He took it and glanced casually at the writing. Then suddenly his eyebrows shot up and his neck seemed to lengthen as he peered at the paper.
‘Wait for it!’ said John under his breath to Rosemary.
But far from being angry, the young man said,‘Excuse me one minute!’ and went to consult an older man who was busy in a glass-partitioned dispensary at the back of the shop. They whispered together for a while, and then the older man came over to the counter. First he read the prescription again through his spectacles, then he peered overthem at John and Rosemary.
‘This is most unusual,’ he said. ‘I have never been asked for it before. However, it is not for me to question a prescription.’
He turned to the young man.‘You’d better fetch the steps from the back, Mr Flackett.’
‘What is he going to do?’ Rosemary asked John anxiously.
‘Ask me another! I only hope Mrs Cantrip hasn’t double-crossed us!’ said John.
The young man put the steps against the mahogany partition that divided the window from the shop, and mounted them gingerly, while the older man held them steady. Then he put both arms round the huge glass bottle of red liquid that they had seen from the other side of the road, and breathing heavily with the effort, tottered dangerously down the steps with it into the dispensary.
John and Rosemary stood and listened to the fair-haired young lady serving a customer until the young man returned with a small medicine bottle full of red liquid. There was a pink mark down the front of his white jacket which he was rubbing with his handkerchief.
‘Such an awkward thing to pour from,’ he said to Rosemary, who noticed that his fingers were stained with the liquid. He wrapped up the bottle in white paper which he fastened at each end with a little blob of sealing wax.
‘Excuse me while I look it up in the price list,’ he said, flicking over the leaves of a catalogue. He licked his pink-stained thumb several times the better to turn the pages.
Now this is a horrible habit as everyone knows, but what followed may have cured him forever. He turned to speak to John and Rosemary, and suddenly started. His mouth fell open and all the pink ebbed from his face, leaving it a curious greenish white.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Rosemary sympathetically.
The young man swallowed hard.
‘It’s a funny thing,’ he said faintly, ‘but I distinctly thought I heard that black cat beside you speak! There is a black cat, isn’t there?’ he asked anxiously.
John and Rosemary looked down. There was indeed. It was Carbonel. Tired of waiting outside, he had followed an old lady through the swinging door into the shop. The children looked at each other.
‘What did you think he said?’ John asked tactfully.
The now pale young man swallowed hard again.
‘He said, in a cross voice, “Royalty, and left outside to wait like an old umbrella!” It doesn’t even make sense,’ said the young man unhappily.
‘That sounds like Carbonel all right!’ said John to Rosemary. The black cat stood between them, his ears slightly flattened and his tail twitching. The young man stared fascinated at the cat, and his colour began to come back, but he started violently once more.
‘He’s done it again!’ he said miserably. ‘He says – the cat I mean – to tell you not to take all day about it. Couldn’t you hear him, too?’ he pleaded.
‘No!’ said John and Rosemary. ‘We couldn’t, truthfully.’
‘But a cat talking! Whatever does it mean?’ asked the young man anxiously.
‘I expect it means that you’ve eaten something that has disagreed with you,’ said Rosemary truthfully.
‘I should take some Peterson’s Pink Pills,’ said John. They were the first thing that caught his eye. ‘And go to bed early. Good afternoon! Come on, Rosie!’
He picked up the bottle from the counter and hurried Rosemary from the shop, Carbonel trotting at their heels.
‘But the poor young man! Shouldn’t we try to do something for him?’ Rosemary said.
‘My good girl, what can we do?’ said John. ‘I expect it will wear off in time, and if Carbonel had gone on talking in there, the poor man might have gone completely off his rocker. I suggest we don’t open this bottle till we get back to the Green Cave. We don’t want any more complications. Come on, let’s run!’
5
The Red Mixture
It was long past teatime when John and Rosemary reached home. Mrs Brown was not there. In her place was a plate with some crumbs on it, and a note propped against the sugar basin which said, COULDN’T WAIT. WON’T HANG. GET YOUR OWN.
Rosemary explained that this meant her mother had gone back to the sewing-room because the dress she was making would not fall in the folds she wanted, and that they were to see about tea for themselves.
‘I’m terribly hungry,’ said John. ‘Let’s take it with us to the Green Cave.’
They put a plate of buns and two pieces of cake on a tray. Rosemary added cups of tea, and a saucer of milk for Carbonel; then they carried it into the garden.
The black cat was waiting for them on the path by the currant bushes. As soon as he saw them, he disappeared among the leaves, and when John and Rosemary wriggled after him, with some difficulty because of the tea tray, they found him in the Green Cave sitting serenely on the rusty biscuit tin which had held the brandy snaps. Looking up at him from the kneeling position that was necessary in the cramped space between the bushes, they were a little awed by his quiet dignity. He was looking fixedly at the bottle which they had put on the tray.
‘Come on! Let’s see what the directions say,’ said John, as he tore off the wrapping paper. ‘It has an ordinary chemist’s label. “The Mixture,”’ he read. ‘“Half a teaspoon to be taken after meals as required.” Well, I’m always requiring meals. I’m requiring my tea like billy-oh!’
‘I don’t think it means “meals as required”,’ said Rosemary, ‘but “the mixture as required – after meals”.’
‘Oh,’ said John. ‘Well, let’s hurry up and have our tea now. I’m starving!’
They each took a currant bun which they polished off with not much politeness but with great speed. Carbonel ignored the saucer of milk which Rosemary had poured for him. He sat staring expectantly at the children with wide, golden eyes.
‘We’d better eat the cake, too, to make it a meal,’ said John. ‘One bun is just a snack.’
They finished the cake and drank the tea. What had not slopped in the saucers was cold and rather nasty, but Rosemary swallowed every drop of hers very slowly, because she found herself wanting to put off the moment of drinking the strange, red mixture. John was clearly feeling the same way.
‘Look here,’ he said. ‘There can’t be anything to be afraid of. The chemist’s assistant could hear Carbonel talking, when he licked his thumb with the red liquid on it, so we know it does what we want it to do. Let’s drink at exactly the same minute, then whatever it is will happen to us both at the same time.’
Rosemary nodded, Carbonel came down from the tin, and purring encouragement, rubbed his head against her shoulder. They took their teaspoons and half filled them with the liquid, which fell sluggishly from the bottle. It had a strange, heady smell, rather like crushed chrysanthemum leaves. They knelt together with spoons raised.
‘I’ll say “One, two, three, go!”’ said John.
Rosemary nodded again. She became aware that, except for John’s voice, it was very still in the Green Cave. Even the canopy of leaves above them had ceased its restless stirring. The only moving things were two fat caterpillars with tufted backs, making their way slowly along a twig on a level with Rosemary’s nose. She stared at them unheedingly while John said, ‘One! Two! Three! Go!’
Rosemary took a deep breath, swallowed the spoonful quickly, and shut her eyes.
Behind the red darkness of her tightly closed lids, she felt the liquid fizzing slightly on her tongue. It tasted sharp, but not unpleasant, and glowed comfortingly as it slipped down her throat. There was a tickling in her nose and a tight, uncomfortable feeling in her ears. She felt an enormous sneeze welling up inside her, the father and mother of all sneezes. She tried to fight it down, but it was no good. Suddenly she shattered the silence with three violent sneezes, each one echoed closely by another from John. The two children looked at each other with startled eyes.