Read Online Nanny McPhee Returns by Emma Thompson - Free Book Online
Authors: Emma Thompson
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taking everything off to breathe for a bit and put it all back on. Still, at least I’m not playing a Klingon. It’s very, very hot and the children have been majestic.
The Story 15
Chapter Thirty-Seven. (Oh all right, it can’t be, but I don’t know how to do chapters. This is my first book. Why does one have to chop up a story into chunks? Is it just to give you an excuse to put the book down? That doesn’t seem right. It’s a new bit anyway – you decide if you want it to be a new chapter.)
Back in the kitchen, time was playing odd tricks, for as soon as Mrs Green had got the teapot down from the dresser, the children came quietly out of the sitting room and past her up the stairs. Nanny McPhee had only just gone in, Mrs Green thought, and so she almost dropped the teapot. When she saw the state of the children, she had to sit down. It was impossible! They were all clean and tidy! They were saying goodnight to her, very politely, and, most miraculous of all, they had stopped fighting!! Nanny McPhee came out too and stood staring at her with an odd little smile at the corner of her mouth.
‘These children need five lessons, Mrs Green. Lesson One – to stop fighting – is complete.’
Mrs Green gulped.
‘Early beds tonight, I think. Leave it to me. You should have a little time to yourself,’ said Nanny McPhee, noiselessly following the last child up to the bedroom.
Mrs Green gulped again. Time to herself? She couldn’t remember when anything like that had last happened. She sat for one more astonished moment before leaping to her feet and rushing headlong into the bathroom.
In the bedroom, the children were grouped in two corners of the room, regarding each other in hostile silence. No one quite understood exactly what had happened or how it had happened, and no one would dare to fight again, but they were still mortal enemies. Nanny McPhee glided into the room and eyed them all beadily. Then she cleared her throat. Everyone looked at her. The stick was nowhere to be seen.
‘I am going to explain to you the way I work,’ she said.
‘That’ll take some doing,’ muttered Cyril.
‘Do try and remember this,’ she continued, ignoring Cyril. ‘When you need me but do not want me, then I must stay. When you want me but no longer need me, then I have to go.’
The children frowned. Then Cyril, who was good at being rude when the occasion demanded it, said what they were all thinking.
‘How could anyone possibly ever want you ?’
Instead of being cross, Nanny McPhee gazed at him equably. ‘Well, it’s an odd thought, I grant you, but there it is,’ she said. ‘Now, to business. In the absence of any spare beds, Norman, I presume, will be sharing with Cyril?’
‘I’d rather share with a goat,’ said Norman immediately.
‘A goat wouldn’t have you,’ retorted Cyril.
‘I see,’ said Nanny McPhee calmly. ‘Megsie, Celia – would you be willing to share?’
‘I’d rather share with Geraldine,’ snapped Megsie.
‘She’s our cow,’ explained Vincent helpfully, busy wondering what he’d rather share his bed with.
‘I’m not sharing anything with that vicious harpy!’ said Celia.
‘And I’d rather share with an elephant!’ crowed Vincent, happy to have made a decision. Next to pigs, elephants were his favourite.
‘Thank you, Vincent, but you will not be required to share, owing to the size of your bed. The rest of you, however, will have to come to some arrangement.’
‘Never!’ said Norman,
‘Never!’ said Megsie,
‘Never!’ said Celia,
‘Never!’ said Cyril,
and
‘NEVER!’ yelled Vincent, delighted to have the last word for once.
Nanny McPhee frowned. The cloak began to move aside. Uh-oh.
Downstairs, time had been playing funny tricks again, for Mrs Green had had half an hour to have a proper bath and wash her hair. She hadn’t been able to have more than a two-minute wash for what felt like months and she felt like a new woman. She looked up the
The Story 15
Chapter Thirty-Seven. (Oh all right, it can’t be, but I don’t know how to do chapters. This is my first book. Why does one have to chop up a story into chunks? Is it just to give you an excuse to put the book down? That doesn’t seem right. It’s a new bit anyway – you decide if you want it to be a new chapter.)
Back in the kitchen, time was playing odd tricks, for as soon as Mrs Green had got the teapot down from the dresser, the children came quietly out of the sitting room and past her up the stairs. Nanny McPhee had only just gone in, Mrs Green thought, and so she almost dropped the teapot. When she saw the state of the children, she had to sit down. It was impossible! They were all clean and tidy! They were saying goodnight to her, very politely, and, most miraculous of all, they had stopped fighting!! Nanny McPhee came out too and stood staring at her with an odd little smile at the corner of her mouth.
‘These children need five lessons, Mrs Green. Lesson One – to stop fighting – is complete.’
Mrs Green gulped.
‘Early beds tonight, I think. Leave it to me. You should have a little time to yourself,’ said Nanny McPhee, noiselessly following the last child up to the bedroom.
Mrs Green gulped again. Time to herself? She couldn’t remember when anything like that had last happened. She sat for one more astonished moment before leaping to her feet and rushing headlong into the bathroom.
In the bedroom, the children were grouped in two corners of the room, regarding each other in hostile silence. No one quite understood exactly what had happened or how it had happened, and no one would dare to fight again, but they were still mortal enemies. Nanny McPhee glided into the room and eyed them all beadily. Then she cleared her throat. Everyone looked at her. The stick was nowhere to be seen.
‘I am going to explain to you the way I work,’ she said.
‘That’ll take some doing,’ muttered Cyril.
‘Do try and remember this,’ she continued, ignoring Cyril. ‘When you need me but do not want me, then I must stay. When you want me but no longer need me, then I have to go.’
The children frowned. Then Cyril, who was good at being rude when the occasion demanded it, said what they were all thinking.
‘How could anyone possibly ever want you ?’
Instead of being cross, Nanny McPhee gazed at him equably. ‘Well, it’s an odd thought, I grant you, but there it is,’ she said. ‘Now, to business. In the absence of any spare beds, Norman, I presume, will be sharing with Cyril?’
‘I’d rather share with a goat,’ said Norman immediately.
‘A goat wouldn’t have you,’ retorted Cyril.
‘I see,’ said Nanny McPhee calmly. ‘Megsie, Celia – would you be willing to share?’
‘I’d rather share with Geraldine,’ snapped Megsie.
‘She’s our cow,’ explained Vincent helpfully, busy wondering what he’d rather share his bed with.
‘I’m not sharing anything with that vicious harpy!’ said Celia.
‘And I’d rather share with an elephant!’ crowed Vincent, happy to have made a decision. Next to pigs, elephants were his favourite.
‘Thank you, Vincent, but you will not be required to share, owing to the size of your bed. The rest of you, however, will have to come to some arrangement.’
‘Never!’ said Norman,
‘Never!’ said Megsie,
‘Never!’ said Celia,
‘Never!’ said Cyril,
and
‘NEVER!’ yelled Vincent, delighted to have the last word for once.
Nanny McPhee frowned. The cloak began to move aside. Uh-oh.
Downstairs, time had been playing funny tricks again, for Mrs Green had had half an hour to have a proper bath and wash her hair. She hadn’t been able to have more than a two-minute wash for what felt like months and she felt like a new woman. She looked up the
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