Mr Mahli's Shed Read online

  TB’s mum called up the stairs on Sunday morning, ‘Tomos, Mr Mahli’s here for you!’ and TB came sleepily down the stairs, rubbing his eyes.

  ‘Hiya Mr M,’ he yawned.

  ‘Thanks Mrs Brown, I just need TB’s help with something in the garden if he’s free?’ Mr Mahli smiled.

  ‘Of course, no problem. Hey, my mum called by the way. She’s ever so pleased with her new bridge partner,’ she nudged Mr Mahli playfully. ‘I’m sure she’d appreciate a call sometime.’

  ‘Oh, lovely!’ Mr Mahli blushed and looked suddenly awkward as TB’s mum headed off into the kitchen humming to herself.

  Mr Mahli turned to TB. ‘Get dressed TB. We’ve got to do something about Dylan,’ he said. And then he lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘He’s fading. I don’t think we’ll have him around much longer.’

  TB didn’t need to be told twice. He was dressed and in the shed before Mr Mahli had even returned from knocking on Alys’ door. TB squinted in the dim light of the shed.

  ‘You still here Dylan?’ he called. His voice sounded much louder than necessary for the size of the shed. A thin murmur came back at him, and as TB’s eyes adjusted to the light he saw a faint outline of a man, a desk and an old chair.

  ‘Woah Dylan!’ exclaimed TB. ‘What’s happening to you? I can hardly see you! And I was getting so pro at seeing you.’

  He was surprised to hear the reply of a stronger voice: ‘I’m still here lad. Just a bit tired, you know.’ And surprisingly his outline seemed to strengthen a little.

  Alys and Mr Mahli entered the shed at that moment and closed the door behind them. ‘What is this?’ asked a weak Dylan, ‘the cavalry?’ Mr Mahli laughed but Alys and TB just frowned.

  ‘What can we do Dylan?’ TB asked. ‘How can we help you?’

  ‘Take me out would you? Too many years in the same place … I have sores on my brain.’

  Mr Mahli suddenly looked sad and Alys reached out to touch his arm.

  ‘It’s OK, Mr M,’ she said. ‘We’ll take him, won’t we TB? Hang on Dylan, we’ll come for you tomorrow and take you back to school.’ TB started to protest but a look from Alys silenced him.

  ‘It’s where he seemed the most alive,’ she stated, and TB had to agree.

  Twenty

  A Welshman’s Home is His Shed

  Alys only remembered about the school trip when the children arrived at school the next day with Dylan in TB’s backpack.

  ‘Oh, pants!’ she exclaimed, as she saw the bus spluttering beside the gates. ‘Totally forgot we’re off to the Space Centre today!’

  TB groaned and pulled his backpack up to his lips.

  ‘Don’t worry Dylan,’ he whispered, ‘we’ll set you up tidy in the cupboard and then…’

  ‘No boy,’ came a voice for the bag, ‘take me with you.’ The children looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Then Alys shrugged.

  ‘It’s by the sea,’ she said. ‘It might do him good.’

  It wasn’t until they were standing in the queue to enter the Space Centre that TB felt Dylan start to move. ‘Keep still!’ he urged through gritted teeth. But the backpack was jilting about pretty wildly now and TB had to jump about himself to hide it.

  ‘Keep still, Tomos,’ called Mrs Best as she went past counting heads. As the line of children began to move towards the entrance TB grabbed Alys’ hand and pulled her out of the line behind a thick pillar. The rest of the class were chatting excitedly and didn’t notice the two friends creep away from the Space Centre towards the wood at the edge of the car park.

  ‘Woah TB! We’re going to get in mahooosive trouble!’ exclaimed Alys with a huge grin on her face.

  ‘Yeah I know,’ replied TB, ‘but I couldn’t go in there with Dylan jumping about.’ As he heard his name, Dylan pushed at the drawstring and poked his ghostly head out of the bag.

  ‘That’s better!’ he said. ‘Where are we going then?’

  The children traipsed through the dank wood next to the centre, enjoying the smells and the quiet and the feeling that they were great explorers, as Dylan chatted merrily in the bag. He seemed so much better out of the shed that Alys and TB started to wonder if he wasn’t putting it on all along, just to get them to take him back to Mrs Best. But it wasn’t being close to Mrs Best that had cheered Dylan up this time. He was outside, he was somewhere new, he could smell the ocean.

  ‘Wow! Check this out!’ called Alys as she rounded a large oak tree. TB followed behind her and saw that they’d emerged out of the other side of the wood, on to a cliff. The sea stretched out below them and sea birds swooped and laughed in the wind. The air smelt beautifully fresh and the friends stood in silence for a minute just breathing it in.

  ‘What do you think, Dylan?’ asked TB, holding the backpack up in front of him. But Dylan didn’t reply. He stared wistfully at the open view in front of him. TB noticed his eyes were glassy and when he blinked, a tiny bit of moisture seemed to stick on his eyelashes.

  Alys had been looking around.

  ‘You have to come and see this, TB and Dylan, you are so gonna love this!’ She led them back the way she had come, tripping and stumbling over roots and branches in her hurry. After a minute she suddenly stopped.

