‘You’re a rum sort of girl too,’ said Cyril.
‘Cyril! You might try to be polite,’ said Anthea. She looked at me. ‘So you really wished to meet us?’
‘Yes, I always thought we might – we might be friends,’ I said, blushing and feeling a fool.
‘Oh, how lovely of you! Of course we’ll be friends,’ said Anthea. ‘Look, you must come back home and have tea with us. So your name is …?’
‘I’m Rosalind. This is my brother, Robbie – and you’ve met Maudie – and this is my stepsister, Samantha, though we all call her Smash,’ I said.
‘Your stepsister, like in Cinderella?’ said Jane.
‘Yeah, I’m like really mean and spiteful and ugly,’ said Smash, pulling a hideous face.
Jane took a step back, thinking she was serious.
‘She’s just fooling around,’ I said quickly. ‘Her mum married my dad.’
‘Worst luck,’ said Smash.
‘Did your mother die then, Rosalind?’ Anthea asked sympathetically.
‘Oh no, she’s fine. Well, she is now, though she was ever so upset at first, when they got divorced,’ I said.
The four children blinked as if I’d said a rude word.
‘You poor thing!’ Anthea said, patting my arm.
‘But she’s fine now. She’s away at an Open University Summer School and –’
‘Your mother is at university?’ said Anthea. ‘Oh my goodness, she must be immensely clever.’
‘Not really. She just wanted a bit of a change. She’s hoping to get a different sort of job when she’s got her degree. She’s a bit fed up working in the bank,’ I said.
‘Your mother works in a bank?’ said Jane, sounding incredulous. ‘Oh, how lovely! Does she bring you home lots and lots of money? We had money once, great big heaps of gold coins, but we couldn’t spend them anywhere, so it was a total swizzle. We so wanted to be rich. You must be extremely rich, though, because banks have lots and lots of money.’
‘Stow it, Jane!’ Cyril hissed. ‘Their people must be very poor if their mother has to work.’
‘Life’s different in our time,’ I said awkwardly. ‘In lots and lots of ways. Women go out to work because they want to.’
‘But who looks after the house? Do you have lots of servants?’ Anthea asked.
‘We don’t usually have servants. Well, my mum has Bridget, our cleaning lady, but she only comes once a week,’ said Smash.
‘We all do our share,’ I said. ‘Our dad does the vacuuming, doesn’t he?’
‘What’s that?’ said Jane.
‘He – he sweeps the carpet with a special machine.’
‘Your father does that?’ said Robert, sounding astonished. He looked at my Robbie. ‘So in the future do boys do housework too?’
‘Yes – I do stuff like loading the dishwasher.’
They looked blank.
‘That’s another machine that washes up the crockery,’ I said.
‘Oh, what fun!’ said Jane. ‘I like the sound of all these machines – and I especially like it that boys have to help in the house like girls. Oh, can we ask the Psammead to wish us into your time?’
‘So long as we don’t have to do all this housework!’ said Robert.
‘But first you’re our guests here, so please come up to the house,’ said Anthea, taking hold of my hand.
Anthea, Jane, Maudie and I walked up the little path from the gravel pit. Cyril and Robert climbed up the edge. Robbie tried to copy them, but kept slipping back and had to follow us along the path. Smash climbed up too, and beat Cyril and Robert to the top. She showed off considerably when she got there. Anthea didn’t say anything, but she looked at me. We both rolled our eyes and then grinned. I knew we would be friends!
It was quite a long walk up the hill to the house, through a little brambly wood. I ended up carrying Maudie.
‘Are you allowed out by yourselves like this, or will your dad be cross with you when we get back?’ said Robbie, trying to brush the gravel off his T-shirt.
‘Oh, Father’s nearly always away on business, worst luck,’ said Robert. ‘But he lets us go anywhere, doesn’t he, Cyril?’
‘So long as I keep an eye on everyone,’ said Cyril, with a lordly air. But then he held out his hand to Robbie in a friendly way. ‘Come on, little chap. Come with us boys.’
Robbie went pink, so pleased to be included, even though he hadn’t managed gravel-climbing. We went through an orchard and picked an apple each, munching as we walked, and then into a proper garden smelling wonderfully of white jasmine. Anthea and Jane picked some jasmine and wound it round their hats like ribbon.
