BS01. Ordinary Jack by Helen Cresswell

Author:Helen Cresswell
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2016-12-19T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

When Jack reached home the house was unusually quiet. It had the air of a place in which a lot of people are lying low. Mrs Fosdyke was busy enough in the kitchen, however, and lunch was definitely on.

“Where is everybody?” he enquired.

“The Lord knows why,” replied Mrs Fosdyke at a tangent, “Mrs Bagthorpe had to send for that chit in the first place. I’ve always tried to give satisfaction. There’s never been any complaints.”

Mrs Fosdyke had been tactfully told of the au pair’s impending arrival some weeks previously by Mrs Bagthorpe. She had simply been told that the main reason for the visit was to bring Tess’s Danish on, and to have someone to help with the driving and perhaps do the odd chore.

Mrs Fosdyke had not been convinced by this. She did not say so to Mrs Bagthorpe, but in the Fiddler’s Arms she said what she really felt, which was that the whole thing was casting aspersions on herself, and could even be the first step towards her herself being made ultimately redundant.

“They’ll find their mistake, of course,” she said. “I’ve seen one or two films with them Danish orpairs and it’s not chores they do, oh dear me no.”

Jack was wise enough not to pursue the matter of the new arrival.

“Is Zero still in Mother’s room?” he asked.

Mrs Fosdyke, on the other hand, was not prepared to let the matter go.

“Up in her room,” she said. “Been up there ever since she got here. Weeping buckets.”

“Crying? What for?”

Mrs Fosdyke shrugged her shoulders.

“These Continentals is all the same. I’ve seen some of them subtitle films. It’s no surprise to me.”

Jack decided against going to Mrs Bagthorpe’s room to check on Zero in case he interrupted a Problem. He filled in the time until lunch by going to his room and unwrapping his parcel from MYSTERIES. After a quick look at the crystal ball he put it back in its straw-packed box in case he should accidentally happen to glance at it and see something in there. There was not much he could do with the dowsing gear, so he lit a jasmine-scented stick of incense and stuck it in a half-finished scone he had brought up the previous night. He watched the tiny red tip of the stick and the thinly wreathing smoke and soon the scent reached him. He sniffed. He rather liked it. He sniffed again. After that he tried to breathe ordinarily because it might, it occurred to him, be the deliberate inhaling of the incense that brought the Visions on. He even got up and opened a window.

“If Zero doesn’t like the smell I shan’t burn it in here anyway,” he decided.

He lay on his bed studying the book that accompanied the Tarot cards. The whole thing seemed very complicated. There was little doubt that any futures Jack foretold would be based upon pure guesswork, with or without the benefit of the Tarot cards.

There was a tap on his door and his mother and Zero came in together.

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