachment that shows the least bit of promise.’
    Some children tittered at this but Ernest justlooked blankly up