"Norton, Mary - Bedknob and Broomstick 01-02 - Bedknob and Broomstick" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Mary)

Charles prayed for the door to open quickly. He was by nature extremely retiring.
A red bus rolled by at the end of the square. For the moment, the pavement was empty.
"Ring again," he cried fervently. Paul rang again.
They heard the echo of the bell in the basement, a polite, regretful, empty sound. The dark windows stared blankly.
"There's no one at home," said Carey when they had waited a minute or two longer. She uncurled her legs. "Mother must have gone out to dinner," she announced, standing up. "Well, we'll have to wait. Let's tidy the bed."
As they made the bed, drawing up the blankets, turning back the sheets, plumping up the pillows, Charles marveled at Carey's and Paul's lack of concern. Didn't they think it odd, he wondered, to be making a bed there in a London street? He glanced longingly toward the area steps. "Shall we try the back door?" he suggested-anything to be away from the bed and down below the level of the pavement. He couldn't go far because he hadn't any shoes on.
They crept down the area steps. They rattled and pulled at the tradesmen's door. It was locked. They peered in at the kitchen window. A cup and saucer lay on the drainboard; the rest of the kitchen was curiously tidy and deathly still. The window was fastened. Even breaking it would have done no good. It was barred against burglars.
"We must just sit on the bed and wait," sighed Carey.
"Not on the bed," said Charles hastily. "Let's stay down here, where no one can see us," he added.
They all squeezed together on the bottom step, facing the dustbin. The area smelled of wet tea leaves, and the step was cold.
"I don't call this much of an adventure," said Charles.
"Nor do I," agreed Carey. "It was Paul's idea."
It grew darker. Looking upwards, they saw that the light was draining quickly from the street above. There was mist in the air.
They began to hear passers-by. The footsteps always paused at No. 38, and the children, listening, realized how much grownups think alike. They nearly all said, with deep
surprise, "How funny! A bed!" or "A bed! How funny!" Always they heard the word "Bed-bed, bed, bed" and footsteps. Once Charles spoke for them. As he heard the footsteps pause, he said aloud, "How funny, a bed!" It was almost dark then, and a form peered down at them over the area railings. "Some children," muttered a voice, as if explaining to a second person. As the footsteps died away, Charles called after them, "And a bed."
"Don't, Charles, it's rude. You'll get us into trouble." It became quite dark, a darkness laced with mist. "River fog," said Charles, "and if you ask me, I think Mother's gone away for the week end."
Paul was already asleep against Carey's shoulder. Carey had a sudden brain wave.
"I know!" she exclaimed. "Let's get into the bed! It's quite dark now. If it's foggy enough, no one will see us."
They went up the steps again and crossed the pavement. Ah! It was good to crawl under the blankets and to pull up the eiderdown. Above them the sky looked grayish between the steep black roofs. The stars had disappeared.
"I honestly don't call this much of an adventure," whispered Charles.
"I know," Carey replied. "But it's the first time. We'll get better at it."
Between them, Paul breathed deeply, exuding a pleasant warmth.
Carey must have been asleep for some time when the shock came. At first, shaken out of a dream, she lay quite still. Damp darkness . . . her legs felt pinioned. Where was she. Then she remembered.
"Please!" she cried, with an agonized squeak. The fog had deepened. She could see nothing.
There was a hoarse gasp. "Well, I'll be-"
"Please," cried Carey again, interrupting. "Please get off my foot."
A light flashed on, a terrifying dazzling circle; shining straight in their eyes as it did, it felt like a searchlight.
The gruff voice said again, "Well, I'll be blowed-kids!"
The weight lifted itself, and thankfully Carey curled back her legs, blinking at the glare. She knew suddenly, without being able to see a thing, that behind that light was a policeman. She felt a policeman, large and tall and fat and creaking.
He switched off his flashlight. "Kids!" he said again in a surprised voice. Then he became stern. "Can't 'ave this, you
know." He breathed heavily. "Can't 'ave beds, like this, in the street. Danger to the public. Caught me on the shin, this bed did. A street's no place for beds. Where's your mother?"
"I don't know," said Carey in a low voice.
"Speak up," said the policeman. "What's your name?"
"Carey Wilson."
On went the light again and out came a notebook. Again the policeman sat down. The bed creaked, but Carey's toes were out of reach.
"Address?"
Charles sat up sleepily. "What?" he said.
Carey had a sudden vision of Aunt Beatrice's face, the tight lips, the pink-rimmed eyes. She thought of her mother, worried, upset. Letters, policemen, complaints, fines, prison.
"Look," said Carey, "I'm terribly sorry we hurt your shin. If you just move, we'll take the bed away, and then you won't be troubled any more. We'll take it right away. Really."
"This 'ere's an iron bed," said the policeman. "This 'ere bed's good and heavy."
"We can take it," urged Carey. "We brought it here. We have a way of taking it."
"I don't see no way of-taking this bed anywhere-not in this fog."
"If you'd just move a moment," said Carey, "we'll show you."
"Not so fast, miss." The policeman was getting into his stride. "I'm not moving anywhere, just at present. Where did you bring this 'ere bed from?"
Carey hesitated. Trouble-that was what they were heading for. She thought again of Aunt Beatrice. And of Miss
Price-oh, Miss Price, that was almost the worst of all; to tell about Miss Price would be the end of everything-yet no good ever came of lying.
"Well," said Carey, trying to think quickly.
"We brought it from my room," put in Paul suddenly.
"Oh," said the policeman heavily. He had adopted a slightly sarcastic tone to hide his bewilderment. "And where might your room be?"
"Next to Carey's," said Paul. "At the end of the passage."