Amelia Fang and the Trouble with Toads
For Ali. You wonderful creature of the dark and light! FANG-K YOU for believing in Amelia’s pumpkin-shaped dreams from the very first dark and gloomy Wednesday night in Nocturnia xxx
First published in Great Britain in 2020
by Egmont Books UK Limited
2 Minster Court, London EC3R 7BB
www.egmontbooks.co.uk
Text and illustrations copyright © 2020 Laura Ellen Anderson
The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted
ISBN 978 1 4052 9769 1
eBook ISBN 978 1 4052 9770 7
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Dedication and Copyright
MAP OF THE POND BEYOND
MEET THE NOCTURNIANS AND GLITTEROPOLANS
1. THE FRANKENFLU
2. SCYTHE COSY
3. EVERYTHING WAS PERFECT
4. WE’RE TOADALLY READY
5. TOADS DON’T FART
6. ABSOTOADALLY FROGULOUS
7. POSITIVELY PERFECT!
8. CLEAN AND TIDY AND PERFECT!
9. TOADLING TOWERS
10. TOADLING 5.0.
11. PINK’S NOT WHAT YOU THINK
12. YOU ARE NOT TOADS
13. TOGETHER
14. A TOASTED CRUMPET
15. MY SISTER
16. TRUMPET SOLO
17. RICKY AND GRAHAM SAVE THE DAY . . . AGAIN!
18. TO THE PONDS AND BEYOND
Back series promotional page
It was a particularly misty Friday night in Nocturnia, and young vampire Amelia Fang was getting ready for a fangtastic weekend ahead. Tomorrow was Grimaldi’s birthnight! Grimaldi was one of Amelia’s best friends in the whole world.
‘We’re going to enjoy a deadly dinner, then we’re going to play games and THEN watch the newest TOADSTAR movie!’ Amelia said excitedly to her mother, Countess Frivoleeta. ‘And I’ve made Grimaldi an EXTRA special gift. A model of me, Grimaldi, Florence and Tangine standing under the Petrified-Tree- That-Looks-Like-a-Unicorn.’
‘It all sounds delightfully dreadful, my awful little popsicle,’ said the countess. She was sitting at the kitchen table feeding Amelia’s baby brother Vincent a bowl of mashed brain. It was his favourite dish, mostly because he loved to BOSH the spoon out of his mother’s hand and then laugh hysterically. This time he also did a big smelly poo in his nappy.
Amelia was quite looking forward to having a break from her baby brother. Although she loved Vincent VERY MUCH, he was the slimiest, pongiest thing Amelia had ever known. And if the family took their eyes off him for even one second, he would roll away, or climb into the bin or rub his grimy hands over everything.
Yesternight, he’d smeared spider-leg stew over Amelia’s limited-edition signed The Pumpkin Whisperer book. And last week he ate her homework, which was very embarrassing to have to tell her teacher. But at least this weekend she wouldn’t have to worry about any of that.
Amelia spent the rest of the night packing her pumpkin backpack. But as she took her favourite pumpkin dress off its clothes hanger, she gasped. There was a great big slobbery hole at the bottom! She recognised that slobber: a mixture of mashed brain and snot . . .
‘Viiiiiiiiinceeeeent!’ she cried, stomping down the stairs and into the kitchen. ‘Mum! Vincent has chewed a hole in my favourite pumpkin dress! He must have done it when he crawled into the washing machine last week.’ She frowned at her little brother, who stretched out his grime-covered arms towards her. ‘No hugs for you right now! You’ve been very naughty!’ Amelia slumped on to the kitchen chair. Her pet pumpkin Squashy pa-doinged on to her lap and nuzzled into her belly. ‘At least I can rely on you not to chew holes in my best clothes,’ she muttered.
‘Oh, my lovely little boil-burster,’ the countess said softly. ‘Try not to be cross with your brother. He’s only little.’
‘But he ruins all my nice stuff!’ fumed Amelia. ‘I even found bum-prints on my pumpkin magazines!’
