‘I’ve got it, something red! A bottle of cochineal!’
The other things were already in the cauldron which Carbonel was stirring with a rung from the broken chair.
‘It’s making a lovely magic sort of smell already,’ said John, peering gingerly into the cauldron. ‘I suppose it’s the setting lotion and the methylated spirits.’
Carbonel stopped stirring, and the swirling mixture subsided into a slow simmer which made a rhythmical‘plopping’ noise. ‘It’s about ready. Now the minute that you pour in the last thing, that’s the red stuff, repeat what I say and then add what your wish is… in rhyme if you can do it, and mind you say exactly what you mean this time!’
Rosemary nodded, breathing rather hard. She had already thought out a rhyme. This time she was determined there should be no mistake. She took a deep breath.‘I’m ready. Shall I pour in the cochineal?’
Carbonel nodded. Silently they watched while she tipped the little bottle until it was quite empty, and as the last drop fell the cauldron began to bubble furiously, seething and frothing, until a pile of rainbow-coloured bubbles rose up from the mouth.
‘Say after me!’ whispered Carboneclass="underline"
Prism,
Schism,
Solecism.
Spectrum,
Plectrum,
Bright electrum.
Knelling,
Belling,
Wishing spelling!
And as Rosemary repeated the last word the bubbles subsided, and an urgent boiling took their place.
‘Now!’ hissed Carbonel. ‘Say your wish!’
Rosemary stood up very straight and said:
Listen to my wishing rhyme,
Please bring here till closing time,
All the china you can find,
Of every sort and shape and kind
From the Wilkinson Bequest,
And John and I will do the rest!
With a hiss and a cloud of steam that seemed to fill the wash house, the cauldron boiled over and put out the gas. For a moment they could see nothing but a fog of steam, but as it cleared they realized that something had happened.
‘Good old cauldron, it’s done it!’ said John. And it had. The sink, the floor, the draining board, the window ledge, every shelf and corner was covered with china, rare and exquisite china, Spode china, Rockingham china, Dresden china, Chelsea china, dinner sets, banqueting sets, tea sets, jugs, ornaments, statuettes, vases. In fact it was exactly what Rosemary had asked for – all the china from the Wilkinson Bequest out of the Fairfax Museum.
‘Gosh!’ said John. ‘You’ve overdone it a bit, haven’t you? I mean to say, all these banqueting sets…?’
‘I have a bit,’ said Rosemary as she rescued a priceless Georgian footbath from slipping off the broken chair. ‘I really meant teasets, but if it all goes back at closing time it won’t really matter,’ and she darted off to the kitchen.
‘Miss Maggie, Miss Maggie!’ she called. ‘Do come! We’ve done it! Heaps and heaps of china in the wash house, do come and see!’ and she took the astonished Miss Maggie by the hand and ran with her across the yard. The china was still there. John was already sorting out the teasets from therest. Miss Maggie’s eyes were like saucers.
‘But where did it come from? I did not hear it arrive. Why, it is exquisite, beautiful china! It’s far too good.’
‘Oh, never mind!’ said Rosemary, who was jumping up and down with impatience. ‘It is yours until closing time. Do think of your brother’s good money after bad and the Women’s Instituters. They’ll be here any minute now!’
Miss Maggie took a deep breath. Then she said in an entirely different voice,‘Florrie, go and fetch all the trays you can lay hands on, and put all the kettles on to boil, and then run round to Osbornes and buy up all the buns and scones they’ve got. We shall be able to pay them this evening!’
They collected all the china they could and staggered into the kitchen. The meeting at the Temperance Hall was clearly over. In the tea shop there was not an empty seat.
‘Oh dear!’ said Miss Florrie. ‘They are getting impatient. I know all the signs.’
‘Never mind, we’ll help all we can,’ said John, ‘if you will tell us what to do.’
‘Will you put all the tea pots on the rack above the stove to warm, and the little girl could arrange the tea trays on the big table, and I will go and take some orders.’
