‘Seven! I must have seven living things of a kind.’
‘We are seven cats!’ said Carbonel, and then Merbeck, Tudge and Woppit, the two kittens and Blandamour, made a ring around the red scarf, nose to tail.
‘Can you do it without a book?’ asked John.
Mrs Cantrip nodded.
‘Every witch carries the final magic in her head. Give me the bottle.’
Very slowly John handed her the red mixture and watched her take her place in the centre of the red-silk, cat-ringed square.
‘Good-bye, Tudge, Woppit and Blandamour,’ said Rosemary, her eyes hot with tears.
‘Good-bye Tudge, Woppit and Blandamour,’ said John.
‘Not good-bye,’ said Carbonel, and his voice was so faint that the two children had to bend down to hear him. ‘You may not hear us talk again,’ he said, ‘but you will always hear us purr. Your fame will stretch far and wide, and cats of Fallowhithe will sing songs about you to their children and their children’s children. Whenever any of them purr beneath your stroking fingers, it will be a purr of gratitude, an echo of what my Queen and I will feel always in our hearts. Do not look so sad. Listen, and perhaps we can ease your…’
The last word was so faint that they could not hear it. They were standing side by side, and in her misery Rosemary clutched John’s hand. Mrs Cantrip was standing very stiff and straight. She took the cork from the bottle and poured the red mixture which would have made it possible for them to hear again, not only cats talking, but the birds in the trees, the little scuttling wood creatures, the tiny things that crawl and fly and burrow. She poured it in a ring around the seven cats. They saw her lips move silently as, with her eyes closed, she said the final magic.
Then the purring began. Carbonel began first, loud and clear, not on two pulsing notes as he usually did, but in many notes that made a solemn tune. Then Merbeck joined in, and the two sounds merged and then parted like the instruments of an orchestra. And like the instruments of an orchestra the purrs of Tudge and Woppit joined in, weaving around each other, up and down, now loud, now soft, with Calidor and Pergamond supplying their light treble, making the sweetest music they had ever heard.
John and Rosemary listened, delighted, for how long they did not know, but gradually the sorrow seemed to lift from their hearts, and although their eyes filled with tears, they were not hot tears of unhappiness. Through them the outline of Mrs Cantrip seemed to swell and waver.
‘Lend me a hankie,’ said John unsteadily. ‘I’ve lost mine.’
They took it in turns to wipe their eyes and noses, and when they looked up again they thought at first that Mrs Cantrip had gone. In her place was a tall, upright old lady. Over her neat cotton dress, she wore a gardening apron, and a pair of leather gardening gloves were on her hands. She looked down at John and Rosemary with eyes that twinkled kindly over her rather large nose.
‘You know,’ she said as though they were in the middle of a conversation, ‘animals can always tell when you like them. That’s why so many pussies come to see me.’
She bent down and stroked a magnificent white cat with blue eyes which was sitting at her feet.
‘Blandamour!’ whispered Rosemary. ‘I’m so glad you are your right size again.’
‘There is no doubt that you like cats, too!’ said Mrs Cantrip.
Blandamour and Carbonel were weaving in and out between the two children, pressing so hard against their bare legs that they found it quite hard to keep their balance. Merbeck, Tudge and Woppit had slipped away. Both children fell on their knees beside the black and the white cat.
‘Come and see us sometimes!’ whispered Rosemary, and as if in answer a rough tongue licked her cheek.
John stirred Calidor and Pergamond with his foot. They were rolling over each other in an effort to rub themselves against his right ankle.
‘Be good kittens!’ he said.
With a little ‘prrt!’ Blandamour called her children to her. One behind the other, Carbonel leading, they trotted away. When they reached the flower bed they paused, gave a quick look back, and disappeared.
‘Look!’ said John. ‘The high wall has gone!’ In its place was a low fence which let the sun come streaming in. Instead of hemlock, nettles and deadly nightshade, there were roses, tiger lilies, and round, scarlet dahlias; there were marigolds and nasturtiums and sweet-scented stock.
Mrs Cantrip was cutting a bunch of sweet peas which she said were for Mrs Brown, and while she snipped away she talked over her shoulder.
‘Very good of Mr Fudge to give me the morning off. But of course after working with him for so long… What’s the matter, dear?’