The countess stroked Amelia’s cheek. ‘Your brother might seem very annoying right now, but you’d miss all the snot and sticky patches if he wasn’t here.’
‘I would NOT,’ said Amelia grumpily, as Vincent tipped the entire contents of his lukewarm armpit sweat-shake into his nappy.
‘I know he IS a bit messy,’ chuckled Countess Frivoleeta. ‘But so was another little vampire I know when she was a baby.’ She winked. ‘Plus, you love to make a mess in your bedroom when you’re working on your pumpkin creations.’
‘That’s different,’ said Amelia. ‘I’m making a mess for a reason. THEN I tidy it up.’
The countess smiled. ‘Be patient, darkling. He’s not doing it on purpose.’ She gave Amelia a kiss on the head. ‘He adores you, you know.’
Vincent blinked at Amelia, then ripped off his nappy and threw it across the room.
‘Anyway, at least you will have an amazing weekend with your friends,’ said the countess. ‘I’ve got a million things to do, what with your father and Wooo stuck in bed with the Frankenflu. They’ve gone through almost thirty-nine boxes of tissues between them in two days!’
The next moonrise, Amelia was gobbling down her Unlucky Arms cereal, ready to rush off to Grimaldi’s birthnight party. She couldn’t wait for a whole weekend of brother-free fun!
Countess Frivoleeta hobbled into the kitchen. Her usual beehive hairdo was looking more like a bird’s nest and she was wrapped up in a velvet dressing gown. ‘Darkling,’ she croaked. ‘I think I’ve caught the – the – the – ACHOO!’
‘Oh no!’ said Amelia. ‘You’ve got the Frankenflu too?’
‘I’m afraid so, my little nugget of flesh,’ said the countess, blowing her nose and making her eyeballs bulge. ‘Could you be a darkling and look after Vincent?’
Amelia looked at her mother with horror. ‘But it’s Grimaldi’s birthnight!’ she cried.
‘I’m so sorry, darkling,’ said Countess Frivoleeta. ‘Could you take Vincent with you? I’m going to have to go to bed. And I’d hate for either of you to catch this yucky Frankenflu.’
Amelia sighed. It was the last thing she wanted, but she knew she had to help her mum out. ‘No worries,’ she said quietly. ‘It’ll be totally fine . . .’
Out of the corner of her eye, Amelia spotted a stream of yellow liquid flying through the air. Just in time, she picked up the nearest saucepan and used it as a wee catcher. ‘Totally fine,’ she said with a very strained smile.
‘Happy birthnight!’ cried Amelia as Grimaldi Reaperton opened the door of his family barge.
‘Ameeeelia!’ said Grimaldi. ‘Florence and Tangine are already inside . . . You’d better hurry before Tangine eats the WHOLE bowl of snail-tail snotcorn!’ Then he caught sight of Vincent in his coffin pram. ‘Oh, hello, Vincent!’
Amelia shuffled awkwardly. ‘I had to bring him along, I hope you don’t mind,’ she said. ‘Mum, Dad and Wooo all have the Frankenflu, so there’s nobody to look after him. And I wasn’t going to miss your birthnight for the world!’
‘It’s fine!’ Grimaldi said, happily ushering Amelia into the barge, with Squashy bouncing behind her. ‘The more the merrier!’
Amelia wasn’t so sure Grimaldi would still feel that way after a few hours with Vincent, but she smiled and nodded anyway.
Countess Frivoleeta had called ahead to ask Grimaldi’s parents if they would keep an eye on the baby. So as well as making a delightfully deadly birthnight dinner for Grimaldi, Grimardo and Grimelda had made Vincent a special bowl of mashed brain. Much to Amelia’s embarrassment, her brother farted constantly, so that the room was soon filled with a disgusting smell. Everyone pretended not to notice.
‘He’s getting so big,’ cooed Grimelda, tickling Vincent under the chin. ‘Aren’t you just the cutest? You must be one very proud big sister, Amelia.’
