‘Go on,’ he urged, straining under her weight. ‘Open it.’
His sharp hands were digging into her armpits, so Lana quickly lifted the lid. Unlike the other tubs, this one was almost empty. Only a small cluster of sherbet lemons clung to the bottom, like hibernating beetles.
‘Mmm, lovely,’ she offered. ‘Can I get down now?’
‘Try one.’
Lana leant forward into the tub and tried to loosen a sweet with her finger, but it was no use. Then, suddenly, she was tumbling forward! The little old man was pushing her into the tub!
‘Hey!’ called Lana in alarm. ‘Stop it!’
But it was too late! She threw out her hands ahead of her to brace her fall, but the bottom of the tub gave way like a trapdoor, and Lana found herself shooting down and round into a smooth-walled circular chute! Round and round she slid, until suddenly the chute plunged down, down, down into the darkness.
‘Lana found herself shooting down and round into a smooth-walled circular chute!’
Chapter Five
Lana clamped her eyes shut in terror as she whistled head first into the darkness, sure that she was about to smash into the ground at any second. Then, just when it felt as if she could go no faster, the chute began to spiral rapidly, slowing her little by little, until it yawned open, spitting her out onto what felt like an enormous soft cushion.
For a few minutes Lana lay there, flat on her back in the pitch black, her chest heaving, and her nose full of an odd aroma that she decided could only be cheese. She propped herself up onto her elbows. Was she still in one piece? She wiggled her fingers and toes. Nothing broken, so far as she could tell.
‘Hello?’ she said nervously. Her voice sounded flat and dull, as if she was in some sort of enclosed space. Checking that she was clear of the chute, she pushed herself up into a seated position. Cautiously, she crawled forward. Thunk! Her forehead hit something hard, and a door in front of her swung open to reveal a light so bright that she had to shield her eyes.
It was a candelabra, ablaze with candles!
Lana looked around. It appeared she was perched in a high cupboard, looking down onto an enormous circular old-fashioned kitchen. What’s more, she was completely surrounded by cheeses. And the ‘cushion’ that had broken her fall was in fact an extremely ripe Camembert.
Where on earth was she?
‘Hello?’ Lana called. ‘Is there anybody there?’
No one answered. A waft of sweet-smelling pastry curled at her nostrils and, looking down, she saw that immediately below her was a large table, laden with tray after tray of mouth-watering jam tarts. Someone must be nearby, she thought. These look like they are straight out of the oven.
And the jam tarts were just the beginning. As Lana looked around it seemed the entire kitchen was bursting with food: roast lamb with rosemary, fresh-baked pies with butter-glazed crusts, mouth-watering jellies seeded with fruit, cream horns with dollops of raspberry jam and a mountain of pillow-soft ham sandwiches.
She dangled one leg over the edge of the shelf. It was a long way down.
‘Could someone help me?’ she called.
It really was very quiet and still. Something wasn’t right, she was sure of it. She felt a prickly feeling on her arm and pulled back her sleeve. Goosebumps.
‘Hello?’ she said again, a little more warily.
There was nothing for it; she would have to get down by herself. She turned, so that she was facing backwards, then lay down on her tummy to lower her legs onto the table.
At least that was what she planned to do. Unfortunately, kick, dangle and swing as she might, the table top was nowhere to be found. So, she lowered herself a bit more, then a bit more, until she realised too late that there was more of her off the shelf than on it, and the next thing she knew she was landing hard on her bottom on a rack of scalding-hot jam tarts.
‘Ow! Ooh! Argh!’ panted Lana, hopping down from the table, and brushing off the sticky jam tarts as quickly as she could.
Her heart skipped a beat. Now she was on the ground, she could see there was a large alcove in the kitchen wall, and sitting with their backs to her were what could only be a cook and a kitchen boy. Except they weren’t moving. All that noise and they hadn’t budged an inch.
‘Oh, hello,’ said Lana politely. ‘I didn’t see you there.’
Still neither of them moved.
‘I fell down the trapdoor,’ tried Lana again, edging forward. ‘The one in the supermarket.’
But wait. Now she was closer, Lana could see that they were both asleep. The cook was slumped in a chair, and the kitchen boy was snoozing in front of the fire, although the flames appeared to be motionless.
Summoning all her courage, Lana stepped forward, and gently shook the cook by the shoulder.
‘Excuse me? Can you help me?’
But the cook showed no sign of waking, so she did the same to the kitchen boy. Both of them were fast asleep.
Lana gulped nervously. Where was she?
Her eye caught the clock on the wall. It had stopped dead.
Suddenly she remembered her father! He was waiting for her at the checkout. Wherever she was, she mustn’t stay long because she was already in trouble for loading the trolley with all that sugar… But on the other hand, this place was so fascinating she couldn’t leave without exploring a little…
Lana looked around. The sand in the hourglass on the countertop had stopped mid-pour, and the flames in the oven were frozen stiff, like the petals of a giant flower. Over by the sink, something caught the light, and she took a step closer to investigate. Sure enough, a water drop had fallen from the tap, and was now suspended in mid-air, inches above the plughole.
And, what was that on the floor? She crept closer, and her mouth fell open in astonishment. It was a little brown mouse, lying flat on its back, its eyes clamped shut, and its mouth wide open. It was fast asleep!
It was all so strange!
Was she dreaming?
She tiptoed forward into a passageway that led out of the kitchen. The walls were lit by torches, but just like the fire in the oven, their flames were perfectly still. Someone – or something – was sitting on the floor, and as Lana edged closer, she discovered a tall, thin man, his back propped up against the wall, snoring heartily. Wedged between his legs was an enormous chocolate cake, lighting his face with its fifteen unwavering candles.
Was everyone in this place asleep?
The corridor wound left, then right, then led out into an enormous brightly lit hall. A gargantuan banquet table stretched the entire length of the room, crowded with unmoving guests. Each and every one was out for the count: some with their heads on the table, some leaning on the shoulder of the guest next to them; others curled up on the floor. And there, just in front of the giant castle doors, slumped back to back, were the king and queen, surrounded by an entourage of sleeping courtiers.
Lana had never seen a real king or queen before, and for a moment she too froze as still as a statue. Plucking up her courage, she crept towards them. The queen’s throat glittered with jewels and her hair was wet, as if she had been swimming. The king was wearing a golden crown, and in his hand was a loaded wooden crossbow. To Lana’s astonishment, a little brown bird fluttered out of nowhere and settled on the tip of the arrow, making her jump. It turned its head and stared at her with a beady brown eye.