Nanny McPhee Returns (19 page)

Back in the kitchen, Phil had tried, unsuccessfully, to get comfortable and was now in a very bad mood. He closed his eyes and tried to doze off, but then heard the kitchen door opening.

‘At last!’ he said grumpily. ‘Could someone take these things off –’

He looked over, and there were Miss Topsey and Miss Turvey, both attired in very smart nurses’ uniforms and pushing a cloth-covered trolley before them.

‘Oo-oo!’ they sang, as all the blood drained from Phil’s face into his toes.

‘We thought we’d bring the sign ourselves!’ said Miss Topsey, pushing the trolley up towards Phil.

‘But – I thought that was the sign! The bomb!’ said Phil, his eyes bulging.

‘That?’ said Miss Turvey. ‘Oh no. That’s just a silly old UXB. That needn’t concern you Phil, no.’

‘You can’t do anything to me!’ Phil yelled. ‘I’m in a fishy custard and cuffs!’

‘That’s useful,’ said Miss Topsey.

‘We won’t have to tie you down,’ said Miss Turvey. ‘We’ve got such good news for you, Phil!’

‘We’re not going to squash you with farm machinery after all!’

Phil experienced a moment’s wild relief. He sagged against the cooker and then stood up again sharpish because it was hot.

‘Oh?’ he said weakly. ‘That’s – that’s good. Why’s that, then?’

‘Because Mrs Big decided squashing wasn’t good enough for you,’ said Miss Topsey.

‘It lacked finesse,’ said Miss Turvey.

‘Too messy,’ explained Miss Topsey, in case Phil didn’t know what finesse meant, which he didn’t.

‘So – what she wants is . . .’ said Miss Turvey, looking terribly excited.

‘She wants us to . . .’ said Miss Topsey, looking equally thrilled.

‘She wants us to STUFF YOU!!!’ they chorused joyfully.

Phil blinked. He couldn’t quite take it in. ‘What?’ he said.

‘She wants us to stuff you and put you in the entrance to the London casino! As a warning to others!’ cried Miss Topsey.

‘What an honour, Phil!’ breathed Miss Turvey, looking at Phil as though she quite envied him.

Phil thought he was going to be sick. ‘You can’t do that!’ he said, knowing full well that they could and would.

‘Oh, don’t you worry, Phil,’ said Miss Topsey.

‘Miss Turvey’s a professional!’

Here, Miss Turvey looked down bashfully and opened her handbag. ‘Here’s an early example of my work,’ she said shyly, pulling out a large owl, expertly stuffed and mounted on a shiny brass pedestal.

Miss Topsey opened her bag and pulled something else out. ‘And here’s how you’ll look!’ she said, putting a model figure, also mounted on a brass pedestal, next to the owl. The figure looked exactly like Phil, down to the stripes on his tie and the look of terror on his face.

Both ladies then flung aside the cloth on the trolley to reveal an array of extremely upsetting surgical instruments, which glinted up at Phil evilly. Miss Topsey picked up the oddest of them. It was a large ladle, such as you might use for serving soup.

‘The only trouble is, Phil . . .’ said Miss Topsey, ‘we’re going to have to scoop you out while you’re still . . . well . . .’

‘Alive,’ finished Miss Turvey.

They both looked at Phil apologetically.

‘Otherwise you’ll go all blotchy,’ said Miss Topsey.

‘Which would result in amateurish work,’ shivered Miss Turvey. ‘And we don’t want that.’

Phil started to scream.

*

Everyone in the field felt like screaming too, but for entirely different reasons. They were all leafing madly through the pamphlet trying to find out why the bomb was moving. No one saw the second red light come on and start to flash next to the first. Megsie was holding on to the ladder for dear life and shouting, ‘What does it say? What does it say?!’

Norman yelled up, ‘It just says: “Cut the Green Wire.”’

‘I can’t see any green wire!’ shrieked Megsie, who’d looked and looked and couldn’t see anything green at all. ‘It must be covered with all this grey stuff!!’

The bomb started to make a whining noise.

‘Uh-oh,’ said Vincent.

‘Wake up, Algernon, wake up!’ shouted Mrs Docherty, slapping Mr Spolding repeatedly around his chops: ‘I don’t want you to miss it going off!’

Cyril suddenly found something.

‘Here it is!’ he shouted. ‘“Warning – if the Green Wire is protected with grey explosive putty, RED LIGHTS will flash and the bomb will now reactivate”! But there aren’t any red – oh.’

Cyril had caught sight of the red lights flashing on the side of the bomb. Everyone else looked at them too. ‘Why is that at the
bac
k
?’ said Cyril, smacking the pamphlet irritably.

As she spoke, the fifth red light came on and started to flash. ‘Ooooh,’ said Mrs Docherty again. ‘Aren’t they pretty?’

Mr Spolding was coming round.

‘I want everyone to come with me RIGHT NOW,’ said Mrs Green commandingly.

