Like Magic

Prologue

November 1960

The arrival of Petunia Evans, three years, six days, four hours and three minutes after her older sister Lily, was not entirely welcomed by her parents. Geoffrey and Violet Evans had felt that their family of three was the perfect size, particularly since they also felt that Lily was the perfect baby. In fact, Mrs Evans had been a bit perturbed to learn that her family was increasing by one. She had felt that any addition to the group would be in the pet division.

Mrs Evans was less than pleased for any number of reasons, really. Her pregnancy had been particularly difficult, and the day Petunia was born was cold, dark and very easily the rainiest day Surrey had seen in some time.

It seemed that the only member of the family pleased with the new arrival was Lily. She was beside herself with joy that she was going to have some company in the house - particularly that the child was a sister, and Lily could imagine telling all sorts of giggly secrets late at night with this new sibling.

Petunia was a thin baby with an unnaturally long neck. She was red and squirmy, and never seemed to stop screaming. In fact, whenever Mrs Evans attempted to hold her, Petunia would scream all the louder, and Mr Evans was forced to bounce the baby in his arms in an attempt to settle her.

"Lily had a prettier nose," sniffed Mrs Evans. "And she wasn't as thin and bony as this one here."

"Lily had an easier time of it - as did you, Violet," said Mr Evans. The baby in his arms ceased crying for a moment, and both adults held their breath, hoping the tears had finally stopped. No such luck - the baby inhaled deeply and began her screaming again, this time even louder.

"It was such a lovely day," said Mrs Evans dreamily. "Do you remember how everyone in the hospital commented on how Lily's complexion was perfect? Such a pearl!"

"So shall we be calling this one Rose, dear?" asked Mr Evans.

Mrs Evans sniffed. "Not Rose! No, I rather think Petunia. They're horribly fussy flowers, always needing a bit of a pinch." And seeing that the baby had suddenly taken hold of her father's tie, twisting it in her fingers, Mrs Evans reached over a tweaked the girl's arm a little. The baby was so shocked at the sudden contact that she stopped crying, and stared in shock at her mother. Mrs Evans smiled. "You see! Petunia. It's perfect."

* * * * *

Petunia continued to cry for the first entire week of her life, almost without ceasing. Mrs Evans was at her wits end. She had walked the baby for endless hours, and had given her so many bottles that she had run out of formula in the first two days. Nothing would induce the child to quiet. Worst of all was trying to keep Lily away from the screaming infant, for Mrs Evans was certain that whatever plagued the baby would somehow transfer to her elder and more perfect daughter.

"No, Lily-bud," she cautioned the girl. "She's very little and she might pull your hair."

"She wouldn't mean it, Mummy - please can't I hold her?"

"It's time for her nap," said Mrs Evans firmly. "And you aren't to disturb her. I want quiet. We can go into the garden and draw pictures, wouldn't that be nice?"

Mrs Evans closed the door to the smallest bedroom next to the chimney where Petunia had been placed and took her elder daughter by the hand, leading her outside. They could still hear the baby screaming from inside the house. Lily looked back towards the window, a concerned look crossing her face.

"Mummy, I left my blue pencil inside, may I go find it?"

"Yes, dear, hurry back now," said Mrs Evans absently, concentrating on her roses.

Lily jumped up and ran back inside the house. Mrs Evans continued drawing for several minutes before she realized that she could no longer hear Petunia cry. I suppose the brat has finally fallen asleep, she thought, relieved. It was several more minutes spent sketching before she realized that Lily had not returned.

"Lily?" she called out in a stage whisper, entering the house again. She began to climb the steps to the second level. "Lily, did you find your pencil?"

The door to Petunia's room was slightly ajar, and Mrs Evans peered in. There was Lily, standing next to the cot, chin resting on the mattress and her finger in the baby's tight fist.

"You're not so sad now, are you Pets, that I'm here? I'm so glad you came, I was awful lonely and I hoped and wished you would come and here you are."

Mrs Evans frowned. "Lily! I hardly think your blue pencil would be in the baby's cot."

