‘Mrs Cantrip must have pressed it in her magic book, like Mummy pressed a sweet pea from her wedding bouquet in her Bible…’ They turned over the thick pages of the book, and sure enough, between two plain pages at the end was a depression into which the plait exactly fitted.
‘You’re a wonder!’ said John. But Carbonel’s heart was so full that all he could do was to rub himself against Rosemary’s legs and purr and purr and purr. There was no need to say anything. It was her turn to go pink with pleasure.
‘There is only the hat to get now,’ said Rosemary, ‘and that will be easy’
‘I left the Players’ handbill in my other jacket pocket, but I’ll look it up the minute we get home,’ said John.
‘In two days’ time the moon will be full, and that will mean the next Lawgiving,’ said Carbonel. ‘If only I could be free by then, what bloodshed could I spare my people!’
‘Well, we’ll have a good try to get the hat tomorrow somehow,’ said John. ‘But look here, my jolly boys, as I used up every halfpenny we had between us on that ungrateful old Cantrip, we shall have to hoof it home.’
‘I tell you what,’ said Rosemary. ‘I feel I could hoof it much better with some tea inside me. Let’s go and see Miss Maggie at the Copper Kettle.’
‘Far be it from me to deny you your simple pleasures,’ said Carbonel, ‘but my mind is on higher matters than cream buns and lemonade. I have other things to do. Guard the book well!’ And with tail erect and head held high he padded purposefully away.
21
More Plans
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John and Rosemary ate an enormous tea. I shall not bother you with details of what they had because if you think of all the things to eat that you like best you will know all about it without being told. Miss Maggie and her sister were delighted to see them. It was rather a relief to talk about ordinary things, such as the difficulty of finding someone really reliable to wash up, and how many of the Women’s Instituters had come again and brought their friends, and how their brother had been so deeply impressed by the numbers of their customers. It was only when Miss Maggie said that she would so much like to write a little note of thanks to the kind person who had lent them all the beautiful china that Rosemary jumped up hurriedly.
‘Goodness! It’s half past five, and we promised to be home by six! We simply must go. Thank you for the wonderful tea!’
With the book safely buttoned inside John’s coat, and a good tea inside them, the children hardly noticed the walk home. The car was standing outside number ten when they reached Tottenham Grove. They ran upstairs, still discussing plans for getting the hat next day. Jeffries was drinking a cup of tea.
‘Hallo, dears!’ said Mrs Brown. ‘Had a happy day?’
‘Lovely!’ said both John and Rosemary.
‘I’m so glad. You know, Mrs Pendlebury Parker really is extremely kind. What do you think? There is a Garden F?te tomorrow at Walsingham Court, and you two are to go, and as Mrs Parker has a committee that afternoon, she has asked me if I would mind taking you instead. The sewing is nearly done. You would like to go, wouldn’t you?’
Rosemary pulled herself valiantly together. At any other time she would have loved it.
‘I expect I shall enjoy it no end… when I get there. And it’s lovely that you are going to have a day off. It’s only that John and me had planned something else.’
John made no attempt to hide his disgust.‘It will mean clean nails and a tie!’ he said tragically. But Jeffries broke into his lamentations.
‘I’ll stand you a go at the coconut shy, but not if you don’t look slippy now. We must be pushing off, ma’am. Thank you for the tea.’
Rosemary watched the car as it drove away, and then she went slowly upstairs. What a lot had happened since the day school had broken up and she had bounced her satchel up the stairs. Full moon in two days! If only they could have got out of going to the f?te next day! But she could think of no way that would not seem both rude and ungrateful. It was really very kind of Mrs Pendlebury Parker, and her mother, she knew, would thoroughly enjoy the change from sides to middling. There was clearly nothing to be done, except to enjoy the f?te as much aspossible, she thought guiltily.
Halfway through supper they heard the faint tinkle of the telephone that stood in the hall, and Mrs Walker came halfway up the stairs and called up.
‘It’s for Rosie!’ she said sourly. ‘As if I haven’t enough to do, and my feet are killing me.’
Rosemary ran downstairs.
‘It’s me, John,’ said the small tinny voice the other end. ‘It’s all right. What do you think? The Netherley Players are acting at the f?te! Jeffries is coming to fetch you and your mother at 2.30, so bring the Broom and the Cauldron and Carbonel with you.’
‘Yes, but John…’
‘Can’t stop now. See you tomorrow.’ And Rosemary found herself protesting to a dead receiver.
After supper she discussed it with Carbonel. He had just come upstairs from the basement.
‘Phoo! You do smell of bloaters!’ said Rosemary.
‘Bloaters? So that is what they were,’ said the cat, licking his shirt front complacently. ‘Delicious. Now, you say that these play actors with the hat will be at this place tomorrow? It seems to me it will be next to impossible to get them to give you the Hat, but they might be persuaded to lend it to you for half an hour. John is quite right. The obvious thing for you to do is to take Cauldron, Broom, and me with you.’
‘That’s all very well!’ said Rosemary, ‘but Mummy and Jeffries will never let me. If they see me taking cats and coalscuttles to a garden f?te they’ll think I’ve gone mad!’
‘Well, don’t let them see you. Really, Rosemary, you have no ingenuity.’
A number of rather angry replies came into Rosemary’s mind at this, but she remembered Napoleon and Charles the Second and swallowed the retorts that came to her lips.
‘You can surely smuggle us into the back of the car somehow,’ said Carbonel coolly.
‘After all,’ thought Rosemary, ‘it isn’t being naughty, only odd, to take them with me.’ And she went on aloud: ‘All right, but you will have to go inside the cauldron. Either that or I shall have to leave you behind and say the Summoning Words when we get there.’
Carbonel opened his mouth to say something indignant, but when she pointed out what a long way it was, he changed his mind.
‘Very well,’ he said with dignity. ‘I will travel in the cauldron, but have the goodness to clean out the remains of the Rainbow Magic. Even SHE used to wash up properly afterwards.’
It was no use, thought Rosemary. He always had the last word.
‘Dear Carbonel!’ She laughed and, greatly daring, kissed him on the top of his sleek black head. He did not seem displeased.
Mrs Brown did not have to go to Tussocks next morning, and during a delightfully leisurely lunch Rosemary said:
‘Mummy, wouldn’t it be a good idea to take the old rug off the foot of my bed this afternoon, so that we could sit on the grass even if it is damp? We don’t want to catch cold, do we?’ she added virtuously. Her mother laughed.
‘I’ve never known you bother about whether the grass is damp or not before. But it would be a good idea, all the same.’
‘Well, it wouldn’t do to use Mrs Parker’s beautiful fur car rug, would it?’ said Rosemary.
Rosemary was ready a good hour before the car was due to fetch them. She was wearing her best summer frock with blue smocking on the front and two blue hair ribbons. She had cleaned out the cauldron. The remains of the wishing spell did smell rather nasty, and she had black-leaded its sides and polished the copper band. She felt that it ought to be looking its best, as this was its final magic, and somehow she knew that the battered old thing was grateful. She even contemplated tying a red hair ribbon on the handle of the broom, but decided against it because John would undoubtedly laugh at her. Finally she oiled the handles of the cauldron so that they should make as little noise as possible when she smuggled everything down. Even Carbonel had to admit that she had made a good job of it.