Read Jasper and the Green Marvel Online
Authors: Deirdre Madden
Jasper and the Green Marvel (5 page)
The following morning, when Jasper was on his way out to work, Mrs Knuttmegg came out of the kitchen and handed him a bucket with a lid on it.
‘What’s this all about?’
‘It’s for the compost heap,’ she said. ‘You know where the orchard is, with the high wall all around it? At the back of that, beside the potting shed, you’ll find the compost heap.’ Without another word she went back into the kitchen and slammed the door closed.
As soon as he was outside, Jasper lifted the lid of the bucket and peeped in. ‘Oh yuk!’
To his disgust, it was full to the brim with potato peelings and egg shells, old tea bags and turnip tops. ‘How dare she! The cheek of it! Who does that woman think she is, handing a pile of muck like that to me? ME, Jasper Jellit!’
He wanted to go back inside and empty the whole lot over Mrs Knutmegg’s head, right there in the middle of her own kitchen, but he knew that he had to behave himself, especially after all that business with the chocolates.
Thinking of this, he patted his pockets to make sure that the rats were there. Yes, he could feel them through the cloth of his jacket. He was going to have to keep a strict eye on them from now on, to make sure that they didn’t get him into any more trouble.
He was in for an even bigger shock when he got to the back of the orchard. Right beside the shed was an enormous heap of kitchen waste, spilling out of the top of a big wooden crate. Jasper knew nothing at all about gardens, and so he didn’t know that if you pile up lots of old
vegetable peelings and coffee grounds, banana skins and so on, they will rot, and all the worms will get to work on them. In no time at all you’ll have a lovely rich brown compost to put on your flowers and plants, to make them grow strong and healthy.
Jasper thought that Mrs Knutmegg was nasty and crazy and that she did strange things like this just to spite him.
It has to be said that the compost heap smelt pretty horrible. Holding his nose, Jasper took the lid off the bucket and poured the contents on to the pile of rotting mush. ‘Yuk and double yuk!’ he cried. ‘Yuk three times!’
All at once, Rags and Bags hopped out of his pocket. Rats aren’t too fussy about what they eat, and, smelling all the decaying food, they thought that there might be a few
tasty-bites
going. But just before they could dive in, something very strange happened.
Music began to play. It seemed to be coming from the orchard, on the other side of the wall,
where someone was playing a flute. Oh but it was the saddest music you can imagine! It was mournful and slow, a heartbreaking melody. Jasper had been cross up until then, but now he felt very gloomy. The rats had been just about to dive into the pile of kitchen scraps, but they stopped dead. They stood there with their ears flat on their heads, and their whiskers drooping.
‘Isn’t this miserable, lads?’ Jasper said, and he began to sob. The two rats nodded. They threw their little paws around each other and they also began to cry, tears pouring down their snouts as they hugged each other and wept. ‘Boo hoo hoo!’ Jasper wailed. ‘I want my mammy!’ Never in all his life had he felt so unhappy. He pulled out his hanky and blew his nose. On and on the music went. The rats were lying on the ground now, sobbing their beady eyes out.
Just when they all thought they couldn’t bear it for another minute, the music began to fade away. As it did, the mood began to change.
Jasper didn’t feel quite so bad now. He put away his hanky. The rats sat up and sniffed and gulped. They wiped the last of their tears away with their paws. The music faded and grew fainter, until there was silence but for the sound of the breeze in the branches of the trees. They all felt foolish and strange and wondered what had come over them.
‘This is the oddest, most unpleasant place I’ve ever been,’ Jasper muttered to himself. ‘If only I could find the Green Marvel. Then I could leave, never to return!’
Going down in the dumb-waiter that night Rags and Bags both felt extremely nervous and hoped they wouldn’t meet the big bat again. They wanted to go to the kitchen but still didn’t know how to work the dumb-waiter properly, and much to their annoyance when the doors opened they discovered that they were in the drawing room again. This time there was nothing to eat, as Mrs
Haverford-Snuffley
had had the good sense to hide her chocolates before she went to bed. There was no getting away from it: as they continued their exploration of the house they were going
to have to go through the hallway, whether they liked it or not.
To their great relief, there was no sign of the big bat, but Nelly was there as usual, hanging upside down from the edge of the table, with her pale bonnet firmly tied on to her head.
‘Hello, Nelly! How are you?’
‘I’m all right,’ she replied cautiously.
‘Love the hat! It really suits you.’ She didn’t reply to this, but scowled down at them.
‘We’re really sorry we were mean to you,’ Rags said, ‘and we promise we won’t ever do anything like that ever again.’
Nelly narrowed her eyes. ‘Did Benny have a word with you?’
‘Benny? Who’s he?’
‘My big brother.’
The two rats nodded. ‘He, er, he sort of pointed out to us that we hadn’t been very kind to you,’ Rags said.
‘But we knew that anyway,’ Bags added.
‘And we will be nice from now on. Incredibly nice.’
And then Nelly said something that astonished them.
