Free The Whizz Pop Chocolate Shop by Kate Saunders

exist. Oz would have been more worried, however, if he hadn’t had a strange feeling that Isadore was rather glad to have his company. Maybe his best chance lay in being nice to him. “Is that your violin?”
    “Yes.” Isadore dried his eyes. “It’s my only companionin the long evenings. And it helps me to think. I play it when I’m studying, like Sherlock Holmes—you’ve heard of him, I suppose.”
    “The detective.”
    “I’m glad he’s still famous. The modern world is a mystery to me.” Isadore ate a ginger biscuit. “But I was forgetting, you play the violin. Please feel free to play mine.”
    “Thanks.” This was a relief; Oz went nowhere without his violin, and he hated the idea of not being able to make music. He thought it a bit odd that Isadore knew he played. He knew an awful lot about the people he wished didn’t exist.
    “I can’t force you,” Isadore said. “Like the ancient Israelites, you may be unable to play your songs in a strange land. But it would bring me great pleasure to hear something now.”
    He was so hungry and sour and sad that Oz didn’t have the heart to refuse. He went over to the violin and carefully lifted it out of its case. It was old and battered, the varnish covered with scratches, but it was perfectly in tune, and the tone was beautiful.
    Oz played the andante of a Mozart sonata, and the music echoed plaintively in the great underground chamber.
    Isadore wept again, and muttered, “Daisy—what other hope is there for me?”
    Suddenly, Oz was more hopeful. The other voice that he and Lily had heard when they were little was weaving in and out of the music, telling him to be of good cheer. The magic had been with them all along.

9
Cat At Large
    The house was spookily quiet without Oz and his music, and the day after the adventure in the river was as flat as a pancake. Lily tried not to mope too much, in case her parents started asking awkward questions. They were totally convinced that Oz was at music camp and having the time of his life—there were even two postcards from him on the kitchen bulletin board.
    It would have helped to talk to Demerara, but there was no sign of her. Lily wandered from room to room, waiting for the appearance of the portly golden cat. She looked behind the metal cylinder in the workshop, hoping to see the magic door to the “flat,” but the wall remained stubbornly blank.
    “I’m sorry you miss Oz so much,” Mum said. “But it might be good for both of you. Why don’t you do something with Caydon? You got on so well at that diving course.”
    Lily didn’t really want to do anything with Caydon. By the second day, however, she was so restless andbored—and so anxious to talk about what was really going on—that she went out into the street, where Caydon sat yawning on the wall.
    “Hi.”
    “Hi,” said Caydon. “Any news?”
    “Nothing.” Lily sat down beside him. “I think Demerara’s up to something—I haven’t seen her since we got home. She didn’t even show up for her manicure.”
    “I suppose we’ll hear if something happens,” Caydon said. “I hope Oz is OK and not being tortured or anything.”
    “Thanks for cheering me up,” Lily snapped.
    “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it worse. Do you want to do something?”
    “Like what?”
    “I don’t know,” Caydon said. “Do you like computer games?”
    “No.”
    “Swimming?”
    “I’ve had enough of the water, thanks.”
    “Maybe you’re right.” Caydon thought for a moment. “What about skateboarding?”
    “No!”
    “Well, have you ever tried?”
    “No.”
    “I’ll teach you.” Caydon said. “Come on—there’s nothing else to do.”
    Lily sighed. “OK.”
    She fetched Oz’s skateboard and began her lessons on the sloping path outside the flats. She kept falling off, but she was wearing jeans and not going fast enough to be hurt. After a surprisingly short time she began to enjoy herself.
    “You’re not bad,” said Caydon.