from the Park.
Admiral Boom came splashing past, looking like a shiny sunflower in his big yellow sou'wester.
The Ice Cream Man trundled along the lane, with a waterproof cape spread over his tricycle. And in front of it the notice said:
DON'T STOP ME
I WANT MY TEA
He glanced at Number Seventeen and waved his hand to the window. Michael, on any other day, would gladly have answered back. But today he deliberately took no notice. He huddled on the window-seat, glumly watching the sunset, and looking over Miss Lark's roof at the first faint star in the sky.
'The others ged all the fud,' he sniffed. 'I wish I could have sobe luck!'
Then footsteps clattered on the stairs. The door burst open and Jane ran in.
'Oh, Michael, it was lovely!' she cried. 'We were up to our knees in water.'
'Thed I hobe you catch a code!' he snapped. He gave a guilty glance round to see if Mary Poppins had heard. She was busy unwrapping Annabel and shaking the rain from her parrot umbrella.
'Don't be cross. We all missed you,' said Jane in a coaxing voice.
But Michael did not want to be coaxed. He wanted to be as cross as he liked. Nobody, if he could help it, was going to alter his bad mood. Indeed, he was almost enjoying it.
'Dode touch be, Jade. You're all wet!' he said in a sulky voice.
'So are we!' chirped John and Barbara, running across to hug him.
'Oh, go away!' he cried angrily, turning back to the window. 'I dode want to talk to any of you. I wish you'd all leave be alode!'
'Miss Lark's roof is made of gold!' Jane gazed out at the sunset. 'And there's the first star — wish on it! How does the tune go, Michael?'
He shook his head and wouldn't tell, so she sang the song herself.
'Star light
Star bright,
First star I've seen tonight,
Wish I may
Wish I might
That the wish may come true
That I wish tonight.'
She finished the song and looked at the star.
'I've wished,' she whispered, smiling.
'It's easy for
'What's what?' she murmured dreamily.
'John! Barbara! And you too, Jane! Take off your coats at once. I will not have supper with Three Drowned Rats!' said Mary Poppins sharply.
They slithered off the window-seat and hurried to obey her. When Mary Poppins looked like that it was always best to obey.
The dark shape crept along the sill and a speckled face peeped in. Could it be — yes, it was! — a cat. A tortoiseshell cat with yellow eyes and a collar made of gold.
Michael pressed his nose to the pane. And the cat pressed its nose to the other side and looked at him thoughtfully. Then it smiled a most mysterious smile and, whisking off the window-sill, it sprang across Miss Lark's garden and disappeared over the roof.
'Who owns it, I wonder?' Michael murmured, as he gazed at the spot where the cat had vanished. He knew it couldn't belong to Miss Lark. She only cared for dogs.
'What are you looking at?' called Jane, as she dried her hair by the fire.
'Dothing!' he said in a horrid voice. He was not going to share the cat with her. She had had enough fun in the Park.
'I only asked,' she protested mildly.
He knew she was trying to be kind and something inside him wanted to melt. But his crossness would not let it.
'Ad I odly adswered!' he retorted.
Mary Poppins looked at him. He knew that look and he guessed what was coming, but he felt too tired to care.
'You,' she remarked in a chilly voice, 'can answer questions in bed. Spit-spot and in you go — and kindly close the door!'
Her eyes bored into him like gimlets as he stalked away to the night nursery and kicked the door to with a bang.
The steam-kettle bubbled beside his bed, sending out fragrant whiffs of balsam. But he turned his nose away on purpose and put his head under the blankets.
'Dothing dice ever happeds to be,' he grumbled to his pillow.
But it offered its cool white cheek in silence as if it had not heard.
He gave it a couple of furious thumps, burrowed in like an angry rabbit, and immediately fell asleep.
A moment later — or so it seemed — he woke to find the morning sun streaming in upon him.
'What day is today, Mary Poppins?' he shouted.
'Thursday,' she called from the next room. Her voice, he thought, was strangely polite.
The camp-bed groaned as she sprang out. He could always tell what she was doing simply by the sound — the clip-clip of hooks and eyes, the swish of the hairbrush, the thump of her shoes and the rattle of the starched apron as she buttoned it round her waist. Then came a moment of solemn silence as she glanced approvingly at the mirror. And after that a hurricane as she whisked the others out of bed.
'May I get up, too, Mary Poppins?'
She answered 'Yes!', to his surprise, and he scrambled out like lightning in case she should change her mind.
His new sweater — navy blue with three red fir-trees — was lying on the chair. And for fear she would stop him wearing it, he dragged it quickly over his head and swaggered in to breakfast.
Jane was buttering her toast.
'How's your cold?' she enquired.
He gave an experimental sniff.
'Gone!' He seized the milk jug.
'I knew it would go,' she said, smiling. 'That's what I wished on the star last night.'
'Just as well you did,' he remarked. 'Now you've got me to play with.'
'There are always the Twins,' she reminded him.
'Not the same thing at all,' he said. 'May I have some more sugar, Mary Poppins?'
He fully expected her to say 'No!' But, instead, she smiled serenely.
'If you want it, Michael,' she replied, with the ladylike nod she reserved for strangers.