Amelia didn’t feel very proud of Vincent at that moment. Luckily her mouth was too full to answer. She smiled and carried on munching her chocolate-covered eyeball dessert.
A few moments later, Grimardo donked his scythe on the ground twice. ‘Present time!’ he sang. The friends cheered.
‘WOOOOO! THE BEST PART!’ said Florence Spudwick. Florence was a huge, rare breed of yeti (NOT to be confused with a beast). She rummaged around under the table and pulled out a small parcel. ‘WRAPPING PRESENTS ISN’T MY SPECIALITY,’ she said sheepishly. ‘THE ONLY RAPPING I’M GOOD AT IS IF IT’S IN A SONG.’
Vincent tried to grab the present as Florence passed it over. ‘NOT FOR YOUR STICKY PAWS, YA MUNCHKIN!’ Florence chuckled.
Grimaldi tore open the paper and pulled out what looked like a misshapen bobble hat. ‘Oooh, thank you, Florence!’
‘What is it, my little petrifying pickle?’ asked Grimelda, leaning across the table.
Grimaldi studied the strange object. ‘Um, Florence . . .?’
‘IT’S A SCYTHE COSY!’ said Florence. ‘LOOK . . .’ She grabbed Grimaldi’s scythe and placed the hat on the blade. ‘KEEPS IT NICE ’N’ WARM, Y’SEE.’
‘Well, I never knew I needed one of those until now,’ said Grimaldi with a grin.
‘My gift next!’ said Tangine, standing up dramatically. He flicked his mop of glittery white hair and fluttered his eyelashes. Prince Tangine La Floofle the First was the future king of Nocturnia. As well as thinking himself one of the greatest creatures alive, he was also one of Amelia’s greatest friends. ‘Grimaldi, darling, you WILL love this. And this is most definitely something you NEED.’
He handed over a very neatly wrapped package. Grimaldi opened it and studied the decorative label on the shiny-looking can. ‘Pop . . . up . . . wardrobe?’ he read out loud. ‘I . . . I don’t know what to say.’
‘It does exactly what it says on the tin,’ said Tangine happily. ‘You press the little button on the top and POOF, there’s your own portable wardrobe whenever you need it! I took the liberty of filling it up for you.’
Grimaldi put the pop-up wardrobe tin down carefully so as not to trigger it. ‘Erm, thanks, Tangine!’
‘My turn,’ said Amelia, feeling very excited. She reached under her chair, where she’d been hiding Grimaldi’s gift . . . but it was gone.
‘Where is it?’ she said, confused.
‘Galloping gooseberries!’ cried Grimelda, ‘and where’s Vincent?’
His chair was empty and Amelia tried hard not to scream with frustration. ‘He’s probably just rolled off – and I think he’s taken Grimaldi’s present with him. Let’s check the toilet and the bin. He loves finding the yuckiest places to hide.’
‘THAT’S SOME STEALTHY SPEED-ROLLING!’ chuckled Florence, checking the bin.
‘He does it ALL the time!’ said Amelia.
‘Found him!’ came Grimardo’s relieved voice. ‘You were right, Amelia . . . he was in the toilet, the sneaky little bean!’ He returned carrying Vincent, who was now covered in toilet water and happily chewing on a small black box . . .
‘Sorry it’s a bit sticky,’ said Amelia, prying the box out of Vincent’s grip and giving it to Grimaldi. ‘I made it,’ she said, handing over her gift. Grimaldi gently untied the string.
Everyone watched eagerly as the young reaper opened his present. He reached inside.
‘Do you like it?’ asked Amelia.
Grimaldi passed her the box. Inside was a pile of broken pieces of clay. Amelia stared at the ruined gift in silence.
‘Is it an abstract piece?’ asked Tangine curiously.
Amelia lowered the box. ‘I just need to use the toilet,’ she said quietly, before swiftly leaving the room.
There was a gentle knock on the door.
‘Amelia?’ came Grimaldi’s voice. ‘Are you OK?’
