Perry Angel's Suitcase
Author: Glenda Millard
Date: 2008-01-02 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Young Adult; Childrens; Australia; Family; Fiction
Description: The third instalment in the award-winning KINGDOM OF SILK series. It has taken Perry Angel almost seven years to find the place where he belongs. He arrives at the Kingdom of Silk one day on the ten-thirty express, carrying only a small and shabby suitcase embossed with five golden letters. What do those letters mean? And why won't Perry let go of his case? this is a gentle and moving story about finding your place in the world - and there could be no better place than with Griffin Silk, his family and his best friend, Layla. Following on from the success of the Naming of tishkin Silk and Layl
Publisher: ABC Books
Rights: Copyright © Glenda Millard 2008

Dedication

For Callum James

—G.M.

For Lily, Grace, Violet and Quinn

—S.M.K.

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

1. A Small and Shabby Suitcase

2. Names and Nests

3. Christmas Beetles and Red Balloons

4. Angel Wings and Raspberry Spiders

5. The Best Thing about Saturday

6. The Colour of Heaven

7. Madonna and the Promise

8. The Carpenter and the Egg

9. Eleven Letterboxes

10. Castaway

11. Of Cake and Thankfulness

Some little-known facts about Glenda Millard

A little-known fact about Stephen Michael King

Other Books by Glenda Millard

Copyright

1. A Small and Shabby Suitcase

Griffin came into the Silk family after the Rainbow Girls — Scarlet, Indigo, Violet, Amber and Saffron — and before Tishkin. And then came Layla who was not born a Silk, but was sent to comfort them after Tishkin went away.

Perry Angel came last of all. He arrived on the ten-thirty express with a small and shabby suitcase embossed with five golden letters. It had taken him almost seven years to find the Kingdom of Silk.

When Layla first learned of Perry’s coming, she imagined all the things she and Griffin, her best friend in the entire universe, would show him. There was Ginger the goose and Fred the gander and their gaggle of downy grey goslings, and the tree house in the Cox’s Orange Pippin. They would teach Perry how to catch yabbies in the dam with a pair of pantyhose and a wire coathanger. He could help them raise the rag sail on the raft that Griffin’s daddy, Ben, had made and they’d go adventuring on the dam until the sky was the colour of Nell’s quince jelly. Then they would return again to the Kingdom of Silk where they would tell tales of their daring and courage around the hiss and spit of a campfire; Layla and Griffin and Perry.

But two days before Perry was to arrive in Cameron’s Creek, Layla overheard a conversation that made her wonder if his coming might change the Kingdom of Silk forever. The voices came to her seconds before sleep took her down into the velvet dark.

‘I don’t believe it!’ her mother exclaimed, tugging Layla back from the brink of the deep blue.

‘That old house must already be bursting at the seams with nine of them living there. Why on earth would they want another one? Imagine the extra work, the laundry, the cooking, let alone the expense! I’ve got my hands full with only two kids, but seven … My stars, what are they thinking of? Where will they all sleep? Didn’t Layla say Griffin already sleeps on the veranda?’

Then her daddy’s voice came, steady and soothing, letting Layla slide down deeper, closer to not hearing, not knowing.

‘It’s a sleep-out, dear, you know, when part of the veranda is enclosed to make an extra room. Your mother had one, surely you haven’t forgotten?’

‘You know, Anthony, the welfare people have strict rules. I’m surprised they would allow a child to go there.’

Suddenly Layla was wide awake.

‘Now, Caroline, don’t say something you’ll regret later. I won’t hear a word against the Silks!’

Layla couldn’t remember ever having heard her daddy sound so stern, at least not to her mother.

‘They might be a bit unusual, but they’re wonderful people and you know it!’ His voice went back to normal then, as though he had surprised even himself. ‘Of course you’re right about Welfare, Caro, they do have their rules and regulations, so they wouldn’t be letting the boy go there if the Silks weren’t suitable.’

In the quietness that followed, Layla tried to imagine what was happening on the other side of her bedroom wall. Probably Daddy would be giving Mum a big cuddle. Daddy had great faith in the power of a cuddle.

‘Nothing beats a cuddle, chicken,’ he’d tell Layla, ‘it works like a charm, every time.’

When her mother spoke again, her voice had lost its sharp corners and Layla felt peaceful inside. She wasn’t prepared for what came next.

‘I suppose you’re right. Anyway, I should be pleased; with another addition to the family the Silks probably won’t have as much time for Layla. Maybe we’ll see her a bit more often.’

When Layla opened her eyes it was Friday, her favourite day of the week. And on top of that it was the last day of school before the holidays. But the first thing she thought about was the conversation she had overheard the night before. Layla pulled the blankets over her head and wished it had been a dream. She felt cross about these unknown welfare people and their rules. Was there a rule against live-in grandmas like Nell, who still played dress-ups now and then, and put magic spells in the stew to make the meat tender? Would they make Ben buy supermarket bread to feed Perry instead of making his own in the outside oven? What if they told Griffin’s mum, Annie, that Perry could only drink milk that came from plastic bottles instead of serving it fresh and warm from Delilah and Jezebel? Did they have a rule about children wearing shoes all the time and not just to school? And what if they made the Silks go to church every Sunday instead of being thankful when they were kneeling in the vegetable patch doing the weeding or collecting eggs in the chook run, or singing ‘What a Wonderful World’ while they spread goats’ poo around the pumpkins? It would be dreadful if the welfare people turned the Silks into boring everyday kind of people. If that was going to be the way of things, Layla wished with all her heart they had never asked this boy called Perry to come to the Kingdom of Silk.

Layla was still grumpy at breakfast time and to make things worse, her cereal had gone soggy.

Then her mother said, ‘Stop dawdling, Layla! And why haven’t you got your shoes on?’

‘Who makes the rules in this family?’ Layla asked.

‘Which rules?’ shouted Mrs Elliott above the hum of the vacuum cleaner.

‘The rules about wearing shoes and going to church on Sundays,’ said Layla. ‘Did the welfare people come here before I was born and tell you the rules?’ Mrs Elliott switched off the vacuum cleaner.

‘Layla, where on earth do you get these weird ideas?’

‘Oh, nowhere, I just wondered,’ answered Layla, trying to act as though it wasn’t important and hoping her mother didn’t guess she’d overheard last night’s conversation. She took a banana from the fruit bowl.

‘Bye Mum, I’m going to school now!’ she said, hurrying outside before her mother had time to ask any more questions.

Even if Welfare didn’t make the rules about shoe wearing and church going, Layla couldn’t help wondering if what her mother said would come true. What if the Silks did get so busy they had no time for her once Perry arrived? Ben might forget his promise to teach her how to knit a beanie on a cotton reel. Would beautiful Annie still have time to give her painting lessons? And what about sleeping over? When Griffin said Perry would be sharing his bedroom, Layla hadn’t given it a second thought. Even if there wasn’t enough space in Griffin’s room she could always bunk in with Saffron or Amber or another of the Rainbow Girls. But her mother’s remarks had made her feel uncertain. She remembered no one had invited her to stay at the Kingdom of Silk for the holidays. Had they forgotten or didn’t they want her there? Was it possible that one little boy would make such a big difference?

She cheered up a bit once she got to school because Griffin invited her to come and meet the ten-thirty express the next day, along with the rest of his family.

‘Please come, Layla,’ he said, and she thought he sounded a tiny bit nervous.

‘I’ll ask Daddy,’ she said, ‘Mum won’t be home tonight.’

Fridays were Mrs Elliott’s regular night-out-with-the-girls’ nights and Layla’s brother, Patrick, who had hairy legs and a big Adam’s apple, was at his friend Scotty McAllister’s house. Layla and her daddy walked to the shops and bought fish and chips. When they got home again they ate them out of the paper and watched television at the same time. And there was no washing up because even their drinks were in cans. Later on Mr Elliott got into one of his philosophical moods and invited Layla to sit with him in the philosophising chair. This was a tricky situation. Sometimes sitting in the philosophising chair led to a tender moment. And when that happened, Layla felt as though she could tell her daddy anything. Most Fridays this would not be a problem, but on this particular Friday, Layla knew it could be. If she accidentally happened to mention the welfare people, Daddy might guess she had listened in last night, and eavesdropping was not a good thing to do. So Layla tried to let her daddy do most of the talking. But before she went to bed, she couldn’t resist asking one small but important question.

‘Daddy,’ she said, ‘do you think Griffin will still be my best friend in the entire universe, even after Perry comes?’ When he answered she knew he was telling the truth because he spoke before he had time to think up a fib.

‘Oh, no doubt about it, chicken,’ he said, which was Layla’s favourite nickname of all, ‘I reckon he might even need you to be his friend more than ever.’

2. Names and Nests

The arrival of a child into the family of Silk was always celebrated with love and great happiness. Annie had given birth to all her babies at home. Then, twelve months after each of their birthdays, a Naming Day ceremony was held. Even for Tishkin, who had come after Griffin and who had died when the yellow daisies were in bloom.

But this time was different. Perry had been born somewhere else. Nell had not helped him into the world. Mama had not held him, all slippery and new, to her heart. Daddy had not kissed them both and cried. The Rainbow Girls had not sung him lullabies or taken him for walks in the old wicker pram. Griffin had not made him a daisy-chain crown. And somebody else had named him. Griffin wondered who it was and if they had chosen carefully. Had they waited until they got to know him, the way Mama and Daddy did? That was why, in the Silk family, Naming Day was celebrated one whole year after the birth of the baby. Daddy said he had only once known straightaway what the baby’s name should be, and that was when Griffin came into the Silk family.

Griffin arrived early, far too early. He was tiny, too small even to breathe by himself. An air ambulance flew him and Annie and Ben to a hospital in the city where a machine breathed for him.

‘Your skin was as thin as dragonfly wings, I could almost see through it to your soul,’ Daddy told Griffin. ‘There were many times when I thought it would escape your little body. Day by day Mama and I watched you struggle bravely to stay with us and, though we loved you, I sometimes wished you wings to fly away. It was clear to me even then that your name should be Griffin: courage of a lion, wings of an eagle.’