Lily jumped and turned to her mother. "Mummy! Pets was crying - "

"Her name is Petunia, Lily-bud," corrected Mrs Evans.

"She stopped crying and fell asleep the moment she took my finger!" said Lily excitedly.

Mrs Evans peered into the cot. Sure enough, the baby was fast asleep and even a little less red and pimply. "I suspect she just tired of crying," said Mrs Evans, annoyed. She glanced at Lily, who looked terribly pleased with herself. Mrs Evans smiled at her daughter. "Lily-bud, come along and I'll give you some biscuits," she cajoled her daughter. "You must stay outside so that the baby can sleep. I saw your friend Peter in his garden, you may take some to him as well." And she led her daughter out of the bedroom and she shut the door a little too hard, but the baby didn't wake.

Lily skipped out into the garden, very proud of her success making Petunia fall asleep, and hoping that her mother was merely annoyed that she hadn't returned with her pencil and not that she had managed to quiet the baby. She peered over the fence into the garden next door - and there was Peter poking at his mother's pumpkins with his stick.

"Peter!" called out Lily. "I have biscuits!"

Peter turned to her. "Your mum's biscuits taste too sweet," he said, but was climbing over the fence anyway. He took his play-stick and flicked it, and two of the biscuits in Lily's hand leaped to his own. Lily laughed. Peter plopped down on the grass beneath the rose bush and began to munch his biscuits.

"Peter, guess what is in my house right now?"

"No, tell me."

"I wished very hard like you told me, and there's a baby sister in the other bedroom now."

Peter sat up straighter. "It worked? Maybe I should try it."

"Do you want to see her?" asked Lily. "She's asleep."

"Yeah, can I?" asked Peter eagerly, and the two children jumped up and ran to the backdoor. Lily slowly opened it.

"We have to sneak past my Mummy," she whispered to Peter. "She wouldn't like it if we woke the baby."

Peter nodded. "I know how to get past her so she won't see us," he whispered back, and he tapped Lily on the top of her head with the stick. Lily giggled.

"I don't know how that's going to work," she said, slipping through the back door. They began to creep through the kitchen towards the stairs. They were almost there when the telephone rang in the passage. Lily and Peter froze in the center of the hallway as Mrs Evans walked right past them and answered the phone. She did not even blink at them and Lily turned to look at Peter.

"Told you," smirked Peter.

The two children slipped into the nursery and looked through the slats of the cot at the sleeping baby, reaching up to the top of the bars to hoist themselves up for a better look.

"She is so pretty, isn't she?" asked Lily.

But Peter didn't answer. He stared at the baby girl, and reached out to touch her. Petunia caught his hand and gripped his finger tightly. Peter couldn't tear his eyes away; he was mesmerized by the dark lashes against the nearly transparent eyelids, and the tiny chest rising and falling with each breath. "I'm going to be her best friend."

Lily frowned. "But she's my sister!"

Peter dragged his eyes away from the baby and smiled at his oldest friend. "We can share her," he said, and lifted himself clear over the railing into the cot, floating neatly beside the baby. Lily quickly did the same, and they curled up like kittens on either side of the baby and fell into a gentle slumber.

Several hours later, Mrs Evans looked in the nursery to find the three of them still curled around each other. One of Petunia's little hands held tightly onto Peter's finger, and the other held tightly to Lily's.

"How did they get into the cot?" she wondered, looking around the room, hoping to see a stool or chair nearby. "And why is that silly boy still carrying a stick about? When will he grow out of it - you might think he was a bit odd in the head." She reached in and lifted the older children into her arms. She carried them into Lily's bed, where she covered them both with a soft coverlet and drew the curtains. "A long day, I suppose. At least I can concentrate on myself for a bit now."

Petunia slept on, not realizing her companions had left her. But one of her earliest memories was of her sister Lily and her best friend Peter leaning over her and looking at her with loving eyes, and the feeling of holding the hands of the two people she loved the most. For as long as she could remember, it seemed to Petunia that Lily had always been there for her .... like magic.