Jasper and the Green Marvel (4 page)
Read Jasper and the Green Marvel Online
Authors: Deirdre Madden
At the words ‘the Green Marvel,’ Jasper almost fell off the bench.
‘What? Stop! No! Wait! Help!’
Mrs Haverford-Snuffley, who had been walking away, turned back to him, her pale blue eyes full of astonishment. ‘What is it, Professor?’
‘It’s just – why, it’s nothing – it’s – I – you mentioned the Green Marvel,’ he stammered. ‘Won’t you tell me about it, please?’
‘Haven’t you heard of it already? I thought it was famous in Woodford. It’s certainly a
legend here in Haverford-Snuffley Hall. Come with me and I’ll show you.’
Still carrying the little fox in her arms she led Jasper across the lawns to the house and together they went into the hallway, where she stopped in front of a painting.
‘There, Professor Orchid,’ she said. ‘That’s the Green Marvel for you.’
The painting was a life-size portrait of a pretty woman with curly dark red hair, not unlike the colour of the fox, piled on top of her head. She had pale skin and a beautiful straight nose. Her flowing gown was made of dark blue silk and she carried a fan made of soft feathers. Did Jasper notice any of this? I doubt it, which is odd, because usually he was very fond of looking at pretty girls. But the only thing that interested him in this painting was the necklace that the young woman was wearing.
It was a truly extraordinary necklace made of emeralds: radiant deep green stones. There were square jewels and some were cut into the shape
of a pear and these hung from the necklace itself. ‘Do you see that enormous rectangular stone right in the middle, Professor? It’s believed to be the biggest emerald ever found.’
Yes, Jasper saw it and he could well believe that what Mrs Haverford-Snuffley said was true. Even he couldn’t imagine a bigger emerald. He stood there looking at the painting with his mouth hanging open, overcome with terrible feelings of greed and desire. So this was the Green Marvel.
Jasper wanted it.
‘Where is it now?’ he said when he was at last able to speak again.
‘That’s the problem, nobody knows. It belonged to Georgiana Haverford-Snuffley, the girl in the painting. She was the daughter of Theophilus Haverford-Snuffley. He was very fond of pictures and it was he who had the Haverford-Snuffley Angel painted more than two hundred years ago – but that’s a whole other story.’
‘Indeed,’ said Jasper, who knew more than enough about the Haverford-Snuffley Angel.
‘The story goes,’ she continued, ‘that the Green Marvel is hidden somewhere here in the Hall. When I was little I remember hearing it said that it was hidden in the kitchen, but that can’t be true, or I’m sure Mrs Knuttmegg would have come across it long before now. Nobody knows for sure, maybe it’s gone for good. Maybe it was stolen or simply lost. But, who knows, Professor, you might even find it when you’re out digging.’ For a moment Jasper was tempted to run outside and grab his shovel, and to dig and dig and dig.
‘I’m joking, of course, it’s highly unlikely that that will happen. But the story is quite persistent that it was hidden here and has never been found. If only I knew where it was! Then my little foxy-woxy and all his friends could live happily ever after, couldn’t you, my love? I’d take care of you.’
And you would too, you mad old cabbage
of a lulu, Jasper thought angrily. You’d use it to help a bunch of mangy, good-for-nothing animals.
In that moment his mind was quite made up. He decided that he wasn’t going to leave, no matter how much he hated the food and the work. He would stay in Haverford-Snuffley Hall, he would find the Green Marvel and he would keep it for himself!
But what Jasper didn’t realise was that, deep in his pocket, the two rats had woken up and were listening with great interest to every word that was said.
That very night, Rags and Bags set out to look for the Green Marvel in the kitchen, but things didn’t go at all according to plan. To begin with, they got into the dumb-waiter again, but when it descended and the doors opened they found to their surprise that they were in the drawing room instead of the kitchen.
They hopped out and looked around. It wasn’t where they wanted to be, but everything in the house was still new to them and therefore fascinating. There was an armchair beside the
fire, and on the table beside it was a book and some knitting, with the needles stuck into the ball of wool. ‘This must be where Mrs
Haverford-Snuffley
sits in the evening,’ Bags said.
They climbed up on to the table to have a better look at everything, and saw that there was a third thing there they hadn’t been able to see from the floor. It was a cardboard box with a pink ribbon on the lid and some gold writing that the rats, being rats, couldn’t read. But they pushed the lid off anyway to have a peek at what was inside.
The box was full of small brown objects. Although they were all more or less the same size, they were a range of different shapes. Some were square and some heart-shaped. Some looked like leaves and some like little barrels. One was a smooth dome and another was a ridged whorl. And all of them had the most marvellous, delicious mouth-watering smell. What could they possibly be?
