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.
The silence was gone. They were surrounded by what at first sounded like a humming noise. Then the hum seemed to break up into innumerable little voices, some high and shrill, some soft and purring, some abrupt as the plucking of a violin string. Rosemary was startled to distinguish a small, singsong voice quite close to her ear saying over and over again, ‘Up we go! Up we go!’
She looked around, and saw with astonishment that it was the second of the two caterpillars.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked.
The second caterpillar halted for a moment, waved its front half about uncertainly, and then hurried after its companion.
‘Don’t look round now,’ it said breathlessly, ‘but I think we’re being spoken to – by a human! What a mercy the great blundering things can’t hear us talking!’
‘But I can hear you talking!’ said Rosemary, a little nettled at being called ‘blundering’.
Both the caterpillars turned around in astonishment, lost their balance and fell off the twig on to the grass below in two tightly rolled coils from which they refused to budge.
‘Rosie!’ said John. ‘There’s a super beetle here, all green and blue, and he says –’
‘John and Rosemary, will you kindly pay attention!’
They turned to where Carbonel sat enthroned on the biscuit tin, the end of his tail twitching in irritation.
‘That is, of course, unless you find the conversation of beetles and caterpillars more worth while than mine!’
‘Carbonel! How glorious!’ said Rosemary happily. ‘We can hear you talking, too!’
‘Which is not much use unless you’re prepared to listen. After all the trouble I’ve taken with you!’
‘The trouble you’ve taken with us!’ said John.
But Carbonel swept on. ‘I thought I should never get you to understand what I wanted, and when at last you did realize you had to find Mrs Cantrip, and I tried to stop you from wasting your time by going off to the Copper Kettle, would you take any notice? Oh, dear me, no!’
‘Don’t let’s waste time now by being cross!’ said Rosemary. ‘We did the best we could, and we never expected to be able to hear beetles and caterpillars talking as well as you. It is rather exciting, you know!’
She put out her hand, and laid it gently over the angry, twitching end of Carbonel’s tail. For a moment she could feel it stirring beneath her palm. Then, gradually, the furry movement slowed down and ceased altogether.
‘Oh, come off it, Carbonel!’ said John affectionately.
The black cat took him at his word and stepped down from the box.
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I have no doubt you did do your best, and I am grateful. And I must say, you were very quick witted to bargain with her for the prescription. Now, pay attention, both of you, because I don’t have much time. I have not gone to all this trouble for the pleasure of a mere chat, though I won’t deny I am pleased to see you both again. Very pleased. I need your help.’
‘Of course we’ll help you! Won’t we, John?’ said Rosemary.