Diana Wynne Jones by Witch's Business

Author:Witch's Business [Business, Witch's]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-06-05T13:14:44+00:00

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EIGHT

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The next morning, before they set off for the Mill House, Frank asked Jess if she had put up the CLOSED FOR GOOD notice.

“Oh, good heavens!” said Jess. “Not yet. And I do want it up, because it looks as if it says we closed because we want to do good in future.”

“It could just as well mean we only do bad things,” Frank objected as he followed Jess down the garden. “Why not just take down the first notice?”

“Not yet,” said Jess. “It was such a good idea. I want everyone to know.”

“There’s someone knowing now,” said Frank, as they reached the shed.

Sure enough, someone was outside the window, reading the notice. When they got near enough, they saw, to their surprise, that it was Mr. Adams. He was laughing, in a dreamy sort of way, as if the notice amused him.

“Good morning,” he called through the glass.

Jess politely opened the window and said “Good morning” back. But, she thought, if he wants to be a customer, we’ll just have to say we’re closed.

“I’ve got a message for you two,” said Mr. Adams, “but I can’t for the life of me remember what it was.”

“From Frankie and Jenny?” suggested Frank. Mr. Adams really was the most absentminded-looking person he had ever seen. It did not surprise him at all that he had forgotten the message.

“No,” said Mr. Adams. “It wasn’t them.”

“Your aunt,” said Jess. “I mean—er—Miss Adams, is she? She wants to paint us.”

“Probably,” said Mr. Adams. “I know she’s expecting you, so it must be. Perhaps if we walk down together the message will come back to me.”

A little shyly, Frank and Jess let themselves out into the allotment path and walked along beside Mr. Adams. He seemed, as Jess said, to be a nice man, but he was so vague that he rather alarmed them. He said suddenly, “Her name’s Mrs. Andrews. She’s a widow.” And they had not the faintest idea what he meant at first.

“You mean your aunt?” Frank asked.

“She’s my sister,” said Mr. Adams. “She wants to paint you.” As he said this, he opened the gate into the allotments, to go down the path.

“And Vernon and Martin,” said Jess. “It’s much nicer by the road.”

“But this way’s shorter,” said Mr. Adams. “Come on.”

They felt they had to follow him, even though it meant going past Biddy’s hut. Jess had a sudden horrible suspicion. Suppose Mr. Adams had come to lure them into Biddy’s clutches? The idea made her shake in her shoes, until she remembered the way Buster had been driven off by the two Eyes. If Mr. Adams had been evil, he would not have been able to walk so near them. And, remembering the Eyes, Jess felt better, because—surely— they would protect her and Frank from Biddy. All the same, she would have given a great deal not to have to go this way with someone supposed to be in Biddy’s power.

Frank felt the same, although he thought he did not believe Mr.

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