Jasper and the Green Marvel Read online

  She flew away!

  Strange as it may seem, the rats hadn’t even noticed until then that Nelly had wings. When she was hanging from Mrs Haverford-Snuffley’s hat she always kept them neatly folded against her sides, and so it was a tremendous shock to them when she took off into juddering flight from the edge of the table. She flew high up and circled the chandelier twice on her wide, ribbed black wings, then cried again, ‘You’ll be really sorry! I am going to tell!’ before disappearing off up the hallway, into the darkness of the sleeping house.

  The two rats stared after her. What a night! And now it was almost over, because through the hall window they could see the first faint traces of dawn in the sky. ‘We’d better get back to the room before Jasper wakes up.’

  It was easier said than done. They had wandered all over the house in the course of the night and although they thought they knew the way back, they quickly got lost. They trudged up and down for ages, arguing, blaming each other, both tired by now and beginning to get hungry again. It was a great relief when they finally found Jasper’s room. He was still snoring loudly in his brass bed as they crept back into their sock sleeping-bags, ready to nod off themselves, for they were worn out after all their adventures.

  But to their dismay no sooner had they put their heads on the rolled-up vest and were about to drift off when Jasper’s alarm clock went off with a loud jangle of bells. Oh no!

  ‘Morning, lads! Shake a leg! Wakey-wakey!’

  As Jasper was leaving the house to begin his first day’s work, he bumped into Mrs Knuttmegg at the bottom of the wooden stairs, and she glared at him.

  ‘Hungry during the night then, were you?’ she barked.

  ‘Yes, I was actually,’ Jasper replied. The dinner she had sent up to him the previous evening hadn’t been as mean and mingy as the scones, but it hadn’t been a particularly generous helping either. ‘I was very hungry indeed.’

  Mrs Knuttmegg seemed astonished by this. ‘Well, you’re a cheeky fellow and no mistake.’ And then she announced, for no reason that Jasper could see, ‘There’s nothing Mrs Haverford-Snuffley likes more for her breakfast than stewed apples with cloves, cinnamon and raisins.’

  ‘Then why don’t you cook some for her?’ Jasper said. ‘That’s your job, isn’t it?’

  ‘You pup!’ she cried. ‘You cheeky pup! I’ll let you away with it this time but you watch yourself, mister, because I’ll be watching you. You mind your step.’ And she stumped off back to her kitchen.

  Let me away with it this time? Jasper wondered. Let me away with what? I haven’t done anything. And that talk about stewed apples, what was that all about? The woman’s clearly mad as well as nasty.

  He went out into the sunny garden to start work. Mrs Haverford-Snuffley had suggested he begin by cutting the lawn, which he thought would be easy enough. And it was, in so far as all that was required was to push the mower up and down, stopping from time to time to empty the grass box into a barrow and then to wheel it away. The problem was that the lawns were so huge that it was tremendously hard work. Jasper pushed and cut and emptied and wheeled for hours and still he had made little progress.

  Why didn’t that woman buy one of those nifty mowers with an engine and a seat, he wondered as he emptied the grass box for the umpteenth time. Then I could zoom up and down and get the job done in no time at all. Lunchtime seemed to take forever to come, and the knowledge that the rats were snoozing in his pockets didn’t improve his temper. Lazy creatures! They’ve got bone idle since we left prison. They’re always sleeping these days.

  At last noon came and he settled down to eat the packed lunch that Mrs Knuttmegg had sent up to him in the dumb-waiter that morning. There were cheese sandwiches made on white bread – the most boring sandwiches in the whole world as far as Jasper was concerned. Still, it could have been worse: at least they weren’t egg and onion. There were a couple of apples too and a flask of tea – no chocolate biscuits, in fact no treats at all.

  As he sat there glumly eating his dull lunch Jasper thought to himself, Things really aren’t working out for me here the way I’d planned. I have to work hard, the food’s rubbish and my room is nothing special. The cook’s mad, she doesn’t like me, and my boss is a lulu. Surely a smart chap like me can do far better than this. I should move on and try my luck again elsewhere.

  Just with that, he saw Mrs Haverford-Snuffley approach from the far side of the garden, with the little bat bouncing on the end of the feather.

  ‘Yoo-hoo! May I join you, Professor Orchid?’

  Jasper smiled insincerely. ‘Why of course, dear lady.’ Lulu-in-chief, he thought, as she trotted across the lawn towards him. Queen Lulu.

  As she drew near, he could see that she was carrying a baby fox in her arms and that one of its paws was bandaged up.

  ‘Look at this poor little soldier, Professor Orchid. I found him down by the shrubbery. He’s hurt his foot.’

  ‘How heartbreaking,’ said Jasper.

  ‘Yes, isn’t it?’ she said, not hearing the sarcasm in his voice. ‘But I’ve washed it and strapped it up for him.’

  ‘So now what are you going to do with him?’

  ‘I’ll keep him in the house and look after him until he’s well enough to go back into the wild.’ She had settled herself beside Jasper on the bench and she cuddled the small fox to her.

  ‘Do you know what my dream is, Professor? To open an animal sanctuary right here at Haverford-Snuffley Hall. I’d take in all kinds of creatures: pets, farm animals, wild animals, the lot. Pigs, kittens, hedgehogs, and our little foxy friends. Any animal in need of help or care or a new home would find a refuge here. It would be looked after until it was ready to be released back into the wild or to be settled with some kind people to begin a new life. I should like to help animals in this way more than anything else.’

  ‘So why don’t you do it?’ Jasper asked. Mrs Haverford-Snuffley gave a huge sigh.

  ‘Money, I’m afraid. It would take an absolute fortune. If I sold the house I could afford it, but then I would have nowhere to build the sanctuary. What I need is one single valuable thing that I could sell. For example, some years ago I had a very special painting and I was able to sell that to get the house fixed up. The place was in a dreadful state in those days, quite falling apart. So we got everything mended and improved and we also looked after my dear little batty-watty friends, didn’t we, possum? We did! We did! We made the bats comfy and snug!’

  Mrs Haverford-Snuffley stood up and stroked the fox between its pointed ears. ‘Yes, if only I had something of immense value to sell. It’s at times like this that I wish I knew where the Green Marvel was. Ah well, we can dream, can’t we? Anyway, I must stop chattering and let you get on with your work. Good afternoon, Professor Orchid!’

  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. B
ut 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?’