Page 61 of Short Stack 3

The sound of a beloved voice brings me to my senses, and I round the corner of the house, where I find Cosmo. He’s standing on the lawn, his hands on his hips. He’s wearing faded jeans that cling to his long legs and the blue polo shirt with our logo that all the tour guides wear, which makes his olive skin glow. He has an unusually stern look on his face.

“Now, please,” he says.

I look up to see a small brown monkey sitting on a windowsill and holding a punnet of satsumas. It looks identical to the bronze statue that is usually found on the table in the hallway. Even as I watch, it picks up an orange and holds it in its hand, obviously weighing up the situation.

“No,” Cosmo says, wagging his finger. “I forbid it.”

The monkey opens its mouth and launches into what sounds very much like monkey laughter. Then we both duck as it hurls the orange at us. I look up to see it stand on the windowsill, jumping up and down before climbing down the drainpipe and rushing off.

“Cosmo,” I call, and he turns around, an agitated grimace on his face.

“Barnaby, have you seen?—”

“Complete and utter chaos?” I finish his sentence. “Oh, I’ve seen it.”

He races over to me. His hair is flopping over his forehead, and his face is sweaty. “Oh my goodness, this is rather an unusual situation that we find ourselves in.”

“I’ll say.” I pull him to one side as a pink horse gallops by, shaking its green mane. It looks suspiciously like one of the horses from the merry-go-round on the main lawn.

“Mildred,” Cosmo shouts in a thunderous voice after the horse. “What has become of your dignity and sense of duty?”

“I think it vanished at the same time as seventy thousand magical creatures appeared,” I say as we watch the horse disappear around the corner of the house. “What is going on?”

Cosmo looks adorably embarrassed. “I think my magic has gone a teeny bit wrong, my Barnaby.”

I shake my head and pull him into a hug. He immediately returns the embrace, clutching me tight in his strong arms. I kiss his head, inhaling the scent of my shampoo in his hair, and then gently put him back.

“It was something to do with the Wishing Tree, wasn’t it?”

He nods enthusiastically. “Yes. Oh dear. I only thought to make the last day of our Christmas celebration very memorable.”

“Well, it’s certainly that. On a side note, you may have set expectationsratherhigh for the visitors next year. But that’s a problem for another day.”

He scratches his head. “I am not entirely sure what occurred.”

“I saw the tree when the magic happened. What did you do?”

“Ah, every day, I have seen the young and old place their wishes on the tree. I thought to do something nice for them.”

“Lovey, I’m not cross with you,” I say.

He immediately relaxes. “You are not?”

“How could I be? You’re too adorable.” I shake my head. “So, what did you do?”

“I made it so that their dreams would come true.”

I consider that as we step out of the way of an army of Lego figures marching along the path, followed by a horde of excited children. “Dreams or wishes?” I ask.

He spreads his hands. “Ah, there is the rub. I believe my magic took the command literally.”

“And you’ve madedreamscome true,” I breathe.

He nods, his face screwed up in thought. “Exactly.”

“Well, that’s good news for Derek, aged forty-two. Less so for Scarlett Johansson.”

“Who?”

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