The voice went on jerkily, as though the owner was making some great effort,‘But the Pattersons might be said to occupy like mad. They’ve got three children.’
There was a sharp rattle, as of a spanner slipping, and a smothered exclamation, and the body belonging to the grey flannel legs squirmed into view, revealing a bright green open-necked shirt liberally smeared with oil. Rosemary supposed that the stallholder at the Market, who was old, might consider this a‘youngish man’. He stopped sucking his bleeding knuckles long enough to say:
‘But on the other hand, I am the old original Occupier. I say, what do you want to know for?’
‘We’ve brought something back for you. You dropped it at Fairfax Market,’ and she held out the crumpled envelope.
‘That’s very kind of you.’
The man took the envelope and looked inside.
‘What on earth is it?’
‘It’s a coupon that you can exchange for a large packet of Lathero for the price of a small one.’
‘But what on earth should I do with a packet of Lathero when I’d bought it?’
‘You could wash your shirt with it,’ said Rosemary gravely. ‘But you had better let me tie up your hand. It’s bleeding. I’ve got a clean hankie here.’
‘Washed, I suppose, with Lathero? You are an advertising stunt, aren’t you?’
‘Goodness no!’ said John, as Rosemary tied up the grazed hand. ‘You see, the old man said that you bought the hat.’
‘Aha! The incomparable witch’s hat! But look here, I don’t understand. How do you know anything about it?’
‘Well, you see,’ said Rosemary, ‘I’ve got the cat that belonged to the same witch, and the broomstick.’
‘On which you doubtless swept up to the front door,’ said the man with a twinkle.
‘Oh no, we came in Aunt Amabel’s car because we didn’t want to use up the broom’s magic. And Jeffries – he’s the chauffeur – he’s coming back to fetch us in half-an-hour, because he’s gone to see his young lady,’ said John.
‘I see,’ said the youngish man. ‘If you ask me, a broom is a much more civilized vehicle than a car. It doesn’t have to be screwed up with spanners that turn round and hit you.’ He looked ruefully at his bandaged hand. ‘But look here, suppose you tell me what you have really come for?’ And he grinned so encouragingly that Rosemary said:
‘We want the witch’s hat, please.’
The grin faded. There was an awkward pause, and the man called,‘Molly, can you come here a minute?’
A girl’s voice answered, ‘All right, but I shall never finish these tunics if you keep interrupting,’ and the awkwardness was broken by the arrival of a girl in tight-fitting slacks and a yellow sweater. She was pretty and looked kind, Rosemary decided thankfully.
‘What is it?’ she inquired.
‘Ask me another,’ said the young man, lighting a cigarette. ‘These youngsters want the hat I bought at Fairfax Market.’
‘But what for? Look here, come upstairs, then we can sit down and discuss it comfortably.’
They walked in procession into a garage and up some wooden stairs into what had probably once been a hay loft. It had a stack of wicker baskets at one end, one of which was open, showing a jumble of coloured materials inside. There was a table near the window with a sewing machine on it, and a pile of sewing, and on a shelf were rows of headdresses on stands, top hats, helmets, medieval headdresses with horns and veils, three-cornered hats, and at the far end… a black, high-pointed hat of furry, beaver felt! ‘Now sit down and tell us all about it,’ said Molly.
Cheered by her kindness and the nearness of the hat, Rosemary sat down on a dress basket and told them the whole story.
‘So you see,’ she ended up, ‘we simply must have the witch’s hat or we can’t do anything.’
‘But look here,’ said the young man when she had done, ‘of course you tell it awfully well, but you can’t come here with a fairy tale like that and expect me to hand over the hat on a plate! It’s a very rare thing, I don’t mind telling you. It must be very old. I’ve half a mind to take it to Fairfax Museum and see what they think of it.’
Rosemary was aghast.‘Oh, don’t do that. They might put it in a glass case, and we should never get it then.’
‘You certainly wouldn’t,’ said the young man shortly.
‘But we only want to borrow it, you know.’
‘Now look here…’ began the young man crossly, when Molly interrupted.
‘No, Bill, leave it to me. Tomorrow morning we are going off on tour. Bill and I, and some others, of course, act plays. We go round to village halls and schools and things, and we must have the hat to take with us. There isn’t time to get another, let alone make one. You see that, don’t you?’ Rosemary and John nodded.
‘Now suppose you wait until you have got the cauldron, and all this Silent Magic taped, and perhaps we might lend it to you then, just for the final spell. What about that for a solution?’
‘Oh thank you!’ said Rosemary gratefully. ‘You are kind! We shan’t forget, shall we, John? And you will take great care of the hat, won’t you?’
‘Great care. I promise. Perhaps you could come and see us act. Bill, give them a handbill. That will show you where we are going to be.’
‘Then we shall know where to find you when we are ready to borrow the hat,’ said John.
‘So you will,when you are ready,’ said the young man.
‘Thank you very much. But I think we ought to go now; Jeffries will be waiting.’
So they all shook hands, and Molly and the young man saw them to the car, where a slightly anxious Jeffries was waiting for them. They had been a good deal longer than half-an-hour.
14
Making Plans
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John and Rosemary reached Tussocks in time for tea. Mrs Pendlebury Parker was out, so they asked if they might have theirs on two trays so that they could take them where they liked in the garden.
‘Let’s have it on the stone seat,’ said Rosemary.
It had been a hot, sunny day, and the seat was warm to sit on. There were fat cushions of moss and little plants growing between the paving stones at their feet, and the yellow roses above dropped slow petals on to their tea-trays.
‘I feel like a princess,’ said Rosemary.
‘You don’t look like one. You’ve lost one of your hair ribbons.’
‘Bother!’ said Rosemary. ‘You know, I think this afternoon was pretty satisfactory. The Occupier man, I mean. And I liked Molly, too. They promised to take care of the hat, and now we know from the handbill exactly where they are going to be, so that all we’ve got to do is to write and ask them for it when we are ready. You can have the rest of my cucumber sandwiches. I like the scrunch when you bite them, but I don’t like the taste much.’
‘I hope it’s all right, about the hat, I mean,’ said John doubtfully. ‘The trouble is you never can tell with grownups. You know how they say “Not today, dear, another time!” when you know perfectly well that that’s simply a polite way of saying “No, you jolly well can’t!”’
‘Oh dear, I hadn’t thought of that,’ said Rosemary. ‘All the same, it would be best to do as Molly suggested. I mean get the cauldron and the Silent Magic ready first, and then try again for the hat.’
John nodded. His mouth was too full to speak. Presently he said,‘I say, we’ve got an awful lot to do. It will be hard enough to find the witch, let alone get her to tell us the spell.’
Remembering the strange old woman, Rosemary wriggled uneasily.‘I know. You wait till you meet her!’
‘Well, I’ve been thinking. We can’t get on with anything much unless we can get more time on our own. I tell you what I’ll do. Mummy said she was going to ring up Aunt Amabel tonight, and she is sure to talk to me, too. I’ll tell her about you…’
‘Not about the magic,’ interrupted Rosemary. ‘I don’t think it is wise to talk about that unless we’ve got to. The Occupier went all queer and cautious when he saw we really meant it – about the magic, I mean. And he was so nice before that. Didn’t you notice?’