Mary Poppins brandished her parrot-headed umbrella and then turned to the children. “Now, quick march and best foot forward!”
The pink rose bobbed jauntily on her hat as she gave the perambulator a twist and sent it rolling on a downward slope.
They seemed to be sliding rather than walking with the cloud growing mistier every second. Soon the shapes of trees loomed through the haze and suddenly, instead of air, there was solid earth beneath their feet and the Park Keeper and the Prime Minister were coming towards them, on the Long Walk, the emerging sun bright on their faces.
“There they are, just like I told you, coming right down out of the sky, breaking the Rules and the Bye-laws!”
“Nonsense, Smith, they had merely walked into the mist and now that it’s lifted you can see them again. It has nothing to do with the Bye-laws. Good afternoon, Miss Mary Poppins. I must apologise for the Park Keeper. One would think, to hear him talk, that you had been visiting the Moon, ha, ha!”
The Prime Minister laughed at his own joke.
“One would indeed!” Mary Poppins replied, with a gracious, innocent smile.
“And what have you done with the other one?” the Park Keeper demanded. “The little brown fellow – left him up in the air?” He had seen Luti with the family troupe and now he was with it no longer.
The Prime Minister regarded him sternly. “Really, Smith, you go too far. How could anyone be left in the sky, supposing he could get there? You see, as we all do, shapes in the mist and your imagination runs away with you. Get on with your work in the Park, my man, and don’t go molesting innocent people who are simply strolling through it. But now I must run away myself. They say there is trouble in the Lane. Someone appears to have lost their wits and I must look into it, I suppose. Good day to you, Miss Poppins. Next time you go climbing into the blue, pray give my respects to the Man-in-the-Moon!”
And, again laughing heartily, the Prime Minister swept off his hat and hurried away through the Park Gates.
Mary Poppins smiled to herself as she and the children followed closely behind him.
Angrily staring after them, the Park Keeper stood in the Long Walk. She had made a fool of him again! He was sure she had been up in the sky and he wished with all his heart she had stayed there.
There was, indeed, trouble in the Lane.
A large woman, with a big black bag in one hand, and tearing her hair with the other, was standing at the gate of Number Eighteen, alternately shouting and sobbing.
And Miss Lark’s dogs, usually so quiet, were jumping up and down, barking at her.
Of course it was Miss Andrew.
Mary Poppins, cautiously walking on tiptoe, signalled to the children to do the same as they followed in the steps of the Prime Minister.
He was clearly nervous when he reached the scene.
“Er – is there anything, madam, I can do to help you?”
Miss Andrew seized him by the arm. “Have you seen Luti?” she demanded. “Luti has gone. I have lost Luti. Oh, oh, oh!”
“Well,” the Prime Minister glanced around anxiously. “I am not quite sure what a Luti is.”
It might, he thought, be a dog, or a cat, even, perhaps a parrot. “If I knew, I could, perhaps, be of use.”
“He looks after me and measures my medicines and gives them to me at the proper times.”
“Oh, a chemist! No, I have seen no chemist. Certainly not a lost one.”
“And he makes my porridge in the morning.”
“A cook, then. No, I have not seen a cook.”
“He comes from the South Seas and I’ve lost him!” Miss Andrew burst anew with sobs.
The Prime Minister looked astonished. A cook – or a chemist – from the South Seas! Such a one, if lost, would be hard to find.
“Well, give me your bag and we’ll take a walk along the Lane. Somebody may have seen him. You, perhaps, madam,” he said to Miss Lark, who was hurrying in pursuit of her dogs.
“No!” said Miss Lark. “Neither have Andrew and Willoughby!” She was not going to have anything to do with the woman whose snoring had disturbed the Lane.
The two dogs followed her, angrily growling. And the Prime Minister urged Miss Andrew along, letting her keep her grasp on his arm, as they went from gate to gate.
No, Mrs Nineteen had seen nothing. That was all she would say. And Mr Twenty repeated her words. Neither felt sympathy for Miss Andrew. She had taken their precious Number Eighteen and, moreover, had kept locked up within it, the sunny stranger who, for just one little hour a day, they had come to love and respect. If Luti were indeed lost they hoped that some better fate would find him.
“No, no, always no! Will nobody help me?” wailed Miss Andrew, grasping the Prime Minister more tightly.
And behind them, like a soundless shadow, the perambulator swept along, with Mary Poppins and Jane and Michael walking softly on the grass.
The Prime Minister’s arm was beginning to ache as Miss Andrew, continually lamenting, drew him towards Binnacle’s ship-shaped cottage which stood at the end of the Lane.
Binnacle was sitting on his front doorstep, playing his concertina and the Admiral, with Mrs Boom beside him, was singing at the top of his voice his favourite sea-shanty.
“Sailing, sailing, over the bounding main,
And many a stormy wind shall blow
Till Jack comes home again.”
“Stop! Stop!” Miss Andrew shrieked. “Listen to what I have to tell you. Luti is lost. He has gone away.”
The Admiral broke off in mid-song. The concertina was silent.
“Blast my gizzard! Lost, you say? I don’t believe it – he’s a sensible lad. He’s probably simply up-anchored and gone to join the navy. That’s what a sensible lad would do. Don’t you think so, Prime Minister?”
Privately, the Prime Minister did not think so at all. The navy, he felt, had all the cooks and chemists it needed. But he knew from experience that if he disagreed with the Admiral he would be advised to go to sea and he preferred being a landlubber.
“Well, perhaps,” he said uneasily, “we must enquire further.”
“But what shall I do?” Miss Andrew broke in. “He’s lost and I’ve nowhere to go!”
“You’ve Number Eighteen,” Mrs Boom said gently. “Isn’t that enough?”
“Ask Binnacle!” said Admiral Boom. “He has an extra cabin. Plenty of room for her and her chattels.”
Binnacle glanced at the Admiral. Then he eyed Miss Andrew reflectively. “Well, I could manage the medicines and all pirates know how to cook porridge. But–” his voice now held a note of warning, – “you’ve got to pay the price!”
Relief dawned on Miss Andrew’s face. “Oh, anything! Ask any price you like. I will gladly pay it.” She loosened her grasp on the Prime Minister’s arm.
“Nah, nah, it’s not the money. You need someone to cook and measure and I need someone to read to me – not once or twice but whenever I’m free!”
“Oh, I could think of nothing better.” A smile made its way on to Miss Andrew’s face, which was not used to smiling. “I have many books I could bring with me and teach you what I taught Luti.”
“Look, lady. I don’t want no ‘eddication’. All a pirate needs to learn is how to be a pirate. But –” and again there was a note of warning –, “I won’t have anyone in my house unless they can be a proper shipmate and dance the Sailor’s Hornpipe!”