[723] "Them flowerheads you got all over that outside table," Rollo said. "You expect me to stick them back on, or something?"
[724] "No, of course not," Charmain said. "They're drying in the sun. Then I'll have them in the house."
[725] "Huh!" said Rollo. "Prettifying in there, are you? How do you think the wizard'll like that?"
[726] "None of your business," Charmain said haughtily, and strode forward so that Rollo was forced to hop out of her way.
He shouted something after her as she was opening the front door, but she did not bother to listen. She knew it was rude. She slammed the door shut on his yells.
[727] Indoors, the smell of the living room was more than musty. It was like a stagnant pond. Charmain put Waif on the floor and sniffed suspiciously. So did Waif. Long brown fingers of something were oozing under the door to the kitchen. Waif tiptoed up to them warily. Charmain, equally warily, put out her toe and prodded the nearest brown trickle. It squished like a marsh.
[728] "Oh, what has Peter done now?" Charmain exclaimed. She flung the door open.
[729] Two inches of water rippled all over the kitchen floor. Charmain could see it seeping darkly up the six bags of laundry beside the sink.
[730] "Doh!" she cried out, slammed the door shut, opened it again, and turned left.
[731] The corridor there was awash. Sunlight from the end window flared on the water in a way that suggested a strong current coming from the bathroom. Angrily, Charmain splashed her way there. All I wanted to do was sit down and read a book! she thought, and I come home to a flood!
[732] As she reached the bathroom, with Waif paddling unhappily after her, its door opened and Peter shot out of it, damp down his front and looking thoroughly harassed. He had no shoes on and his trousers were rolled up to his knees.
[733] "Oh good, you're back," he said, before Charmain could speak. "There's this hole in one of the pipes in here. I've tried six different spells to stop it, but all they do is make it move about. I was just going to turn the water off at that woolly tank through there—or try to anyway—but perhaps you could do something instead."
[734] "Woolly tank?" Charmain said. "Oh, you mean that thing covered in blue fur. What makes you think that will do any good? Everywhere's flooded!"
[735] "It's the only thing I haven't tried," Peter snarled at her. "The water has to come from there somehow. You can hear it trickling. I thought I might find a stopcock—"
[736] "Oh, you're useless!" Charmain snarled back. "Let me have a look." She pushed Peter aside and flounced into the bathroom, raising a sheet of water as she went.
[737] There was indeed a hole. One of the pipes between the washbasin and the bath had a lengthwise slit in it, and water was spraying out of it in a merry fountain. Here and there along the pipe were gray magical-looking blobs which must have been Peter's six useless spells. And this is all his fault! she snarled to herself. He was the one who made the pipes red hot. Oh, honestly!
[738] She rushed at the spraying slit and angrily planted both hands on it. "Stop this!" she commanded. Water sprayed out round her hands and into her face. "Stop it at once!"
[739] All that happened was that the slit moved sideways from under her fingers for about six inches and sprayed water over her pigtail and her right shoulder. Charmain scooped her hands along to cover it again. "Stop that! Stop it!"
The slit moved off sideways again.
[740] "So that's how you want it, is it?" Charmain said to it, and scooped some more. The slit moved off. She followed it with her hands. In a moment or so she had it cornered above the bath and the water spraying harmlessly into the bath and running away down the plughole. She kept it there, by leaning on the pipe with one hand, while she thought what next to do. I wonder Peter didn't think of this, she thought in a sort of mutter, instead of running about casting useless spells. "Great-Uncle William," she called out, "how do I stop the bathroom pipe leaking?"
[741] There was no answer. This was obviously not something Great-Uncle William thought Charmain would need to know.
[742] "I don't think he knows much about plumbing," Peter said from the doorway. "There's nothing useful in the suitcase either. I had it all out to see."
[743] "Oh, did you?" Charmain said nastily.
[744] "Yes, some of the stuff in there is really interesting," Peter said. "I'll show you if you—"
[745] "Be quiet and let me think!" Charmain snapped at him.
[746] Peter seemed to realize that Charmain might not be in a very good mood. He stopped talking and waited while Charmain stood in the bath and leaned on the pipe, thinking. You had to come at this leak two ways, so that it couldn't slide off again. First you fixed it in one place and then you covered it up. But how? Quick, before my feet are quite soaked. "Peter," she said, "go and get me some dishcloths. At least three."
[747] "Why?" said Peter. "You don't think—"
"Now!" said Charmain.
[748] To her relief, Peter went crossly splashing off, muttering about bossy, bad-tempered cats. Charmain pretended not to hear. Meanwhile, she dared not let go of the slit and the slit kept spraying and she was getting wetter every second.
[749] Oh, blast Peter! She put her other hand on the farther end of the slit and began pushing and sliding her hands together as hard as she could. "Close up!" she ordered the pipe. "Stop leaking and close up!" Water spouted rudely into her face. She could feel the slit trying to dodge, but she refused to let it. She pushed and pushed. I can do magic! she thought at the pipe. I worked a spell. I can make you close up! "So close up!"
[750] And it worked. By the time Peter came wading back with just two cloths, saying those were all he could find, Charmain was soaked through to her underclothes but the pipe was whole again. Charmain took the cloths and bound them around the pipe on either side of where the slit had been. Then she snatched up the long back brush from beside the bath—this being the only thing remotely like a wizard's staff that she could see—and batted at the cloths with it.
[751] "Stay there. Don't dare move!" she told the cloths. She batted at the mended slit. "You stay shut," she told it, "or it'll be the worse for you!" After that she turned the back brush on Peter's blobby gray spells and batted at them too. "Go!" she told them. "Go away! You're useless!" And they all obediently vanished. Charmain, flushed with a sense of great power, batted at the hot tap beside her knees. "Run hot again," she told it, "and let's have no nonsense! And you," she added, reaching across to bat at the hot tap on the washbasin. "Both hot—but not too hot, or I'll give you grief. But you stay running cold," she instructed the cold taps, batting them. Finally, she came out of the bath with a great splash and batted at the water on the floor. "And you go! Go on, dry up, drain away. Go! Or else!"
[752] Peter waded over to the washbasin, turned the hot tap on, and held his hand under it. "It's warm!" he said. "You really did it! That's a relief. Thanks."
[753] "Huh!" said Charmain, soaked and cold and grumpy. "Now I'm going to change into dry clothes and read a book."
[754] Peter asked, rather pathetically, "Aren't you going to help mop up, then?"
[755] Charmain did not see why she should. But her eye fell on poor Waif, struggling toward her with water lapping at her underside. It did not look as if the back brush had worked on the floors. "All right," she sighed. "But I have done a day's work already, you know."
[756] "So have I," Peter said feelingly. "I was rushing about all day trying to stop that pipe leaking. Let's get the kitchen dry, at least."
[757] As the fire was still leaping and crackling in the kitchen grate, it was not unlike a steam bath in there. Charmain waded through the tepid water and opened the window. Apart from the mysteriously multiplying laundry bags, which were sodden, everywhere but the floor was dry. This included the suitcase, open on the table.