Because school finished early on the last day before the holidays, Griffin was first to arrive home. Usually Layla would have been with him, but everything was going to be different from today. Everything except Blue, Griffin thought, as he ran towards his dog and flung his arms around his neck. Blue didn’t know things were going to be different. To begin with, he was deaf, so he couldn’t have heard the family discussions about the coming of Perry. And even if he had been able to hear, Griffin knew nothing would stop his faithful friend from waiting at the gate at the bottom of the long red gravel drive until his master came home.

Griffin and Blue trudged up the hill. Griffin could see Nell sitting on the couch on the front veranda waiting for him the way she always did, but for some reason it pleased him more than ever that afternoon. He and Blue ran the rest of the way and Griffin flung himself down on the couch next to Nell and gave her a kiss.

‘What was that for?’ Nell asked, looking pleased.

‘Just because,’ said Griffin. They sat together for a while on the old red sofa the way they had ever since Griffin’s first day at school — Nell and Griffin up the smooth end and Blue down the end with the horsehair stuffing poking through. Griffin leaned against Nell. She smelled like melting moments. He watched her hands shelling peas, her thumb sliding into the plump pod, splitting it open along the seam, the peas rolling like perfect green pearls into the saucepan between her knees. After a while he said, ‘Nell, can I please borrow your book of names?’

‘Of course you can. I’ll get it for you. I’m going inside to make afternoon tea now anyway.’

Nell put the book on the kitchen table in front of Griffin. ‘It’s short for Peregrine,’ she said, even though Griffin hadn’t told her which name he was looking for. Griffin had grown accustomed to this kind of magic. It was only after Layla pointed out not everyone had these powers that he asked Nell if she would teach him. Nell said you couldn’t learn that sort of magic overnight. It had taken her nearly seventy years of practice to get the hang of it.

Griffin found the page and read the entry aloud.

‘PEREGRINE: (Latin) strange traveller/pilgrim. Diminutive: Perry.’

‘What’s a pilgrim?’ he asked. Nell wiped her hands on her apron and took the big dictionary down from the top shelf of the pantry. She ran a floury finger down a tissue-thin page.

‘Here it is,’ she said, squinting her eyes to read the small print. ‘A person who travels to a sacred place.’

‘Do you think Perry is a pilgrim?’

‘Poor little mite probably doesn’t have much say in the matter of where he’s going yet,’ said Nell.

‘What does sacred mean?’ Nell licked her thumb and began to leaf through the dictionary. ‘No, Nell,’ said Griffin, ‘I’ve looked it up before, but it’s hard to understand. Can’t you just tell me what you think it means?’

Nell started kneading dough on the table and staring out the kitchen window at the hollow tree where the rosellas nested. After a while she said, ‘Sometimes I get a feeling that there’s some invisible part of me that’s gone missing. It’s a bit like when you do a jigsaw puzzle and you can’t find that last piece to finish the picture. I know I’m in a sacred place when I stop searching, it feels like I’ve found what I’ve been looking for and everything’s perfect. Does that make sense?’

‘I think so,’ said Griffin. ‘So it’s not only churches?’

‘Some people feel that way about churches, but not everyone,’ said Nell. ‘The Australian Aborigines have sacred sites.’

‘You mean, like Uluru?’

‘That’s right,’ answered Nell, pushing an upside-down glass into the soft dough, making scone shapes and flipping them onto a baking tray. ‘Here, paint the tops of these while I whip the cream.’ Griffin dipped a brush into some milk. When he’d finished Nell handed him the whisk with a smear of sweetened cream left on it. She slid the tray of scones into the hot oven and looked at the clock.

‘Good,’ she said, ‘we’ve got half an hour to spare before the girls get home. Wash your hands when you’ve finished licking the cream off that whisk. I want you to go and get Miss Amelie’s bird book. There’s something in it you might be interested in.’

Before their dear old friend Miss Amelie had been laid to rest last spring, she had made arrangements for Griffin and Layla to have some of her books. Among them was the Comprehensive Illustrated Ornithologist’s Bible. It was a large, heavy book with beautiful illustrations of hundreds of different bird species.

‘Peregrine is also the name of a falcon,’ said Nell. ‘Now what have I done with my glasses? Here, you read it for me, will you Griffin?’ Nell’s glasses were perched on the end of her nose. Griffin didn’t bother to tell her because he liked reading to her, but he wondered why her magic didn’t work for those kinds of things. He read aloud through the sections that described the bird, the way it flew, what it ate and where it lived. Then he came to the breeding section and paused for a few minutes, skimming silently through the words. Nell took the golden brown scones from the oven and put them on a cake rack to cool, then spooned some homemade blackberry jam into a bowl.

‘Listen to this, Nell,’ said Griffin. ‘The female peregrine falcon doesn’t build a nest. She lays her eggs on a bare ledge or a rocky crevice and sometimes in the deserted nest of another bird of prey.’

‘Isn’t that interesting?’ said Nell. ‘Oh, I think I hear the school bus. Best put the book away now, love. Then pop down and tell your mama to come up for afternoon tea.’

On his way down to the small mud-brick building Annie used as an art studio, Griffin wondered if Perry’s mother knew about the Peregrine falcon before she named him. Perhaps she was like the bird that didn’t make a downy nest for her chicks. Only a careless mother would do that, he thought. But when he said this to his mother, she suggested a different way of looking at things.

‘Perhaps the falcon is a good and wise mother, Griffin,’ she said. ‘Think about it. She lays her eggs in a place where no predators can reach them when she isn’t there to care for them.’

‘You mean, Perry’s mother knew she wouldn’t be around to look after him?’

‘I don’t know, but if she did, perhaps she thought a welfare organisation was the safest place to leave him. You’re still happy about Perry coming aren’t you?’ Annie cupped a paint-smeared hand under his chin. ‘We’re all a bit nervous Griff,’ she said gently, ‘but there are ten of us to look after each other. Imagine what it must be like for Perry with no-one.’ Griffin noticed his mother had counted one extra in the family and for a heartbeat he thought she meant Tishkin, but then he understood she had included Layla. Layla would be pleased when he told her.

‘Did you tell Layla which train Perry will be on tomorrow? I’m sure she’ll want to be there when he arrives,’ she said.

‘Yes, I told her.’ Griffin looked up at his mother. There was something he wanted to ask her.

‘What is it, Griffin?’ she asked.

But the words wouldn’t come, instead he said, ‘She’s going to ask her daddy tonight.’ Annie knelt down in front of Griffin the way she did when she knew there was something he was hiding inside. She put her arms around him and drew him in close. His head fitted perfectly into the gentle hill of her shoulder and he wound her long hair around his fingers; golden hair, angel’s hair; hair like Tishkin’s. He closed his eyes tightly.

‘Mama,’ he breathed, not sure if he said the words aloud or if he was letting her read them straight from his heart, ‘Perry’s not coming because Tishkin’s gone away, is he?’ He felt Mama’s breath come out and out and out, as slow as winter honey from an upturned jar.

‘Oh Griff,’ she said at last, ‘no-one could ever replace Tishkin. We wouldn’t even try.’ Then she held him for a long time before she said, ‘There’s a special reason why we want to do this for Perry. I think Daddy might tell you all about it soon, but it has nothing to do with Tishkin.’ She stood up then and took his hand.

‘Come on or we’ll miss out on afternoon tea. Daddy should be home soon, too.’

Griffin suddenly felt as light as air. There was nothing to worry about and it might even be fun to have another boy in the family.

3. Christmas Beetles and Red Balloons

Layla was a child of unquenchable curiosity. She knew this because it had once been written on her school report. Ben told her this meant she was a person who never stopped wanting to find out about things. Since then Layla had discovered something else about her unquenchable curiosity; at times it led her to ignore what other people told her and made her want to find out the truth for herself.

And so, on the morning Perry was to arrive, Layla told herself that no-one, not even her mother, could possibly know what might happen when Perry came to the Kingdom of Silk. She pushed her worries into the corner of her mind, where they scratched away at the edges of her thoughts, like the legs of an upside-down Christmas beetle. But she refused to pay them any attention.

Because it was Saturday and also because the Elliott’s house was on the same side of the street as the railway station, Layla was allowed to go by herself to meet the Silks and await Perry’s arrival. She took two gifts for Perry as she had decided to be extra nice to him. After all, she reasoned, he had been invited to come to the Kingdom of Silk and it wasn’t his fault if he had to share the sleep-out with Griffin. She took a red balloon on a piece of string and a toffee with hundreds and thousands on it. Mr Morgan from the bank had come to St Benedict’s school the day before yesterday and had given her the balloon in exchange for her deposit of two dollars and thirty-five cents worth of five-cent coins. Layla much preferred red balloons to five-cent coins. Some of the helium gas had leaked out of the balloon and it no longer tugged at the string trying to make its escape. Instead it bobbed along half-heartedly between the footpath and the pointy tops of the dark green fence pickets, a bit like the way Layla felt inside; not quite sad and not quite happy.

Then she heard the Silk’s Bedford. She had learned to recognise the sound of its engine. She turned around and waited until it was close enough to see who was inside. Blue’s face appeared from around the back of the cabin. His ears were turned inside out in the breeze, but he beamed when he saw Layla. Ben steered the battered old truck in close to the curb and Layla stepped up onto the running board.

‘Hello,’ she said, sticking her head in the window. As well as Ben, Nell and Annie were inside. They all looked very fine. Ben’s hair was wet and Layla could see the wavy lines the comb had left behind, and he was wearing his red braces he kept for special occasions. Beautiful Annie had a straw hat on with three of Nell’s apricot roses pinned to the brim. Nell’s boots were as shiny as chestnuts and she had on her best apron; the one with the Queen of England on the front. Seeing how smart the Silks looked, Layla was glad she’d worn her angel wings and painted glitter on her toenails. ‘Where are Griffin and the girls?’ she asked.

