Mrs. Cunningham repeated it. He looked puzzled, bowed again, and went out of the gate. He disappeared with his wife up the lane.
‘Well, he’s not from Italy!’ said Mrs. Cunningham. ‘I called out to him in Italian to say that he was to give my best wishes to Mrs. Ellis-and he didn’t understand a word!’
Chapter 10
AN URGENT GALL
JACK slipped out to make sure that the couple went back to the farm. He came back to report that they had and Bill held a conference at once. Gussy had been hauled with difficulty out of the wardrobe.
He had recognized the woman but not the man. ‘She is Madame Tatiosa,’ he said. ‘The wife of the Prime Minister. I hate her! She is clever and sharp and cruel.’
‘What-that pretty young woman!’ said Mrs. Cunningham in astonishment.
‘Yes,’ said Gussy, nodding his head vigorously. ‘Once she was a spy for our country. My uncle told me. A very clever spy. And she married the Prime Minister, and tells him what to do.’
‘Hm,’ said Bill. ‘And you didn’t know the man, Gussy? Not that that matters. You’ve recognized one of them and so we know for certain that they’re after you. I almost think we’d better clear out. I really don’t know what to do for the best! I think I’d better take you and hand you over to the keepers in the Tower of London! You’d at least be safe there!’
‘But you said, Bill, that if there were only two of them, the man and the woman, they couldn’t very well do anything to Gussy,’ said Jack. ‘Why not let one of us keep watch each day to make sure no other car comes down to the farm-or no other visitor? I can easily go and spend the day at the farm, and watch-and Philip can watch the next day.’
‘I think perhaps you’re right,’ said Bill, puffing at his pipe. ‘Anyway-we’ll stay put for the next two days, and wait for the enemy to make the next move. There’s no doubt that they think Gussy’s the boy they want. I expect Mrs. Ellis has described him carefully to them-and he’s easily described!’
‘Yes-long hair, for one thing,’ grinned Jack. ‘Shall I nip along to the farm now, Bill, and keep watch for the rest of the day? I can go and ask for some butter or something, and then hang round, helping with a few jobs. I’d like that, anyway.’
‘Right. You go,’ said Bill, and Jack sped off with Kiki on his shoulder. The others got up to go for a walk, well away from the farm! ‘Take your tea,’ said Mrs. Cunningham. ‘Nobody will know where you are, if you go off for a walk, so nobody will be able to find you! You should be quite safe, Gussy!’
So Gussy, Philip and the two girls went off with a picnic basket. They walked for about two miles and then found a glade that was golden with polished celandines. They sat down, hot with their walk.
‘This is heavenly,’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘I do love celandines. They look as if someone polished them every single morning. Jolly good workman he must be-he never misses a petal!’
Dinah gave a scream. ‘Oh-what’s that on your shoulder, Philip! Oh, it’s a mouse!’
Philip’s dormouse had decided that the pocket he lived in was getting too hot for his liking. So he had squeezed his way out, run up Philip’s vest, and appeared through the opening of his collar. There he was now, sitting up on the boy’s shoulder.
‘Oh-a dormouse!’ cried Lucy-Ann, in delight. ‘What’s his name, Philip? Will he let me hold him?’
‘His name is Snoozy and it suits him,’ said Philip. He felt in a pocket and brought out a nut. He gave it to Lucy-Ann. ‘Here, take this. Offer it to him on the palm of your hand and he’ll run over to you.’
Lucy-Ann balanced the nut on her palm and held it out to the tiny mouse, being careful not to move too quickly. The dormouse watched her hand coming close to Philip’s shoulder, and his whiskers quivered as his nose twitched.
‘He can smell the nut,’ said Philip. ‘Keep quite still, Lucy-Ann. There he goes! How do you like the feel of his tiny feet?’
‘Oh, lovely!’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘Isn’t he a dear, Philip. I wish I had one too.’
‘I’ll try and get you one,’ said Philip.
But Dinah gave a squeal at once. ‘No! She sleeps with me, and I’m not having mice in the bedroom.’
‘But this is a dormouse, not a house-mouse,’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘It doesn’t smell, or anything. It’s just perfectly sweet.’
