Molly and Pim and the Millions of Stars (14 page)

Molly opened her eyes and let out a short, loud, busy sort of sigh. It was hard to
summon feelings exactly when you needed them.

She lifted the bottle of calendula tincture and poured it into a mixing bowl. She
hardly noticed Claudine, who had been circling Molly's leg beneath the table and
who now leapt onto the table, knocking over the jar of spurge milk sap. The sap spread
in a pale white, useless puddle on the table.

Molly looked at it in horror. Claudine sniffed it disparagingly, as if to say, ‘It's
not even real milk.' She leapt down again and sat with her tail
curled in, looking
elsewhere, as cats sometimes do when they think they might be in trouble.

‘Well, Claudine, if you think this is going to make me get you some milk, you are
very, very wrong, as now I think you are just a spoiled cat, and I am not in the
mood at all for trying to find you some milk.' Molly threw her arms up. ‘You've ruined
my green oil. Ruined!' she added dramatically.

Molly pushed aside her mama's notebooks, which were smeared with milk sap, and as
she shook one dry, a piece of paper fell out. She picked it up and read it. It was
in her mama's handwriting.

Uses for petty spurge, also known as milkweed,
wart weed, radium weed: sap burns
off sunspots, warts, corns and some skin cancers. Active ingredient: ingenol mebutale.
The sap is toxic and should not be used internally.

‘Oh, wow,' said Molly out loud. Claudine glanced slyly back towards her. Molly had
got it wrong. The sap from spurge was used for removing things, not for nourishing.
Molly shuddered as she imagined what might have happened if Claudine hadn't knocked
it over. She squatted next to Claudine, who turned her head away huffily.

Molly patted her under her chin, just where she liked it. ‘Okay, Claudine. I'm sorry
for being mean. You were right. You even saved the day. And I will try to get you
some milk.'

It was some time before Molly set to work again on the green oil. First she began
reading her mama's books about plants. But she knew she was avoiding the oil because
she'd almost lost her nerve. And, even worse, she was waiting for Pim to show up.
Molly didn't like to admit this to herself, because she didn't like to feel she could
possibly be depending on Pim Wilder. She was the one who knew about plants, not Pim.
It wasn't as if he would know what to do. And even if he did make suggestions, it
wasn't his best friend who was ill, so he wouldn't put the right feeling into it.

And yet, Molly did like having someone to talk things over with, and she liked it
when Pim was there because he always had a way of seeing things that made her look
at them from another side. He was so different from Ellen. Ellen was like a nice
warm home: she was safe and sure and always the same. Pim was like a walk in the
woods at dusk: full of darkness and brightness both at
once, he was restless and
unfitting, pouncing on ideas and lifting them out of the dark. Pim's world was the
mysterious world of owls, stars, animals and earth. And Ellen's world was close by
and welcoming, a place you could burrow into.

Where did Molly's world fit alongside these? Was she betraying Ellen if she became
friends with Pim?

Her head spun. She went back to the green oil. She chopped and pummelled the weeds,
her mind full of wonder and resolve. She had a job to do and some thoughts to think.
It seemed that everything in her was expanding, straining to become large enough
to hold all that at once, all the worlds, weeds and wonder spinning within her.

And now it was already the afternoon. Molly would have to hurry if she wanted to
make it to Ellen's and back again before dark.

But where was Pim? Molly stifled a pang of worry. Had he got tired of helping her?
Had something else come along that was more
interesting? It couldn't have; nothing
could be more interesting. Perhaps he just didn't want to come anymore? What if this
was true? Would she be able to do this all on her own? Molly felt torn. She wanted
to help Ellen, but she wanted Pim to help her. Could she have both?

Right now she couldn't imagine life without either of them. But she had promised
herself she would be strong today. Today was not a day for her to get stuck in her
own fears. She would go to Ellen's now, and she would leave a note on the tree for
Pim, just in case he did come.

