Last Term at Malory Towers
Page 15
"I hope he's not ill," said Mollie. They looked all round the playroom, set the musical box going and opened the windows.
They felt disappointed. They has so looked for-ward to seeing Chinky, and to sitting once more in the Wishing-Chair. Suddenly a little face looked in at the door.
Mollie gave a shout. "Chinky! It's you! we were so worried about you! We hoped you'd be here."
Both children gave the little pixie a hug. Chinky grinned. "Well, how could I be here waiting for you if the door was locked and the windows fas¬tened, silly? I may be a pixie, but I can't fly through locked doors. I have missed you. Were you very bored away at school?"
"Oh, no" said Peter. "Boarding school is sim¬ply lovely. We both loved it—but we're jolly glad to be home again."
"Chinky, where's the Wishing-Chair?" asked Mollie anxiously. "Nothing's happened to it, has it? Have you got it with you?"
"Well, I brought it here this morning." said Chinky, "but when I found the door of the play¬room was locked and couldn't get in I hid it under the hedge at the bottom of the garden. But you'd be surprised how many people nearly found it!"
"But nobody goes to the bottom of the garden!" said Peter.
"Oh, don't they!" said Chinky. "Well, first of all your gardener thought he'd cut the hedge there to-day, and I had an awful job dragging the chair from one hiding place to another. Then an old gipsy woman came by, and she almost saw it, but I barked like a dog and she ran away."
The children laughed. "Poor old Chinky! You must have been glad when we got here at last."
"Let's go and get it," said Peter. "I'm hoping to sit in it again. Has it grown its wings much since we left it with you, Chinky?"
"Not once," said Chinky. "Funny, isn't it?
It's just stood in my mother's kitchen like any ordinary chair, and never grown even one red wing!
I think it was waiting for you to come back."
"I hope it was—because then it may grow its wings heaps of times," said Peter, "and we'll go off on lots of adventures."
They went to the hedge. "There it is!" said Mollie in excitement. "I can see one of its legs sticking out."
They dragged out the old chair. "Just the same!" said Peter in delight. "And how well you've kept it Chinky. It's polished so brightly."
"Ah, that was my mother did that," said Chinky. "she said such a wonderful chair should have a wonderful polish, and she was at it every day, rub, rub, rub, till the chair groaned!"
Peter carried the chair back to the playroom. Chinky went in front to make sure there was no¬body looking. They didn't want any questions asked about why chairs should be hidden in hedges. They set it down in its old place in the playroom. Then they all climbed into it.
"It's just the same," said Peter. "We feel a bit more squashed than usual because Mollie and 1 seem to have grown at school. But you haven't grown, Chinky."
"No. I shan't grow any more," said Chinky. "Don't you wish the chair would grow its wings and go flapping off somewhere with us now?"
"Oh, yes" said Mollie. "Chair, do grow your wings—just to please us! Even if it's only to take us a little way up into the air and back."
But the chair didn't. The children looked anx¬iously down at its legs to see if the red buds were forming that sprouted into wings, but there was nothing there.
"It's no good," said Chinky. "It won't grow its wings just because it's asked. It can be very obsti¬nate, you know. All I hope is that it hasn't forgot¬ten how to grow wings after being still so long. I shouldn't like the magic to fade away."
This was a dreadful thought. The children pat¬ted the arms of the chair. "Dear Wishing-Chair! You haven't forgotten how to grow wings, have you?"
The chair gave a remarkable creak, a very long one. Everyone laughed. "It's all right!" said Chinky. "that's its way of telling us it hasn't for¬gotten. A creak is the only voice it's got!"
Mother came down the garden. "Children! Daddy's home. He wants to see you!"
"Right!" called back Peter. He turned to Chinky. "See you to-morrow, Chinky. You can cuddle up on the old sofa as usual, with the rug and the cush¬ion, for the night. You'll live in our playroom, won't you, as you did before, and tell us when the chair grows its wings?"
"Yes. I shall like to live here once more," said Chinky.
The Children ran back to the house. They had a very nice evening indeed telling their parents ev-erything that had happened in the term. Then off they went to bed, glad to be in their own dear little rooms again.
