reviewed by
ANNA C. BOWLING
Following the death of her parents, twelve-year old Maggie has been kicked out of every boarding school she can be kicked out of. As a last resort, she is sent to her only living relatives, great-aunts who live in a house that looks like a prison.
The house used to be a school for girls, though it is now much too big for two old women and a rebellious child. Old, eccentric Uncle Morris is the only bit of levity in Maggie's castoff life, though she rebuffs his offbeat humour. The only way to stay safe is to stay hard.
The aunts send her to the new version of the school, a day school nearby, where Maggie finds it impossible to bond with the other children. She retreats into her fantasy role of caretaker for the Backwoods Girls, imaginary friends who are the only things uglier, stupider and poorer than she. To them, everything is new, and a wonder, but just beyond their touch.
While escaping her aunts' obsession with health and nutrition, Maggie begins to hear voices in the attic. Someone talks about washtubs, tea, a dog, fire. Nobody but Maggie can hear the voices, though she is sure Uncle Morris understands.
Finally, the voices say it's time, and Maggie is able to find where they come from. In a hidden room in the attic, there are two dolls, Timothy John and Miss Christabel. To them, pretend tea and wooden toast are real, and their china dog, Jupiter is a fine companion in a wallpaper garden. Though Maggie is infuriated with the living dolls at first, they soon begin to work their way behind her resolve.
When Maggie decides to have an anniversary party for her doll friends, the lighting of a cupcake candle changes things forever. The connection between the dolls and the portraits of her ancestors, the original owners of both school and house becomes clear. Everything Maggie holds dear is ripped from her, even Uncle Morris, though she vows to get it all back.
Sylvia Cassedy spins an addictive tale for anyone who has ever felt cast-off or known the wonder of creativity. Though the atmosphere of the book feels British, American words such as dollars, inches, and a mention of Thanksgiving place it in the US, but no more specifics are given. The mention of television feels anachronistic, but is easily brushed off. Maggie's worlds, both real and imaginary, are tight and vividly drawn, and her first reachings beyond herself will cause readers to cheer.