‘They’re walking,’ said Nell. ‘There’s not enough room for everyone in the cabin and Sergeant Wilson isn’t keen on us riding in the back. They shouldn’t be too far away.’

‘Do you want to squeeze in with us?’ asked Annie. But Layla decided to wait for Griffin.

She was glad she’d waited. Walking along the footpath with Griffin and his sisters, it was almost as though everything was back to normal. Each of the Silks had a small gift for Perry, and Layla was pleased she’d brought the balloon and the toffee.

‘We wanted to have a welcome party,’ explained Saffron, ‘except Daddy and Nell though it might be better to let Perry get used to us first.’

‘Did you think we were scary when you first met us, Layla?’ asked Violet.

‘No, not scary,’ said Layla, remembering her first visit to the Kingdom of Silk and how wonderful she thought it must be to have lots of children in the family and a grandma who was a tiny bit magic and a daddy who did interesting things like cotton-reel knitting. Not that she thought her own daddy was boring, but some of his philosophising was a bit hard to understand and she didn’t like golf at all.

‘I think it’s only grown-ups who think we’re scary,’ said Indigo, and the others laughed.

‘Especially when one of us has Zeus sitting on our shoulder!’ said Saffron. Layla remembered the day Griffin took Zeus, Nell’s one-eyed crow, to school in his backpack. She hadn’t been in the classroom when Griffin let him out, but everyone talked about it for days afterwards. They said Miss Beaumont was terrified.

‘Do you think the welfare people will be scared?’ asked Layla.

‘They’ve already been to our place a few times,’ said Scarlet, ‘only they came while we were at school.’

‘See, what did I tell you? It must be us kids they’re scared of!’ Indigo stuck her tongue out and made herself go cross-eyed. Layla giggled.

‘They come on school days so they can speak to Mum and Dad in peace and quiet!’ said Scarlet in a way that made Layla wonder if you started to lose your sense of humour when you were almost fourteen.

‘Come on, let’s hurry,’ said Amber. ‘It’s nearly a quarter past ten. The train will be here soon!’

Only one welfare woman came with Perry on the ten-thirty express. She didn’t look at all mean, as Layla had imagined she would. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and her long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. Her name was Melody and she had a tiny silver ring in her nose and smiled a lot.

‘Hi Ben! Hi Annie! How are you Nell?’ she said. Then she matched the Rainbow Girls with their names, even though she’d only ever seen them in a photograph. When she got to Griffin, she stuck her hand out for him to shake. ‘Hi Griffin,’ she said. Then something amazing happened. Melody looked at Layla, who was standing next to Blue, and she said, ‘And you must be Griffin’s best friend, Layla.’ Layla felt pleased and surprised at the same time.

‘Yes, I am,’ she answered, and she couldn’t stop her face from smiling. ‘I’ve brought a red balloon for Perry.’ Layla untied the string from her wrist and held it out to the small boy who was holding Melody’s hand and looking down at the dirty concrete platform. With the hand that wasn’t holding Melody’s, he gripped the handle of a small, shabby suitcase embossed with five golden letters. He looked up at Layla with eyes as dark as midnight. His mouth was pink as a pigeon’s toes, but he never spoke a word and he didn’t let go of Melody or the suitcase. So Layla tied the red balloon carefully to the handle of the suitcase.

‘What a lovely thought, Layla,’ said Melody, but Perry said nothing and Griffin and the Rainbow Girls weren’t sure what to do with the gifts they had brought.

Then Ben said, ‘You and Perry must be tired after your trip, Melody. Why don’t we all go to the Colour Patch Café over the road? We could have an ice-cream or a drink or something before we take Perry home.’

4. Angel Wings and Raspberry Spiders

Layla loved going to the Colour Patch Café. Some of Annie’s paintings were displayed on the walls and sometimes people bought them. The other thing she liked about the Colour Patch was the furniture. The seats were like the ones they had in trains in the olden days; a bit like church pews, except much softer, with high, padded backs and cushioned seats. They were arranged in twos, facing each other, with a table between them.

Melody slid in next to the window, with Perry and his suitcase beside her and the red balloon floating lazily towards the ceiling.

Layla was wondering if she should sit next to Perry when Melody said, ‘You can sit with us if you like, Layla.’ Layla took off her wings because she didn’t want them to get messed up, and also because she wanted to use the shiny brass parcel rack that was attached to the back of the seats to make you think you really were in a train.

‘Would you mind putting my wings back there please Ben?’ she asked.

‘Don’t forget to get them afterwards,’ said Annie.

‘They’re beautiful wings, Layla,’ said Melody.

‘Yes, Annie and I made them,’ she said. ‘Nell let me collect the feathers from her chooks when they were moulting and we glued them onto some old stockings. Ben made the frames out of wire.’ The Silks had many uses for old stockings and wire coathangers.

‘How clever,’ said Melody, ‘they look exactly like real wings!’

‘We’ve all got wings at the Kingdom of Silk,’ said Layla. ‘We could make some for Perry too,’ she offered. ‘Couldn’t we Annie?’

‘Of course,’ said Annie, ‘we’ll start saving feathers again.’

Nell sat opposite with Griffin and Ben and Annie. The Rainbow Girls got to have a table all to themselves. When she got herself settled, Nell took out the Vegemite jar in which she kept her egg money and put it on the table.

‘The Girls have been laying well,’ she said. ‘There should be enough in the emergency fund for ice-creams all round!’

‘Nell calls her chooks The Girls,’ Layla explained quietly to Perry, in case he thought Nell was talking about the Rainbow Girls. ‘She sells their eggs to Mr Kefalas in the fish and chip shop.’

The weather was warm for late March so Nell ordered iced mint tea. The man who owned the Colour Patch Café was from a faraway land called Turkey and Nell said he was a mint tea expert. He served it in a glass that looked like a church window, with sugar frosting around the rim. A few rose petals tumbled from the brim of Annie’s hat into her ice-cream sundae and floated upside down in the chocolate sauce like miniature waterlilies. Layla had almost decided to have rocky road ice-cream in a waffle cone, but then Melody ordered raspberry spiders for herself and Perry, and Layla changed her mind and asked for a raspberry spider, too.

Layla decided Melody must be the most unusual welfare woman in the entire universe. That was because she slurped when she got to the foamy pink ice-cream at the bottom of the glass. It was only a small, polite slurp, but it was definitely a slurp. Layla caught Griffin looking at Melody after she did it and they both almost giggled, so that proved she hadn’t imagined it. Layla was never allowed to slurp, not even at home. She made a mental note to tell her mother about Melody. Perry only drank half his spider and he didn’t slurp, because you can only slurp when you get to the bottom of the glass.

While everyone, except Perry, was talking, Griffin was thinking about the five golden letters embossed on Perry’s suitcase. They were P M G d and A. Griffin noticed the d was in lower case while all the rest were in capital letters. There was a boy who went to school at St Benedict’s whose surname started with a little d. His name was d’Agostino. Griffin wondered if that was Perry’s last name too. He thought he might ask him, but not now, not in front of everyone else. Griffin felt a bit uncomfortable listening while the grown-ups tried to include Perry in their conversation, with Perry answering only by nodding or shaking his head. Anyone could tell Perry didn’t want to talk. Griffin himself wasn’t a boy who talked a lot; he did much more thinking than talking. Maybe Perry was a thinking kind of boy too, thought Griffin.

At last Annie said they’d better be going home and Griffin breathed a sigh of relief. They could do things at home that didn’t need much talking. He could show Perry how to catch skinks for Zeus or go swimming in the dam or skim stones across its shiny skin. But all the same he wished Layla was coming with them; she had a knack for making people feel comfortable. He still remembered how much he had hated school when he first started and how the older boys had teased him. The memory of Layla coming to his rescue still burned brightly. She had been one of the smallest kids at St Benedict’s then, but that didn’t stop her from sticking up for him against the school’s biggest bully. Daddy used to say that Layla had been sent to comfort the Silks, like an arm about their shoulders or a candle in the dark, but Griffin thought of her as a shining star, bright as a new tin billy.

When Melody learned the Silk children would be walking home, she offered to order a taxi bus.

‘We don’t mind walking,’ said Scarlet politely, although her eyes looked longingly across the road to the taxi rank.

‘I thought it might be fun if we all went in a taxi together,’ Melody said, and because Scarlet was almost fourteen she understood Melody secretly wanted them to go together because of Perry.

‘Yes, let’s!’ said Saffron, who had never been in a taxi.

Ben fetched Layla’s angel wings from the parcel rack.

Melody and Perry went outside and crossed the road to the taxi rank that was right outside the railway station. Ben held Layla’s wings out.

‘Turn around, Princess Layla,’ he said. Layla gave a twirl like the ballerina in her music box and then stuck her arms out for Ben to put the wings on.

She noticed Nell was about to empty her Vegemite jar on the counter and called out, ‘Thank you, Nell, I had a lovely time.’

‘Aren’t you coming with us?’ said Nell, looking puzzled, and Layla’s heart did a somersault inside her chest. Ben twirled her back again so he could look into her forget-me-not blue eyes.

‘Why aren’t you coming? Did we forget to ask you?’

Layla nodded.

‘Oh Layla, Griffin, I’m so sorry,’ said Annie. ‘With so much else going on I didn’t even think to mention it. I assumed I didn’t need to; you must know how much we love to have you stay.’ The big yellow taxi bus did a U-turn and pulled up at the front of the Colour Patch Café. ‘Why don’t you hop into the taxi with the others. Ben, Nell and I will call in and make sure it’s okay with your mum and dad.’

The taxi driver said he’d never had an angel for a passenger before. Then he asked Melody where she wanted to go.

‘The Kingdom of Silk,’ she said, and the taxi driver laughed.

‘For a minute, lady,’ he said, ‘I thought you were going to ask me to take you to the Kingdom of Heaven!’