But they hadn't been alseep very long before Peter began to dream that he was a rat being shaken by a dog. It was a very unpleasant dream, and he woke up with a jump.
It was Chinky shaking him by the arm. "Wake up!" whispered the pixie. "The chair's grown its wings already. They're big, strong ones, and they're flapping like anything. If you want an adventure hurry up!"
Well! What a thrill! Peter woke Mollie and they pulled on their clothes very quickly and ran down the garden. They heard a loud flapping noise as they reached the playroom shed. "It's the chair's wings," panted Chinky. "Come on—we'll just sit in it before it goes flying off!"
II
OFF ON AN ADVENTURE
The children raced in at the playroom door and made for the Wishing-Chair. They could see it eas¬ily in the bright moonlight. It was just about to fly when they flung themselves in it. Chinky squeezed between them, sitting on the top of the back of the chair.
"Good old Wishing-Chair!" said Peter. "You didn't take long to grow your wings! Where are we going?"
"Where would you like to go? said Chinky.
"Wish, and we'll go wherever you wish."
"Well—let me see—oh dear, I simply can't think
12
of anywhere," said Mollie. "Peter, you wish- quickly."
"Er—Wishing-Chair, take us to—to—oh, good-ness knows where I want it to go!" cried Peter. "I simply don't..."
But dear me, the Wishing-Chair was off! It flapped its wings very strongly indeed, rose up into the air, flew towards the door and out of it—then up into the air it went, flapping its red wings in the moonlight.
Chinky giggled. "Oh, Peter—you said "Take us to Goodness Knows Where'," said the pixie. "And that's just about where we're going!"
"Gracious!—is there really a land called Good¬ness Knows Where?" said Peter, in surprise.
"Yes. Don't you remember when we went to the Land of Scallywags once, the Prince of Good¬ness Knows Where came to see me," said Chinky. "I was pretending to be a King. Well, I suppose it's his Land we're going to."
"Where is it?" said Mollie.
"Goodness knows!" said Chinky. "1 don't. I've never met anyone who did, either."
"The Wishing-Chair seems to know," said Pe¬ter, as it flew higher and higher in the air.
But it didn't know, really. It dropped downwards after a time and came to a tiny village. Peter leaned out of the chair and gazed with great interest at it. "Look at that bridge," he said. "Hey, Chair, what¬ever are you doing now?"
The chair hadn't landed in the village. It had flown a few feet above the queer little houses and
had then shot upwards again.
The chair flew on again, and then came to a heaving mass of water. Was it the sea? Or a lake? The children didn't know. " Look at that lovely silver moon-path on the sea," said Mollie, leaning out of the chair. "I'm sure it leads to the moon!"
The chair seemed to think so, too. It flew down to the water, got on the moon-path and followed it steadily, up and up and up.
"Hey! This isn't the way to Goodness Knows Where!' said Chinky, in alarm. "It's the way to the moon. Don't be silly, Chair!"j
The chair stopped and hovered in mid-air as if I it had heard Chinky and was changing its mind. I To the children's great relief it left the moon-path f and flew on till it came to a little island. This was j perfectly round and flat, and had one big tree stand- I ing up in the middle of it. Under the tree was a boat and someone was fast asleep in it.
Chinky's shout made the children jump. The chair jumped, too, and Mollie was almost jerked off. She clutched at the arm.
The little man in the boat awoke. He was more like a brownie than a pixie and had a very long beard, which he had wound neatly round his neck
like a scarf. He was most surprised to see the Wish¬ing-Chair landing on the island just near him. He scowled at Chinky.
"What's all this? Coming and shouting at me in the middle of the night! Can't I ever sleep alone?"
"You always do!" said Chinky. "Don't be so cross. Aren't you surprised to see us?"
"Not a bit," said Sleep-Alone. "You're always turning up when I don't want to have company. Go away. I've a cold coming on and I feel gloomy."
"Is that why you've got your beard wound round your neck—to keep it warm?" asked Mollie. "How long is it when it unwinds?"
"I've no idea," said Sleep-Alone, who seemed a disagreeable fellow. "Where are you going in the middle of the night? Are you quite mad?"