‘Would you like some jasmine in your hair, Rosalind?’ asked Anthea, and made me a little crown of it. She politely offered some to Smash too, but she pulled a face at the idea.
The French windows were open at the back of the house so we could wander in. It was very dark inside, out of the sunlight, probably because there were thick net curtains and heavy velvet drapes at every window. The rooms were crowded with big dark furniture so that it looked very grand but a little gloomy.
‘Mother’s out visiting an old friend, so let’s have tea up in the nursery,’ said Anthea. ‘Jane, run and tell Cook that we have four guests and ask for two kinds of cake if possible.’
‘You’ve got your own cook?’ said Smash, looking impressed. ‘Can you tell her to cook anything you want? What fun! Could we have three kinds of cake – or even four?’
‘Cook’s not always very obliging,’ said Jane. ‘Do I have to be the one to ask her? She’ll be feeling extra grumpy today.’
‘Yes, but you know you’re her favourite. If anyone can get round her, you can,’ said Anthea.
‘Go on, Jane, be a sport,’ said Cyril.
Jane sighed, but ran off obligingly.
‘Why is your cook feeling really grumpy today?’ Robbie asked.
‘She’s in a bit of a stew with us because we used up all her pots and pans for helmets when we were playing battles, and we were hitting each other on the head with ladles and they got a bit dented – the saucepans, not our heads. Though I did have a big bump on my head too, actually,’ said Robert. ‘Do you like playing battles, Robbie?’
Robbie looked uncertain.
‘I suppose you can’t, not properly, if you’ve only got sisters,’ said Robert. ‘Never mind, I dare say you could play with Squirrel and me.’
‘Thank you!’ said Robbie.
‘No battles today, or we won’t get any tea at all,’ said Anthea. ‘Come upstairs, everyone.’
There was a wide staircase with a shiny polished banister.
‘We’re not supposed to play on the banisters because I fell off and bumped my head – again,’ said Robert.
‘But we do,’ said Cyril. ‘So feel free to have a little ride on the banister if you want to.’
Smash wanted to very much, of course. She ran to the top of the stairs and then simply whizzed down, shrieking with laughter.
‘Sh now, what’s that dreadful noise! You’ve only gone and woken up his little lordship, when I’ve just got him off to sleep!’ A rather fierce-looking woman came out on to the landing, glaring at all of us.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, because I wasn’t sure that Smash would apologize.
‘Is that your mother? I thought you said she’d gone out to tea? Does she get very cross?’ Robbie asked nervously.
‘That’s Martha, our nurse,’ said Robert. ‘Don’t worry, she’s often cross, but she doesn’t really mean it.’
‘Why do you have a nurse? Are you ill?’ Robbie asked.
‘Well, she looks after our little brother now,’ said Robert. ‘We chaps can look after ourselves, mostly.’
We could hear wails and a small voice saying determinedly ‘Wanty Panter!’
Maudie looked up, smiling. ‘Who that?’
‘You might as well let the Lamb get up to meet our guests, Martha, seeing as he’s awake,’ said Anthea cheerily.
>
She led us all into a beautiful nursery bedroom with a dog on wheels and a scrap screen and little complicated white clothes airing on a fender. A small boy stood up in his cot, shaking the bars, eager to be lifted out. He had fair curls and big blue eyes and very pink cheeks and looked extraordinarily like a little boy version of Maudie. Both toddlers pointed at each other, laughing.
‘There now! Let’s get you out, my little duckie,’ said Anthea, lifting him up.
‘He’ll likely be grizzling and grumbling all afternoon now because he hasn’t had his nap,’ said Martha, but the Lamb seemed in an exceptionally sunny mood. He nodded at all of us and gave Maudie a delighted hug.
‘We’re going to have nursery tea today, Martha,’ said Anthea. ‘Why don’t you go downstairs and have a nice cup of tea with Cook? We’ll look after the Lamb for you.’
‘Well, see he doesn’t get into mischief. And that goes for the rest of you too.’ She frowned at Anthea and Cyril and Robert, and positively glared at all of us.
‘I don’t know where you met up with those strange children, but they don’t look like proper gentlefolk at all. Look at the rags they’re wearing! They’re scarcely decent. I don’t know what your mother would say, Miss Anthea,’ said Martha.
