and Michael looked at Mary Poppins.
“Four each,” she said. “That’s twelve. One dozen.”
“I’ll make it a Baker’s Dozen – take thirteen,” said Mrs Corry cheerfully.
So Jane and Michael chose thirteen slabs of gingerbread, each with its gilt paper star. Their arms were piled up with the delicious dark cakes. Michael could not resist nibbling a corner of one of them.
“Good?” squeaked Mrs Corry, and when he nodded she picked up her skirts and did a few steps of the Highland Fling for pure pleasure.
“Hooray, hooray, splendid, hooray!” she cried in her shrill little voice. Then she came to a standstill and her face grew serious.
“But remember – I’m not giving them away. I must be paid. The price is threepence for each of you.”
Mary Poppins opened her purse and took out three threepenny-bits. She gave one each to Jane and Michael.
“Now,” said Mrs Corry. “Stick ’em on my coat! That’s where they all go.”
They looked closely at her long black coat. And sure enough they found it was studded with threepenny-bits as a Coster’s coat is with pearl buttons.
“Come along. Stick ’em on!” repeated Mrs Corry, rubbing her hands with pleasant expectation. “You’ll find they won’t drop off.”
Mary Poppins stepped forward and pressed her threepenny-bit against the collar of Mrs Corry’s coat.
To the surprise of Jane and Michael, it stuck.
Then they put theirs on – Jane’s on the right shoulder and Michael’s on the front hem. Theirs stuck, too.
“How very extraordinary,” said Jane.
“Not at all, my dear,” said Mrs Corry, chuckling. “Or rather, not so extraordinary as other things I could mention.” And she winked largely at Mary Poppins.
“I’m afraid we must be off now, Mrs Corry,” said Mary Poppins. “There is Baked Custard for lunch, and I must be home in time to make it. That Mrs Brill—”
“A poor cook?” enquired Mrs Corry, interrupting.
“Poor!” said Mary Poppins contemptuously. “That’s not the word.”
“Ah!” Mrs Corry put her finger alongside her nose and looked very wise. Then she said:
“Well, my dear Miss Poppins, it has been a very pleasant visit and I am sure my girls have enjoyed it as much as I have.” She nodded in the direction of her two large, mournful daughters. “And you’ll come again soon, won’t you, with Jane and Michael and the Babies? Now, are you sure you can carry the Gingerbread?” she continued, turning to Michael and Jane.
They nodded. Mrs Corry drew closer to them, with a curious, important, inquisitive look on her face.
“I wonder,” she said dreamily, “what you will do with the paper stars?”
“Oh, we’ll keep them,” said Jane. “We always do.”
“Ah – you keep them! And I wonder where you keep them?” Mrs Corry’s eyes were half closed and she looked more inquisitive than ever.
“Well,” Jane began. “Mine are all under my handkerchiefs in the top left-hand drawer and—”
“Mine are in a shoe box on the bottom shelf of the wardrobe,” said Michael.
“Top left-hand drawer and shoe box in the wardrobe,” said Mrs Corry thoughtfully, as though she were committing the words to memory. Then she gave Mary Poppins a long look and nodded her head slightly. Mary Poppins nodded slightly in return. It seemed as if some secret had passed between them.
“Well,” said Mrs Corry brightly, “that is very interesting. You don’t know how glad I am to know you keep your stars. I shall remember that. You see, I remember everything – even what Guy Fawkes had for dinner every second Sunday. And now, goodbye. Come again soon. Come again so-o-o-o-n!”
Mrs Corry’s voice seemed to be growing fainter and fading away, and presently, without being quite aware of what had happened, Jane and Michael found themselves on the pavement, walking behind Mary Poppins who was again examining her list.
They turned and looked behind them.
“Why, Jane,” said Michael with surprise, “it’s not there!”
“So I see,” said Jane, staring and staring.
And they were right. The shop was not there. It had entirely disappeared.
“How odd!” said Jane.
“Isn’t it?” said Michael. “But the Gingerbread is very good.”
And they were so busy biting their Gingerbread into different shapes – a man, a flower, a teapot – that they quite forgot how very odd it was.
They remembered it again that night, however, when the lights were out and they were both supposed to be sound asleep.
“Jane, Jane!” whispered Michael. “I hear someone tiptoeing on the stairs – listen!”
“Sssh!” hissed Jane from her bed, for she, too, had heard the footsteps.
Presently the door opened with a little click and somebody came into the room. It was Mary Poppins, dressed in hat and coat all ready to go out.
She moved about the room softly with quick, secret movements. Jane and Michael watched her through half-closed eyes without stirring.
First she went to the chest of drawers, opened a drawer and shut it again after a moment. Then, on tiptoe, she went to the wardrobe, opened it, bent down and put something in or took something out (they couldn’t tell which). Snap! The wardrobe door shut quickly and Mary Poppins hurried from the room.
Michael sat up in bed.
“What was she doing?” he said to Jane in a loud whisper.
“I don’t know. Perhaps she’s forgotten her gloves or her shoes or—” Jane broke off suddenly. “Michael, listen!”
He listened. From down below – in the garden, it seemed – they could hear several voices whispering together, very earnestly and excitedly.
With a quick movement Jane got out of bed and beckoned Michael. They crept on bare feet to the window and looked down.
There, outside in the Lane, stood a tiny form and two gigantic figures.
“Mrs Corry and Miss Fannie and Miss Annie,” said Jane in a whisper.
And so indeed it was. It was a curious group. Mrs Corry was looking through the bars of the gate of Number Seventeen, Miss Fannie had two long ladders balanced on one huge shoulder, while
