Charmed Life - Diana Wynne Jones [61]
Cat nodded.
Mrs. Sharp at once became nervous in a much more genuine way. “Don’t do what he says, love,” she whispered. “Not on any account. You hear me? It’s a wicked, crying shame, and you’re not to do it!” Then, as Janet came slowly back—slowly, because she could see Mrs. Sharp had something private to say to Cat—Mrs. Sharp burst out artificially, “Oh, those great immemorial oaks! They must be older than I am!”
“They’re cedars,” was all Cat could think of to say.
“Well, that was a nice tea, my loves, and lovely to see you,” said Mrs. Sharp. “And I’m glad you warned me about those spoons. It’s a mean, wicked trick, enchanting property, I always think. I must be going now. Mr. Nostrum’s expecting me.” And go Mrs. Sharp did, through the Castle hall and away down the avenue with such speed that it was clear she was glad to go.
“You can see the Castle really upsets her,” Janet said, watching Mrs. Sharp’s trotting black figure. “There is this quiet. I know what she means. But I think it’s cheerful—or it would be if everything else wasn’t so miserable. Cat, it would have been no good running away to her, I’m afraid.”
“I know,” said Cat.
“I thought you did,” said Janet.
She was wanting to say more, but they were interrupted by Roger and Julia. Julia was so contrite and trying so hard to be friendly that neither Janet nor Cat had the heart to go off on their own. They played with hand mirrors instead. Roger fetched the mirror tethered to Cat’s bookcase, and collected his own and Julia’s and Gwendolen’s too. Julia took a firm little reef in that handkerchief of hers and sent all four aloft in the playroom. Until supper, they had great fun whizzing around the playroom, not to speak of up and down the passage outside.
Supper was in the playroom that evening. There were guests to dinner again downstairs. Roger and Julia knew, but no one had mentioned it to Cat and Janet for fear the supposed Gwendolen might try to ruin it again.
“They always entertain a lot in the month before Halloween,” Julia said as they finished the blackberry tart Cook had made specially out of Janet’s hatful. “Shall we play soldiers now, or mirrors again?”
Janet was signaling so hard that she had something urgent to say that Cat had to refuse. “I’m awfully sorry. We’ve got to talk about something Mrs. Sharp told us. And don’t say Gwendolen owns me. It’s not that at all.”
“We forgive you,” Roger said. “We might forgive Gwendolen too, with luck.”
“We’ll come back when I’ve said it,” said Janet.
They hurried along to her room, and Janet locked the door in case Euphemia tried to come in.
“Mrs. Sharp said I wasn’t on any account to do what Mr. Nostrum says,” Cat told her. “I think she came specially to tell me.”
“Yes, she’s fond of you,” said Janet. “Oh—oh—oh drat!” She clasped her hands behind her back and marched up and down with her head bent. She looked so like Mr. Saunders teaching that Cat started to laugh. “Bother,” said Janet. “Bother, bother, bother bother botherbotherbother!” She marched some more. “Mrs. Sharp is a highly dishonest person, almost as bad as Mr. Nostrum, and probably worse than Mr. Bistro, so if she thinks you oughtn’t to do it, it must be bad. What are you laughing about?”
“You keep getting Mr. Baslam’s name wrong,” said Cat.
“He doesn’t deserve to have it got right,” Janet said, marching on. “Oh, confusticate Mrs. Sharp! After I saw she wasn’t any good for any kind of help, I was in such despair that I suddenly saw the ideal way out—and she’s stopped it. You see, if that garden is a way to go to other worlds, you and I could go back to my world, and you could live there with me. Don’t you think that was a good idea? You’d be safe from Chrestomanci and Mr. Baalamb, and I’m sure Will Suggins couldn’t turn you into a frog there, either, could he?”
“No,” Cat said dubiously. “But I don’t think Mr. Nostrum was telling quite the truth. All sorts of things could be wrong.”
“Don’t I know it!” said Janet. “Especially after Mrs. Sharp. Mum and Dad would be another difficulty too—though I’m sure they’d like