Snoozy nibbled daintily at the nut. A bit broke off and he took it into his front paws, sitting up just like a squirrel. He looked at Lucy-Ann out of his bright eyes.
‘He’s got such big black eyes that they really are like mirrors,’ she said. ‘I can see my own face, very tiny, in each of them.’
‘Can you?’ said Gussy, in surprise and put his face close to Lucy-Ann’s to look into the big eyes of the dormouse. It fled at once, disappearing down Philip’s neck at top speed.
‘You idiot, Gussy,’ said Lucy-Ann, in disgust. ‘You would do a thing like that.’
‘Excuse, pliss. I pollygize,’ said Gussy. ‘I beg your pardon, Lucy-Ann.’
‘All right. But I do hope Snoozy will come back,’ said Lucy-Ann, rather cross.
He peeped out of Philip’s neck once or twice, but he wouldn’t come right out. ‘He’s not absolutely tame yet,’ explained Philip. ‘I’ve not had him long enough. But he soon will be. He’ll be coming out at meal-times soon and nibbling his little nut on my bread-plate.’
‘Not if I can help it,’ said Dinah.
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Philip. ‘You simply don’t try to like dormice. You …’
‘Someone coming,’ said Lucy-Ann, suddenly. Her sharp ears had caught the sound of voices.
‘Get under that bush, Gussy,’ ordered Philip. ‘Go on, quick!’
Gussy vanished at once, and the bush closed over him. It was a pity it was a gorse bush, but Gussy didn’t have time to think of prickles.
Two men came by, talking in the broad accent of the countryside. One was the man who had told Philip so much about badgers. He waved to him.
‘It’ll be a good night for badgers tonight!’ he called. ‘Moonlight-and that’s what they like.’
‘Come out, Gus,’ said Philip, when the men had passed. ‘False alarm.’
Gussy crawled out, scratched on face, hands and knees by the gorse prickles. He was nearly in tears.
‘He blids,’ said Dinah unkindly. ‘Gus, you are blidding all over.’
‘It’s nothing much,’ said Philip, taking out his handkerchief and scrubbing the drops of blood away here and there. ‘Everyone gets pricked by gorse sooner or later. Cheer up, Gus. And for goodness’ sake don’t be a baby.’
‘I don’t like blidding,’ said poor Gussy, in a woebegone voice. ‘It makes me feel sick.’
‘Well, be sick then,’ said hard-hearted Dinah. ‘But don’t make a FUSS.’
Gussy made a valiant effort and swallowed hard. He didn’t cry after all. What a victory!
After they had eaten every crumb of their tea, they decided to go back. Philip wanted to have a look at the quarry on the way to see if he thought that badgers might really make that their haunt.
He wandered round the big deserted place, examining the hedges round for signs of a badger’s sett. The girls and Gussy ran the few hundred yards that lay between the quarry and the cottage. Lucy-Ann thought they ought to, in case any enemy was lying in wait!
‘Any news?’ she asked, as they went indoors, panting. ‘Has Jack come back from the farm yet?’
He hadn’t. Nobody had any news at all, it seemed. Jack had none either, when he came.
‘Not a soul came to the farm,’ he said. ‘And I didn’t even see the man and the woman. They must have been in their room all the time. Once I heard a “ting”-as if somebody was using the telephone. It might have been them.’
‘Can’t tell,’ said Bill. ‘Well-I seem to have had a lazy day. I’ve got some papers to read and then I suppose it will be supper-time. There’s going to be a fine moon tonight!’
‘Just right for badgers,’ Philip whispered to Jack. ‘Like to come out and see if we can find any?’
‘Rather,’ said Jack. ‘We can slip out when the others are in bed. Gussy always sleeps so soundly, he’ll never hear!’
Supper-time came. Gold ham, a salad, junket and cream. ‘Just the right kind of meal,’ said Philip. ‘Why can’t we have this kind of food at school?’
‘Don’t let’s start up the subject of school meals again, Philip,’ said his mother. ‘You’re yawning. Go to bed!’
‘I think I will,’ said Philip. ‘Coming, Jack?’