‘She’d say, “How lovely to meet you and I hope you have a splendid tea,”’ said Anthea.
‘Off you go now, Martha,’ said Cyril – and she did.
I wondered what it would be like to order adults around like that. Smash looked as if she’d like it tremendously.
Anthea picked up the Lamb and led us into the day nursery next door. There were chairs and a table and a rag rug and brightly coloured religious pictures on the walls – but we only had eyes for the toys. We saw an enormous rocking horse with a long mane and tail and a red leather saddle, a Noah’s ark with painted wooden animals parading along the lino, a fort with a troop of little lead soldiers, and a group of dolls sitting in a cluster with miniature cups and saucers and plates, having a meal of daisies and grass and broken matches.
‘They’re eating fried eggs and green beans and chipped potatoes,’ said Anthea. ‘Jane and I gave them a feast yesterday and they’re still eating it.’
‘You play with dolls?’ said Smash.
‘We love our dolls,’ said Anthea, without a hint of embarrassment. ‘Why, what do you play?’
‘I don’t play with any kind of toys,’ said Smash – though I knew for a fact she had a little toy mouse that she slept with. She hid it under her pillow or up the sleeve of her pyjamas, but when she was asleep she snuggled it against her nose like a comfort blanket.
‘I love your Noah’s ark. Look, my animals can join in the parade,’ said Robbie, taking out his lion and tiger.
‘But they’re different species,’ said Cyril. ‘They can’t be a pair.’
‘Yes, they can – and if they breed they can start a whole new species of tions and ligers,’ said Robbie.
Robert laughed.
‘That’s a great wheeze, Robbie! Let’s mix all the animals up!’ He seized a giraffe and a zebra. ‘Look, here’s Mr Giraffe and Mrs Zebra and they’re going to have a splendid family of little gee-ebras.’
They carried on mixing up the animals, roaring with laughter. Cyril looked a little scornful and lay on his stomach, idly assembling the lead soldiers into a platoon. Smash sat a little way away, watching. Then she deftly rolled a marble – and half Cyril’s soldiers keeled over.
‘Do you have to be such a pest?’ said Cyril.
‘It was a cannonball. I’ve declared war,’ said Smash.
‘You want to play battles?’ said Cyril. ‘All right, you can have half my soldiers.’
‘Not the dead ones!’ said Smash, squatting down beside him. ‘What can we have for weapons?’
They started a battle game that became increasingly traumatic. Smash kept up a running commentary as if she was a war correspondent, describing every wound and injury.
‘Your sister’s very bloodthirsty,’ said Anthea. ‘You don’t want to play battles, do you, Rosalind?’
‘I’d much sooner play dolls with you,’ I said.
I thought Maudie would like to play dolls too, but she had invented a new game with the Lamb called Walky Doggy. They took turns pushing the dog on wheels, running fast and frequently ramming it into the furniture – or us.
Jane came skipping up from the kitchen.
‘I got round Cook! I threw my arms round her and said she was a dear, kind, lovely Cook and could we possibly have an extra jolly tea as we have special guests, and she’s busy icing a sponge cake and whipping up a batch of scones too!’
‘I could make chocolate crispy cakes if you like – they’re very yummy,’ said Robbie.
‘You can make cakes?’ said Robert, amazed.
‘I’m actually quite good at it,’ said Robbie. ‘I got to be a rich and famous chef on television. Well, it was a Psammead wish, but it was still me making all the dishes.’
‘What’s television?’ asked Robert.
‘Well, it’s – it’s this big moving picture thing and you watch stuff,’ said Robbie.
‘Ah yes, Father’s told me all about moving pictures,’ said Robert. ‘Well, fancy you being in one! Lucky you, Robbie!’
‘Let’s dress the dolls and put them to bed now, seeing as they’ve been eating this meal all day long,’ said Anthea. ‘Have you been in a moving picture, Rosalind?’
‘No, but when we were rich and famous I found I wrote books,’ I said shyly, carefully undressing the biggest doll. These dolls wore far more intricate clothing than my old Barbies. It was quite a struggle getting her little button boots off, and her pinafore and dress and petticoats.