5. The Best Thing about Saturday

For a wing-beat, Perry Angel’s hopes hovered above the Colour Patch Café. The taxi driver knew his name! He knew where heaven was! But then he heard them laughing and saw the barefoot girl called Layla dancing down the footpath with her wings wobbling behind her and Perry felt stupid.

He thought he’d given up looking. Seven years was a long time to be trying to find something. That was why his suitcase was so shabby. Even the golden letters were getting worn out. They’d told him right from the beginning that his mother was in heaven. But then Melody came and she didn’t lie to him like The Others had.

‘To be honest,’ she said, ‘we’re not sure where your mum is, Perry.’ That was when he decided to give up looking for heaven. What was the point if his mother wasn’t there? But it was harder to stop looking than he thought.

They lied about the golden letters too. They said they stood for Perry Maxwell, God’s Dearest Angel, and they called him Perry Angel, for short. He felt angry when he found out what the five golden letters really meant. Now he thought Perry Angel was a stupid name. Melody said she liked it and that The Others were only trying to be kind.

One day Melody invented a word game. Perry liked word games. She wrote all five letters underneath each other and made lists of words beside each one. Beside the ‘P’ she wrote words beginning with the letter ‘P’ and next to the ‘M’ a list of ‘M’ words, ‘G’ words next to the ‘G’ and so on. Then they took turns choosing a word from each list and inventing new meanings for the letters on the suitcase. Some of the things they made up were funny and made Perry laugh, like, ‘Poor Melody’s Got Dizzy Armpits.’ Others he didn’t care for much, like, Perry’s Made of Guts, Determination and Anger. He told Melody she was cheating by using ‘of ’ and ‘and’. She said prepositions and conjunctions didn’t count. Perry didn’t know what prepositions and conjunctions were, but the real reason he wanted it crossed off the list was because of the Anger. While he wasn’t looking, Melody changed Anger to Atoms, even though it wasn’t on the list and he hadn’t told her to.

Perry blinked away his thoughts when he saw the angel-girl looking at his golden letters. He hoped she didn’t guess what they really meant. He felt hot and wanted to turn the suitcase around so the writing was facing his leg. He concentrated on her feet so the hotness would go away and wondered if real angels had glitter on their toenails.

Layla sat next to Griffin and perched on the edge of the seat so her wings wouldn’t get crushed. The seats in the yellow taxi bus faced each other like those in the Colour Patch Café, so she had an excellent view of Perry Angel and his suitcase.

Layla would have liked a case like Perry’s even though it was a bit shabby. When she went to the Kingdom of Silk she usually took her things in her school backpack. It was pink and white and had two separate compartments with stars dangling off the zippers and a special place to put your mobile telephone if you had one. Layla usually put a banana in there. Her mother had printed her name neatly in black marker on the bottom of the bag. Layla liked the look of Perry’s shiny gold letters. She imagined them on the front pocket of her backpack, an L and an E.

Her mum and daddy hadn’t been able to agree on a middle name for her, so they didn’t bother with one at all. Sometimes she imagined another name for herself. Something stylish, she thought, like Cordelia or Guinevere. Maybe she could have both. Layla Cordelia Guinevere Elliott. That would look impressive on a suitcase.

When the taxi whizzed past Joe Canning’s place, Griffin said, ‘Look, Layla, there’s still some apples on the ground, we’ll have to come and get them for Nell.’

‘Don’t you have to ask the owner of the orchard first?’ asked Melody.

‘Not really,’ answered Griffin. ‘Nell and Mr Canning have a special arrangement. We can collect windfalls whenever we like as long as Nell makes him an apple pie in return.’

‘Nell makes the best apple pies in the entire universe!’ said Layla, and she almost wished they were walking home instead of zooming along in the yellow taxi bus. But then she remembered she didn’t have her backpack with her. Even with her lunchbox, schoolbooks and pyjamas in it, her backpack could hold enough apples for at least one apple pie. She didn’t think Perry’s suitcase would hold many apples. It hardly looked big enough for a pair of pyjamas. Maybe he didn’t plan on staying long.

Saturday passed Perry by in a haze of strangeness. He was used to that. Each new place had its own strangenesses. But Melody was with him in the Kingdom of Silk and he had his suitcase. He concentrated on the familiar feel of them, one at each side. They anchored his thoughts and stopped fright from spinning loose inside his chest.

Lunch was a banquet on a blanket on the banks of the dam. There were sandwiches and sausage rolls, pink jelly cakes and cream kisses. Afterwards Nell hung the picnic rug on the clothesline out of reach of Delilah and Jezebel.

‘Is it true goats eat anything?’ Layla asked Griffin.

‘Nell says it’s a myth,’ answered Griffin. ‘Our goats are fussy eaters.’

‘That’s right,’ said Nell, ‘but unfortunately they are fond of tartan picnic rugs.’

The Rainbow Girls loaded Blue and the dishes into the wheelbarrow and took them up to the house. Then Ben, Annie, Griffin and Layla took Perry and Melody for a stroll around the Kingdom of Silk.

Inside Annie’s vine-covered studio, the chalk white walls were hung with paintings. Perry gazed at the portraits of her children. There was also one of Layla and another of a baby girl with a crown of daisies on her head. Above them, in the rafters, sheaves of lavender and musky roses dried slowly in the still autumn air.

‘They’re Nell’s,’ Griffin explained. ‘She makes scented sachets for the old folk who live in Lily Lodge and can’t have gardens of their own. On a hook in the corner they found a spare pair of wings. Annie dusted them down and Saffron offered them to Perry, but he shook his head. So Melody put them on over her T-shirt. Then she untied her ponytail and slipped her shoes off. Perry thought she looked as though she belonged in a place like this.

The worst thing that happened to Perry on Saturday began when he and Melody were standing at the bottom of a tree the Silks called Cox’s Orange Pippin. Layla’s legs were dangling from a wooden platform high up in the canopy of leaves.

‘Come up with Griff and me, Perry,’ he heard her call. ‘You can bring Melody if you want to. Can you climb trees, Melody?’

Perry looked up. A breeze shifted the leaves and splotches of sunlight spilled over his face and he felt as though he might like to be up there in the tree-house. But Melody had her wings on and he couldn’t climb up with his suitcase and he was afraid that if he let go of one of them he might get the feeling. So he didn’t do anything because that was safest.

The next moment Perry found himself being led away from the Cox’s Orange Pippin and from Melody. His hand was held firmly in Ben Silk’s. Perry looked back at Melody, but she only smiled at him and stayed there under the tree-house tree with her wings on. It was like a nightmare. Perry concentrated hard on his suitcase. He felt the worn leather handle and the frayed stitching. He squeezed his eyelids shut and stumbled along beside Mr Silk while he imagined opening the suitcase a crack and stuffing the feeling inside it, the lid of the case scraping his knuckles as he drew his hand out quickly and slammed it shut. Mr Silk was talking to him, but Perry couldn’t do his imagining and listen at the same time. He imagined the same thing over and over until the suitcase was full. At last he could open his eyes to see where he was going, and the red gravel path didn’t float around anymore and he didn’t feel like he was going to throw up. He looked up at Mr Silk who smiled at him and squeezed his hand, and the best thing that happened to Perry on Saturday afternoon was when he knew that somehow Mr Silk understood about the feeling.

Melody left early on Sunday morning. Perry didn’t talk to her because it was too dangerous. Sometimes, on occasions like this, if he opened his mouth his eyes got all watery. Melody didn’t take the wings. She hung them behind the door in the sleep-out and told Perry she would come back and have another go of them before the holidays were over. He tried not to believe her in case she didn’t keep her promise, but it was a hard thing to do, because she kissed him goodbye. The Others had never kissed him.

6. The Colour of Heaven

Layla noticed how Perry’s chin wobbled after Melody kissed him goodbye, so she took hold of his free hand even though she would much rather have gone with Griffin and Blue in the back of the Bedford to open the gate for Ben and Melody.

‘How long does it take for determination to work?’ Layla asked Nell later that afternoon.

‘Depends,’ said Nell, ‘What is it you’re determined about?’

Layla shrugged. ‘To make Perry happy.’ Then in a few seconds she added. ‘So he’ll put his suitcase down. When Melody left I kept hold of him until Griff and Blue came back from opening the gate,’ she explained, ‘but he kept his fingers stiff the whole time and didn’t curl them around mine even a little bit.’

‘Well I’m glad to hear you want Perry to be happy,’ said Nell, ‘but sometimes determination isn’t enough. Happiness comes from the inside; it’s something people have to choose for themselves. Perhaps the best thing you can do is be determined to stay happy yourself and hope it will rub off on Perry. And don’t forget, Layla, you’re not the only one who wants him to be happy.’

Layla felt happy almost straightaway and didn’t notice that Nell had forgotten to mention the suitcase. But Griffin had been listening carefully to Nell’s answer and he did notice.

‘Nell, if you gave Perry a whirl on your clothes line he’d have to put his suitcase down,’ he suggested, staring dreamily out the window. It was the kind of look he got on his face when he was thinking of eating golden syrup dumplings or rolling down a grassy bank in spring or whirling about like a rag in the wind on Nell’s Hills Hoist. ‘He’s not as big as me, Nell. He wouldn’t be too heavy.’

‘The day Perry Angel asks for a whirl on my clothes line, I’ll gladly give him one,’ said Nell. ‘In fact I might even have a whirl with him!’

‘Cross your heart?’ asked Layla.

‘Cross my heart,’ said Nell, and she licked her finger and crossed the Queen of England’s face.

Because the getting of happiness was a matter of choice and the entire Silk family was doing its best to be an example of happiness to Perry, Griffin and Layla sometimes got to play by themselves, and gradually the Christmas beetle feeling in Layla’s chest disappeared.

One morning when it was almost time for Melody to come back and try her wings, Layla said to Griffin, ‘Can we get your treasure out and look at it?’

