Free Charlotte Stone and the Children of the Nymet by Tasha O'Neill Page A

‘weather phenomena’ later for a more satisfying explanation.
    â€˜I thought the Fey lived in the Dreamtime?’ Charlotte asked her aunt.
    Clarissa gave her a strange look and Charlotte realised what she had said was clearly not common knowledge. Her aunt did not challenge her though and carried on as if they were having a normal conversation about the weather.
    â€˜Sometimes they come home,’ Clarissa responded matter-of-factly and returned to her gardening. ‘In answer to your question, no, it doesn’t happen often. In fact, the last time was when that picture in your room was painted.’
    â€˜How long ago was that?’
    â€˜You don’t need me to tell you that now, do you?’ Clarissa smiled one of her knowing smiles.
    Charlotte gazed at the tree again. The golden haze was gone but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was happening now for a reason. Maybe the tree was trying to tell her something? Or Edessa?
    Charlotte suddenly had an unnerving feeling they were being watched. A flash amongst the raspberry canes, like light on metal, followed by a fizzing sound took Charlotte by surprise.
I’ve had too much sun,
she thought to herself as she saw the shimmering outline of a tiny human figure for a split second before it popped out of sight.
    â€˜You don’t happen to have CDs amongst those, do you?’ she asked her aunt.
    â€˜No need, the birds know full well which ones they are allowed to eat.’
    There was a certain logic to that, Charlotte guessed, though she wondered, not for the first time, if Clarissa was just winding her up.
    â€˜So what would happen if a human went along to one of these balls?’ Charlotte asked, trying to distract herself from what she had seen.
    â€˜You would have to find it first.’
    â€˜But let’s say I did? I do come from a family of explorers after all.’
    Clarissa smiled as if to say she doubted it, but humoured her anyway.
    â€˜Fairies don’t take kindly to human gatecrashers.’
    â€˜I could wear a disguise?’
    Clarissa laughed at this. ‘A false pair of wings and pointy ears do not a fairy make. They would smell you out in a heartbeat.’
    Charlotte said nothing, but was still planning an expedition to the tree and busily devising ways she could pass herself off as a fairy, the flash and ghostly image forgotten.

    *
    â€˜There’s a vegetable stew bubbling away nicely on the Aga, should be ready soon,’ Jude said cheerily, as Charlotte strolled into the living room. ‘I’m just taking a moment to do my breathing exercises, helps me with my asthma.’
    Jude reached two palm-sized clear crystals out of her oversized handbag. ‘Gives it a little boost.’ She smiled before settling down in front of Clarissa’s meditation altar and started taking deep, noisy breaths.
    Charlotte dropped into the plump sofa, propping a sari silk cushion under her head. Cicero landed lightly on her chest and pawed her nose looking for attention.
    â€˜More novelty factor,’ she whispered to the cat but he was totally absorbed in directing Charlotte’s hand to just the right place behind his ear to scratch.
    A copy of the
Wykenhall Free Press
lay on the coffee table with the headline ‘SAVE OUR PARK’ and an image of the same tree on the hill – though it wasn’t glowing.
    Charlotte read the article about a proposal for a new housing and industrial estate to be built where Brackenheath Park currently stood. The new site would include facilities such as a cinema, restaurants and bowling alley as well as new housing and community facilities.

    Mr Julian Ransell, teacher at Wykenhall High School and resident, is in favour of the proposed development, saying it will be a boon for locals as well as improving the local economy and attracting tourism.
    The article finished with a further picture of a bony, hook-nosed man with cold eyes smirking at the camera,