‘Here’s her nightgown,’ said Jane. ‘Cover her up quickly. She’s blushing because she’s only wearing her unders!’
‘You write books?’ said Anthea.
‘It was just part of the Psammead wish. I expect I ended up writing books because I love reading so much,’ I said.
‘Oh, so do I!’ said Anthea. ‘What’s your favourite book? I like Little Women.’
‘Oh, I love that book too. I especially like Jo, don’t you? And isn’t it sad when Beth gets ill?’
‘I cried and cried,’ said Anthea.
‘So did I,’ said Jane. ‘And I cried in What Katy Did when she fell off her swing. I never thought she’d get better.’
‘I didn’t like the Cousin Helen part much, though. She was so saintly I wanted to slap her,’ I said.
‘Oh, me too, me too!’ said Anthea.
‘It’s so lovely to meet girls who like my sort of books!’ I said. ‘I think my all-time favourite is A Little Princess, though.’
Anthea and Jane looked blank.
‘Ah, I don’t expect it’s been published yet. Well, look out for it. I think you’ll love it. Sara has a very special doll in that book. She’s called Emily and she has hundreds of different little outfits. I read that part over and over again, I liked it so much. And then there are lots of really sad scenes where Sara has to be a servant, and she’s starving in an attic and the only friend she has left in the world is this little rat Melchisedec.’
‘Oh, I should so love to have a pet rat,’ said Jane. ‘Or any kind of pet at all, come to that.’
‘I had a pet Siamese kitten called Tina. I loved her so much, even though I only had her for one day,’ I said.
‘Of course, we have the Psammead,’ said Anthea. ‘But it doesn’t really belong to us and it certainly doesn’t behave like a pet. Though it did cuddle up on my lap once.’
‘It’s not really a bit cuddly with Robbie and me,’ I said. ‘And certainly not with Smash. But it did let Maudie pat him a little.’
‘Shall we go back and see him after tea? There’s still heaps of time before sunset to make a wish,’ said Anthea.
‘But we’ve already had our wish,’ I said. ‘It only wants us to have one wish each day.’
‘Yes, but we haven’t had our wish yet!’ sai
d Anthea. ‘Jane and I had to go shopping with Mother this morning and then we played battles with Cook’s pots and pans after lunch, so we’re very late with our wish today. We were just getting round to it when you all popped up and stopped us – and of course it was a lovely surprise,’ she added politely.
There was a knocking on the nursery door.
‘Come and give us a hand then, Miss Anthea and Miss Jane. My arms are being pulled right out of their sockets, this tray’s so loaded.’
The tray was filled with a pot of tea with milk and sugar, a plate of little triangles of bread and butter, another of golden scones with a pot of strawberry jam, and three kinds of cake: iced sponge, lemon squares and little fancy cakes filled with chocolate cream and a crystallized violet topping each one.
‘I hope this passes muster,’ said the cook, sniffing. ‘It would be nice to have a little warning next time you take it into your heads to invite home all and sundry.’
‘Oh, dear Cook, you’ve totally turned up trumps,’ said Jane, giving her another hug.
‘Now, now, Miss Jane, calm down,’ said Cook, but she gave Jane a little hug all the same. It was clear Jane was her favourite.
Anthea laid cups and saucers and plates on the nursery table and spread out our feast. We all sat round and started tucking in. Maudie and the Lamb could only sit still for two minutes. They grabbed a handful of cake each and tottered round the room ‘feeding’ the dog alternately.
‘This is a really lovely tea,’ I said. I crunched on the crystallized violet and licked at the milky chocolate cream. ‘I especially like these cakes! I wish we had them in our time.’
‘What sort of cakes do you have at teatime then?’ asked Cyril, biting into a huge slice of sponge.
‘We don’t really have any cakes,’ said Smash, cutting herself an even larger slice and stuffing all of it in at once.
‘We do,’ said Robbie. ‘I make chocolate crispy cakes – and maybe when we get home I could make sponge. I like sponge.’
‘So what do you mostly eat at teatime?’ asked Robert.
‘We don’t have a teatime as such. If we’re hungry – which I always am – we might have crisps or cookies, or sometimes I hang out round McDonald’s after school and have a burger and French fries,’ said Smash.