Goodness, how they worked! First they carried trays in, and then they collected dirty china and brought it back to wash up, and as fast as one customer got up to go another would take her place. And the Women’s Institute ladies ate cream buns and crumpets off plates of priceless porcelain, and they drank thick, teashop tea from tea pots made for a Chinese Emperor when our ancestors were running about in woad.
John and Rosemary stood over the sink washing-up until they thought their backs would break.
‘We’ve jolly well earned that old cauldron!’ said John, wiping his crimson face. ‘Did you see that when the brother came there was a queue outside the shop waiting to come in?’
‘I know,’ said Rosemary, ‘isn’t it splendid! He said that as they were so busy he would come back and talk to them after six.’
She stood up and pushed back her plaits for the fiftieth time.
‘Talking of closing time,’ said John, ‘if we are not back in Tottenham Grove by six when Jeffries comes to fetch me, Aunt Amabel will be cross, and then she may not let us go off on our own again.’
Miss Maggie came in with a loaded tray which she put down on the table.
‘Whew!’ she said. ‘It is slackening off now. I’ve never known such a day!’
‘Isn’t it splendid!’ said Rosemary. ‘But John and I think we ought to be going home now.’
‘My dear child, I simply don’t know how to thank you both. Goodness knows why you have done all you have. Where shall I return all this beautiful china? I should so like to thank the kind owner who lent it so generously. He must be rather an eccentric person.’
‘You really can’t thank him… it is… I mean he is very shy and retiring. And don’t bother about returning the china. It will… I mean, transport has been arranged!’
‘And it is quite easy to repay us,’ said John, who felt that in her efforts to explain things truthfully Rosemary was rather losing sight of their real object.
‘My dears, anything I can do, you have only to say what you want!’
‘Then would you let us have the cauldron that you use as an umbrella stand? As… as a sort of keepsake?’
‘Why, you funny little things, if that is really what you want! What an odd choice! I only paid five shillings for it in the market. Such an odd old woman I bought it from. And, of course, if you ever want tea or an ice-cream you will always be welcome at the Copper Kettle!’
John and Rosemary took off their aprons, fetched the broom and the cauldron, and said‘Goodbye’. They had had no time for any tea, so Miss Florrie put a large bag of cakes in the cauldron for them to eat in the bus.
‘Goodbye, Miss Maggie. Just put the china together… and it will be collected. Goodbye, Miss Florrie!’ and with yet another wave from the two sisters they set off down the High Street to the bus terminus, carrying the cauldron between them, and with Carbonel behind.
Rosemary gave a great sigh.‘Well, we’ve done it!’
‘So we have, but I never want to see a tea towel again!’ said John. ‘You got off pretty lightly!’ he said to the cat.
‘I did what I could,’ said Carbonel with dignity. ‘I washed up milk jugs until I was too full to lick so much as a teaspoon of cream.’
‘What an odd thing!’ said Mrs Brown that evening. She and Rosemary had finished their supper and she was reading a copy of the evening paper which she had bought on the way home. ‘Just listen to this!’
MUSEUM MYSTERY
While going on his usual rounds of the Fairfax Museum in the normal course of his duties, at 3.45 this afternoon, the attendant, Mr Arthur Pettigrew, discovered that the whole of the valuable Wilkinson Bequest China Collection had apparently been stolen. On being questioned, Mr Pettigrew said that when he left the room at 3.30 with a party of visitors everything was in its place. The police were at once informed. The theft was at first put down to a gang of thieves who have been at work in this neighbourhood, but the mystery deepened when it was discovered that all the glass cases were still locked, the keys never having left the possession of Mr Jones, the Curator. But on glancing into the room at closing time, Mr Pettigrew found that all the china had been returned, each piece being back in its right place. The theory that it was not a theft but a practical joke is strengthened by the fact that on several plates were signs of jam, and crumbs of cake and bread and butter, and that several teapots contained tea that was still quite warm.