I would like to ask you now to do something
difficult. I’d like you to imagine that you’re a rat. You’ve never in all your life heard the word ‘chocolate’. Even if you saw it written down, it wouldn’t mean anything to you because, being a rat, you can’t read. ‘Chocolate’ could mean anything. It could mean ‘tadpole’ or ‘sausage’ or ‘handbag’.
Nor have you ever come across chocolate the thing, rather than chocolate the word before. You don’t know anything about it. You don’t even know that you can eat it. You don’t know that it can come as a bar that can be broken into squares. You don’t know that it can be a yummy hot drink. And above all you don’t know that it can be made into actual chocolates: small, bite-sized pieces, each with a different filling – toffee or strawberry cream or hazelnut or orange, each one more delicious than the one before.
So imagine what it’s like to be a rat and to stumble across your first ever box of chocolates, there for the taking!
‘I don’t know what these are, Bags, but they smell great. I’ll give one a lick just to try it out.’
Cautiously Rags licked one of the little brown things … and a look of total bliss crossed his snout. ‘Oh, Bags!’ he said. ‘OH, BAGS!’ and he scoffed the chocolate down in one gulp.
It was a total free-for-all after that. Lemon Surprises and Caramel Hearts, Turkish Delights and Coconut Clusters: the rats set to and gobbled them all up until they were so full they could hardly stand, and the box with the pink ribbon was empty.
‘Never could I have imagined that something could be so scrumptious!’ Bags sighed as he polished off the last Marzipan Dream.
‘Even if we never again get to eat whatever these things are, I will remember this night for the rest of my life, yes, until I am an old grey rat with faded fur and trembling paws,’ Rags declared.
But they were to remember the night for
another reason too, and it wouldn’t be such a pleasant memory.
When they crept out of the drawing room, they found that they were once more in the hallway of the big house, where a small lamp burned as before.
‘I don’t really feel like looking for the Green Marvel now,’ Bags said.
‘Neither do I. Not after all the excitement we’ve already had. I think we should go back to bed now and start looking for the necklace tomorrow night.’ Bags agreed with Rags.
‘Now, which way is Jasper’s bedroom?’
And that was when IT happened. Suddenly they felt a tremendous cold wind, coming from something flapping above their heads. The light of the small lamp was blotted out and an icy darkness enveloped them. Just with that, something grabbed them both by the scruff of their necks and whipped them clean off their paws, up into the air. What on earth was happening?
They had been grabbed by an enormous bat! Its immense black wings had caused darkness to fall as it swooped down to snatch them, and now it flew madly around the hallway in jagged and juddering flight, with its two captives dangling beneath it. As you may imagine, rats don’t scare easily, but Bags and Rags were terrified. It was like being on some horrible fairground ride, where you’re swung around a thousand times in different ways and your tummy turns over and there’s nothing you can do to stop all of this happening. Rags came within a whisker of having his head banged on the frame of the hall mirror, and Bags was sure, quite sure, that they were going to crash straight into the crystal chandelier that hung high up on the ceiling. Instead of that, the big bat flew round and round the chandelier, until the two rats were so dizzy they thought they were going to faint, or be sick, or both. And at that point, the bat let them go.
Down, down, down they fell and landed
crump
on a thick soft rug. Gazing up in terror, they could see that the big bat had come to roost on the chandelier. It was a most peculiar sight, for it was hanging upside down from a crystal branch, and it was wearing a knitted woollen hat, pulled tightly on to its head.
‘You leave Nelly be!’ it cried. ‘If you bully her again, you’ll have me to answer to. Do you understand?’
The two rats nodded.
‘DO YOU UNDERSTAND?’ the bat roared.
‘Yes! Yes!’ they squeaked.
‘We’re really sorry we were mean to her,’ Bags whimpered. ‘We won’t steal her hat ever again.’
‘If you do, you’re in big trouble,’ the bat said. ‘What happened tonight is nothing compared to what I’ll do to you if you annoy Nelly one more time.’
‘We’ll be good! We’ll be good!’ the two rats
cried. ‘We promise to behave.’
And this time when they said it, they didn’t have their claws crossed.
Jasper was quite looking forward to the following day because he had the afternoon off.
‘Wakey-wakey lads,’ he cried, opening the drawer where the rats slept. ‘Get up and have your breakfast.’ He offered them small pieces of fruit and little crusts from his own meal, but to his amazement, Rags and Bags weren’t interested. This isn’t like them at all, he thought, as they turned their snouts up at the food and rolled over in their sock sleeping-bags. Never before had he known them to refuse anything edible, for they were the greediest creatures
imaginable. They must be feeling really poorly. He decided to leave the food for them on a saucer and to let them sleep while he went off to work in the garden.
