Mary-Mary

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Mary-Mary Page 8

by Joan G. Robinson


  Mary-Mary began to get tired of being shut up in the bathroom.

  “I’m getting hungry,” she said.

  “Oh, goodness!” said Meg, outside the door. “Will she starve?”

  “Of course she won’t,” said Mervyn.

  “But we ought to get her out, all the same,” said Martyn.

  “What ever shall we do?” said Miriam.

  They whispered and talked outside the door for a bit longer. Then all of a sudden Martyn said, “I know! We could get the fire brigade.”

  “But why?” said the others. “There isn’t a fire.”

  “No,” said Martyn, “but they have long ladders and things. I believe that’s what people do when they get stuck in places: they ask the firemen to come and get them out.”

  “Yes, of course,” said Miriam. “Why didn’t I think of it before? We’d better go and telephone them.”

  Then Mary-Mary heard them all running away downstairs.

  She forgot to feel hungry any more and began to feel rather excited, looking forward to the firemen coming. But what a pity it would be, she thought, if she should miss seeing the fire engine drive up to the house.

  “If only I could find the key I could get out and watch them arrive,” she said to herself. “Anyway, I may as well get all ready just in case I find it.”

  So she tidied up the bathroom and put on her socks, and then, when she went to put on her shoe, out fell the key on to the floor!

  “Of course!” said Mary-Mary. “Now I remember. I put it in my shoe on purpose so that I could forget where it was if anyone came up suddenly and told me to open the door.”

  When Miriam, Martyn, Mervyn, and Meg had finished telephoning they all went on to the front step to wait for the fire brigade.

  In a very short while they heard the clanging of a bell, and a moment later the big red fire engine came roaring up the road and stopped at the front gate. Then four firemen, in helmets and big black boots, jumped quickly down and ran one after the other up the front path to the house. It was a splendid sight.

  Miriam explained all about how her poor little sister had been locked up in the bathroom for hours, and Mother was out, and they hadn’t known what to do.

  “That’s all right,” said the biggest fireman. “Don’t you worry. We’ll have her out in no time.”

  Then the four firemen went tramping up the stairs in their big black boots, with Miriam, Martyn, Mervyn, and Meg all following behind and telling them which way to go.

  But when they got to the landing they all stopped and stared at each other, and the four children said, “Oh!” and the four firemen said, “What’s the meaning of this? Have you children been playing a joke on us?” For the bathroom door was wide open and there was no Mary-Mary to be seen!

  “No, truly she was here!” they cried. “She was locked in, and we didn’t know what to do. Oh, where ever can she be?” And they all ran from room to room calling her.

  Then one of the firemen opened the front bedroom window, and they all looked down into the garden, and there what should they see but Mary-Mary standing by the gate with a whole crowd of people.

  The four Merry children were there, and Tommy from up the road, and Stanley, the grocer’s boy, with his bicycle, and quite a few grown-ups as well. And Mary-Mary was waving her hand at the fire engine, just as if she owned it, and saying, “Yes, it is nice, isn’t it? It was ordered specially for me on the telephone.”

  “But where’s the fire?” said Stanley, the grocer’s boy.

  “There isn’t one,” said Mary-Mary. “Don’t be silly. We didn’t want a fire; we only wanted a fire engine.”

  “Ooh, you are lucky!” said Tommy from up the road. “I wish the fire engine would come to our house.”

  Just then Miriam and the others saw Mother hurrying up the road with her shopping-basket on her arm. They all ran downstairs as fast as they could to meet her.

  “It’s all right,” they cried, “there isn’t a fire!” Then they told her all about what had happened.

  “Thank goodness for that!” said Mother, and she hurried indoors and told the firemen how sorry she was, and how the children had really thought they were doing the right thing. Then she made them all a cup of tea.

  The firemen were very nice and said accidents did happen sometimes, and they were glad the children hadn’t been playing a joke on them, because that would be a very serious matter. Then every one suddenly remembered that Mary-Mary was still outside the front gate. So Mother sent Miriam to fetch her in.

  Mary-Mary came in with her wet hair still sticking out in spikes all round her head, and her hands and knees black where she had climbed up on the wall to watch the fire engine arrive. Her face was black too, where she had rubbed it with her hands.

  “I know now what I’m going to be when I grow up,” she said, smiling brightly at them all. “I’m going to be a fire lady.”

  “So you’re the young lady who was locked up in the coal cellar?” said one of the firemen.

  “Oh, no,” said Mary-Mary. “I was locked up in the bathroom.”

  “Were you really, now?” said the fireman. “I wonder what made me think it was the coal cellar.”

  Mary-Mary couldn’t think either; but, as everybody laughed, she laughed too. It was fun having four real firemen drinking tea in her house on a Saturday morning.

  When they had finished their tea the firemen showed Miriam, Martyn, Mervyn, and Meg all sorts of interesting things: the ladders with hooks on them for climbing up the walls of houses; the hoses, coiled up tightly like Swiss rolls, that could be joined together to make one long one if they wanted it; and even the little iron lid that covered the hole in the road where they got the water to put out a fire.

  Then they all said good-bye, and thank you for the tea, and thank you for coming; and Miriam, Martyn, Mervyn, Meg, and Mary-Mary waved until the fire engine was out of sight.

  “Well, that was fun!” said Miriam.

  “Just what we wanted!” said Martyn.

  “Better than having the road dug up,” said Mervyn.

  “Or a tree cut down,” said Meg.

  “I’m so glad you liked it,” said Mary-Mary, smiling proudly at them all.

  “Good gracious, Mary-Mary!” they said. “Do you mean to say you did all that on purpose?”

  “No, not quite,” said Mary-Mary. “I really did lose the key. But when I found it again I thought how disappointed you’d all be, because I knew you so specially wanted something interesting to happen. And I couldn’t dig up the road for you, or cut a tree down, but I’d jolly nearly got you a fire engine without meaning to, so I ran away and hid because I thought it would be such a pity to spoil it.”

  “That was sweet of you,” said Miriam.

  “You are a sport,” said Martyn.

  “Thanks awfully, Mary-Mary,” said Mervyn.

  “But you’d better not do it again,” said Meg.

  “Oh, no,” said Mary-Mary, “once is enough. But I am glad you all enjoyed it.”

  So Mary-Mary made the morning exciting, after all, and that is the end of the story.

  JOAN G. ROBINSON

  Joan G. Robinson (1910–88) was the second of four children to barrister parents. She trained as an illustrator and in 1939 began writing and illustrating stories for the very young. She published over thirty books in her lifetime for three different age groups. In 1953 the first of her enduringly popular Teddy Robinson series about her daughter Deborah and her teddy was published, followed by the Mary-Mary series, about the youngest of five children. In 1967 When Marnie Was There was shortlisted for the Carnegie Medal.

  Published in Great Britain in 2013 by Hot Key Books

  Northburgh House,

  10 Northburgh Street,

  London EC1V 0AT

  Mary-Mary first published by George G. Harrap & Co. Ltd in 1957

  More Mary-Mary first published by George G. Harrap & Co. Ltd in 1958

  Text and illustrations copyright © the Es
tate of Joan G. Robinson

  The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN: 978-1-4714-0206-7

  This eBook was produced using Atomik ePublisher

  www.hotkeybooks.com

  Hot Key Books is part of the Bonnier Publishing Group

  www.bonnierpublishing.com

 

 

 


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