‘But Mum – the barley –’

‘I said NOW,’ said Mrs Green.

Celia, Cyril, Norman, Vincent and Mrs Green helped Mr Spolding up and started to limp off with him. At the same time, Mr Edelweiss flapped down on to the lip of the bomb and squawked at Megsie. She looked up at him, a light in her eyes.

‘Megsie, get down from there NOW!!!’ shouted Mrs Green, leaving the others to find a safe place and running to the foot of the ladder.

‘Wait! Wait!!’ shrieked Megsie. ‘Mr Edelweiss is eating the putty!!’

And so he was.

CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP.

All those years of practice had really paid off. You never saw a bird eat such a quantity of putty in no time at all.

‘Get DOWN!!’ screamed Mrs Green, grabbing at Megsie’s legs as the ninth light came on and the whine got so loud she thought her ears would burst. But Megsie could see the shimmer of green appearing as the last of the putty went down Mr Edelweiss’s throat.

‘MEGSIE!!!’ howled Mrs Green, as Megsie kicked her legs free, hurled herself bodily into the bomb and snipped the green wire just before the last light came on. The terrible whine suddenly stopped. There was a little whimper as the bomb ceased to shudder and shake. All the lights went out. An extraordinary peace descended, into which a robin sang a single perfect note.

Below them, Nanny McPhee watched quietly.

‘Lesson Four – to be brave – is complete,’ she whispered.

Hardly daring to believe what they’d accomplished, Megsie and Mr Edelweiss looked at each other.

Megsie’s eyes widened. ‘Look,’ she breathed.

Mr Edelweiss was enormous. He was huge. He was the size of a space hopper, except they didn’t have them in those days. He was the size of a beanbag chair, except they didn’t have them either. Put it this way, he was . . .

g

g

BIG

g

Nanny McPhee stepped up to the ladder. She looked up at Mr Edelweiss and said, very quietly, ‘Silly bird. You’re full of explosive putty. You’ll go off pop if we’re not careful. Get down, Megsie. Go and tell everyone to take cover.’

Staring with wonder at poor Mr Edelweiss, who was looking none too comfortable and not a little concerned, Megsie shimmied down the ladder and went to join the others behind the little abandoned shepherd’s hut at the side of the field. After everyone had hugged Megsie and kissed her and thanked her for saving everyone and everything, they all peered out to watch. Nanny McPhee was standing next to the bomb with her arms outstretched. Mr Edelweiss, who couldn’t really fly, sort of floated through the air towards her, pathetically trying to flap his wings. She caught him in her hands, very, very gently. Everyone put their fingers in their ears.

Nanny McPhee turned towards the barley and seemed to look up at Mr Edelweiss, with a smile. Then she just let him go. He hovered in the air for a few moments and then . . . he burped. And burped. And burped. On and on and on it went until they saw the heads of the barley begin to bend beneath the wind of the burp, bend and swirl and dance. The wind grew. It grew wilder and wilder, until the children and Mr Spolding and Mrs Docherty and Mrs Green could no longer keep their eyes open and had to hold on to each other in order not to get blown away.

In the kitchen, Miss Topsey and Miss Turvey had just finished drawing pretty scarlet incision lines across Phil’s abdomen when the kitchen windows suddenly blew right open. Phil, who had his eyes closed tight, snapped them open to see Miss Topsey and Miss Turvey being buffeted about by the wind, which was now in the kitchen and blowing a gale. The two women held tight to the table, trying to keep upright. The wind got stronger still and suddenly Phil felt his feet lift slightly off the floor. He gave a shout of alarm until he realised that the women were also being lifted off their feet – but WITHOUT BEING CUFFED TO ANYTHING!!! As the wind lifted him higher, until he was at a right angle to the stove, the cuffs held him safe while the two women, with terrible wails of rage and fright, were bowled off their feet. Miss Topsey cartwheeled neatly out of the door, and Miss Turvey was blown up into the open window, sticking there for a moment before, with a great sucking sound, she was pulled through and away, over the horizon.

Phil was hurled about in the air, screaming for joy, until a very large saucepan fell off the shelves and hit him on the head.

In the field, Norman tried to open one eye to see what was happening but all he caught a glimpse of was a great whirling in the sky, like looking at the sun through a kaleidoscope. On and on it blew, until suddenly the burp-wind stopped and another silence descended. One by one, the children opened their eyes. Vincent saw it first.

‘Look!’ he cried.

Then Mrs Green saw.

‘Oh!’ she gasped.

Then Norman saw. He couldn’t speak. He just made a noise that was a mixture of astonishment and delight.

Then Megsie and Celia saw.

‘Look!’ they said.

And Mrs Docherty saw.

‘The harvest’s in!’ she said wonderingly.

And so it was.