He was half-heartedly weeding a flower bed about an hour later when he noticed Mrs Haverford-Snuffley approach. Oddly enough, she wasn’t smiling and waving as usual but looked quite serious and even a little bit cross.
‘Dear lady, why this cloud upon your lovely features? What is it that troubles you?’ Jasper asked, smarmy as ever.
‘This is most embarrassing, Professor Orchid. I don’t want to have to ask you this but I feel that I must. The thing is – oh dear me, there’s no easy way to put this question so I have to say it bluntly. Did you eat my chocolates?’
Jasper had been grinning at her as she spoke, but at this, the grin vanished from his face. ‘Your chocolates? Why, of course I didn’t! How could you possibly think such a thing?’
‘Because I had a whole boxful of them
yesterday and now they’re all gone. I left them in the drawing room, beside my knitting, when I went to bed last night and now they’re gone, every last one of them.’
Jasper stared at her, baffled. ‘Could it have been the bat?’ he asked, pointing at the little creature dangling from the feather and thinking that even if it wasn’t, here perhaps was a chance to get it into trouble. ‘Let’s face it, it is quite spoiled, isn’t it?’
‘Mummy’s little treasure doesn’t eat chocolate, does she?’ Mrs Haverford-Snuffley said, looking sideways at Nelly, who bounced up and down vigorously at this. ‘It’s too heavy and rich for her tummy-wummy.’
‘What about that Knuttmegg woman then? I wouldn’t put it past her to have scoffed the lot.’
‘No, it can’t be her either. Even though she’s a cook, you’d be surprised how few sweets and goodies Mrs Knuttmegg eats. That’s why she’s so skinny. She eats a tiny Easter egg once a year
and a little chocolate Santa at Christmas, and that’s it. And in any case, I just know she would never do a thing like that.’ Mrs
Haverford-Snuffley
bit her lower lip and frowned. ‘It was Mrs Knuttmegg who suggested that I ask you about it. I told her just a short while ago, and she said to me that she’d had food disappearing from the kitchen recently too. “Ever since that gardener fellow arrived,” she said, “food’s been vanishing in this house as if there were rats.”’
And as soon as he heard this, Jasper knew exactly what had happened to the chocolates.
‘Dear madam,’ he exclaimed in dismay, ‘do please forgive me!’
Mrs Haverford-Snuffley stared at him in amazement. ‘So you did eat them.’
‘No. I mean yes. I mean No! No! No! No! No!’
Mrs Haverford-Snuffley took this as a ‘Yes’.
‘Well I must say, Professor Orchid,’ she remarked coldly, ‘I’m astonished at this. I’d never have thought it of a gentleman like you.
I didn’t even want to ask but Mrs Knuttmegg insisted it could be no one else. Please don’t let it happen again.’ She waved aside Jasper’s grovelling attempts at an explanation and trotted off across the garden again, with her bat companion.
As soon as lunchtime came and his work was over for the day, Jasper raced up to his room. He now realised that the rats hadn’t been sick at all. They’d just been stuffed with chocolates when last he saw them and that was why they hadn’t wanted their breakfast. Now they were bouncing around the place, delighted with themselves. While he’d been out working they had got their appetites back, and the saucer of food had been licked clean.
‘Oh, why won’t you be good!’ he shouted. ‘If you get me into trouble again I’ll get the sack. Then I’ll have to leave Haverford-Snuffley Hall immediately and I’ll never find the Green Marvel. Why won’t you behave yourselves?’
The rats just laughed at him.
Jasper had planned to spend his afternoon off looking for the necklace, but instead he went into Woodford. He didn’t manage to get a lift this time so he had to wait ages for the bus. When he got there he bought a huge box of Woodford Creams. These were the expensive and delicious rose-scented chocolates for which the town was famous and of which Jasper himself had eaten vast quantities in his old life. To buy the Creams took an enormous whack out of the money the prison officer had given him. He had wanted to keep that money for himself, but he felt he had to get back in Mrs Haverford-Snuffley’s good books as soon as possible.
As the woman in the shop was wrapping up the box she kept looking at Jasper. ‘Do I know you?’ she said at last. ‘I think your face is familiar to me.’
‘I’ve never been here in my life before,’ Jasper lied. ‘You must be mixing me up with someone else.’ He paid for the chocolates and as she was
giving him his change she said all of a sudden, ‘I know who it is you remind me of! If it wasn’t for that big black beard, you’d look exactly like Jas—’
But before she could finish what she was saying, Jasper was already out of the shop and halfway down the street, as fast as he could run.