The Fairy Bell Sisters: Rosie and the Secret Friend. Margaret McNamara

      You turned the page! What a good choice you’ve made!

      “It’s the Summer People!”

      Rosie heard Silver Bell’s cry and her heart sank. She tried not to think bad thoughts about anyone in the world, but even Rosie could not think too kindly about the Summer People.

      “Now we’ll have to stay in the house all day as they unpack and unload.” Lily sighed deeply. “What a bore.”

      “We could play Go Fish in the Fairy Pond,” said Rosie, “just to pass the time.” Go Fish in the Fairy Pond is very much like our card game called Go Fish, but there are no kings or jacks in the pack and the jokers are trolls. Rosie started to deal.

      Last year’s crop of Summer People had not discovered the fairies’ lovely houses, for their eyes did not know how to see magic and their ears could not hear the music of fairy voices, and that was a blessing.

      “How long has our house stood here, Clara?” Silver asked. “Lily, do you have any… sevens?”

      “A long time, Silver, longer than anyone can remember. Houses are terribly hard to build as young fairy magic does not extend to architecture.”

      “Architecture?” asked Silver.

      “House building,” said Lily. “No sevens. Go fish in the fairy pond.”

      “In fact,” Clara continued, “a long time ago, before any of us popped into the world, the fairies of Sheepskerry Island lived under toadstools.”

      “What are toadstools?” asked Silver.

      “A damp kind of mushroom,” said Rosie.

      “I could not possibly be expected to live under one of those,” said Lily.

      “In those days, Summer People were quite lovely,” Clara went on. “There were only a few of them and they lived very simply. They built the six cottages that are on Sheepskerry now: Newcastle, Arrowhead, Clearwater, Windy Corner, Sea Glass and White Rose Cottage.”

      “White Rose Cottage is my favourite,” said Rosie with a sigh.

      “Of course, the cottages have gotten much bigger and fancier now,” said Clara.

      “Except for White Rose—” said Rosie.

      “Because the Summer People have changed. The grown-ups at least.”

      “Clara, do you have any queens?” asked Lily. She looked out of the window of the great room. “Do you suppose Queen Mab is enjoying her holiday?”

      “I’m sure she is,” said Clara. “No queens.”

      “It is funny not to have her here,” said Silver, touching the necklace Queen Mab had given her after the Fairy Ball not long ago. “Maybe I could fly over to Heart Island sometime and just drop in.”

      “I don’t think so,” said Lily as she rearranged her cards.

      “Please, can we get back to the story now?” asked Rosie.

      Clara started again. “Back in those days,” she said, “children looked for fairies every morning when the dew was still fresh on the spiders’ webs. Summer Children and fairies played together. Of course, the fairies did not really show themselves – or not too much, anyway – but they left little gifts for the Summer Children and the Summer Children left gifts for them.”

      Rosie looked over at the fireplace mantelpiece in their great room. There was a tiny seashell on it, painted bright pink.

      “That was a gift from a long-ago Summer Child,” said Rosie. “She gave it to Tinker Bell or at least that’s how the story goes.” No one was quite sure whether that was true, but they liked to believe it was.

      “The Summer Children’s greatest gift was the Fairy Village in Cathedral Pines.”

      “Pah-pah!” said Squeak.

      “Yes, Squeakie. It is rather amazing. Summer Children built our fairy houses, one for every family of fairy sisters who live on Sheepskerry. And it’s those houses we live in to this very day.”

      The sisters paused to think about those long-ago days. Their thoughts were interrupted by a clattering din coming from the dock, where the Summer People were arriving on the ferry. Lily peered out of the window. “Now the Summer People are horrible,” she said. “They’re especially horrible on Moving-In Day. We’ll be trapped in this house until nightfall because of them.”

      “I’m sure they don’t mean to be so thoughtless,” said Rosie.

      “I’m sure they do,” said Lily. “They spoil everything, every year.” And she put her cards down. “It’s no use,” she said. “I can’t concentrate with all this noise. Let’s hide up in Tall Birch and watch them.”

      The Summer People were unloading the ferry and carrying all of their many possessions up the paths to the cottages. It took a long time as Sheepskerry Island had no roads and no horrible metal monsters (“They’re called ‘automobiles’,” said Clara). The Summer People filled up wheelbarrows to bring their boxes and bags, trunks and trinkets to the cottages on the island.

      Silver flew up to a lookout post. “Looks like there are five families this year so one cottage will be empty,” she called down to her sisters. “That’s a relief.”

      “Wuh!” said Squeak.

      “Yes, I’d love to do something about it, Squeakie,” said Rosie. “But there’s nothing we can do. We must just put up with them as best we can. Five families is an awful lot.” She sighed. “But I suppose it’s better than six. Be careful up there, Silver!”

      “I wonder why they need to bring so much stuff.”

      “And why must they make such a racket?” asked Lily. “Don’t they know how sensitive we are?”

      “Come down at once, Silver,” called Clara. “You mustn’t be seen.”

      “Just one more minute—”

      “Now, Silver,” said Rosie.

      Silver flew down from the birch as her sister told her. “I wouldn’t mind flying into a cottage while they’re in there, just to see what the cottages are like when the Summer People are inside them,” she said. “I could sneak up on—”

      “Oh dear me, no,” said Rosie, as crossly as she knew how (which wasn’t very crossly at all). “You mustn’t do anything like that. The Summer People are to be kept away from at all costs.”

      “Rosie’s quite right,” said Lily. “If these human people were to see our magic and discover that fairies live here, they’d tell all their friends who’d come and hunt for us with those telescope things—”

      “Cameras.”

      “Yes, with cameras and torches and rakes and goodness knows what else. And that will be the end of us.”

      “But if we—”

      “Hush, Silver, that’s enough,”