That great wind had lifted all the stalks of barley from the field and winnowed them, releasing them back down to the earth in perfectly formed stacks with two huge ricks in the centre. There, in the middle, stood Nanny McPhee, Mr Edelweiss by her side, now quite normal-sized and with a shell-shocked expression on his face. The bomb had completely disappeared.

Slowly at first, everyone came out from behind the hut. Vincent spied the ladder leaning against one of the big ricks.

‘Let’s climb up!’ he shouted joyfully, running towards it. All the other children ran after him, yelling and shouting at the tops of their voices and happier than they had ever been, ever in their lives.

‘Three cheers for Mr Edelweiss!!’ shouted Mrs Green, and everyone cheered their heads off as Mr Edelweiss gave a very dignified bow. Then he looked at Nanny McPhee furtively and she gave him a big smile and nodded her head as though she was pleased with him. He blinked with pleasure and gave a single proud squawk before joining the children on top of the barley-rick.

The Diary 26

We are in the beautiful little village of Hambledon, made even more beautiful by the Art Department, who have moved all the cars and put grass everywhere and planted things and made a shop-front for Mrs Docherty’s and, oh, it’s gorgeous. Lady Hambledon, a delightful Italian person with lilac hair, came out and introduced herself and invited me for pasta at her house. I can’t wait. It’ll be the first square meal I’ve had in weeks . . .

Maggie, Rhys and Sam are doing the first Mr Spolding scene and all being very funny and terrific.

August 16th: Back at Shepperton. Got all dressed up to try for the final shot of the film, where Nanny lets Mr E. get on her shoulder, and of course it was lovely and sunny in the car park when I arrived, and as soon as I got out of the make-up chair to shoot the scene the sun went behind a cloud and declined to come out again. So I took all the make-up off and Read In (see Glossary) for other people as we picked up a few things in the studio. Then at about 5 p.m. I got into all the make-up again and we went and tried to shoot it for the fifteenth time and the sun went in AGAIN and we all swore at the sky like anything and I took all my make-up off again and went home feeling rather daft.

But I do feel now that this shoot will end. It actually will.

It’s when things like this shoot end that you realise life itself
will
one day end too. It somehow makes that more real.

August 17th: Bright, hot, cloudless day. We’re inside. Enough to make you weep, it is. Feel utterly depressed by weather and my general ancientness.

August 18th: Heatwave all week. The Law of Sod holds evil sway over us all. We are shooting inside and can’t change it around because of people’s schedules (mine, mostly, it has to be admitted). Still feel ancient and depressed.

August 19th: Better today. My husband and daughter came to cheer us on. It’s even HOTTER in the studio, but we are shooting at a tremendous lick and getting fabulous stuff from everyone. Maggie made me cry every time she delivered the line ‘Then it must be true’ when Asa tells her Mr Green is still alive. Lots of Kleenex being used around the monitors. Five days to go. I can’t believe it.

August 20th: Maggie Gyllenhaal’s last day! 40°C in the studio, but everyone on fine form. We all had cupcakes and champagne on wrap! (see Glossary).

Earlier in the day, I passed Oscar’s caravan and saw a notice outside that said: DO NOT ENTER. SICK BAY.

Gaia came out and said to me, very urgently, that they’d had to send for Rachel the nurse because Oscar (Vincent) had just fallen down the steps of his caravan and hurt his head. Oh no! I thought, envisaging wounds and horror and going gently in to see what was up. The caravan was full of very quiet people all sitting around Oscar, who had a makeshift bandage round his head and an expression of deep gloom on his face. I was appalled. I went and sat with him. He was silent.

‘He can’t speak,’ said Lil (Megsie). ‘He’s in shock.’

‘We’ve called an ambulance,’ said his mum, Lizzie.

‘Oh, Oscar, darling,’ I said, tears coming into my eyes. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here in no time.’

Guiltily I thought, Help! If Oscar’s injured we won’t be able to finish this week and then it will be even later and we will all miss our holidays and the studio will be so cross and Eric will fire us and –

And then I heard a tiny, stifled giggle. It was Rosie (Celia), who had caught Gaia’s eye. And then I thought, Hang on . . .

And I looked at Oscar’s bandage and it did seem to have red crayon on it, as though someone had drawn something to look like blood, and now I came to think of it, he did look quite healthy and Lizzie did seem too calm for a mother with a badly injured son and then I realised.

It was an elaborate and brilliantly executed trick! I had fallen for it hook, line and sinker. I’d even felt quite faint. I nearly bit everyone’s ankles to punish them and ran back to the studio with my tail between my legs. I really am the most gullible person on the planet and now they all KNOW, and so do you, for that matter . . .

Got into the full Nanny make-up and then wasn’t used at all. Lil and Rosie did a lovely song for Maggie at the end of the day and Lil wept! It was all very moving and we sent Maggie off with huge cheers and tight hugs, all so grateful for her incredibly hard work and wonderful performance. It will feel very strange without our Mrs Green . . .