the right bookâ¦â
Freddie looked after her in puzzled disbelief for a moment, and then noticed that he was still holding the roses. He hadnât even needed them to convince Granny P that he was sorry. He smiled and put them down next to her plate for her to see when she returned.
10
In writing
But when Granny P came back into the dining room she was carrying such a large book that she couldnât see past it to notice whether there was anything new on the table.
The book smelt faintly damp and musty and its pages were soft with use and age. Granny P put it onthe table next to Freddie and opened it carefully. The title said
Creatures of Fell, Beck, Loch and Croft
in old curly writing.
âYour grandfather was always poring over this book, Freddie! He used to tell the most amazing stories of these creatures to your father, your mother, me⦠in fact anyone who would listen. I think we all had different opinions about what was made up, what he might actually have seen, and what heâd simply taken from this book. But there is one that is really coming to mind for our situation.â
Granny P carefully turned to the back of the book and ran her finger down the index entries.
Badger
,
Cornish sprite
â¦
elf
,
fox
â¦
Loch Ness Monster
â¦
mole
⦠and back up until it rested on
the Fynd
.
âThatâs it,â said Granny P, âfrom what I can remember, Freddie, thatâs it. Page 279.â
Freddie looked at her in disbelief. From a glance through the index it appeared to be a book that contained as much fantasy as fact. It was ridiculous.
Granny P turned to page 279. And there it was, an entry written in factual and scientific language about âthe Fyndâ â a creature allegedly indigenous and unique to Scotland, and very rare.
âVery rare. Well, yes, that would make sense,â said Freddie sarcastically. âSo rare, it lives in the head of one person who made it up, and then died hundreds of years ago by the looks of this book.â
âFreddie,â said Granny P, âI have told you that this is the only rational explanation that I can think of. I agree that we shouldnât believe everything we read in books â but that also goes for serious books that act as if they know everything there is to know about the world, you know.â
Freddie pondered this for a moment. It was all like a riddle. But then, so were the mysteriously appearing items. His brain hurt a little, but with a sigh he decided he had nothing to lose from reading the entry.
* * *
Silly as the whole notion was, having read nearly seven pages on âthe Fyndâ, all Freddie and Granny P could do was stare at each other in wary, silent agreement.
Freddie read the summary out loud again:
The Fynd is small, shy and generally apt to hide in cluttered places where it will not be noticed. It likes the indoors, where it is warm and dry, and where it cansurround itself with objects to sort and hide in or behind.
It likes to interact with humans, but from a distance â this interaction typically taking the form of finding and presenting objects which have been lost, or which are unknown to the humans present, but have some form of value, whether monetary or sentimental.
The Fyndâs exact physical appearance is unknown since it so persistently hides itself, even when it has made its presence known to the humans it is serving. However, it is thought to have a long tail, as several partial sightings have glimpsed this sandy-coloured appendage protruding from the Fyndâs hiding places.
It is thought to survive by eating small amounts of waste paper, which tend to be in plentiful supply in the places it selects as habitats.
It was discovered and named in 1601 by William Fynd.
âGranny P?â asked Freddie. âDo you really think we could have a Fynd living in the attic? I mean, I can hardly believe such a thing exists. But do you honestly think they
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