Amelia tried to make it look as if she hadn’t been crying. She opened the bathroom door and forced a smile. ‘Yep, I’m fine!’ she said in an unnaturally high voice.
‘Oh, Amelia,’ said Grimaldi, giving her a hug. Grimaldi was exceptionally good at hugs, and sometimes all you really needed was a cuddle.
Amelia leaned her head on Grimaldi’s shoulder. ‘In case you were wondering, that crushed mess was actually the four of us standing under our favourite petrified tree. I spent ages making it out of eye-crust clay.’ She sniffed. ‘Vincent ruins EVERYTHING. I just wanted to give you the perfect present.’
Grimaldi shook his head and smiled. ‘Amelia, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.’ He passed her a tissue. ‘We can fix it together. It’ll be fun! Now come on, let’s go watch the new Toadstar film!’
The friends snuggled up on Grimaldi’s bed to watch Toadstar: Toadally Awesome, whilst Grimaldi’s parents took care of Vincent in the unliving room. But it was hard to enjoy the film with Vincent’s loud screams echoing through the barge. Grimelda floated into the bedroom holding the distressed baby, looking rather distressed herself. Vincent held out his arms, making grabby hands at Amelia.
‘I think he wants to be with his big sister,’ said Grimelda. ‘He rolled into the bin and got leftover dinner all over him, so I’ve popped his clothes in the wash and I’ve put one of Grimaldi’s old toad onesies on for now . . . I hope that’s OK.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Reaperton,’ said Amelia, taking the gurgling baby vampire. As soon as Vincent was in Amelia’s lap, he stopped crying and started trying to eat her hair. She frowned at him and said, ‘Vincent Fang, you really need to stay quiet whilst we watch this film, okay?’
Vincent screeched back at her with joy, a bubble of snot slowly emerging from his left nostril.
‘Maybe this will keep him amused?’ said Grimaldi, handing Vincent a Toadstar toy. Vincent immediately began to gnaw on the toy’s head.
‘Oh no, Vincent, you mustn’t –’ Amelia objected, but Grimaldi waved a hand.
‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘Let him keep it if he wants . . . I have two of those.’
‘Thanks, Grimaldi,’ said Amelia.
They clicked PLAY on the film, but Vincent squealed excitedly every time Toadstar appeared on the screen, and he was in every scene. He kept pointing at his Toadstar toy and then back at the television screen, getting louder and louder.
‘Shhhh, Vincent, yes it’s Toadstar . . . but you have to be quiet,’ said Amelia desperately. But then Vincent threw up EVERYWHERE. So the film had to be stopped.
‘WHY DON’T WE READ SOME COMICS INSTEAD?’ Florence suggested.
As the friends took turns to read from a TOADSTAR comic, Vincent grabbed the pages and ripped them.
‘Seriously, Vincent, you’re ruining everything!’ shouted Amelia. The baby vampire’s eyes grew wide and filled with tears. ‘No, no, don’t start crying,’ Amelia pleaded. But it was too late. Vincent’s wails rattled the windows and made the whole barge sway.
‘I FINK MY EARDRUM JUST POPPED . . .’ said Florence, covering her ears with her huge, fluffy paws.
‘All of this noise is going to make my hair frizzy!’ cried Tangine.
‘Why don’t we go for a walk?’ suggested Grimaldi. ‘Perhaps some fresh night air would be good for everyone.’
‘It’s particularly good for the nose pores,’ said Tangine, who’d been applying face cream at every opportunity.
Once Vincent was tucked up in his coffin pram, snug in his fluffy toad onesie, Amelia and her friends set out into the low mists of the Petrified Forest. The Reaperton barge was docked on the River Styx in a beautifully gloomy part of the wood. The full moon shone through the trees as the friends strolled through the crispy dead leaves. It was so peaceful. Then Amelia realised something. Vincent wasn’t crying. He was finally fast asleep!
Florence glanced over with a glint in her eyes and said, ‘FANG, ARE YOU FINKING WHAT I’M FINKING? ZOMBIE TAAAAAG!!’
