“It’s Bruno,” my grandmother said.
“You nasty cheeky old woman!” shouted Mr Jerkins. He started flapping his newspaper at Bruno, trying to sweep him off the table. My grandmother rushed forward and managed to grab hold of him before he was swept away. Mrs Jerkins was still screaming her head off and Mr Jerkins was towering over us and shouting, “Get out of here! How dare you frighten my wife like that! Take your filthy mouse away this instant!”
“Help!” screamed Mrs Jerkins. Her face had gone the colour of the underside of a fish.
“Well, I did my best,” my grandmother said, and with that she turned and sailed out of the room, carrying Bruno with her.
The Plan
When we got back to the bedroom, my grandmother took both me and Bruno out of her handbag and put us on the table. “Why on earth didn’t you speak up and tell your father who you were?” she said to Bruno.
“Because I had my mouth full,” Bruno said. He jumped straight back into the bowl of bananas and went on with his eating.
“What a very disagreeable little boy you are,” my grandmother said to him.
“Not boy,” I said. “Mouse.”
“Quite right, my darling. But we don’t have time to worry about him at this moment. We have plans to make. In about an hour and a half’s time, all the witches will be going down to supper in the Dining Room. Right?”
“Right,” I said.
“And every one of them has got to be given a dose of Mouse-Maker,” she said. “How on earth are we going to do that?”
“Grandmamma,” I said. “I think you are forgetting that a mouse can go places where human beings can’t.”
“That’s quite right,” she said. “But even a mouse can’t go creeping around on the table-top carrying a bottle and sprinkling Mouse-Maker all over the witches’ roast beef without being spotted.”
“I wasn’t thinking of doing it in the Dining Room,” I said.
“Then where?” she asked.
“In the kitchen,” I said, “while their food is being got ready.”
My grandmother stared at me. “My darling child,” she said slowly, “I do believe that turning you into a mouse has doubled your brain-power!”
“A little mouse”, I said, “can go scuttling round the kitchen among the pots and pans, and if he’s very careful no one will ever see him.”
“Brilliant!” my grandmother cried out. “By golly, I think you’ve got it!”
“The only thing is,” I said, “how will I know which food is theirs? I don’t want to put it in the wrong saucepan. It would be disastrous if I turned all the other guests into mice by mistake, and especially you, Grandmamma.”
“Then you’ll just have to creep into the kitchen and find a good hiding-place and wait… and listen. Just lie there in some dark cranny listening and listening to what the cooks are saying… and then, with a bit of luck, somebody’s going to give you a clue. Whenever they have a very big party to cook for, the food is always prepared separately.”
“Right,” I said. “That’s what I’ll have to do. I shall wait there and I shall listen and I shall hope for a bit of luck.”
“It’s going to be very dangerous,” my grandmother said. “Nobody welcomes a mouse in the kitchen. If they see you, they’ll squash you to death.”
“I won’t let them see me,” I said.
“Don’t forget you’ll be carrying the bottle,” she said, “so you won’t be nearly so quick and nippy.”
“I can run quite fast standing up with the bottle in my arms,” I said. “I did it just now, don’t you remember? I came all the way up from The Grand High Witch’s room carrying it.”
“What about unscrewing the top?” she said. “That might be difficult for you.”
“Let me try,” I said. I took hold of the little bottle and using both my front paws, I found I was able to unscrew the cap quite easily.
“That’s great,” my grandmother said. “You really are a very clever mouse.” She glanced at her watch. “At half-past seven,” she said, “I shall go down to the Dining-Room for supper with you in my handbag. I shall then release you under the table together with the precious bottle and from then on you’ll be on your own. You will have to work your way unseen across the Dining-Room to the door that leads into the kitchen. There will be waiters going in and out of that door all the time. You will have to choose the right moment and nip in behind one of them, but for heaven’s sake be sure that you don’t get trodden on or squeezed in the door.”