Catweazle by Richard Carpenter Page B

his
familiar.
    ‘This
Rapkyn was a master, Touchwood. ’Tis all within these pages. This magic I can
understand. Our way back lies here.’
    And
once more, he began to read.

THE MANNIKIN
     
    Susan Bonnington was in
a hurry as she drove her large black car down the winding lane leading to Hexwood
Turkey Farm. She bounced up and down over the potholes and then braked hard as
a tractor came out of a field ahead. She tooted the horn fiercely and then
wound down her window. ‘I say, you. Move!’ she shouted.
    Sam
Woodyard turned to Carrot, sitting beside him on the tractor.
    ‘Don’t
take no notice,’ he said. ‘It’s her again.’
    Behind
them, Miss Bonnington hooted again. ‘I’m in a hurry,’ she shouted.
    ‘Well I
ain’t,’ muttered Sam and the two of them started to laugh.
    The tractor
continued to drive slowly down the lane and Miss Bonnington was forced to
follow. ‘Miss ruddy nuisance Bonnington,’ said Sam to the accompaniment of the
car hooter. ‘I can’t stand her.’
    ‘Neither
can I.’
    ‘What’s
she want, anyway? She’s always hangin’ around.’
    ‘She’s
coming to lunch,’ said Carrot.
    When
the tractor finally reached the yard, the big car accelerated past them and
drove up to the farmhouse. Carrot watched as his father came out to greet her.
    ‘Beats
me what Dad sees in her,’ he said.
    Sam grinned
at him. ‘Better get goin’ old son, or you’ll be late.’
    Carrot
took a deep breath as he went into the diningroom. Miss Bonnington was in full
spate.
    ‘Gave
us a jolly good run. Viewed him across Gamley
    Heath,
drew Meddington Big Wood, and then we lost him. Daddy was livid.’ She paused.
‘Why don’t you hunt, George?’
    ‘I
don’t really have time, Susan,’ said his father.
    ‘Oh,
hullo Edward,’ said Miss Bonnington. ‘Did you enjoy your joke?’
    ‘What
joke?’ said Mr Bennet.
    ‘I was
forced to drive all the way down the lane behind the tractor,’ she said.
‘Thought it terribly funny, didn’t you, Edward?’
    ‘Go and
get washed,’ said Mr Bennet angrily, ‘and put a clean shirt on.’
    Lunch
was misery. Carrot ate mechanically and watched them smiling at each other.
Miss Bonnington kept making feeble jokes and his father laughed at them.
    ‘I
say,’ she said suddenly, ‘that boy’s hair needs a jolly good cut!’ Carrot
glowered at her.
    ‘You’re
right, so it does,’ said his father.
    ‘He’d
better come with me this afternoon,’ she laughed.
    ‘When
do you have to go?’ asked Mr Bennet.
    ‘Oh, my
appointment’s not till four.’
    ‘That’s
splendid!’
    ‘We’ve
masses to talk about,’ she smiled.
    ‘Yes,
we have,’ replied Mr Bennet.
    Carrot didn’t
like the way things were developing. He began to wonder if Catweazle could help
him get rid of this woman; she was obviously after his father, and, unless she
was stopped, she looked like getting him. He asked to be excused and got down
from the table.
    ‘Don’t
forget the hair, Edward,’ said Miss Bonnington loudly.
    ‘No,’
he said, ‘I won’t.’
    When he
climbed into Castle Saburac, Catweazle was deep in a spell. Rapkyn’s book lay
open on a turkey box and the old man was scraping a long hazel stick with Adamcos,
while Touchwood looked on phlegmatically.
    ‘I will
bind thee, Spirit of Time,’ he muttered, ‘By Meltraton, by Raziel, by Cassiel,
and by ... and by...’ he referred to the book, ‘ ’tis so, by Azoth and Ysmael.’
    He
climbed on another box and drew an imaginary circle round himself with the
hazel stick. ‘Galbus, Gal-dat, Galdes, Galdat,’ he intoned and then paused
waiting for his spell to take effect, but with no result at all. ‘Nothing
works!’ he said sadly.
    He
knelt by the box and twirled a twig against a piece of bark in an attempt to
make fire.
    ‘I
didn’t know you were in the Scouts,’ said Carrot.
    ‘Disturb
me not, my brother, I make the Fire of Time.’
    ‘I
tried that once,’ said Carrot. ‘All you get is