Some people keep their treasure locked up in a safe or a bank vault, but Griffin kept his under his bed. In his opinion there was no use having treasure if you couldn’t see it or touch it or smell it. Besides, everyone knew robbers didn’t come looking for treasure under beds. Annie said there was so much treasure under Griffin’s bed she couldn’t fit her broom in to sweep the dust out. Griffin reasoned that if all the space was taken up with treasure, there would be no dust and Mama wouldn’t have to sweep. It was what Layla’s daddy would have called a ‘win-win situation’.

Layla and Griffin lay on their stomachs on the floor and peered into the darkness under the bed. Griffin pulled out a black and white cardboard box. It had ‘Black Magic’ in raised letters on the lid and a picture of a white rabbit, a magician’s top hat and a magic wand. Layla had seen the box before. It had once belonged to Ben and was her favourite of all Griffin’s treasures.

‘Are you ready?’ he asked Layla, and she pulled herself so close that her nose was almost touching the box. She closed her eyes and waited, then opened them at the exact moment Griffin took the lid off the box. It was an old chocolate box. The chocolates had long gone, but the smell of them remained, drifting out like a genie from a bottle whenever the lid was lifted. Now the box held a collection of beautifully patterned chocolate wrappings that Griffin had carefully smoothed with his thumbnail until all the wrinkles were gone. Once, he had found a cockroach in the box having a sniff of chocolate. He let it go into the woodheap.

After he and Layla had laid all the pieces of foil on the floor and arranged them in several different patterns, Griffin said, ‘We’d better put them away now in case they lose their chocolateyness.’ They carefully replaced the wrappers in the Black Magic box and slid it back under the bed.

‘Do you think Perry’s got treasure in his suitcase?’ Layla asked Griffin. He wrinkled his forehead.

‘Not sure,’ he said.

‘Or maybe he’s a secret agent,’ said Layla and they both giggled.

‘I wonder what secret agents have in their suitcases?’ asked Griffin.

‘Binoculars and a mobile telephone!’

‘What else?’

‘Don’t know. I wonder what the letters mean?’ Layla thought for a bit and then said, ‘Perry’s something-or-other Detective Agency.’ Then Griffin tried to think what the M and the G might stand for.

‘Perry’s Mighty Good Detective Agency!’ he said, and they rolled about on the floor laughing and holding their sides until an image of Perry crept into Layla’s head and she could see him walking around by himself with his suitcase in his hand. His midnight eyes were heavy with secrets and his mouth was tiny and tight. He looked anxious and restless the way Blue did when he was trying to find the right place to lie down and sleep or a safe place to hide a bone. And suddenly Layla didn’t feel as though they should be laughing anymore, even though it had only been a joke.

‘Let’s go and see where Perry is,’ she said, sitting up.

Perry was inside the studio. Outside, a blackbird cast a fleeting shadow on the flaming vine leaves and piped a sharp sweet note through the open window as he flew. Annie’s brush stroked the canvas like a sigh. Indigo passed Perry clean white paper and a rainbow in a box. Seventy-two coloured pencils, including seven shades of blue. Perry sat down on the slated floor in a shaft of sunlight and lay his case across his knees. He looked carefully at all the jewel-bright colours. He turned them in the tin with his finger so he could see their pretty names: peacock, sapphire, kingfisher, azure, indigo, cornflower and sky. He lay the sheet of paper over the five golden letters on his suitcase. Then he chose one of the seven shades of blue and covered the paper with the colour of heaven.

‘We’re going to collect the eggs, Perry,’ said Layla when they found him. ‘Nell thought you might like to come with us.’ Because Melody had gone, Perry had got used to walking with the suitcase in one hand and nothing in the other. Sometimes Blue walked on his empty side. Nell said Blue possessed other senses to make up for his deafness. Perry wondered if Blue knew about the feeling. He noticed it didn’t come quite so badly when Blue walked beside him. Once, he’d patted Blue. It felt nice and Blue had turned around and smiled at him. But he never did it again in case Blue missed him when he was gone.

Nell tossed her Girls some vegetable peelings and a few handfuls of grain and while they were happily scratching and pecking, she opened the small wooden doors to their nesting boxes. Layla and Griffin collected twelve perfect eggs — some brown, some white — from the clean golden straw.

‘Well done, Girls,’ said Nell as she put one of the eggs in Perry’s free hand. It felt warm and he closed his fingers around it.

‘What about this one?’ asked Layla, pointing to a white hen with a collar of black feathers around her neck. ‘Is she still laying her egg?’

‘We won’t bother Madonna today,’ said Nell. ‘She’s a bit cranky. Anyway I think I have enough eggs. I saved some from yesterday. We’re going to boil them and paint them for Easter, Perry,’ she explained. ‘You can decorate one for Melody if you like, she’ll be back on Sunday.’

That night, before he went to bed, Perry lifted the latches of his suitcase and opened it a crack. He checked to make sure the picture he’d made was still in there. He must be careful. He mustn’t let Melody see the picture. If she saw it and The Others made her tell, they might come and take him away.

7. Madonna and the Promise

Egg-decorating night was a tradition in the Kingdom of Silk. Everyone sat around the kitchen table and was given an egg. Perry put his suitcase on his knees and cradled his egg carefully while he watched what the others were doing. He saw Indigo put hers into a saucepan of red dye. It came out cooked and coloured ruby red and she drew scrolls and curls all over the shell with a fine black pen until it looked like a magic carpet. Violet tied pieces of narrow ribbon around her egg before she cooked it. She added some blue to Indigo’s red cooking water and made a purplish colour. When it was cool and the ribbon was removed, her purple egg was striped with white. Then she painted the white parts with glue and sprinkled them with silver glitter.

‘That egg will hatch if you hold it any longer, Perry!’ said Indigo, noticing he hadn’t even started. ‘Here, let me help you.’ She put a few drops of blue dye in some clean water. While his egg was cooking, Perry watched Ben. He had already dyed his egg a deep mossy green and was using a large, sharp needle to engrave it. He scratched away at the thin green layer so the white underneath showed through. On the back he’d carved a flower. It looked like one of Nell’s roses.

‘Oh, it’s beautiful, Ben,’ said Annie.

‘I think I’ll give it a coat of lacquer when I’ve finished,’ said Ben looking pleased. Then he leaned over and whispered to Perry. ‘I’m making mine for Annie.’ He turned the egg around in the palm of his hand and Perry saw the two letters A and B twined together like the stems of the blackbird’s vine outside the studio window.

‘Here, Perry, you can start on yours now,’ said Indigo, putting a pale blue egg in front of him. Layla came to look at Ben’s egg.

‘It’s really good, Ben. Are you going to put some glitter on it? I’m doing mine for Daddy,’ she told him. ‘Do you think he’ll mind if it’s pink?’

Perry wondered if all the others were decorating their eggs for someone else. ‘Do you want some stickers, Perry?’ asked Layla, offering him a sheet of dots and dinosaurs, hearts and stars. ‘Or you could draw a face or glue some sequins to it. I’m going to put pink sequins on mine, and some feathers.’

He didn’t mind Layla talking to him. He liked the way she talked without expecting an answer. Although sometimes he thought he’d like to talk to her, and if it hadn’t been for having to concentrate on the suitcase all the time, he might have. There was a part of Layla that was like him. She wasn’t a Silk either.

When he had finished his egg, Perry thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever made.

Melody didn’t come on Easter Sunday. She telephoned the night before and told Nell she wasn’t well. Melody asked if she could speak to Perry, but he didn’t want to talk to her on the telephone. He didn’t tell her he had decorated an egg for her or that it was the most beautiful thing he had ever made. At least now he didn’t have to worry about her seeing the picture of heaven.

On Easter Sunday the scent of spices; nutmeg, cinnamon and cloves, wafted through the old house on the hill at the Kingdom of Silk, sneaking under doors and drifting into dreams. Layla woke up and wriggled up onto Griffin’s bed, still cocooned in her sleeping bag; a warm pink caterpillar.

‘Wake up Griff, it’s Easter! Come on Perry!’

Perry rubbed his eyes to smudge his dreams away and opened them to Layla’s forget-me-not stare and her morning-bright smile. He looked out the louvre windows behind him and heaven was everywhere. In the hall he heard rushing footsteps, bare feet and the sound of slippers slapping on the boards. There were dreamy voices and others as clear and bright as blackbird songs. Perry tumbled out of bed, grabbed his suitcase and followed Griffin and Layla, who were running towards the kitchen as though it was the centre of the universe.

The table was set. Beside each plate was a chocolate egg wrapped in foil and tied with ribbon. In the middle of the table there was a mountain of home-made hot-cross buns; fragrant and fat and fruity and sticky with glaze. Perry had never seen so many, not even in the window of a bakery. After the buns came the giving. Amber went first. She liked to cook. Her ambition was to be as good a cook as Nell and to have as many aprons. Her gift was to share. It was a cake in the shape of a heart. ‘It’s an Armenian Love cake,’ she said. Amber was a romantic cook.

Then Indigo put a cardboard egg carton on the table. It had four hair scrunchies around it and a sign that said, ‘DO NOT OPEN’.

‘Hurry up and open it, Indi!’ said Violet. Slowly Indigo took the scrunchies off. Then she flipped open the lid of the carton.

‘Ta da!’ she said. It was full of decorated eggs. She had started preparing them well before egg-decorating night. ‘You can all choose one,’ she said. ‘You first, Perry.’ Perry knew exactly which one he liked best. He chose the magic-carpet egg.

It wasn’t only things that could be seen that the Silks gave as gifts. There were promises. On the table was a glass bowl filled with coloured slips of paper. Each piece was folded in half and the name of a person was written on the outside of it. As the bowl was passed around the table Ben explained the ritual to Perry.

‘Inside each slip of paper is a promise and a name. The name on the outside is the person the promise is for and the name on the inside is the person who made the promise.’

Annie found one with her name on it. She opened it up and read it aloud. ‘Mama, I promise to milk Delilah and Jezebel on Sundays so you can have a sleep in. Love from Scarlet.’

