But – around the leg of the driver was knotted a small, white handkerchief and, sprawling across the grass, as though someone had dropped it as they ran, was a red-and-white checked scarf. At one end of it was stitched a large white label bearing the initials: M.P.
“So that’s where she lost it!” said Michael, nodding his head wisely. “Shall we tell her we’ve found it?”
Jane glanced round. Mary Poppins was buttoning on her apron and looking as if the whole world had insulted her.
“Better not,” she said softly. “I expect she knows.”
For a moment Jane stood there, gazing at the cracked Bowl, the knotted handkerchief and the scarf.
Then with a wild rush she ran across the room and flung herself upon the starched white figure.
“Oh,” she cried. “Oh, Mary Poppins! I’ll never be naughty again!”
A faint, disbelieving smile twinkled at the corners of Mary Poppins’ mouth as she smoothed out the creases from her apron.
“Humph!” was all she said.
Chapter Four
TOPSY TURVY
“KEEP CLOSE TO me, please!” said Mary Poppins, stepping out of the Bus and putting up her umbrella, for it was raining heavily.
Jane and Michael scrambled out after her.
“If I keep close to you the drips from your umbrella run down my neck,” complained Michael.
“Don’t blame me, then, if you get lost and have to ask a Policeman!” snapped Mary Poppins, as she neatly avoided a puddle.
She paused outside the Chemist’s shop at the corner so that she could see herself reflected in the three gigantic bottles in the window. She could see a Green Mary Poppins, a Blue Mary Poppins and a Red Mary Poppins all at once. And each one of them was carrying a brand-new leather handbag with brass knobs on it.
Mary Poppins looked at herself in the three bottles and smiled a pleased and satisfied smile. She spent some minutes changing the handbag from her right hand to her left, trying it in every possible position to see how it looked best. Then she decided that, after all, it was most effective when tucked under her arm. So she left it there.
Jane and Michael stood beside her, not daring to say anything but glancing across at each other and sighing inside themselves. And from two points of her parrot-handled umbrella the rain trickled uncomfortably down the backs of their necks.
“Now then – don’t keep me waiting!” said Mary Poppins crossly, turning away from the Green, Blue and Red reflections of herself. Jane and Michael exchanged glances. Jane signalled to Michael to keep quiet. She shook her head and made a face at him. But he burst out:
“We weren’t. It was you keeping us waiting—!”
“Silence!”
Michael did not dare to say any more. He and Jane trudged along, one on either side of Mary Poppins. The rain poured down, dancing from the top of the umbrella on to their hats. Under her arm Jane carried the Royal Doulton Bowl wrapped carefully in two pieces of paper. They were taking it to Mary Poppins’ cousin, Mr Turvy, whose business, she told Mrs Banks, was mending things.
“Well,” Mrs Banks had said, rather doubtfully, “I hope he will do it satisfactorily, for until it is mended I shall not be able to look my Great-Aunt Caroline in the face.”
Great-Aunt Caroline had given Mrs Banks the bowl when Mrs Banks was only three, and it was well known that if it were broken Great-Aunt Caroline would make one of her famous scenes.
“Members of my family, ma’am,” Mary Poppins had retorted with a sniff, “always give satisfaction.”
And she had looked so fierce that Mrs Banks felt quite uncomfortable and had to sit down and ring for a cup of tea.
Swish!
There was Jane, right in the middle of a puddle.
“Look where you’re going, please!” snapped Mary Poppins, shaking her umbrella and tossing the drips over Jane and Michael. “This rain is enough to break your heart.”
“If it did, could Mr Turvy mend it?” enquired Michael. He was interested to know if Mr Turvy could mend all broken things or only certain kinds.
“One more word,” said Mary Poppins,” and Back Home you go!”
“I only asked,” said Michael sulkily.
“Then don’t!”
Mary Poppins, with an angry sniff, turned the corner smartly and, opening an old iron gate, knocked at the door of a small tumble-down building.
“Tap-tap-tappity-tap!” The sound of the knocker echoed hollowly through the house.
“Oh, dear,” Jane whispered to Michael,” how awful if he’s out!”
But at that moment heavy footsteps were heard tramping towards them, and with a loud rattle the door opened.
A round, red-faced woman, looking more like two apples placed one on top of the other than a human being, stood in the doorway. Her straight hair was scraped into a knob at the top of her head, and her thin mouth had a cross and peevish expression.
“Well!” she said, staring. “It’s you or I’m a Dutchman!”
She did not seem particularly pleased to see Mary Poppins. Nor did Mary Poppins seem particularly pleased to see her.
“Is Mr Turvy in?” she enquired, without taking any notice of the woman’s remark.
“Well,” said the round woman in an unfriendly voice, “I wouldn’t be certain. He may be or he may not. It’s all a matter of how you happen to look at it.”
Mary Poppins stepped through the door and peered about her.
“That’s his hat, isn’t it,” she demanded, pointing to an old felt hat that hung on a peg in the hall.
“Well, it is, of course – in a manner of speaking.” The round woman admitted the fact unwillingly.
“Then he’s in,” said Mary Poppins. “No member of my family ever goes out without a hat. They’re much too respectable.”
“Well, all I can tell you is what he said to me this morning,” said the round woman. “‘Miss Tartlet,’ he said,’I may be in this afternoon and I may not. It is quite impossible to tell.’ That’s what he said. But you’d better go up and see for yourself. I’m not a Mountaineer.”
The round woman glanced down at her round body and shook her head. Jane and Michael could easily understand that a person of her size and shape would not want to climb Mr Turvy’s narrow, rickety stairs very often.
Mary Poppins sniffed.
“Follow me, please!” She snapped the words at Jane and Michael, and they ran after her up the creaking stairs.
Miss Tartlet stood in the hall watching them with a superior smile on her face.
At the top landing Mary Poppins knocked on the door with the head of the umbrella. There was no reply. She knocked again – louder this time. Still there was no answer.
“Cousin Arthur!” she called through the key-hole. “Cousin Arthur, are you in?”
“No, I’m out!” came a far-away voice from within.
“How can he be out? I can hear him!” whispered Michael to Jane.
“Cousin Arthur!” Mary Poppins rattled the door-handle. “I know you’re in.”
“No, no, I’m not!” came the far-away voice. “I’m out, I tell you. It’s the Second Monday!”
“Oh, dear – I’d forgotten!” said Mary Poppins, and with an angry movement she turned the handle and flung open the door.