  ‘Ta-dah!’ she cried, stretching her arms in the air. TB looked around.

  ‘What Al? What you on about?’

  ‘I found it!’ she replied, ‘it’s just the perfect place for Dylan!’ Alys turned and began to tug at the branches behind her. It was then that TB saw that the leaves were covering a wooden structure with a moss-covered corrugated iron roof.

  ‘I squeezed around the front to get a better look,’ Alys said breathlessly, ‘and there’s a window that looks out to the sea! No one’s been in here for years, it’s perfect, so secret!’

  As Dylan watched from the bag on the floor, Alys and TB pulled at the ivy that was covering the door and prised at the wood with their fingers.

  ‘We are such shed-breaking experts now, Al,’ stated TB as the door swung open. Inside the shed was full of weeds and old pots. A couple of cardboard boxes had rotted away and their contents spilled messily onto the floor.

  Dylan smiled. ‘Get me in then. We’ll have this shipshape in no time.’

  After an hour of hard work Alys and TB stood back and looked at the shed. Dylan had already begun his magic and they could see the outlines of his desk, chair and bookcase slowly materialising. Dylan himself was becoming more solid by the minute.

  ‘This is it, kids. This is it.’ He rubbed his palms together as he stared out of his new window at the glistening sea and the darkening clouds.

  The children stared at his round face, lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning and smiled. TB nudged Alys. ‘Look!’ he nodded towards Dylan’s hand. A pen was appearing between his fingers and a little leather-bound book became visible on the desk, next to his other hand.

  ‘Dylan, are you going to write something?’ Alys asked, quickly startling Dylan out of his far-away thoughts. He looked down in surprise at the pen in his hand.

  ‘Well, yes. It looks like I am!’ and his accompanying chuckle was so loud and so rich that the children couldn’t help joining in. He turned to look at them then. ‘I remember now kids. It’s the stories and the words that I need and here, in this wild, golden place, they’re coming back to me. I can feel them bubbling up in here,’ he thumped his fist on his belly. ‘You can leave me here happy, Prince Tomo and Princess Alys, I know what I have to do now.’

  Suddenly Dylan laughed, as a longhaired ginger cat pushed her way in through the door at that moment. He held out his arms almost as though he were expecting her.

  The cat purred and wound her way around Dylan’s legs. He sighed and nodded at the children.

  ‘You see, I won’t be lonely. I have this cat and the sea is always changing, and children will visit the beach down there in summer too. I’m going to be fine.

  ‘You two had better get going. Mrs Best doesn’t deserve all the worry,’
he added softly.

  Alys and TB picked up their bags from the floor.

  ‘Bye then, Dylan. I think you’ll be happy here,’ Alys smiled. TB just held up a hand in a silent salute and turned to go.

  Just as they opened the door, Dylan called out, ‘TB, Tomos lad, come here. You too, Alys,’ and the children ran back towards the shimmering man as fast as they could. He held out his not-arms and TB and Alys fell into them. The strangest sensation overcame the children at that moment; they suddenly felt a warmth coming from Dylan, and his arms felt briefly solid. Then, as quickly as it had come, the feeling disappeared and Alys and TB let go of their ghostly friend and backed towards the door.

  ‘Say so long to Mr Mahli for me won’t you?’ asked Dylan.

  ‘Course. We’ll tell him where to find you, he can come and visit,’ said TB shakily.

  ‘Tell him thanks for everything, OK?’ The children nodded, then they left before they could start to cry and were running back through the trees so quickly they didn’t hear the sob of a grown man in the woods behind them, or the gentle meow of a cat.

  Twenty-one

  Mr Mahli’s Shed

  Mr Mahli listened quietly to the children’s story that evening. He couldn’t believe no one had noticed they were missing from the Space Centre, and thought it was a real stroke of luck that Mrs Best had let the class have a little play in the woods before they got back on the bus, so TB and Alys had managed to re-join them without anyone noticing.

  He looked a little sad when they told him about Dylan’s new home, but smiled at them kindly and told them they had done the right thing. Alys tried to describe the look of happiness on Dylan’s face, his joy at the idea of writing by the sea and his delight when the ginger cat turned up, and Mr Mahli had cleared his throat squeakily and said he understood. And he had understood, because happiness is everything, and Dylan was his friend.

  The days after that became cooler as the winter began to settle in to Swansea. TB and Alys found themselves visiting Mr Mahli’s garden less and less as the nights came in earlier and rain arrived like an unwanted visitor almost daily.

  One night Alys’ parents were going down The Chattery to see a band and asked if Alys could stay over at TB’s house. Alys had settled down in the spare room but was woken up in the middle of the night by a very strange noise. Spooked, she ran into TB’s room and shook him awake.

  ‘TB! Wake up you muppet, can’t you hear that noise?’ she whispered loudly. TB jerked awake and sat bolt upright in bed.

  ‘Al? You scared me to death! What are you doing?’

