Bedtime Stories
A prequel to Hollow Pike by James Dawson
Laura waited in bed for her father to come and read a story. Flat on her back, she watched
the shadows from her nightlight dance across the ceiling. The unicorn took centre stage,
before swelling and fading at the edge of the wall to make way for the princess. That meant
her favourite was up next ... the witch. There she was, riding her broom, wearing her
pointed hat. The princess, unicorn and dragon were all very nice, but witches were cool –
like properly evil. Casting spells, turning naughty boys into frogs … she’d like to see a
princess do that!
Her father finally entered, his tie hanging in a loose knot around his neck. He was all
stubbly and tired-looking. ‘What’s it going to be tonight?’ he asked, scanning the row of
picture books on the shelf. ‘Bit of The Gruffalo? Or what about Shark in the Park?’
‘No, I want the witch story!’
‘Again? Really? Can’t we have a break from that one?’
‘No! It’s my favourite.’ Laura begged, making little prayer hands.
‘Oh, OK then, anything for an easy life.’ He sat on the edge of the bed, and Laura
scooted over to make room. He didn’t need a book for this one; he knew the story off by
heart. He must be the cleverest dad in Hollow Pike.
‘Long version or short version?’
‘Daddy, the long version! You promised!’
He smiled and brushed the heavy brown fringe out of her eyes. ‘OK. Are you ready?
Once upon a time there were three little boys—’
‘Brothers. Three little brothers.’
‘Who’s telling this story? You or me?’ he grinned.
Laura giggled and mimed zipping her lips together.
‘Once upon a time there were three little brothers and they all lived on the edge of
the copse in Hollow Pike. They were very, very poor and didn’t have a lot of money or food,
so one day their mummy sent them into the copse to look for something to eat.
It was getting late, and the woods were dark and cold, but the boys were really
hungry so they went further into the trees than they should. They didn’t listen to their
mummy who told them to stay at the edge of the copse. No, they went all the way into the
heart of the forest.’
Laura drew the blanket up under her nose.
‘Soon, it was night time and the boys were horribly lost in the dark woods. The
youngest brother, the littlest one, started to cry. But the oldest brother saw something
twinkling through the trees – there was a fire burning and a chimney smoking in the
distance. In the middle of the forest, there must be a little house, hidden away.
Scared and tired, the three brothers approached the house and knocked on the
door. There was no answer. They were very cold, and it was very dark, so the oldest brother
just opened the door and went inside! Do you know what they saw in the little house? Food,
and lots of it – more than they had ever seen in their lives! Chicken and chips and burgers
and cheesecake ... all of Laura’s favourites!’ He tickled her tummy and she squirmed under
the blankets.
‘What happened next?’
‘Can you believe it, the brothers just helped themselves? They were so hungry, they
forgot all their manners! They ate and ate, and gobbled and gobbled until there was nothing
left. In fact, they were so full that they lay down by the roaring fire and were soon fast
asleep.’
Laura smiled in anticipation of the best bit.
‘Who knows for how long they slept, but when they woke up, the brothers found
themselves in a cage made of bones! They heard a voice say, “Steal my food, will you? Come
into my house uninvited, will you?” and they saw a beautiful woman with flowing blonde
hair. She looked like an angel but with fire in her eyes ...’
‘The witch!’
‘Yes! Not all witches are green and warty – this one was beautiful, but very, very
evil. By the fire, the boys could see a mighty cooking pot bubbling away. She was making
little boy soup for dinner!
“Mmm,” said the witch as she licked her lips. “Which one shall I boil first?”
The oldest brother was the biggest and the strongest one of the three, so he
wrapped his hands around the cage and pulled and pulled until the bones cracked. He
smashed his way across the little house and ran out through the wooden door into the dark
forest beyond.
“Thinks he’s strong, does he? Strong like the mightiest of oaks ...” the witch said and
waved her magic feather.
The oldest brother hadn’t got very far when he felt something wrap around his
ankle. A thick brown tree root had reached up out of the earth and grabbed his leg. And
another ... then another! Soon roots were wrapped all around him, dragging him into the
soil. He screamed and screamed, and sank deeper and deeper, until only the top of his body
was free. As he called for help, he could feel his arms and fingers getting longer and stiffer,
and slowly his skin became rough and hard like wood. He grew taller and taller until he
wasn’t a boy at all. To this day, if you ever see a tree trunk that looks a bit like a face ... who
knows, perhaps it’s the oldest brother.
Meanwhile, back in the witch’s house, the middle brother knew that he was the
fastest. As quick as a flash, he darted out of the hole in the cage and shot out of the door.
He was soon deep into the copse, running as fast as he could.
“Thinks he’s fast, does he?” said the witch. “As light as the breeze on a wing ...” She
gave another flick of her magic feather.
