Carbonel and Calidor

17. Up and Away!

‘WE shall have to stir our stumps if we’re going home by the station,’ said John.

‘I know,’ said Rosemary. ‘We promised we’d help Mother Boddles with the teas at the Sale this afternoon, and we mustn’t let her down.’

‘But how on earth are we going to get to Fallowhithe and back in time? We must tell Calidor about Carbonel, Grisana and Mrs Witherspoon. It’ll take hours to walk all that way, and we haven’t enough money for a bus.’

‘Let’s get rid of the broom first, anyway,’ said Rosemary. ‘Ow! It nearly tripped me up! Here, you can carry it.’ She passed the broom to John.

‘There must be a way to the field path somewhere round here at the side of the house.’

They ran under an archway, across what had once been a stable yard, and through a broken-down gate. On the other side, they could just see the ghost of a path which wound through the clump of trees they had seen from the road; beyond where the field began, it petered out.

‘Ow!’ said John, as he rubbed his shin in his turn. ‘The beastly broom nearly tripped me up! Almost as though it did it on purpose. I say, you don’t think it wants us to ...’ They stood still and looked at one another.

‘To fly on it? Well, it does seem a bit to silly to walk,’ said Rosemary.

‘Come on, let’s try! After all, it only hops.’ John stood astride the broom as he spoke. ‘Get on behind, and hold on to my waist.’

Rosemary obeyed. Then she said: ‘Well, go on! Tell it where to go to.’

‘Take us to the station!’ commanded John in a loud and lordly voice.

They waited, but nothing happened.

‘You may have to say it in rhyme, like the Gew-Gaw wishes, and Mrs Witherspoon’s Middle Magic,’ said Rosemary. ‘And I expect you’d better be polite. Wait a minute, I believe I can remember what Miss Dibdin said to it the day we saw her ride away from Tucket Towers. Something like this:

“To the Ladies’ Waiting Room”.’

She stopped, and thought for a minute, and then went on with a rush:

‘ “Kindly take us, noble broom”!’

At once, the handle of the broom began to quiver. The quiver grew to a rapid vibration, then it seemed to gather itself together and leapt into the air. Caught off her guard, Rosemary nearly fell off. She just had time to clutch John round the waist as the broom sailed six feet up into the air, and down again.

‘Stick your feet out in front!’ yelled John, as the broom hit the ground with a jolt, only to bounce once more into the air again. ‘Wheee!’ he shouted. ‘This is super!’

Up and down went the broom, gaining height and speed with every bound.

‘It’s like the merry-go-round at the fair, only it goes straight and much faster!’ shouted Rosemary. ‘We shall get to the station in no time.’

Up the gentle slope of the field bounced the broom and there was the station in front of them. It seemed to wobble towards them with surprising speed, and it looked increasingly solid and hard to land on as it came closer.

‘Hold tight!’ shouted John. ‘We’re coming in to land!’

Rosemary squeezed her eyes shut, and with a jolt and a clatter they pan-caked on to the platform, just outside the Ladies’ Waiting Room. They rose rather shakily to their feet. The broom, apparently lifeless once more, lay between them on the ground.

‘Whew! That was quite a ride!’ said John. ‘Hallo, there’s Mattins.’

The grey cat was sitting with drooping head by the remains of the broken seat.

‘Whatever has happened to your poor whiskers?’ said Rosemary. ‘They’ve gone all crinkly.’ Mattins lifted his head with a jerk.

‘She plaited them,’ he snapped, with an angry toss of his head towards Tucket Towers.

‘But whatever for?’ asked Rosemary.

‘As a punishment, because without her permission, I told Grisana about the black cat she is keeping prisoner. When I managed to get my whiskers un-plaited, they were like this, and I can’t get them straight again.’

‘But didn’t Grisana stick up for you?’ asked John.

‘Not she! She laughed fit to burst when she saw my poor whiskers. I’ve done with both of them, Grisana and the Witch Woman. I’m really sorry I told tales about Crumpet. But I was angry with him when I heard him telling you about this business of being a royal animal, and he hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me too. I came to see if this one would take me on instead.’ He nodded towards the Waiting Room.