Amelia parked up the coffin pram next to a tree. Vincent was still fast asleep, hugging his new Toadstar toy. She could finally have some baby-free fun! Moments later, the friends and Squashy were running around, playing a game of extreme zombie tag. It mostly involved finding zombies and high-fiving them without knocking their limbs off. You lost points for every fallen limb. As Amelia caught her breath, she took a moment to take in the fresh night air. For the first time that night she felt relaxed. It was just Amelia and her best friends. Everything was perfect!
But then Grimaldi’s die-phone started to buzz. ‘Oh, pleeease don’t let this be a squished toad alert . . . Not on my birthnight,’ he said, taking the phone out of his pocket. ‘Oh, someone is calling me,’ he said looking confused. ‘That hardly ever happens . . .
‘Erm, hello?’ said Grimaldi. ‘Oh, hi, fountess, I mean Mrs Crivoleeta . . . Um, hold on . . . Amelia, it’s your mum.’ Grimaldi passed over the phone. ‘Why can I NEVER get her name right?’ he muttered.
‘Hi, Mum,’ said Amelia. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘I feel like as lug in salt water, darkling,’ croaked the countess. ‘Your dad and Wooo are both feeling a little better though. I hope you’re having fun with your friends?’
‘I am now,’ said Amelia happily. Squashy squeaked once and waggled his stalk from side to side. ‘Squashy says hello too!’
‘What a good little pumpkin,’ said Countess Frivoleeta. ‘And how’s Vincent?’
‘Vincent’s just fine,’ Amelia said, strolling over to his coffin pram.
But Vincent’s pram was empty.
‘Amelia?’ came Countess Frivoleeta’s voice from the handset. ‘Darkling? Are you there?’
‘Errrm . . .’ Amelia hesitated, her eyes wide..
Florence took the phone from her. ‘AMELIA JUST ’AD TO, ER, GO CHANGE ’IS NAPPY,’ she fibbed and hung up.
Amelia blinked hard and took a deep breath. ‘Okay . . .’ she squeaked. ‘He probably just rolled off . . . Let’s search EVERYWHERE.’
Amelia, Florence, Grimaldi and Tangine searched the forest high and low for baby Vincent. Squashy bounced and sniffed around every corner, through the leaves and amongst the tree roots.
But Amelia’s baby brother was nowhere to be seen.
‘Viiiiiinceeeent!’ she called out.
‘VIIIIIINCEEEEENT!’ Florence yelled.
‘Here!’ shouted Tangine. Amelia ran over with Squashy following close behind and saw Tangine pointing at the ground. ‘Look . . . the leaves are parted and flattened, like something has been rolling through them. And it’s all sticky and a bit stinky!’
‘Follow that trail!’ said Amelia urgently, sprinting along the path. Her heart thumping in her chest, she ran and ran – but then the trail stopped. It had led them to a large cluster of strange-looking curly plants. There was a wooden sign saying, ‘TOADS ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT’, and underneath the sign was Vincent’s Toadstar toy. Amelia gasped and was about to step through the curly plants, but Grimaldi stopped her, looking worried.
‘Um, Amelia, stop. These are toadreeds,’ he said. ‘Only toads can go through here.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Amelia, feeling confused. ‘But Vincent’s gone that way!’
‘WHY CAN’T WE GO FRU?’ asked Florence, looking from Amelia to Grimaldi.
Grimaldi twizzled his cloak hood nervously. ‘Through the toadreeds is where reapers send squished toads to start their second life . . . Like toad paradise.’ He nodded towards the sign. ‘It’s strictly toads only.’
‘Pottering pumpkins,’ said Amelia, feeling horrified. ‘I was supposed to look after Vincent, and now he might be lost in toad paradise!’
‘He might not be! There’s one way to find out for sure.’ Grimaldi shuffled around in his pocket and pulled out his die-phone. He pushed some buttons and the screen filled with numbers.