‘I’ll be starting next week,’ Scarlet said. When the bowl came to Nell she took out a yellow piece of paper and unfolded it. She read it silently and her chin wobbled. Straightaway Griffin knew it was the same promise she got every year, the one from Daddy. Nell could have put it in the pocket of her apron and all the Silks would still have known what it said, but it was important to read it out loud, because promises are precious. Nell gave a sniff and began to read.

‘I promise to love you forever, Mum. Ben Silk.’

Griffin sometimes wondered why Daddy always signed it with his last name, too. He was sure no other Ben would make that promise to Nell.

The buns had been eaten, the gifts given and the promises made, and Violet had begun to wash the dishes, because that was her promise, when Nell suddenly remembered something important.

‘Griffin, Layla and Perry, I almost forgot! There’s something I want to show you,’ she said. They followed her down the passageway and out the door. Then they walked through the dewy grass towards the hen’s yard. Nell opened the gate and the children followed her through. Madonna clucked and fluffed her feathers and six handfuls of yellow down darted under her wings and hid.

‘So that’s why she was so cranky yesterday!’ said Layla.

‘Yes, they only hatched this morning,’ said Nell as she sat down on an upside-down bucket. ‘If we wait quietly, they’ll come out again,’ she whispered, leaning her back against the wire fence. And they did, but Layla noticed something odd.

‘Nell,’ she whispered. Why have these chickens got webbed feet and funny beaks?’

‘Because they’re not chickens,’ Nell whispered back. ‘They’re ducklings. Mr Jenkins has a duck that lays eggs and hatches them but then she stands on the babies and kills them. So I put some of her eggs under Madonna and she hatched them out.’

‘So they’re not her babies at all?’ asked Layla. Perry didn’t say anything, but he was looking and listening carefully.

‘No, not really,’ said Nell. ‘But she’s a very good mother. She’ll look after these babies better than their own mother would have.’ She stood up then. ‘Come on, we’d better get ready now.’

‘Are you going to wear your Sunday best, Nell?’ asked Layla as they walked back to the house.

‘Of course! And I think your mum put some good clothes in your backpack for you to wear.’

‘Boring clothes,’ mumbled Layla.

‘We’ll just have to accessorise daaarling!’ said Nell, sticking her bottom out at a jaunty angle and sounding so much like Scarlet talking to her friends that Griffin and Layla got the giggles.

Perry didn’t even notice because he was still thinking about Madonna and the babies that didn’t belong and about the promise Ben Silk had made to Nell.

8. The Carpenter and the Egg

The Silks put on their Sunday best and walked down the hill to St Benedict’s. The preacher had invited them specially. Nell liked the preacher. She said that although they had their differences they had a lot in common. Mr Elliott liked the preacher too. Layla thought it was probably on account of them having the same hairstyle. Nell had brought the preacher a gift. It was an egg. She had painted it black with a white, back-to-front collar and a bald eggy head. It was a preacher egg for the preacher.

‘Sometimes people forget the preacher’s just a man,’ said Nell. ‘I think he’d like an egg for Easter, just like the next person.’

‘We’ve only got one church at Cameron’s Creek,’ Layla told Perry, ‘but the preacher says everyone’s welcome in God’s house.’ She was walking next to Griffin and Perry was on her other side next to Ben. Blue and Zeus were coming too, although they would have to stay outside and wait because they were only welcome in God’s house once a year at the Blessing of the Animals.

Ben said to Perry, in his nice, slow, Sunday morning voice, ‘Would you like me to carry your case for a bit?’

Perry acted like he didn’t hear the question, but Layla knew he had because she had heard it and she was further away. Ben kept walking steadily with his leather sandals crunching on the gravel road as though he hadn’t said a thing. His sandals and long hair made Layla think of God’s son, Jesus. There was a picture of him on one of the church windows. He looked a bit like Ben. Layla thought that if Jesus was as nice as Ben Silk he must have been a really good person.

‘Do you look at the windows when you go to church, Griff?’ Layla asked. Griffin nodded. ‘You’ll like the windows, Perry,’ she said. ‘They’re all the colours of the rainbow and they have pictures on them and sometimes if you squint your eyes and want something very much, it happens. When our friend Miss Amelie died I squinted at a white bird on the window and it flew up into the ceiling and out the door and I think it took her soul to heaven.’

The Elliotts were waiting outside St Benedict’s. Layla hoped her mum wouldn’t be too cross about the wings, but since Amber and Saffron were wearing theirs as well, maybe she wouldn’t. At least she was also wearing her boring Sunday best dress and shoes. After everyone else had gone inside, Griffin and Layla sat down on the step with Blue and Griffin explained to Blue why he had to wait outside. Blue’s cleverness never ceased to amaze Layla. He looked at Griffin until he’d finished talking and then smiled at him and wagged his tail as though he understood completely, which he must have because he didn’t try to come inside. Instead he stretched out his red and white freckles under the sun and closed his eyes. Zeus inspected the contents of the rubbish bin in the park then flew across to the rickety bell tower where he watched over Blue.

After church, Nell gave the preacher his egg. Then she gave Mr Elliott an ice-cream container full of lamingtons because she knew how much he liked them. Mrs Elliott came hurrying back from her car carrying a big basket of Easter eggs. She gave them to the Silks to take home and Layla felt proud of her mother.

‘Thank you, Caroline, thank you, Tony,’ said Annie. Then Ben introduced Mr and Mrs Elliott to Perry.

‘You must be having a lovely time up there with the Silks,’ Mr Elliott said to Perry, and it seemed like everyone was waiting to see if Perry would answer, even though it wasn’t really a question. Sometimes silence is comfortable, like when you’re lying on your stomach with your best friend in the entire universe waiting for a slater to uncurl, but there are other times when silence is uncomfortable. This was one of those other times and Layla was glad when her Daddy said, ‘There’s one condition with those eggs.’

Layla and all the Silks turned to look at him. ‘Could you please take the foil off really carefully so it doesn’t tear and give it to Griffin?’ Griffin beamed.

‘You’d best come home with us now, Layla,’ said Mrs Elliott. ‘You have to go back to school the day after tomorrow and we’ve hardly seen you over the holidays. Griffin can come too and stay for dinner if that’s all right.’

‘Of course,’ said Annie, ‘and thank you for loaning us Layla. We always enjoy having her stay.’

Layla cheered up then even though it was much more exciting at the Kingdom of Silk than at her house.

Griffin was pleased too. It was difficult to be an example of happiness all the time. He’d noticed Layla’s happiness showed up a lot on her outside, while his was more of an inside kind of happiness. He didn’t have to try so hard when he and Layla were by themselves. But, all the same, he said, ‘What about Perry?’ because he didn’t want him to feel left out.

‘Perry and I have something important to do tonight,’ said Ben. ‘Perhaps he can come with you next time.’ Griffin felt peaceful inside because he had learned, after Tishkin went away, that there was no need for him to ever be jealous because Daddy had enough love for them all.

After lunch on Easter Sunday, Ben Silk said, ‘There’s something I’ve got to finish. Perry and I will be in the shed.’ Then he went outside and opened the door to his shed. Perry followed him inside.

When the door closed behind them it was dark except for the pinpricks of sunlight that leaked in through nail holes in the roof. The shed was filled with a special kind of quietness that got in Perry’s ears and up his nose and down his throat into his chest until he was so full of it there was no room left for the feeling to get in.

Ben sat on a wooden trestle beside a cluttered bench. He flicked a switch and a circle of yellow light flared like a halo around his head and a dusty old radio crackled softly to life. Perry felt safe, as though the switching on had somehow made him feel that way. It was almost like being in God’s house and he wanted to take off his shoes and close his eyes. Perry had seen the picture of God’s son on the window in St Benedict’s. Layla said he was a carpenter. And though Ben Silk had taken off his Sunday best and put on his everyday overalls and his elastic-sided boots, Perry Angel was reminded of that picture. He wished he was brave enough to ask Ben what he knew about heaven.

Ben took a knife from his pocket and picked up an ugly lump of wood from the bench. He began to shave slivers from it as he whistled softly to the tunes on the radio. Long spirals, curls and crumbs of wood fell quietly to the floor. Time passed quickly in Ben Silk’s shed. The nail holes in the roof began to disappear and Perry Angel could see something magic was happening to the piece of wood in Ben’s hands. He moved a step or two closer and put his suitcase on the floor amongst the spirals and the curls. The wood shavings fell as gently as snow upon the five golden letters and soon they were completely covered.

At times Perry thought he was dreaming or that he and Ben had been transported into another world. There were sounds outside: the bleating of goats, the laughter of children, the sigh of the wind and the song of a bird, but all were in some other place, far away. Ben took a scrap of gritty paper in his hands and rubbed at the wood until it smelled as though it would catch fire. His eyelashes and hair filled with wood dust. Then he dribbled some golden liquid from a bottle onto a rag and polished the thing he had coaxed from the chunk of wood.

At last Ben said to Perry, ‘Put out your hand,’ and he did. On his palm he saw a perfect wooden egg. It felt warm, as though it were a living thing. Perry slid his thumb over its curved surface. He felt its smoothness and saw the swirling patterns of its grain, like wave-prints on wet sand.

‘It’s made of olive wood,’ said Ben. ‘The preacher says the olive tree is a symbol of peace. It’s yours. It’s to hold on to while you’re finding your right place.’

Perry closed his fingers. The egg fitted perfectly.

9. Eleven Letterboxes

The telephone rang after dinner. It was Mrs Elliott. She wanted to know if Griffin could stay the night. Perry had the sleep-out to himself. Annie read him a story about a man who loved boxes. Then she tucked in his blankets and kissed his forehead. She left the lamp on. Perry listened to her footsteps fading on the knotted yellow floorboards and heard the kitchen door squeal shut. He looked at Melody’s wings on the back of the door for a while then he reached out and picked his pants up off the floor and took the wooden egg from the pocket.

On the first day of school, Perry ate the magic-carpet egg for breakfast and Nell put the pieces of its shell in a matchbox so he could keep them. Then Annie had a surprise for Perry. When Nell and Griffin had gone outside to feed Madonna and her foster babies she showed it to him. It was a brand new backpack.

