Free Vile Visitors by Diana Wynne Jones

the wand, WHOP-WHOP the string of flags, and then all the other things WHOP WHOP WHOP, and they were all gone too. The big box that had held the things tipped over and made a bigger WHOP. And that was gone as well, before Simon could move. After that the other prizes started to vanish, WHOP WHOP WHOP. This seemed to interest the tablecloth. It put out a long exploring corner towards the box.

    At that, Simon came to his senses. He pushed the corner aside and rammed the lid on the box before the tablecloth had a chance to vanish too.
    As soon as the lid was on, the box was not there any more. There was not even a whisper of a WHOP as it went. It was just gone. And the tablecloth was just a tablecloth, lying half wrapped across the few prizes left. And the table stood still and was just a table. The jelly slid back into its bowl. Its feelers were gone and it was just a jelly.
    The music stopped too. Auntie Christa stopped too. Auntie Christa called out, “Well done, Philippa! You’ve won again! Come and choose a prize, dear.”
    â€œIt’s not fair!” somebody else complained. “Philippa’s won everything !”
    Marcia came racing over to Simon as he tried to straighten the tablecloth. “Look, look! You did it! Look!”
    Simon turned round in a dazed way. There were still two chairs standing in the middle of the hall after the game. One of them was an old shabby striped armchair. Simon was sure that was not right. “Who put—?” he began. Then he noticed that the chair was striped in sky-blue, orange and purple. Its stuffing was leaking in a sort of fuzz from its sideways top cushion. It had stains on both arms and on the seat. Chair Person was a chair again. The only odd thing was that the chair was wearing football socks and shiny shoes on its two front legs.

    â€œI’m not sure if it was the wand or the box,” Simon said.
    They pushed the armchair over against the wall while everyone was crowding round the food.
    â€œI don’t think I could bear to have it on our bonfire after this,” Marcia said. “It wouldn’t seem quite kind.”
    â€œIf we take its shoes and socks off,” Simon said, “we could leave it here. People will probably think it belongs to the hall.”
    â€œYes, it would be quite useful here,” Marcia agreed.
    Later on, after the children had gone and Auntie Christa had locked up the hall, saying over her shoulder, “Tell your mother and father that I’m not on speaking terms with either of them!” Simon and Marcia walked slowly home.
    Simon asked, “Do you think he knew we were going to put him on our bonfire? Was he having his revenge on us?”
    â€œHe may have been,” said Marcia. “He never talked about the bonfire, did he? But what was to stop him just asking us not to when he was a person?”
    â€œNo,” said Simon. “He didn’t have to set the house on fire. I suppose that shows the kind of Person he was.”



Copyright
    First published in hardback in Great Britain
by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2012
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd,
77-85 Fulham Palace Road, Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
    The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is:
www.harpercollins.co.uk
    www.dianawynnejones.com
    1
    Who Got Rid of Angus Flint? © 1975 Diana Wynne Jones
Chair Person © 1989 Diana Wynne Jones
Illustrations copyright © 2012 Marion Lindsay
    The author and illustrator assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of the work.
    ISBN: 978-0-00-748942-8
EPub Edition © AUGUST 2012 ISBN: 9780007489435
EPub Version 1
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