"We're going to Goodness Knows Where," said Chinky. "But the chair doesn't seem to know the way. Do you know it?"
"Goodness knows where it is," said Sleep- Alone, pulling his beard tighter round his neck. "Better ask her."
The children and Chinky stared. "Ask who?" said Chinky.
"Goodness, of course," said Sleep-Alone, set¬tling down in his boat again.
"Oh—is Goodness the name of a person then?" said Mollie, suddenly seeing light.
"You are a very stupid little girl, I think," said Sleep-Alone. "Am I to go on and on saying the same thing over and over again? Now good night,
14
15
and go and find Goodness if you want to disturb someone else."
"Where does she live?" bellowed Chinky in Sleep-Alone's ear, afraid that he would go to sleep before he told them anything else.
That was too much for Sleep-Alone. He shot up and reached for an oar. Before Chinky could get out of the way he had given him such a slap with the oar blade that Chinky yelled at the top of his voice. Then Sleep-Alone turned on the two children, waving the oar in a most alarming man¬ner.
Peter pulled Mollie to the chair. He put out a hand and dragged Chinky to it too, shouting, "Go to Goodness, Chair, go to Goodness, wherever she is!" Up rose the chair so very suddenly that Chinky fell off and had to be dragged up again.
Sleep-Alone roared after them. "Now I'm throughly awake and I shan't go to sleep to-night. You wait until I see you again, Chinky, I'll fly you off in my aeroplane to the Land of Rubbish and drop you in the biggest dustbin there!"
"He's not a very nice cousin to have, is he?" said Mollie, when they had left Sleep-Alone well behind. "I hope we don't see him again."
"Who is this Goodness, I wonder?" said Peter.
"Never heard of her," said Chinky. "But the chair really seems to know where it's going this time, so I suppose it knows Goodness all right!"
The Wishing-Chair was flying steadily to the east now. It had left the water behind and was now over some land that lay shining in the moonlight.
The children could see towers and Pinnacles, but they were too high up to see anything clearly.
The chair suddenly flew downwards. It came to a small cottage. All three of its chimneys were smoking. The smoke was green, and the children knew that was a sign that a witch lived there.
'i say—that's witch-smoke." said Peter, ner¬vously. He had met witches before on his adven¬tures, and he knew quite a bit about them.
"I hope the chair his come to the right place," said Mollie, as it landed gently on the path just outside the door of the little cottage.
They jumped off the chair, dragged it under a tree and went to knock at the door. A little old woman opened it. She looked so ordinary that the children felt sure she wasn't a witch.
"Please, is this where Goodness lives?" asked Chinky, politely.
"Not exactly. But I keep a Book of Goodness," said the old woman. "Have you come to seek ad¬vice from it?"
"Well—we rather wanted to know where the Land of Goodness Knows Where is," said Chinky. "And we were told that only Goodness knew where it was!"
"Ah, well—you will have to consult my Good¬ness Book then," said the old woman. "Wait till I get on my things."
She left them in a tiny kitchen and disappeared. When she came back, what a difference in her! She had on a tall, pointed hat, the kind witches and wizards wearm and a great cloak that kept blowing out round her as if she kept a wind under its folds. She no longer looked an ordinary little old woman—she was a proper witch, but her eyes were kind and smiling.
She took down from a shelf a very big book indeed. It seemed to be full of names and very tiny writing. "What to be full of names and very tiny writing. "What are your names?" she asked. "I must look you up in my Goodness Book before you can be told what you want to know."
They told her, and she ran her finger down col¬umn after column. "Ah—Peter—helped a boy with his homework for a whole week last term—remem¬bered his mother's birthday—owned up when he did something wrong—my word, there's a whole list of goodness here. And Mollie, too—gave up her half-holiday to stay in with a friend who was ill—told the truth when she knew she would get into trouble for doing so—quite a long list of good¬ness for her, too."
"Now me," said Chinky. "I've been living with my mother. I do try to be good to her." The old woman ran her finger down the list again and nod¬ded her head. "Yes—did his mother's shopping and never grumbled—took her breakfast in bed each day—never forgot to feed the dog—yes, you're all right, Chinky."