CHAPTER 20

Spaghetti

Ellen Palmer's mother was surprised to see Molly at the door again. Not only because
she wasn't expecting a visit, but also because this time she noticed that Molly looked
quite dishevelled. Her hair stood out from her head, and she had slept in her dress,
which was full of creases and covered in dirt and green blotchy stains from the juices
of the tree fruit. Molly clasped her mama's sunhat in one hand and in the other a
dark bottle with a white lid. Around her wrist was a red ribbon and she wore short
boots with no socks. None of
this Molly had taken any notice of. Her eyes were tired
and hopeful and almost glittered with an unnatural wakefulness, so that she had the
look of a worn-out traveller with an important message.

Molly was ushered into the kitchen, where Ellen's family sat eating spaghetti bolognese.
Ellen's father dabbed at his mouth with a napkin and said hello, and Ellen's younger
brother, Jeremy, stared at her, with his fork pointing upwards. There was Ellen's
world, cosy and just right. Molly could have just sunk down and curled up there,
if there wasn't an urgent task at hand.

Ellen's mother offered Molly some spaghetti.

Molly shook her head. ‘I have brought some special healing oil for Ellen. She has
to rub it on her chest and on the soles of her feet and also where the snake bit
her.'

Ellen's mother looked unsure, Jeremy smirked, and Ellen's dad frowned at Jeremy.

Molly wrinkled her nose back at Jeremy before stepping towards Ellen's mother. ‘My
mama has
cured many ailments with this oil,' Molly said. It was true that the green
oil had cured lots of illnesses, but Molly didn't know if it had any effect on snakebites.
She lifted her shoulders proudly and handed the bottle to Ellen's mother, who still
looked a little startled and confused, but she took the bottle with gratitude.

‘Thank you, Molly. Please thank your mother too. I have heard marvellous things about
her cures.' She glanced at her husband.

‘I'm sure it won't do any harm,' Ellen's father said with a small smile. Molly could
tell it was hard for him to smile. There was a very sombre tone to the whole family,
as if they had turned grey and old.

‘Would you like to take it in to Ellen? I'll see if she is awake.' Ellen's mother's
voice wavered and she quickly looked away.

Inside Ellen's room, a large floral armchair had been pulled up by the bed. Molly
perched on the edge of it.

‘Back again…' Ellen seemed grateful and a bit surprised.

‘I told you I'd be back, remember. Here, Ellen, look what I have. This potion will
make you better.'

‘A potion?' Ellen tried to sit up.

‘Yes. Don't be scared,' said Molly. ‘Mama knows about plants and how to make potions
from them. She makes people better.'

Ellen looked doubtful. She undid the bottle and sniffed at the oil. ‘Where do I rub
it?'

‘Here. And Ellen, it's best if you sing while you do it.'

‘Sing? Sing what?'

‘Doesn't matter what. Sing something cheerful and full of life. You're a great singer
and it makes you feel good, so do it. Can I go and tell your mum to bring you some
spaghetti?'

‘Hang on a minute.' Ellen propped herself up. ‘You never give me a chance to think.
You always rush into everything.'

Molly dropped her head; she was surprised. ‘Do I?'

‘Yes, but it's what I like about you. Sometimes your thoughts get to the finishing
line before I've even started, and I get stuck not moving. You pull me forwards.
I'll eat some spaghetti; I don't want you getting sad too.'

Molly grinned and stood up.

‘But I don't know why you didn't tell me about your mother's potions. I would have
loved to know about them,' said Ellen.

‘Maybe I was scared,' Molly said. ‘Maybe everyone has something they're scared of.
You are scared of snakes and crossing creeks on logs. But I'm scared that people
won't like me because…
well, because my family isn't like everyone else's. My mama
eats scrambled tofu, my dad is lost in Cuba, my brothers are far away flying hot
air balloons.' Molly still couldn't quite say that her mama had also accidentally
turned herself into a tree.

Ellen frowned. Her lip quivered. And then she closed her eyes to think. ‘But Molly,
I don't think you're different. Or if I do, it's exactly what I like about you. Sometimes
I feel that you think I'm not interesting. I thought you were bored with me. I thought
that was why you didn't let me come to your house when your mother was away.'