The Starlight Trousers

The Starlight Trousers

On the day before Mum’s birthday, Gran’s took Millie to the market to get Mum’s present. Millie wanted something twinkly because twinkles were Mum’s favourite things.
Millie’s mum was a very big, soft and cuddly lady, lovely for snuggling. Sometimes when Millie snuggled, Mum tickled her until she screamed, and when they were both puffed out Mum sat down and Millie fanned her with the telly mag until they were ready for snuggling again.
Anyway, while Gran was getting herself a cuppa, Millie ran to her favourite market-stall. It was the one where lovely old-fashioned clothes squeezed together on the rail like very thin, beautiful people. Millie stroked a silky orange dress and sniffed. Ahhh, perfume. The red dressing-gown next to it smelled of old cigarettes. Ugh, horrid. She pushed past and there, waiting just for her, were the Amazing, One and Only STARLIGHT TROUSERS.
They were night-time.
Velvet dark with gold stars that sparked in the blue.
And they were huge. Mum sized.
‘How much are these?’ Millie tugged out one twinkly leg and waved it at the market-man.
‘Them?’ he said. He looked at her, then he looked over her head and waved at someone, Millie turned round and saw Gran waving back. ‘Why,’ said the man, ‘you must be… hmmm.’ He rubbed his bristly face while he thought. ‘Yes,’ he said ‘You’re Millie. Am I right?’
Millie nodded. How did he know?
‘I only want two pound for them trousers my beautiful, though I’d ask more from anyone else,’ he said.
‘I think I’ve got two pounds,’ Millie said, pulling out her purse and tipping all her money into his hands. They counted it together and the horridest feeling in all the world came over Millie, when she found she’d only got one pound and ninety-seven pence.
‘It’s not enough,’ she whispered, hugging the soft trousers under her chin, and a big, fat tear ran down her face and glittered on a gold star.
‘Come, come, now,’ the market-man said. ‘What’s three pence among friends my deary? I tell you what,’ he went on. ‘You can have them for one-ninety-five, that’ll give you some change. Everyone needs to keep a few coppers in their purse for a special something, don’t they?’ He smiled. ‘You put those wicked trousers in here.’ He held out a crumpled old Tesco bag.
Millie nodded back. She couldn’t say anything because she was so pleased she thought she might burst. The man dropped a two pence coin in her purse and she grabbed the trousers off the rail and shoved them at the carrier bag.
They didn’t want to go in. They slid round and out of the slippery plastic waving their legs in the air. Millie had quite a fight with them before she got them in, and as she pressed them down she felt something small and hard inside the material so she stopped shoving to look. Right on the ankle was a tiny pocket. And the something-hard was inside the pocket.
Millie peeped at the old man.
He was peeping back. His bushy eyebrows flew up and he winked when he saw her looking.
‘Finders keepers, Wearers seekers,’ he whispered. Then he winked again.
He’d got that rhyme wrong, but Millie didn’t wait to tell him. She hugged the bag and ran round the corner. Behind a wheelie-bin, she pulled out the trousers and held them up. The stars winked like the old man’s eyes. She grabbed for the little pocket, but the trousers swung away and when she took hold of them by one leg and felt round the ankle, there was no pocket because she’d got the wrong leg.
‘Are you being naughty on purpose?’ Millie said, wagging her finger at the trousers. They flapped, and the soft stuff slithered through her hands. She caught them before they reached the ground, but now they’d turned themselves round again and she still couldn’t reach the little pocket. She held them against herself. At the market stall they’d been big enough for Mum, but now they were her size so she shoved one foot inside, then the other, and tugged them up.
They tightened round her ankles, flapped for bit round her knees then settled down over her leggings. The stars twinkled when she crouched down to feel for the pocket. She found it right away, slid her finger inside and hooked out the something-hard.
It was a tiny golden key on a thin chain. Millie held it up. It swung round and round throwing flashes at the sun and she grabbed it. For just one moment the key lay glittering in her hand then she closed her fingers over it and gripped tight. She slid the chain over her head and pushed the key down inside her jumper.
Somewhere, a keyhole waited. Closing her eyes, Millie imagined a box of shining green glass with a golden keyhole that was dark and empty and waiting for her key. Inside the box was…. Well, she couldn’t make up her mind what was inside because it kept changing. Whatever it was, she knew Mum would love it.
‘Where is that box?’ Millie wondered, and pressed her fingers against the key-shape under her jumper.
The trousers sent a tingly, shivery feeling round her ankles and knees. Next moment they jumped her legs into the air and danced her. Skipping and twirling her, they took her through the market.
She spun past the clothes-man.
‘Follow the trousers to your heart’s desire,’ he called after her and blew a kiss. ‘Wearers seekers,’ he reminded her as she whirled away.