"What happens next? said Peter. The witch took her Book of Goodness to a curious hole in the middle of the kitchen floor. It suddenly glowed as if it were full of shining water. The witch held the book over it, and out of it slid little gleaming streaks of colour. "That's your Goodness going into the magic pool," she said. "Now, ask what you want to know."
Chinky asked, in rather a trembling voice, "We want to know where the Land of Goodness Knows Where is."
And dear me, a very extraordinary thing hap¬pened! On the top of the shining water appeared a shimmering map. In the middle of it was marked "Land of Goodness Knows Where." The children and Chinky leaned over it eagerly, trying to see how to get there.
"Look—we fly due east to the rising sun," be¬gan Chinky; then he stopped. They had all heard a very peculiar noise outside. A loud creaking noise
"The chair's calling to us!" cried Chinky and he rushed to the door. "Oh, look—it's flying away—and somebody else is in it.
Somebody's stolen the Wishing-Chair! What¬ever shall we do?"
Ill
WHERE CAN THE WISHING-CHAIR BE?
"Who's taken our chair?" cried Peter, in despair. "We can't get back home now. Come back, Chair!"
But the chair was under somebody else's com¬mands now, and it took no notice. It rose higher and higher and was soon no more than a speck in the moonlight. The three stared at one another, very upset indeed.
"Our very first adventure—and the chair's gone." said Mollie. in a shaky voice. "It's too bad. Right at the very beginning of the holidays, too."
"Who was that taking our chair—do you know?" Chinky asked the witch, who was busy smoothing the surface of the water in the hole in the floor with that looked like a fine brush. The map that had shone there was now gone, and the water was empty of reflection or picture. The chil¬dren wondered what would appear there next.
The witch shook her head. "No—I don't know," she said. "I didn't hear anyone out there because I was so busy in here with you. All kinds of people come to ask me questions, you know, just as you did, and watch to see what appears in my magic pool. Some of the people are
very queer. I expect it was one of them—and he saw your chair, knew what it was and flew off in it at once. It would be very valuable to him."
"I do think it's bad luck," said Mollie, tears com¬ing into her eyes. "Our very first night. And how are we to get back home again?"
"You can catch the Dawn Bus if you like," said the witch. "It will be along here in a few minutes' time. As soon as the sky turns silver in the east it comes rumbling along. Now, listen, 1 can hear the bus."
Wondering whatever kind of people caught the Dawn Bus, Millie and the others went out to catch it. It came rumbling along, looking more like a toy bus than a real one. It was crammed with little folk of all kinds! Brownies with long beards leaned against one another, fast asleep. Two tiny fairies slept with their arms round each other. A wizard nodded off to sleep, his pointed hat getting more and more crooked each moment—and three gob¬lins yawned so widely that their mischievous little faces seemed all mouth!
"The bus is full," said Mollie, in dismay.
"Sit in front with the driver, then," said the witch. "Go on, or you'll miss it!"
So Mollie, Peter and Chinky squashed them¬selves in front with the driver. He was a brownie, and wore his beard tied round his waist and made into a bow behind. It looked very odd.
"Plenty of room," he said, and moved up so far that he couldn't reach the wheel to drive the bus. "You drive it," he said to Chinky and, very pleased indeed, Chinky took the wheel.
But, goodness gracious me, Chinky was no good at all at driving buses! He nearly hit a tree, swerved violently and went into an enormous puddle that splashed everyone from head to foot, and then went into a ditch and out of it at top speed.
By this time all the passengers were wide awake and shouting in alarm. "Stop him! He's mad! Fetch a policeman!"
The bus-driver was upset to hear all the shout¬ing. He moved back to his wheel so quickly that Chinky was flung out into the road. He got up and ran after the bus, shouting.
But the bus-driver wouldn't stop. He drove on at top speed, though Mollie and Peter begged him to go back for Chinky.
"I don't know how to back this bus," said the brownie driver, solemnly. "I keep meaning to learn but I never seem to have time. Most annoying. Still, I hardly ever want to back."