‘I thought you could use it to take your lunchbox and pencils and things to school,’ she said. Perry looked at the backpack. It was black and red with silvery zippers. He closed his hand around the wooden egg in his pocket. ‘But if you’d rather you can put them in your case,’ Annie said. ‘Off you go, you can decide while you’re brushing your teeth.’

But Perry couldn’t decide and he started to get the feeling. What if he got it while he was at school and he didn’t have his suitcase? He didn’t know if the backpack would work. He heard the Bedford start up. He felt sick and he didn’t have time to put the feeling in the suitcase. Ben would be waiting and the white tiles on the wall were melting. Then Annie came in.

‘I’ve an idea,’ she said, unzipping the new backpack and putting a lunchbox inside, ‘why don’t you take them both today?’

No-one, not even Perry, seemed to know where he would fit in, so they put him in a composite grade. Miss Cherry, the teacher of 1/2 C had a small, scruffy dog and, like Layla, she was familiar with the signs of looking for a place. She recognised it as soon as she saw Perry with his small, shabby suitcase. So when the other children told Perry he’d have to take his case to the locker room, Miss Cherry made an exception to the rule.

‘Suitcases embossed with golden letters are an entirely different kettle of fish to backpacks,’ she told her students firmly. Perry didn’t understand exactly what that meant but Miss Cherry tucked his suitcase under his desk.

At recess some of the grade 6 boys called Perry ‘Foster Boy’ and laughed at his suitcase. But Layla set things straight.

‘Only important people have suitcases with golden letters on them, you dunces!’ she shouted. ‘And his name’s not Foster Boy, it’s Perry Angel.’

Perry hung on tight to the wooden egg and fought the need to close his eyes.

‘What sort of a stupid name is that?’ asked one of the boys.

‘It’s not stupid, it’s short for Peregrine.’ It was Griffin’s voice. He’d heard Layla and wanted to help but now he wasn’t sure what to say next. ‘The Peregrine is a falcon, a bird of prey.’ He’d memorised the words from Miss Amelie’s Comprehensive Illustrated Ornithologist’s Bible. ‘They are magnificent in flight, plummeting with remarkable speed to catch their prey.’

‘Geez, another name-freak! You’re not related to them crazy Silks, are you, kid?’ said the boy who was Scotty McAllister’s younger brother.

‘He lives with us,’ said Griffin.

‘Can’t he talk for himself?’

‘Of course he can,’ said Layla, ‘he’s being quiet because he’s got a lot of important things to think about and, besides, he only talks to people who speak nicely to him!’ She tucked her arm through Perry’s so he wouldn’t have to let go of his suitcase. ‘Come on, Perry,’ she said, leading him away. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got for play-lunch.’

Beneath the elm boughs Griffin, Layla and Perry pooled their play-lunches; Nell’s melting moments, Joe Canning’s apples and skinny sticks of cheese. Then Perry noticed a feeling inside him. But it wasn’t the one that had to be locked in his suitcase; it was something different and it was nice.

One Friday morning, not too long after that, Perry pushed his suitcase into a dark corner under his bed and left it there.

In April, Madonna’s babies had their first swim in the dam and Ben Silk sold a carved sideboard he had made with the planks from the old railway footbridge. After he and Annie had done the budgeting there was enough money left over to buy a pair of binoculars in a leather case. Ben showed Griffin and Perry how to adjust them to bring the world at the other end of the lenses into focus. On the following weekend Nell made a picnic for four. Ben drove Griffin, Layla and Perry to a place called Stuchbury’s Plateau which looked like an enormous hill with the top sliced off. They ate their picnic lunch on the grass at the bottom of the steeply rising rock face, then Ben put the binoculars to his eyes and raised them to the sky.

‘What’s up there, Ben? What can you see?’ asked Layla.

‘I can’t see anything yet,’ he said. ‘We might have to be patient.’

Perry had been waiting for a long time to see what was in heaven. He decided he could wait a little longer. He lay down on his back in the grass. Heaven still seemed a long way away, but it didn’t seem to matter so much anymore. Ben, Griffin and Layla were beside him and he had his olive-branch egg in his pocket.

‘There it is!’ shouted Ben in a whisper, and he passed the binoculars to Perry. ‘Can you see it?’

Perry felt for the wheel that made everything look clear and moved the binoculars slowly up the jagged cliff until it met the sky. Then he saw it; a dark star in heaven. He remembered the words Griffin had used to describe it, ‘Magnificent in flight, plummets at remarkable speed’. This was what they had come for; to see the Peregrine falcon in its special place.

When they got back to the Kingdom of Silk, Perry and Layla lay on the pink cabbage roses on the worn out carpet square in the front room. Griffin showed them pictures of the Peregrine falcon in the Comprehensive Illustrated Ornithologist’s Bible and then he read all the words out loud.

In May, Nell asked Perry to wash the dishes. She pushed a chair up to the sink and loaned him her green rubber gloves with red fingernails painted on them. Perry had never washed dishes before. Visitors didn’t get asked to do chores. Later on that night he took the picture of heaven out of his suitcase and drew a picture of a falcon on it. Nell stuck it on the front of the refrigerator and Perry didn’t mind because Melody would never see it so The Others wouldn’t find out.

Then came winter, as winter does. On some days it shone brightly in the Kingdom of Silk. Frost blazed like diamonds and spider’s silk hung from barbed-wire fences, dripping with dew drop jewels. Annie filled vases with arching boughs of ruby coloured rose hips that grew wild beside the creek. Scarlet-breasted robins admired their reflections in sugar-frosted window panes. Some days it rained, some days it poured, some days silver curtains swept across the hills and in the valley lightning lashed the bell tower of St Benedict’s. In winter Perry learned that heaven was not always blue. Sometimes it was pink or purple or grey or even black, but it was always there.

On winter evenings Ben played rollicking sea shanties and lilting love songs on his mouth organ while Annie sang the words and made soup as thick as porridge in a pot as big as a baby’s bath. On winter mornings Nell put rocks in the oven of the wood stove until they were hot, then she wrapped them in old newspapers and gave them to Perry and Griffin to keep their hands warm while they walked to school.

On their way home, it was Griffin and Perry’s job to check for mail. On the corner of the road that led to the Kingdom of Silk eleven letterboxes stood, all in a crooked row. One August afternoon there was a slim blue envelope in the Silk’s letterbox. There was tiny writing printed on the front of it next to a picture of two hands. One of the hands in the picture was big and it was holding on to a small one.

‘You can carry it if you like,’ said Griffin. Perry took his backpack off and put the letter inside.

When they reached home, Nell was sitting on the veranda watching storm clouds blow across the valley. Perry handed her the letter. She took her glasses out of her apron pocket, put them on and peered at the tiny writing and the picture of the two hands, then she tucked the envelope in her apron pocket.

‘It’s for Ben and Annie,’ she said.

That night, after Perry had gone to bed, Ben and Annie Silk told Griffin and the Rainbow Girls that the letter contained important news.

10. Castaway

Melody was coming back to the Kingdom of Silk in spring. When Layla heard of her return she thought it would be the perfect opportunity to celebrate.

‘What sort of a celebration?’ asked Griffin, wondering if Layla had somehow guessed about the important news. Layla bunched her shoulders up near her ears.

‘I don’t know. Weren’t the Rainbow Girls going to have a party to welcome Perry?’

‘Yes, but he’s been here for ages, now.’

‘Spring, then,’ said Layla, ‘or because Melody’s coming back. There’s heaps of things we can be thankful for! What about Perry’s birthday? When is that?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Griffin.

‘Nell might know, let’s ask her,’ said Layla.

‘Not till December,’ said Nell.

‘Oh, that’s too far away,’ said Layla.

‘Too far away for what?’

‘Layla wants to have a celebration when Melody comes,’ explained Griffin.

‘Now that’s a good idea!’ said Nell, and for a minute Griffin thought Nell had forgotten about keeping the secret. ‘But first let me ask Annie and Ben what they think.’

Ben and Annie agreed some kind of celebration was in order.

‘Yes,’ said Annie, ‘Layla’s right, we do have a lot to be thankful for.’

‘What will we call the party?’ asked Layla.

‘I’m sure you and Griffin will think of something,’ said Nell.

While they were thinking, Nell asked them what sort of food they thought she should make.

‘Sausage rolls,’ said Griffin, because they were his favourite.

‘And chocolate cake,’ said Layla. Then Amber came into the kitchen.

‘Chocolate cake, what for?’ she asked.

‘We’re having a celebration,’ said Griffin.

‘I’ll make my Armenian Love cake if you like,’ said Amber, not bothering to ask what they were celebrating.

‘Two cakes?’ asked Griffin, but no-one seemed to notice. Then Layla thought of an excellent name for the party.

‘We could call it the Day of Cake and Thankfulness!’ she said.

‘That, said Nell, ‘is the perfect name.’

On the eve of the Day of Cake and Thankfulness Layla stayed at the Silk’s house to help with the catering. There was much to be done. She sprinkled sausage rolls with poppy seeds, bread triangles with hundreds and thousands, and lamingtons with coconut. Then she and Griffin floated sixteen chocolate frogs on sixteen jelly ponds and before they went to bed they blew up sixteen red balloons.

On the morning of the Day of Cake and Thankfulness, the daffodils unfurled their yellow trumpets. The table was set beneath the Cox’s Orange Pippin. Nell used a tablecloth with holly wreaths embroidered in the corners, even though it wasn’t Christmas. Layla and the Rainbow Girls put Wickedly Watermelon smiles on their faces with Nell’s new pink lipstick and Blue had his hair brushed and his toenails trimmed.

Miss Cherry and her small scruffy dog were the first to arrive. They brought a gift for Perry — a rainbow in a box; a tin of pencils of his own. The Elliotts came next and then the preacher. Layla hardly recognised him because he was wearing a pink and orange Hawaiian shirt and jeans. Then the yellow taxi came with Melody. That was when they discovered Perry had gone missing.