‘Hedgem and Fudge? Do you work there?’ asked Rosemary.
‘Of course! I’ve been dispensing for him for years.’
John and Rosemary looked at each other in a puzzled way.
‘Luckily Albert Flackett is back at work again,’ she went on. ‘He seems quite recovered, and he tells me he and Myrtle are getting married soon. I’m so glad! Ah, here comes Dorothy with the lemonade.’
They turned. Miss Dibdin, her own size and none the worse for her adventure, was coming out of the house carrying a tray with two glasses on it. She gave no sign of anything except pleasure at their approval of the lemonade. The children drank it politely.
‘Miss Dibdin,’ said John, as he replaced his empty glass on the tray. ‘Have you known Mrs Cantrip for long?’
Miss Dibdin laughed comfortably.
‘Why, Katie and I have been friends since we both wore plaits. We were at school together!’
‘It’s very puzzling,’ John said on the way home as they turned to look back at the front of the house. The neat front door was pale yellow now, and golden linen curtains hung at the windows, which were edged with flower-filled window boxes.
‘I suppose the magic had to work backwards,’ said Rosemary. ‘Mrs Cantrip couldn’t become what she might have been, without having been all the other things she might have been before.’
John nodded. He seemed to understand, as I hope you do, too.
‘How kind of Mrs Cantrip!’ said her mother when Rosemary gave her the bunch of sweet peas from Mrs Cantrip’s garden.
‘Mother, have you known her for long?’
‘Why, she’s one of my oldest customers!’ said Mrs Brown.
‘She has lived with that friend of hers – Miss Dibdin – ever since I can remember,’ said Mr Featherstone, who was suddenly there again. ‘I’m just going down to my flat for a minute – I’ve left a large block of ice cream on the kitchen table. Your mother and I thought we ought to have a celebration. Come with me, John.’
John went off with Mr Featherstone. Mrs Brown had buried her face in the bunch of sweet peas.
‘I think Mr Featherstone ought to have a lift put in. Then he wouldn’t have to keep running up and down the stairs when he comes to see us every day,’ said Rosemary.
Her mother lifted her face from the bunch of flowers. It was as pink as the sweet peas.
‘I can think of a better plan, darling,’ she said. ‘Supposing he came to live here with us. Would you like that, Rosie?’ She paused for a moment, and then she said with a rush, ‘We’re going to be married!’
Rosemary’s eyes were round as saucers.
‘Mummy, how lovely!’ she said.
As she spoke, John came bursting in, and by the way he pumped Mrs Brown’s hand up and down and grinned from ear to ear, it was quite clear that he had been let into the secret and entirely approved. As for Mr Featherstone, he said shyly, ‘Will I do, Rosie? I’ll take such care of you both!’
‘I should just think you will do!’ said Rosemary, and they laughed and talked until Mrs Brown said, ‘My goodness, the chicken will be ruined!’ and rushed into the kitchen. But it was not ruined, it was cooked to a turn. When they had all eaten as much as they could manage, Rosemary gave a great sigh.
‘A father, and a high school, and chicken for dinner altogether. How perfectly gorgeou
s!’
The wedding was a quiet one, but among the guests were Mrs Cantrip and Miss Dibdin. As Mr and Mrs Featherstone left the church, not only a black cat, but a snow-white one as well, ran across their path as though to wish them luck.
Table of Contents
Cover
About the Author
Title Page
Copyright Page
Contents
The Kingdom of CARBONEL
1: The Green Cave
2: Carbonel Again
3: Prism Powder
4: Hedgem and Fudge
5: The Red Mixture
6: The Royal Kittens
7: Figg’s Bottom
8: The Rocking Chair
9: The Walled Garden
10: Making Plans
11: Cat Country
12: Conspiracy
13: Stranded
14: Gone!
15: Miss Dibdin’s Magic
16: Invisible
17: Adelaide Row
18: Calidor
19: The Pet Shop
20: ‘All Hands to the Pump’
21: Dossy
22: The Queen of Sheba
23: Milly
24: The Counter-Spell
25: The Green Mixture
26: Council of War
27: The Friendship Ceremony
28: The Attack
29: Minuscule Magic
30: The Return of the Kings
31: The Final Magic
The Kingdom of Carbonel Page 19