He was so fast that the middle brother was nearly at the edge of the forest when he
suddenly felt faster than he had ever felt before. So light on his feet, in fact, that he found
he’d left the ground entirely. But what feet? Looking down, he saw only long, stony talons
where his feet had been. His body was covered in thick, black feathers – and when he tried
to call for help, nothing came out but a terrible caw. To this very day, if you see a crow
watching you with a knowing, keen eye ... just think, perhaps it’s the middle brother.
The youngest brother was still trapped in the witch’s house. But even though he was
the youngest, he was also the cleverest brother. He had heard the cries of his brothers and
knew that being strong and fast wasn’t going to save his bacon. No. Instead, he watched and
waited as the witch stirred the vegetables into her cooking pot. It was late, and it was warm
in the heat of the fire. Very gently, in his most delicate voice, the youngest brother started
to sing a song. Not just any song, but the lullaby his mother sang to him every night before
bed.
“What’s that song?” the witch demanded.
“Do you like it?” said the little boy. “It’s my favourite.”
The witch agreed and was soon humming along. In no time at all, she felt her pretty
eyelids get heavier and heavier and, no matter how hard she tried to stay awake, she found
herself getting very sleepy. The lullaby gave her such sweet dreams that she was soon sound
asleep.
When she started to snore, the youngest brother crept out of the cage and slipped
into the forest on tiptoes. He found the path and started running. He ran and ran and ran
until he arrived back home where his mother was waiting for him with a big hug. He never
went into the copse again, and although the witch searched high and low for the clever little
boy who had tricked her, she never found him. The end!’
Laura clapped her hands together. ‘They all lived happily ever after!’
‘Yes! Well, except the two brothers that didn’t make it!’
‘Yeah, but they were the silly brothers.’
Laura made sure her rabbit, panda and monster thingy could all see over the top of
the blanket. ‘Daddy? Witches aren’t really real in real life are they?’
Her dad laughed. ‘No! Not ones like that anyway. There were witches once ... but
they didn't have magic feathers!’
‘Harry in my class says there is no such thing.’
Her dad rolled his eyes. ‘Harry’s wrong, I’m afraid. A long, long time ago, people did
think there were witches in Hollow Pike.’
Laura sat up in bed, excited by this new twist. ‘Really? In Hollow Pike?’
‘Yep! Right here in the copse!’
‘What happened? Are they still there?’
‘No. Like I said, that was hundreds and hundreds of years ago, even before Daddy
was born. No witches now. All gone.’
‘But where did they go?’
Her dad shrugged. ‘I dunno, sweetheart. They were doing bad things, so they had to
be punished.’
‘In jail?’
‘Yeah, something like that. Either way, there’s nothing for you to worry about.
Maybe when you’re a bit older we can go to the history museum in Fulton and I’ll show
you.’
‘Promise?’
‘Yes! Right. It’s lights out time for you, missy!’
‘But wait!’ Laura cried. ‘What about vampires! Are they real too?’
‘No!’
‘And Frankensteins?’
‘I see where this is heading – you must think I was born yesterday. Off to sleep,
young lady. Now!’
Laura pouted, but knew when the argument was pointless. She lay back down.
‘Night, night, daddy.’
‘Sweet dreams, princess.’ He gave her a kiss on the forehead before switching the
night-light off.
As soon as the door closed, Laura knew something was wrong. The bedroom was too
light. Sure enough, looking at her window, Laura saw her dad had accidentally left a two
inch gap between the curtains. Oh, no! Now, if anything evil crawled up to her window
ledge, it’d be able to watch her sleeping. Even through the narrow gap, she could make out
the silhouettes of tree fingers fidgeting in the moonlight. She wouldn’t be able to sleep
unless she closed the curtains.
As always, Laura swung her legs far out into the room ,just in case there was
anything waiting under the bed to grab her feet. She scurried over to the window and
sneaked a look into the night. It all seemed calm. There was nothing on her window ledge at
present, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
In the summer, her mum and dad left her window open a bit, but something told her
to close it anyway, just in case. As her hand rested on the window frame, she looked out
over Hollow Pike. The gentle green hills stretched for as far as she could see, with cars
moving like fireflies in a trail down the bypass in the distance.
At this time of night, Pike Copse was a furry black blanket covering the landscape.
But even though the copse didn’t look like trees, Laura could hear the wind-tossed leaves
from her window. She could also hear the busy stream rushing to meet the river. And if she
listened really, really hard, she was certain she could just make out a sweet, gentle sound,
something light and airy, almost not there at all.
She heard a little boy ... a little boy singing a lullaby.
Hollow Pike is available in paperback and eBook format from Indigo (Orion UK)
Bedtime Stories and Hollow Pike copyright © James Dawson 2012
James Dawson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
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