‘She’s not much of a witch, but I’m not much of a cat, not with whiskers like this. I knew she was catless now Crumpet has gone. But even that’s no good. She says she’s giving up witching. You can ask her for yourselves. She’s in there.’ He nodded once more to the open door behind him.

John picked up the broom and marched into the Ladies’ Waiting Room with Rosemary at his side. Miss Dibdin was sitting crouched on the floor by the empty fireplace, with her head in her hands. Rosemary tiptoed up to her.

‘Miss Dibdin,’ she said softly. ‘Do please cheer up.’

‘Go away!’ she replied, without looking up. ‘Whoever you are.’

‘It’s us, John and Rosemary. We’ve brought your broom back for you. You left it behind at Tucket Towers.’

‘Well, I don’t want it,’ said Miss Dibdin sourly. She looked up miserably at the two children. ‘You don’t mean to say you saw it happen? Me being bundled off like that by Dulcie Witherspoon’s magic! So humbling.’

They nodded, unwilling to say anything that might increase her unhappiness. ‘It’s no good,’ she went on. ‘I’m giving it all up. Some people are good at one thing and some at another. Well, I’m no good at witching, and Dulcie is.’

‘Like me being no good at football,’ said John. ‘And Tony Wilkins is, although he doesn’t try nearly so hard.’ Miss Dibdin nodded understandingly.

‘And just look at my furniture!’ she went on with a wave of her hand. ‘I bought one or two things to make it a bit more comfortable. I had to do something about it when Dulcie turned me out of Tucket Towers.’

John and Rosemary looked round. As well as the packing case and the station bench, there was an armchair with the stuffing coming out, propped up with what looked like a telephone directory. In a corner on the floor there was a mattress covered with a rug.

‘But whatever’s happened to them?’ said Rosemary. ‘They are all ... shadowy!’

‘You can see right through them!’ said John.

‘I know that!’ said Miss Dibdin irritably. ‘I thought if someone came and found out I had settled in here, I might get into trouble for trespassing on the station; but if no one could see my furniture they would never know, so I planned to make everything invisible, except to me. But I couldn’t even get a simple spell like that right! I looked it up in my notes — but I must have done something wrong, as usual. Turned over two pages by mistake, probably — and they came out only half invisible. I don’t feel really comfortable somehow, sitting on a chair you can see through.’

‘Is that why you’re sitting on the floor?’ asked John. Miss Dibdin nodded. ‘But the broom,’ he went on. ‘What shall we do with it?’

‘Whatever you like,’ Miss Dibdin replied impatiently.

‘Then can we keep it?’ asked Rosemary eagerly.

‘If you want to,’ said Miss Dibdin with a shrug. She turned and patted the broom where it lay beside her on the floor. ‘The nearest thing I got to a bit of real magic was riding it, even if it did only hop. If I could only fly, just once, high in the air, with the clouds trying to keep up beneath me, and fields and houses slipping away miles below! What witty things I should say to the birds when they cheeked me. If I could do it just once, I could give up the rest quite cheerfully!’ She broke off with a sigh. ‘It isn’t much to ask, but it’s no good. If I hadn’t left my reading glasses behind at Fairfax Market and could see my notes properly, it might all have been different,’ she mumbled.

‘Where are your notes?’ asked Rosemary. ‘I can read without spectacles!’

‘Miss Dibdin pointed with a fat finger to an untidy pile of loose sheets of paper lying in a corner. Rosemary picked them up and thumbed them through. Her eyes were very bright, and her cheeks were flushed.

‘What are you doing?’ asked John. But she motioned him not to interrupt. ‘Here we are,’ she said at last. ‘ “To make a besom fly where it shall be commanded.” ’ With a frowning face, she read the instructions through to herself, looking at the broom from time to time, as though checking various points.

‘Did you brew the mixture at the full moon?’ she asked Miss Dibdin.

‘Of course. A beautiful green steam it gave off.’

‘We know, John saw it,’ said Rosemary crisply. ‘And did you boil the tape in the liquid while the wind was nor’-nor’-east, so that it rose three times?’

‘Miss Dibdin nodded. ‘And picked the twigs just before the church clock struck midnight,’ she added. ‘It’s the twigs that hold the magic.’

