found him. But no-one called. We asked up and down the street, everywhere, but no-one had seen Matey.
That evening at supper, whilst everyone else was being sad about Matey, I couldn’t stop myself talking about the lady in black at Number 22. “She was weird, really weird,” I told them. “All in black, like that woman in the Addams family on the telly, in the cartoons – you know, that family of ghosts in the spooky house.”
“Black Queen,” my father said suddenly. “Her real name’s Mrs Blume, of course, but everyone round here calls her the Black Queen – that’s according to Mrs Watson next door. Loves to talk, does Mrs Watson. She told me all the gossip. Apparently that Mrs Blume hasn’t been there long, just rents the place. A bit snooty, Mrs Watson says, a bit stand-offish. Always dresses in black – big long coat, big black hat. Never talks to anyone. She goes out walking on the common, but only at night. You hardly ever see her out by day.”
“Like bats,” I quipped. “Like vampires, like witches. She’s got a black cat too. A witch! Maybe she’s a real witch.”
At that Rula began to cry all over again, into her baked beans. My mother eyed us both darkly as she tried to hug Rula better.
We both did our very best to put things right. “Don’t you worry, Roo,” my father said sheepishly. “Matey’ll be all right.”
“He’s just gone off to explore, probably,” I added. “He’ll be back tomorrow. You’ll see.” But neither of us really believed it and nor did Rula. She buried her head in my mother’s arms and sobbed her heart out.
Chapter 3
Rabbit Stew
BY LUNCHTIME THE next day there was still no sign of Matey. I was alone in the house. Everyone else was out. They had all gone shopping to cheer Rula up – Rula adores shopping. The chain had come off my bike again, and I was trying to mend it out in the garden, when I heard a voice.
“Hey, you! Hey, kid!” It was her! Mrs Blume! The Black Queen! She was peering over the fence at me in her floppy black hat, and smiling. Then, like a magician, she produced a rabbit – Matey – holding him up by the scruff of his neck and dangling him over the fence at me. “This your bunny rabbit?” she asked. “You want him?”
I was just tall enough to reach up and take him. “Where d’you find him?” I asked, cradling Matey in my arms.
“He was just sitting there in the grass. Rambo was eyeballing him. I reckon he was freaking him out, hypnotizing him. Hey, don’t worry. No harm done. He’s fine, just fine.”
“Thanks,” I said, setting Matey down on the grass. “Thanks a lot.”
“I’m telling you, that’s one fine rabbit you’ve got there. You take good care of him, you hear me. You don’t want him ending up as rabbit stew, do you?”
And I heard her chuckling as she walked away, rustling through the long grass as she went. It was odd. I had met her twice now, and I still had no idea what she really looked like under that great floppy hat. She had long black hair – I had noticed that much. But why did she wear that hat inside the house as well as outside? And why was she always dressed in black as if she’d just been to a funeral?
By the time everyone came back I was sitting on the sofa with Matey lying beside me, his legs in the air – he loved having his tummy tickled. Rula hugged Matey half to death, and then she did the same to me. I told them it was the Black Queen who had found him, not me, but Rula kept on kissing me and hugging me and telling me I was the best brother ever, and at tea I got a double helping of ice-cream. It was good being a hero. I enjoyed it.
Later Rula was upstairs shrieking with joy in her bath. We all thought Matey was safely shut up in his hutch. I was filling in the hole under the fence – my mother’s idea – so that Matey couldn’t escape again. I don’t know what made me look. Just plain curiosity, I suppose. I scrambled up the fence and peered over into the Black
That evening at supper, whilst everyone else was being sad about Matey, I couldn’t stop myself talking about the lady in black at Number 22. “She was weird, really weird,” I told them. “All in black, like that woman in the Addams family on the telly, in the cartoons – you know, that family of ghosts in the spooky house.”
“Black Queen,” my father said suddenly. “Her real name’s Mrs Blume, of course, but everyone round here calls her the Black Queen – that’s according to Mrs Watson next door. Loves to talk, does Mrs Watson. She told me all the gossip. Apparently that Mrs Blume hasn’t been there long, just rents the place. A bit snooty, Mrs Watson says, a bit stand-offish. Always dresses in black – big long coat, big black hat. Never talks to anyone. She goes out walking on the common, but only at night. You hardly ever see her out by day.”
“Like bats,” I quipped. “Like vampires, like witches. She’s got a black cat too. A witch! Maybe she’s a real witch.”
At that Rula began to cry all over again, into her baked beans. My mother eyed us both darkly as she tried to hug Rula better.
We both did our very best to put things right. “Don’t you worry, Roo,” my father said sheepishly. “Matey’ll be all right.”
“He’s just gone off to explore, probably,” I added. “He’ll be back tomorrow. You’ll see.” But neither of us really believed it and nor did Rula. She buried her head in my mother’s arms and sobbed her heart out.
Chapter 3
Rabbit Stew
BY LUNCHTIME THE next day there was still no sign of Matey. I was alone in the house. Everyone else was out. They had all gone shopping to cheer Rula up – Rula adores shopping. The chain had come off my bike again, and I was trying to mend it out in the garden, when I heard a voice.
“Hey, you! Hey, kid!” It was her! Mrs Blume! The Black Queen! She was peering over the fence at me in her floppy black hat, and smiling. Then, like a magician, she produced a rabbit – Matey – holding him up by the scruff of his neck and dangling him over the fence at me. “This your bunny rabbit?” she asked. “You want him?”
I was just tall enough to reach up and take him. “Where d’you find him?” I asked, cradling Matey in my arms.
“He was just sitting there in the grass. Rambo was eyeballing him. I reckon he was freaking him out, hypnotizing him. Hey, don’t worry. No harm done. He’s fine, just fine.”
“Thanks,” I said, setting Matey down on the grass. “Thanks a lot.”
“I’m telling you, that’s one fine rabbit you’ve got there. You take good care of him, you hear me. You don’t want him ending up as rabbit stew, do you?”
And I heard her chuckling as she walked away, rustling through the long grass as she went. It was odd. I had met her twice now, and I still had no idea what she really looked like under that great floppy hat. She had long black hair – I had noticed that much. But why did she wear that hat inside the house as well as outside? And why was she always dressed in black as if she’d just been to a funeral?
By the time everyone came back I was sitting on the sofa with Matey lying beside me, his legs in the air – he loved having his tummy tickled. Rula hugged Matey half to death, and then she did the same to me. I told them it was the Black Queen who had found him, not me, but Rula kept on kissing me and hugging me and telling me I was the best brother ever, and at tea I got a double helping of ice-cream. It was good being a hero. I enjoyed it.
Later Rula was upstairs shrieking with joy in her bath. We all thought Matey was safely shut up in his hutch. I was filling in the hole under the fence – my mother’s idea – so that Matey couldn’t escape again. I don’t know what made me look. Just plain curiosity, I suppose. I scrambled up the fence and peered over into the Black
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