  ‘Come and look at this,’ said Alys, her voice strangely far away in the darkness. TB climbed out of bed and padded across the landing to the spare room at the front of the house.

  The light was coming from the back of Mr Mahli’s house. And it wasn’t just green. Purple and orange lights sparkled and shimmered against the dark sky. The noise Alys had heard was getting slightly louder now; it was a sort of whirring and humming and seemed to be coming from the same place as the lights.

  ‘What’s Mr Mahli up to this time?’ TB mused. ‘Come on Alys, let’s check it out.’

  They wrapped up in dressing gowns and slippers and crept past TB’s parents’ room like the ninjas they were.

  As they crossed the street the sound got louder and the lights became brighter. Alys and TB didn’t bother knocking on the front door but slipped around the side of the house to the back garden. TB was in front and stopped abruptly as he reached the garden so Alys bashed straight into his back.

  ‘Oof! Thanks, TB,’ she moaned. ‘Could’ve warned me!’ But then she stopped and looked over at Mr Mahli’s shed; a look of sheer amazement on her face.

  The shed was glowing with all sorts of coloured lights, but the brightest of these was coming from the bottom, which was hovering about a foot off the ground. The whirring sound seemed to be coming from a propeller that the children could see underneath the shed and something was popping and causing little puffs of smoke to surround it. Peering closely, the children could see Mr Mahli in the shed window. Just as he spotted them and started to wave, the strangest thing of all happened: the shed began to rise. Slowly at first, it wobbled and hesitated before gaining a surge of power and bolting straight up into the night sky. Mr Mahli waved down at the children who slowly lifted their hands and waved back at him.

  It was so quiet after the shed finally disappeared above the clouds. The garden seemed eerily empty and the children realised they’d been holding their breath and suddenly shivered with the cold. Alys and TB didn’t say a word as they turned to TB’s house and headed back to bed, but their dreams that night were full of Mr Mahli’s stories; of pirates and time travel; of ghosts and fireworks. And where other people would just see sheds, they knew they would always see magic.

  Epilogue

  Four weeks went by before the children saw Mr Mahli again. They had looked out for him and whizzed around the back of his house several times looking for the shed. But the house was still and the garden quiet and Mr Mahli seemed well and truly gone.

  It was a cold but sunny Saturday when TB’s nan popped round.

  ‘Hiya Tom bach, I’m just dropping off this cake for you then I’m heading over … um…’

  She wandered into the kitchen with a large tin-foiled cake and returned a second later re-wrapping the cake, which was now half the size. TB frowned.

  ‘Nan, you’ve either got the biggest appetite in South Wales today or you’re taking half my cake somewhere else.’

  ‘It’s not your cake Tomos Brown. And this bit’s for your old friend Mr Mahli so stop complaining,’ Nan retorted.

  ‘Oh, but he’s gone,’ TB said. ‘We haven’t seen him for weeks. Didn’t Mum say? We think he might have gone back to … India.’ TB expected Nan to pull a sad expression but she laughed.

  ‘TB, he’s home! He sent me an Instagram picture. Look.’ She proudly held up her phone for TB to see a picture of a table with a wooden board with little circles on it.

  ‘What’s that?’ TB asked.

  ‘Backgammon,’ Nan replied. ‘It’s a game. He’s invited me over for a game so I’m taking the cake and I’m going over. Is that OK?’ Nan didn’t wait for a reply. She shouted a ‘Cheerio’ to TB’s mum, ruffled TB’s hair and started for the door. TB stood, frozen to the spot for a second, then spurted out of the house after Nan. They were astonished to see Mr Mahli open up his front door to her with a cheery smile and invite her in!

  TB was desperate to confront Mr Mahli and ask him a ton of questions but he couldn’t in front of Nan so he darted round to Alys’ house instead and the pair of them crept around the back to look at the shed.

  It was strange to see it sitting there so innocently. There was no sign of Dylan and no sign of lights or smoke. It was just a shed.

  TB helped Alys up onto his shoulders so she could look in through the smeary window but she reported down that it was still empty. Everything looked just the same except…

  ‘Hang on,’ Alys whispered ‘don’t put me down yet. What’s that?’

  TB didn’t know. He couldn’t see. But it sounded to him – and it sounds to me – like the start of a new adventure.

  What do you think?

  First published in 2014

  by Firefly Press

  25 Gabalfa Road, Llandaff North, Cardiff, CF14 2JJ

  www.fireflypress.co.uk

  Text © Laura Sheldon 2014

  Illustrations © Huw Aaron 2014

  Laura Sheldon and Huw Aaron assert their moral rights to be identified as the author and illustrator in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act, 1988.

  All rights reserved.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form, binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed
on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library.

  Print ISBN: 978-1-910080-17-7

  Epub ISBN: 978-1-910080-16-0

  This book has been published with the support of the Welsh Books Council.

  Typeset by: Elaine Sharples

  Cover design by [email protected]

  Dragonfly series design by Laura Fern Baker

  Come to our website to read an extract from ‘Fern Hill’ by Dylan Thomas and for Dylan related lesson plans and games. www.fireflypress.co.uk/dragonfly