**Diary Entry The Bluebells**
We almost made itjust a step and a half too late. Ellie and I watched as the old tram rattled away from the stop. Now wed have to wait at least fifteen minutes for the next one.
“Youre always dawdling!” I sighed. “How many times must I say it? Hang your coat neatly, put your shoes away when you come back from nursery. Then we wouldnt waste time scrambling to leave. And why did you need those crayons? Couldnt you have waited till we got home?”
“Mummy! You dont understand!” Ellie gave me that sly little squint. “I promised Lucy yesterday. And *you* always say if you make a promise, you have to keep it. Right?”
“Well yes, I did say that. But now weve missed the tram! Ive got the night shift, and I still need to iron your dress, make dinner, and pack your lunch. Whos going to do it all? Granny Edith?”
“Dont worry, Mummy. Itll be finejust dont be cross. Granny Edith says that too. Oh! Look!” Ellie pointed to a sad little bouquet left on the bench. “What are these flowers called?”
“Bluebells. They grow in the woods. Someone picked them and tossed them aside. Or forgot them.”
“Theyre so pretty, Mummy! Can we take them?”
“More rubbish to carry Fine, take them. And hurrythe trams coming.”
Ellie clung to that bouquet all the way home. The stems were crushed, the petals wilted, but to her, they were magical. Soft violet, with the faintest sweet scentlike something from a fairy tale. A man on the tram said if she planted them, theyd come back to life. A pregnant woman shook her head firmly. “No, put them in water. Only water.” Another passenger hissed as she left, “Silly nonsense. Shouldve bought proper flowers.” I stared out the window while Ellie whispered to the bluebells, “Ill hide you when we get home. Then they can say what they like!”
We live on the second floor. Below us are Granny Edith and her husband, whom everyone calls “Mr. Albert”though Ellie calls him “Grandad Al.” Theyre not family, just neighbours, but they might as well be. Granny Edith helps with chores; Grandad Al fixes thingsloose cupboard doors, broken locks. And if theres baking or nursery runs, Granny steps in. They never ask for help. “Weve got all we need,” they say.
Under their balcony, lilacs bloom. And beneath those lilacs lies Ellies secret spota tiny hidden place no ones meant to know about. (Though Grandad Al and Granny Edith do. They just pretend not to. Otherwise, wheres the fun?)
Ellie dashed ahead from the tram stop, desperate to save her bluebells. While I cooked and ironed, she dug a hole under the lilacs, tucked the flowers in, and watered them. They didnt wake up. “Maybe theyre still asleep,” she decided. “Ill come back after I see Mummy off.”
After dinner, Ellie forgot all about Lucys crayons and ran back outside. Twilight had settled over London like a grey blanket. Granny Edith was about to fetch herEllie always stayed with them when I worked nightsbut Grandad Al stopped her with a quiet gesture.
Ellie was crouched by her secret spot, crying. The bluebells lay limp in a puddle.
Granny Edith slipped out and tiptoed over. “Whats the matter, love?”
“Granny, they wont wake up! I gave them so much water, but theyre just lying there! Are they dead?”
“Oh, sweetheart, theyre poorly, thats all. Picked flowers always feel poorly.”
“I didnt pick them! Someone left them on the bench.”
“Well, never mind. Ive got just the thing.” She hurried inside, scooped flour into a matchbox, and returned. “Magic powder for flowers. Almost gone, but thisll do.” She sprinkled it over the bluebells, murmuring, “*Fairies dance, fairies sing, bring these little bells to spring!*” Then she dusted the rest around the puddle. “There. Now they need rest. The magic will work by morning.”
“Is it *really* magic?”
“Cross my heart. Now comebedtime.”
Ellie gave the bluebells one last worried glance before following Granny inside.
She was fast asleep when Grandad Al lugged his rusty bicycle onto the balcony.
“Did you pack the torch?” Granny Edith fretted.
“Course I did!”
“And your trowel?”
“Wouldnt go without it.”
“Ive filled the thermos with tea.”
“Tea? Blimey, woman, Im not climbing Everest!”
“Just dont linger in the woods. Ill fret.”
“Ill be quick. Did you pack the plastic sheet?”
“Yes, yes. Off you go.”
He wheeled the bike out quietly. Granny shut the door behind him and tiptoed back to Ellie.
Dawn came, and so did Elliestill in her pyjamas, racing to her secret spot.
And there it was: a miracle. Where a muddy puddle had been, a cluster of fresh bluebells swayed. Ellie stroked their petals, whispering secrets only they could hear.
From the balcony, Granny Edith and Grandad Al watched, smiling.
Hard to say who was happierEllie with her “saved” bluebells, or the two whod made the magic real.