‘Can I be your friend?’
‘You?’ Bags replied before he could stop himself. ‘But you’re a girl! A soppy girl, and a bat into the bargain! We couldn’t poss—Ouch!’ Rags had given him a sudden sharp kick in the shins.
‘Of course you can be our friend!’ he cried. ‘There’s nothing we would like better. We were just about to ask you the same thing. I’m Rags and this is Bags. We’ll make a great team, the three of us.’
‘Oh, goody,’ said Nelly. ‘I’m so pleased. Now tell me, what are you up to? What are you doing prowling around the house in the middle of the night?’
‘We’re looking for the Green Marvel,’ Rags said. ‘Have you ever heard of it? Do you know what it is?’
‘I do, of course,’ Nelly replied. ‘It’s a necklace. Look, you can see it here in the painting.’ She unfurled her wings from her sides and fluttered up to settle on the golden frame. The rats were hugely impressed that she could do this. Even if she was a soppy girl, it was quite something to be able to fly.
‘Where are you looking?’ she asked.
‘That’s the problem,’ Rags said. ‘We hardly know where to begin. Do you have any ideas?’
‘Well, we could ask, I suppose.’
‘Ask who?’
‘Why Georgiana, of course. The woman in the painting. It was her necklace, after all, so she might be able to help.’
Rags and Bags looked at each other. What a strange little creature this bat was! What could she possibly mean? ‘Georgiana’s my friend,’ Nelly prattled on. ‘She likes me lots. I haven’t seen her in a while but we could go and ask her right now. Will we do that?’
‘Why not?’ Rags said, thinking it was best
to humour her. ‘We have no other plans for the night.’
‘Very good then,’ Nelly cried. ‘I’ll take you to her room. Follow me!’
The little bat fluttered up the wide staircase and the rats scampered after her. She then led them down a long narrow corridor until they came to a door at the end of it, which stood half open.
‘In here,’ she whispered.
There was a lovely moon that night. A cool silvery light shone through the high windows so that Rags and Bags could see where they were. The room was prettily furnished, like a little parlour, with a sofa and two chairs covered in yellow silk. The curtains were tied back with thick tasselled cords. There was a
bookcase full of small books, bound in leather, and a marble mantelpiece on which sat a golden clock.
‘But there’s nobody here,’ Bags said.
‘I have to call her,’ Nelly replied. ‘I’ll do it now but you won’t be able to hear me.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I have a special high-pitched call. People like Georgiana can hear it and other bats, but nobody else. Mrs Haverford-Snuffley can’t hear it either and she doesn’t even know about it.’
Nelly opened her mouth wide. It was red and moist against her dark furry body and it was full of narrow, pointed teeth. Rags and Bags thought she looked incredibly creepy. She gave a second silent cry.
And then it happened.
A beautiful young woman came into the room. The rats recognised her immediately from the painting downstairs. She had the same white skin and straight nose. Her reddish curls were piled high on top of her head and
she was wearing a dark blue silk dress. But she didn’t come through the door. She came straight through the wall. And with that Rags and Bags realised that she was a …
‘GHOST! AAARRRRGH! IT’S A GHOST! HELP! AAARGGHHH! GHOST! GHOST!’
And in exactly the same moment that they saw Georgiana, she saw them. She pulled her long dress up around her shins and jumped on to a chair.
‘RATS! AAAAARRGH! HELP! HELP! RATS! AAAAARRRRGH!’
Rags and Bags ran to the far side of the room and clung to each other in terror. Georgiana’s face had gone bright red from all the screaming. But when all three of them stopped to draw breath, they could hear the sound of Nelly laughing.
‘I never heard such a fuss in my life,’ she cried. ‘There’s nothing for anybody to be frightened about. Georgiana, get down from
that chair and let me introduce you. Rags and Bags, come out of that corner into the middle of the room.’
Very cautiously they did as Nelly commanded. ‘These are my new best friends,’ the bat said. ‘They wanted to meet you.’
‘But they’re rats,’ Georgiana insisted.
‘And you’re a ghost,’ Bags said. Georgiana shrugged her shoulders, so much as to say, Well, there’s nothing I can do about that, is there? But she was a polite, well-brought-up girl so she said, ‘How d’you do?’ and she gave them a nod of the head. ‘You’ll excuse me if I don’t shake your … paws.’
‘Not at all! Not at all!’ The rats had no wish to be touched by a ghost. They were very much regretting that they had agreed to meet her. They knew about ghosts because when they were living in the jail, there had been one particular prisoner who used to tell ghost stories to the other inmates, to pass the time on the long dark winter evenings. The rats
had used to hide under the chairs and listen in. They’d enjoyed every minute of it; they’d loved the thrill of a good fright.