‘What’s ‘seekers’?’ Millie gasped, but she was too far away to hear his answer. She tried to send him a kiss back, but her arms flapped too much to do it properly.
The trousers danced her out of the market and down so many streets she was quite lost. She twirled past some very peculiar shops with windows full of wooden toys, and bottles of sweets and funny, old-fashioned bits and pieces. The trousers skipped her into the bits and pieces shop and dropped her on the dusty floor.
‘Whooh,’ Millie puffed, climbing into a fat armchair and sending up a cloud of sneezy dust. Beside the shop counter, a very pretty lady with long curly hair was watching her, and behind the lady was a tall mirror, so her back was watching as well as her bright eyes.
The lady took one of her curls, wrapped it round and round her finger then pulled the end through and made a knot. She was tying knots in her hair! Her hair was full of them, and in the mirror, Millie could see that the back of her hair was very knotty too.
She came towards Millie and the knots jiggled. ‘My name’s Stella Starbright,’ she said. ‘I’ve been waiting ages for you. I’ve spent hours, days and weeks tying knots while I waited for those trousers to bring me a visitor.’ She leaned forwards, and holding out a long curl, tapped Millie on the head with its knot.
‘Now Millie,’ she said. ‘Get out the key.’ And she tapped again.
How did she know my name? Millie thought, as she pulled the chain over her head. ‘It has to go in a golden lock in a green, glass box,’ she told Stella.
‘Ahh,’ Stella said, nodding. ‘But you have to find the box.’
‘Aren’t you going to help me?’ Millie asked.
‘No,’ Stella smiled. ‘But I’ll tell you when you’re warm.’
Millie looked at the shelves filled with vases, dried flowers, bags of marbles and a stuffed bird.
‘Cold, cold, cold,’ Stella called, twirling round so all her knots flew out.
Millie looked at the ceiling, where toy aeroplanes, little baskets and floating mobiles hung in the dusty sunshine.
‘Cold as ice,’ Stella sang.
Millie looked at the counter.
‘Warmer,’ Stella whispered.
Millie looked in the mirror. It showed a cupboard in the back of the counter.
‘Hot, hot, hot,’ Stella laughed and danced to the cupboard.
In the mirror, Millie watched Stella open the cupboard and gently, ever so carefully, lift the shining box onto the counter.
‘Open, open, open,’ Stella sang, waving her knots.
Taking the tiny key, Millie slid it into the golden lock and turned it. There was a loud click and the green lid lifted all by itself. Inside the box lay a long, thin silver thing. It looked a bit like a shiny pencil box for just one pencil.
‘What is it?’ She looked at Stella.
‘What do you want?’ Stella said.
‘Something for Mum,’ Millie whispered. ‘Something sparkly that won’t make her out-of-breathy.’ She lifted the thing and turned it over. She tried to open it, but it slid sideways in her fingers and one end spread into zig-zaggy half circle.
It was a fan.
As it unfolded, Millie saw pictures of roses and tulips and daffodils, all twinkling with glitter and tiny mirrors. When she fanned herself, the twinkles shivered and a lovely, flowery smell floated up.
‘Ohhh, Mum will love it,’ Millie said. She fanned Stella until her hair floated up round her face. One of the knots fell out. Millie fanned her again and another knot dropped, so she kept it up until Stella’s hair was all lovely smooth curls.
‘Thank you,’ Stella said.
Millie reached to take her key from the lock, but the trousers tripped her. They’d gone enormous without her noticing and they’d fallen round her feet. She jumped right out of them and reached for the key again.
‘No,’ Stella said. ‘You’ve had your turn. Now someone else must come seeking.’ She clicked her fingers right in front of Millie’s nose and made her blink, then she picked up some sparkly trousers from the floor and tucked them out of sight behind a mirror.
‘What’s ‘seeking’?’ Millie said. But she couldn’t remember why she asked. She picked up the lovely fan that was lying on the counter. ‘How much is this? she asked.
‘Two,’ the shop-lady said.
‘Two pounds?’ Millie murmured, worried.
‘Two of whatever you have,’ the lady said.
Millie looked inside her purse. ‘I only have two p.’ she said.
‘Perfect.’ The lady took her money and dropped it in a pretty green box on the counter. The box’s lid snapped closed all by itself. ‘Something out, something in,’ the lady said. She turned the box’s key and pulled it out of the lock.
What did she mean? Millie shook her head and picked up her fan.
‘Come this way,’ the lady said, twirling a curl round her finger and pulling it into a knot. She opened a door at the back of the shop and outside Millie saw Gran at the veg stall.
‘Thank you,’ she said to the lady, but she’d gone and so had the door.
Millie hid the fan inside her jumper and ran to Gran. ‘Can we go home now?’ she said, blowing Gran a kiss. ‘I have some very important wrapping up to do.’