Rosemary peered at the untidy bundle at the end of the broom handle. She could still read ‘Nostradamus Ltd. Fancy Goods’ printed on the tape which secured it to the handle. She looked at the notes again.

‘But you’ve tied it with the wrong knot!’ she said. ‘You’ve made it the ordinary granny kind. ‘There’s a diagram here showing how it should be done.’

Miss Dibdin looked where Rosemary’s finger pointed at the closely written page.

‘That?’ she said. ‘Oh dear! I hadn’t realized it was a diagram. I thought it was just an idle bit of doodling! Oh silly me!’

Rosemary began to untie the knot.

‘What are you doing now?’ asked John again. Rosemary ignored him. Without looking up from the diagram she said briskly: ‘While I re-tie the string, properly this time, I have to say the magic words. When I come to the last twist but one, John, I shall nod, then you must put your thumb on the knot so that I can make it really firm.’

‘I must, must I?’ he said with a grin. ‘Who’s being bossy now?’

Rosemary looked up. ‘Don’t you see? If it really flies high this time, the broom can take us to Fallowhithe twice as quickly as any other way! Are you ready? Then I’m going to begin the spell.’

Her fingers took the two ends of the ribbon, and twisted and twined them exactly according to the diagram, and at the same time she chanted in a sing-song voice:

‘Fly-by-night,

And fly-by-day.

What I command,

You must obey.

Whither or thither,

Hither and yon,

Whoever bestraddles you,

Carry them on,

Up and over, wherever they will.

Do as you’re bid. Their wishes fulfil.’

And as she said ‘fulfil’, she nodded, and John placed his thumb squarely on the knot, and she gave a final twist and tug to the ribbon.

Even through the ball of his thumb John felt the quiver of the broom’s response, even more strongly than when they had flown across the field. For a moment, there was a restless stirring among the twigs, and then they lay still.

‘I say!’ said John, gazing at Rosemary with respect.

‘My dear, you did it beautifully!’ breathed Miss Dibdin, who had watched the proceedings with her hands clasped under her chin to control her rising excitement. But Rosemary did not seem to hear either of them. She was standing with the broom in her hands, wrapped in her own thoughts.

‘Rosie!’ said John. ‘I say, Rosie!’ he repeated, and as she still took no notice he gave her shoulder a pat. ‘Wake up! What’s the matter with you?’ Rosemary gave herself a little shake, and turned to John with rather a wobbly smile.

‘Come on. Let’s see if it will fly with us to Fallowhithe!’

‘To Fallowhithe?’ said Miss Dibdin. ‘Oh, please, may I come too?’

‘I suppose so,’ said Rosemary doubtfully.

‘Is the broom strong enough to take all of us?’ said John.

‘The magic is young, and should be powerful,’ said Miss Dibdin eagerly.

‘You said if you could fly high, just once, on the broomstick, you’d stop this witching business for good. If we say you can come, will you promise to be sensible and give it all up?’ said John.

‘By the witch of Endor, and Solomon’s Ring,’ said Miss Dibdin, making a curious flickering movement with her hands, ‘I promise to burn my notes and return to Fairfax Market! That is a very solemn oath.’ She gave a sigh. ‘Being sensible is so dull! But never mind that. Come, come, what are we waiting for? Have you thought what to say when you tell the broom what you want it to do? She turned to Rosemary, who nodded.

‘Then let us mount!’ said Miss Dibdin, adding, ‘Mattins! Guard the Waiting Room while we are gone.’

They all three stood astride the broom, first Rosemary, then John, and Miss Dibdin at the back.

‘Go on, say it!’ said John, as Rosemary paused. She lifted her head high, and in a loud, clear voice said:

‘To Fallowhithe please will you fly.

Not hopping, but high in the sky,

To land where Calidor is standing,

And please to make a careful landing!’

‘So efficient! She thinks of everything,’ breathed Miss Dibdin.

‘Up!’ cried Rosemary. ‘Up and away!’

The broom rose gently in the air.

‘Look out! Duck!’ yelled John, as without warning it shot through the doorway of the Ladies’ Waiting Room, out into the daylight, circling up and up into the air, until Highdown Station looked no bigger than a toy below them.