Certainly she followed Mrs Banks upstairs, but not in the usual way. With her large bag in her hands she slid gracefully up the banisters, and arrived at the landing at the same time as Mrs Banks. Such a thing, Jane and Michael knew, had never been done before. Down, of course, for they had often done it themselves. But up – never! They gazed curiously at the strange new visitor.
“Well, that’s all settled, then.” A sigh of relief came from the children’s Mother.
“Quite. As long as I’m satisfied,” said the other, wiping her nose with a large red and white bandanna handkerchief.
“Why, children,” said Mrs Banks, noticing them suddenly, “what are you doing there? This is your new nurse, Mary Poppins. Jane, Michael, say how do you do! And these” – she waved her hand at the babies in their cots – “are the Twins.”
Mary Poppins regarded them steadily, looking from one to the other as though she were making up her mind whether she liked them or not.
“Will we do?” said Michael.
“Michael, don’t be naughty,” said his Mother.
Mary Poppins continued to regard the four children searchingly. Then, with a long, loud sniff that seemed to indicate that she had made up her mind, she said:
“I’ll take the position.”
“For all the world,” as Mrs Banks said to her husband later, “as though she were doing us a signal honour.”
“Perhaps she is,” said Mr Banks, putting his nose round the corner of the newspaper for a moment and then withdrawing it very quickly.
When their Mother had gone, Jane and Michael edged towards Mary Poppins, who stood, still as a post, with her hands folded in front of her.
“How did you come?” Jane asked. “It looked just as if the wind blew you here.”
“It did,” said Mary Poppins briefly. And she proceeded to unwind her muffler from her neck and to take off her hat, which she hung on one of the bedposts.
As it did not seem as though Mary Poppins was going to say any more – though she sniffed a great deal – Jane, too, remained silent. But when she bent down to undo her bag, Michael could not restrain himself.
“What a funny bag!” he said, pinching it with his fingers.
“Carpet,” said Mary Poppins, putting her key in the lock.
“To carry carpets in, you mean?”
“No. Made of.”
“Oh,” said Michael. “I see.” But he didn’t – quite.
By this time the bag was open, and Jane and Michael were more than surprised to find it was completely empty.
“Why,” said Jane, “there’s nothing in it!”
“What do you mean – nothing?” demanded Mary Poppins, drawing herself up and looking as though she had been insulted. “Nothing in it, did you say?”
And with that she took out from the empty bag a starched white apron and tied it round her waist. Next she unpacked a large cake of Sunlight Soap, a toothbrush, a packet of hairpins, a bottle of scent, a small folding armchair and a box of throat lozenges.
Jane and Michael stared.
“But I saw,” whispered Michael. “I’m sure it was empty.”
“Hush!” said Jane, as Mary Poppins took out a large bottle labelled “One Teaspoon to be Taken at Bedtime.”
A spoon was attached to the neck of the bottle, and into this Mary Poppins poured a dark crimson fluid.
“Is that your medicine?” enquired Michael, looking very interested.
“No, yours,” said Mary Poppins, holding out the spoon to him. Michael stared. He wrinkled up his nose. He began to protest.
“I don’t want it. I don’t need it. I won’t!”
But Mary Poppins’ eyes were fixed upon him, and Michael suddenly discovered that you could not look at Mary Poppins and disobey her. There was something strange and extraordinary about her – something that was frightening and at the same time most exciting. The spoon came nearer. He held his breath, shut his eyes and gulped. A delicious taste ran round his mouth. He turned his tongue in it. He swallowed, and a happy smile ran round his face.
“Strawberry ice,” he said ecstatically. “More, more, more!”
But Mary Poppins, her face as stern as before, was pouring out a dose for Jane. It ran into the spoon, silvery, greeny, yellowy. Jane tasted it.
“Lime-juice cordial,” she said, sliding her tongue deliciously over her lips. But when she saw Mary Poppins moving towards the Twins with the bottle Jane rushed at her.
“Oh, no – please. They’re too young. It wouldn’t be good for them. Please!”
Mary Poppins, however, took no notice, but with a warning, terrible glance at Jane, tipped the spoon towards John’s mouth. He lapped at it eagerly, and by the few drops that were spilt on his bib, Jane and Michael could tell that the substance in the spoon this time was milk. Then Barbara had her share, and she gurgled and licked the spoon twice.
Mary Poppins then poured out another dose and solemnly took it herself.
“Rum punch,” she said, smacking her lips and corking the bottle.
Jane’s eyes and Michael’s popped with astonishment, but they were not given much time to wonder, for Mary Poppins, having put the miraculous bottle on the mantelpiece, turned to them.
“Now,” she said, “spit-spot into bed.” And she began to undress them. They noticed that whereas buttons and hooks had needed all sorts of coaxing from Katie Nanna, for Mary Poppins they flew apart almost at a look. In less than a minute they found themselves in bed and watching, by the dim light from the nightlight, the rest of Mary Poppins’ unpacking being performed.
From the carpet-bag she took out seven flannel nightgowns, four cotton ones, a pair of boots, a set of dominoes, two bathing caps and a postcard album. Last of all came a folding camp bedstead with blankets and eiderdown complete, and this she set down between John’s cot and Barbara’s.
Jane and Michael sat hugging themselves and watching. It was all so surprising that they could find nothing to say. But they knew, both of them, that something strange and wonderful had happened at Number Seventeen, Cherry Tree Lane.
Mary Poppins, slipping one of the flannel nightgowns over her head, began to undress underneath it as though it were a tent. Michael, charmed by this strange new arrival, unable to keep silent any longer, called to her.
“Mary Poppins,” he cried, “you’ll never leave us, will you?”
There was no reply from under the nightgown. Michael could not bear it.
“You won’t leave us, will you?” he called anxiously.
Mary Poppins’ head came out of the top of the nightgown. She looked very fierce.
“One word more from that direction,” she said threateningly, “and I’ll call the Policeman.”
“I was only saying,” began Michael, meekly, “that we hoped you wouldn’t be going away soon—” He stopped, feeling very red and confused.
Mary Poppins stared from him to Jane in silence. Then she sniffed.
“I’ll stay till the wind changes,” she said shortly, and she blew out her candle and got into bed.
“That’s all right,” said Michael, half to himself and half to Jane. But Jane wasn’t listening. She was thinking about all that had happened, and wondering. . .