But Georgiana wasn’t quite what they’d have expected in a ghost. For one thing, she wasn’t transparent. In spite of being able to walk through walls, she looked as solid as Jasper did. The rats also made the mistake of thinking she was pretty because she was a ghost. Having been born and brought up in a men’s prison, Rags and Bags had actually seen very few women. Of those that they did know, including Mrs Haverford-Snuffley, Mrs Knuttmegg and the café woman in the greasy pinny, none of them were great beauties. Georgiana, on the other hand, was loveliness itself. Her beauty was enhanced by a pearly light that surrounded her and that further gently illuminated the room. The rats guessed that this must have something to do with being a ghost, and although they found it spooky, they also thought there was something quite attractive about it.
‘I’ll sit here,’ Georgiana said, settling herself on the sofa in her billowing silk dress, ‘and why don’t you, Nelly my love, hang off the back of that chair over there, where I can see you? As for you pair,’ she said to the rats, ‘you can go there.’ She pointed out to Rags and Bags a velvet footstool near to where she was sitting. ‘Not too close, mind.’ She pushed the stool away a bit with her toe, which pleased them, because they had no more desire to sit right beside her than she had to sit beside them.
‘Rags and Bags are looking for the Green Marvel,’ Nelly said.
‘Oh, if only I knew where it was!’ she cried. ‘I still can’t believe I was so foolish. My necklace! My wonderful emerald necklace!’
‘I never thought to ask you this before, but where did you get it from?’
‘It was a present, Nelly dear,’ Georgiana said. ‘There was a very rich man who wanted to marry me and he gave it to me. He said
that it matched my eyes. And it did, you know. Look here!’
Quite suddenly and unexpectedly she bent down to where the rats were sitting, and opened her eyes wide. They were indeed green – but of such a green! Green as a fresh bright leaf, green as the ocean in a hidden cove, green, yes, green as emeralds beyond price.
‘He told me that if I’d had blue eyes, he’d have given me sapphires.’
‘And I suppose if you’d had red eyes, he’d have offered you rubies,’ Rags suggested. Georgiana stared at him coldly for some moments and then said, ‘I’m not too sure if I like your new friends, Nelly.’
‘And did you marry him, Georgiana?’ the little bat asked quickly. ‘Did you marry the man who gave you the Green Marvel?’
‘Of course not! He was an absolute nitwit. He was silly and proud. He thought that just because he had pots of money and gave me emeralds I was certain to marry him. I doubt
very much if he tried the same trick with another girl. I think I taught him a good lesson when I took the necklace.’
‘But then you lost it,’ Bags said.
‘I did,’ she admitted. ‘I lost it. I don’t know where it is.’
‘Can’t you remember where you had it last?’ Rags asked.
‘Well, I do know that the last time I saw it was about two hundred years ago, Mister Smarty-Pants Rat, so I can hardly be blamed if I’ve forgotten, now can I? What I do know is that I hid it somewhere to keep it safe and I wrote this little note to remind me where it was, only now I can’t understand it.’
From a small gold purse hanging at her side she took a slip of paper and unfolded it. ‘I’ll read it aloud to you.’
‘“Folly ’twould be
To lose a jewel like me”.’
She paused, and the three small animals waited for her to continue.
‘Well, go on then,’ Bags urged after a moment.
‘That’s it.’
‘That’s it? Nothing else?’
Embarrassed, Georgiana shook her curls to say ‘No’ as the two rats stared at her in dismay.
But Nelly was delighted. ‘It’s a kind of riddle,’ she cried. ‘Oh, I love things like this! Every morning Mrs Haverford-Snuffley does the crossword in the
Woodford Trumpet
and I do it too. I work out all the clues. I’m much quicker at it than Mrs Haverford-Snuffley, even though I’m reading it upside down,’ she added proudly. ‘Read it again, Georgiana.’ The ghost smoothed out the paper on her lap.
“‘Folly ’twould be
‘To lose a jewel like me.” “Folly” means “stupidity”. So it’s saying “It would be stupid to lose a jewel like me.’”
‘Well, that’s really helpful, I must say,’ Bags remarked sarcastically.
‘But “folly” could also mean “a folly” – you know, the thing in the garden!’
‘Why, of course! Why did I not think of that? Gosh, Nelly, you’re so bright,’ Georgiana said admiringly. But now the rats were baffled.
‘Er, what thing in the garden? What do you mean? What’s a folly?’
‘In my day,’ the ghost said, ‘there was a fashion for putting little buildings in gardens for no real reason, just because they looked nice. Stone pillars, ruins, that kind of thing.’
‘Ruins? Isn’t a ruin what you get when a building falls down?’
‘Yes, but these were built as ruins in the first place.’
The more she tried to explain, the more she baffled the rats. ‘Why on earth would anyone build a ruin?’
‘I don’t know. I can only tell you that it seemed like a good idea at the time.’
‘Our folly is exceptionally nice,’ Nelly said. ‘It’s not a ruin, it’s a small circular building like a temple, with stone seats in it.’
‘And is that where the Green Marvel is hidden?’
Georgiana glanced down again at the note in her hand and then looked up at the animals, suddenly excited.
‘It sounds as if it must be!’