‘Grandma! Grandma! There’s a BIG mystery.’
My granddaughter’s voice echoed from my computer and her excited face appeared on the screen.
Behind her, my daughter laughed. ‘I said Grandma might know the answer.’
‘I’ll try. What’s the mystery?’
‘Coming home from the shops we saw a big piece of broccoli just sitting there. How did it get there, Grandma?’
I thought quickly. ‘Perhaps it fell from someone’s shopping basket,’ I told her, ‘or maybe one of your kind neighbours put it out to feed the magic unicorns?’
‘Oh, Grandma! You solved the mystery.’ She gave a satisfied sigh and went on to tell me about her brother’s new tooth before her forehead wrinkled, ‘But which neighbour, Grandma?’
I was saved from replying when my daughter called her to dinner.
Sarah trudged home from the shops, lugging her heavy basket. She was tired. She felt glum and miserable. They were in covid-lockdown again, only allowed to go to shopping for essentials. The library was closed and she couldn’t even borrow new books to ease the boredom.
‘Excuse me!’ The golden-haired moppet from across the road called out to her. She often saw her with her mother and little brother on the way to the shops.
‘Did you leave the broccoli out for the magic unicorns?’ The little girl asked.
Her mother nodded hopefully.
Sarah smiled. ‘Oh, yes. We can’t have magic unicorns going hungry.’
‘Hooray! My Grandma solved the mystery.’ The little girl clapped her hands.
Her mother mouthed a thank you and they continued on to the shops.
Sarah unpacked her shopping and made a cup of tea. She took a sip and suddenly had an idea.
As a child she loved writing stories. She wanted to be a writer but life got in the way. But perhaps… if she couldn’t borrow books from the library, maybe she could write stories instead.
She found a pen and notepad and began to write. Tales of magical unicorns, fairies and elves.
She would write her own books. And she knew exactly who would receive the first copy.