The Elliotts and the preacher, Miss Cherry and Melody all helped the Silks to search for the precious thing they had lost. They looked everywhere; in the house and under the house, in the bedrooms and under the beds. They looked in the Bedford and in the hen house and turned the yellow light on in Ben’s shed, but Perry wasn’t there. Their footsteps grew quicker and they muttered little prayers and made promises inside their heads while they climbed the crooked steps to the tree-house and searched the tangled garden. But not a trace could they find of Perry Angel. Their faces grew white and their hands and hearts trembled when Griffin came running to tell them he had found Perry’s small, shabby suitcase lying on the end of the jetty.

Perry Angel sat as still as could be in the middle of the raft. He wished he hadn’t put his suitcase down before he lifted the loop of rope off the mooring post. He wished the corner of the raft hadn’t dipped so dangerously down into the water when he’d taken a step back to try to reach his case, and he wished the life jacket hadn’t floated away. He wondered how long it would take him to reach the sea and hoped it wouldn’t be too long. He felt the breeze in his hair and wished it would blow harder and fill the rag sail because the water was coming up through the cracks between the logs. He wished he had oars so he could steer the raft. Then Perry told himself it was no use wishing for things that would never come true.

He had seen Melody’s taxi arrive moments before the raft nudged its way around the far side of the island. She was too late; they’d never find him once he reached the sea. He lay down on the raft and watched the clouds drifting and wondered how Layla would feel when she found out he wasn’t important at all. What would she think when she knew the suitcase was stolen from a thrift shop and the five golden letters only stood for Post Master General’s Department of Australia and prepositions didn’t count? Would Melody show them the newspaper clipping that told the story of how he had been left in the suitcase on the steps of the Maxwell Street welfare office? And what about Griffin when he found out Perry wasn’t short for anything, that it wasn’t even his proper name; it was just made-up, something you called a boy whose mother hadn’t given him a name? He wondered how Nell would feel if she opened the suitcase and discovered he had stolen some of her lamingtons for the voyage. But it didn’t matter what they thought, because he’d never see them again.

He put his hands over his ears so he wouldn’t hear them calling. Then he curled himself up as small as he could and tried to pretend he wasn’t there.

Time passed and Perry felt the raft gently rocking. He pictured white-capped waves and golden sand. When he opened his eyes he stared in dismay. He wasn’t at the sea at all. The raft had done a complete circle of the island. Ben Silk was running towards the jetty. Perry scrambled to his feet. He steadied himself against the mast and braced his feet on the slippery logs. The raft tilted and the water lapped greedily over the edges. Perry was afraid, but not of the water. He was afraid Melody would take him back to The Others the way she always did. But this time it would be worse, much worse, because this time he had found his special place. Then the feeling began to come back and there was nothing and no-one for Perry to hold on to. The raft began to rock and he couldn’t keep his balance. His whole world was spinning out of control.

‘Don’t move!’ Ben shouted and dived into the water in all his Sunday best. Then he was there on the raft and his big, kind hands cuddled Perry against his heart. After a while the storm inside Perry quietened and Ben began to talk. Perry kept his eyes shut and listened.

‘Melody is your friend, Perry, just like we are.’ Perry could not believe what he was hearing. Ben Silk was the same as all the others. He would say how much they had enjoyed having Perry, but now it was time for him to go. ‘She wants you to be happy, that’s why she’s come today.’

Perry scrunched his eyes tighter and clamped his hands over his ears again. But the shouting was inside his head.

‘No, no, no!’

Ben firmly peeled Perry’s hands away. ‘We want you to stay with us, Perry,’ he said. ‘That’s why Melody’s come; to make sure that’s what we all want. Is that what you want, Perry? Is it? Will you stay with us?’

11. Of Cake and Thankfulness

Nell was magnificent in the crushed purple cloak she wore when she was Mistress of Ceremonies. In her left hand she held the Sceptre of Office, which was really a shiny brass curtain rod she had borrowed from the front room. She explained she would use it to bang on the table if the people making speeches went on for too long.

It seemed everyone had something to be grateful for on the Day of Cake and Thankfulness. But Ben had the most to say. He wanted to thank everyone and everything. He was thankful for the weather, the food, the visitors and his family. His beautiful Annie kept her arms around his shoulders while he was talking and he kept his arms around Perry. Then he said he had something important to tell them and he stood up in his soggy clothes. Annie put out her arms like Madonna’s wings to Perry and he went to her and sat on her lap.

Ben walked up to the end of the table near Nell and he said, ‘This all happened a long, long time ago. Annie and Nell know the story and now we think you children should know, too.’ He was quiet for a while as though he was remembering how it was all those years ago, then he said, ‘When I was a little boy, my mum couldn’t take care of me.’

Griffin wondered if Nell had been sick; maybe she’d had a broken heart like Mama did after Tishkin died. Daddy went on. ‘I lived with many, many families, sometimes for only a couple of weeks, sometimes longer. I began to wonder if I would ever find a place that I wouldn’t have to leave.’ There were long pauses while Ben told his story, but no-one made a sound. ‘Then one day they sent me to stay with a lady who had once had a husband and two children, but now she had no-one. Together we became a family. We were very happy together, that lady and I — and we still are. Her name is Nell.’

The Rainbow Girls, Griffin and Layla sat in confused silence while their minds whirled with unasked, unanswered questions. It seemed impossible to believe that Ben was not Nell’s real son. Ben continued.

‘Nell shared her home with me and loved me all the time I was growing up but there were … reasons why she couldn’t adopt me.’

What about his name? the children wondered. Nell was a Silk and so was Ben, how could this be? Then Ben explained.

‘When I was old enough I asked Nell if she would mind if I changed my last name to hers.’

Griffin remembered the yellow paper on Easter morning; the promise from Ben that was always the same, signed with his full name. Now he understood it was because of what Nell had done for his daddy.

Ben had already done more than his share of talking but the Mistress of Ceremonies couldn’t see the second hand on the clock, because her eyes had come over all misty. She didn’t gong the table with the Sceptre of Office, but nobody minded when Ben kept going.

‘I haven’t told you this before because Ben Silk is who I am and Nell Silk is my mother and that’s the way it will always be. It’s just that we didn’t start off that way. The reason I’ve told you is because I want you to understand why I’m so incredibly proud of the way you’ve welcomed Perry into our family.’

Then it was the preacher’s turn but he seemed to have forgotten. He sat there in his Hawaiian shirt with the sun shining down on his eggy head and a red balloon bobbing about in the breeze at the back of his chair.

‘You’re next, Reverend,’ said Nell, and the preacher stood up. For a long time he didn’t say a thing, which was most peculiar for the preacher. Then he said, ‘It seems when we are most thankful, words fail us. I am privileged to have shared this special day with all of you and my only wish is that everyone could spend a day in the Kingdom of Silk. It is the closest place on earth to the Kingdom of Heaven.’

When the preacher sat down, Ben took his mouth organ out of his pocket. He emptied the water out of it and began to play a lilting love song and Annie sang the words. Griffin found the first yellow daisies of the season and made them into a crown for Perry, while Layla and the Rainbow Girls danced in their hats and high heels and smiled their Wickedly Watermelon smiles.

Perry Angel didn’t say anything at all on the Day of Cake and Thankfulness, but inside he was very, very thankful and he made up his mind that on the next day he would ask Nell for a whirl on her Hills Hoist.

Some little-known facts about Glenda Millard

When she was young, she used to jump off the roof of her Nana’s shed and try to fly.

Two of her favourite activities now, are hot air ballooning and bike riding. Both of them make her feel a little bit like she’s flying.

She enjoys sucking the chocolate off Clinkers lollies and trying to guess what colour the middles are. Her favourite ones are pink.

Some Sunday mornings, she reads ‘The Wind in the Willows’ out loud, to her husband and her dog, in bed. She thinks they love it.

She and her husband cook sourdough bread and pizza in a wood-fired oven in the back yard.

When she plays her beautiful red piano accordion, her dog goes to sleep inside its case.

A little-known fact about Stephen Michael King

Stephen Michael King loves being barefoot. The main drive behind his becoming a book illustrator was not fame, fortune or artistic integrity. It was simply the most perfect barefoot job he could find.

You can visit Stephen Michael King at: smkbooks.com

Other Books by Glenda Millard

When the Angels Came

Bringing Reuben Home

The Novice

Angel Breath

Mrs Wiggins’ Wartymelons

Applesauce and the Christmas Miracle

The Kingdom of Silk series:

The Naming of Tishkin Silk

Layla, Queen of Hearts

Perry Angel’s Suitcase

All the Colours of Paradise

Plum Puddings and Paper Moons

Copyright

The ABC ‘Wave’ device is a trademark of the
Australian Broadcasting Corporation and is used
under licence by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia.

First published in 2008 by ABC Books for
the Australian Broadcasting Corporation.

This edition published in 2013
by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited

ABN 36 009 913 517
www.harpercollins.com.au

Copyright © Glenda Millard 2008

Copyright © illustrations Stephen Michael King 2008

The right of Glenda Millard and Stephen Michael King to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.

This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

HarperCollinsPublishers

Level 13, 201 Elizabeth Street, Sydney NSW 2000, Australia

31 View Road, Glenfield, Auckland 0627, New Zealand

A 53, Sector 57, Noida, UP, India

77-85 Fulham Palace Road, London W6 8JB, United Kingdom

2 Bloor Street East, 20th floor, Toronto, Ontario M4W 1A8, Canada

10 East 53rd Street, New York NY 10022, USA

National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Print data:

Perry Angel’s Suitcase/author, Glenda Millard;
illustrator Stephen Michael King.

1st ed.

ISBN 978 0 7304 9548 2 (epub)

Self-actualisation (Psychology) – Juvenile fiction.

Signs and symbols – Juvenile fiction.

King, Stephen Michael.

A823.3

Cover design by Ellie Exarchos

Cover illustration by Stephen Michael King