The Lives of Christopher Chant. Diana Wynne Jones

your uncle while you get dressed, or your mama will throw fits.” She hurried away with the bottle at arm’s length, swinging on its strap. “I think your uncle’s going to be very pleased,” she called over her shoulder.

      There was no doubt about that. A day later a big parcel arrived for Christopher. The Last Governess brought it up to the schoolroom with some scissors and let him cut the string for himself, which added much to the excitement. Inside was a huge box of chocolates, with a vast red bow and a picture of a boy blowing bubbles on the top. Chocolates were so rare in Christopher’s life that he almost failed to notice the envelope tucked into the bow. It had a gold sovereign in it and a note from Uncle Ralph.

      Well done!!!! it said. Next experiment in a week. Miss Bell will tell you when. Congratulations from your loving uncle.

      This so delighted Christopher that he let the Last Governess have first pick from the chocolates. “I think,” she said dryly, as she picked the nutty kind that Christopher never liked, “that your Mama would like to be offered one before too many are gone.” Then she plucked the note out of Christopher’s fingers and put it in the fire as a hint that he was not to explain to Mama what he had done to earn the chocolates.

      Christopher prudently ate the first layer before he offered the box to Mama. “Oh dear, these are so bad for your teeth!” Mama said, while her fingers hovered over the strawberry and then the truffle. “You do seem to have taken your uncle’s fancy – and that’s just as well, since I’ve had to put all my money in his hands. It’ll be your money one day,” she said as her fingers closed on the fudge. “Don’t let my brother spoil him too much,” she said to the Last Governess. “And I think you’d better take him to a dentist.”

      “Yes, Madam,” said the Last Governess, all meek and drab.

      It was clear that Mama did not have the least suspicion what the chocolates were really about. Christopher was pleased to have been so faithful to Uncle Ralph’s wishes, though he did wish Mama had not chosen the fudge.

      The rest of the chocolates did not last quite the whole week, but they did take Christopher’s mind off the excitement of the next experiment. In fact, when the Last Governess said calmly, the next Friday before bedtime, “Your uncle wants you to go on another dream tonight,” Christopher felt more business-like than excited. “You are to try to get to Series Ten,” said the Last Governess, “and meet the same man as before. Do you think you can do that?”

      “Easy!” Christopher said loftily. “I could do it standing on my head.”

      “Which is getting a little swelled,” remarked the Last Governess. “Don’t forget to brush your hair and clean your teeth and don’t get too confident. This is not really a game.”

      Christopher did honestly try not to feel too confident, but it was easy. He went out on to the path, where he put on his muddy clothes, and then climbed through The Place Between looking for Tacroy. The only difficulty was that the valleys were not arranged in the right order. Number Ten was not next one on from Nine, but quite a way lower down and further on. Christopher almost thought he was not going to find it. But at length he slid down a long slope of yellowish scree and saw Tacroy shining wetly through the mist as he crouched uncomfortably on the valley’s lip. He held out a dripping arm to Christopher.

      “Lord!” he said. “I thought you were never coming. Firm me up, will you? I’m fading back already. The latest girl is nothing like so effective.”

      Christopher took hold of Tacroy’s cold woolly-feeling hand. Tacroy began firming up at once. Soon he was hard and wet and as solid as Christopher, and very pleased about it too. “This was the part your uncle found hardest to believe,” he said while they climbed into the valley. “But I swore to him that I’d be able to see – oh – um. What do you see, Christopher?”

      “It’s the Anywhere where I got my bells,” Christopher said, smiling round the steep green slopes. He remembered it perfectly. This Anywhere had a particular twist to the stream half-way down. But there was something new here – a sort of mistiness just beside the path. “What’s that?” he asked, forgetting that Tacroy could not see the valley.

      But Tacroy evidently could see the valley now he was firmed up. He stared at the mistiness with his eyes ruefully wrinkled.

      “Part of your uncle’s experiment that doesn’t seem to have worked,” he said. “It’s supposed to be a horseless carriage. He was trying to send it through to meet us. Do you think you can firm that up too?”

      Christopher went to the mistiness and tried to put his hand on it. But the thing did not seem to be there enough for him to touch. His hand just went through.

      “Never mind,” said Tacroy. “Your uncle will just have to think again. And the carriage was only one of three experiments tonight.” He insisted that Christopher wrote a big 10 in the dirt of the path, and then they set off down the valley. “If the carriage had worked,” Tacroy explained, “we’d have tried for something bulky. As it is, I get my way and we try for an animal. Lordy! I’m glad you came when you did. I was almost as bad as that carriage. It’s all that girl’s fault.”

      “The lovely young lady with the harp?” asked Christopher.

      “Alas, no,” Tacroy said regretfully. “She took a fit when you firmed me up last time. It seems my body there in London went down to a thread of mist and she thought I was a goner. Screamed and broke her harp strings. Left as soon as I came back. She said she wasn’t paid to harbour ghosts, pointed out that her contract was only for one trance, and refused to come back for twice the money. Pity. I hoped she was made of sterner stuff. She reminded me very much of another young lady with a harp who was once the light of my life.” For a short while, he looked as sad as someone with such a merry face could. Then he smiled. “But I couldn’t ask either of them to share my garret,” he said. “So it’s probably just as well.”

      “Did you need to get another one?” Christopher asked.

      “I can’t do without, unfortunately, unlike you,” Tacroy said. “A professional spirit traveller has to have another medium to keep him anchored – music’s the best way – and to call him back in case of trouble, and keep him warm, and make sure he’s not interrupted by tradesmen with bills and so forth. So your uncle found this new girl in a bit of a hurry. She’s stern stuff all right. Voice like a hatchet. Plays the flute like someone using wet chalk on a blackboard.” Tacroy shuddered slightly. “I can hear it faintly all the time if I listen.”

      Christopher could hear a squealing noise too, but he thought it was probably the pipes of the snake charmers who sat in rows against the city wall in this Anywhere. They could see the city now. It was very hot here, far hotter than Nine. The high muddy-looking walls and the strange-shaped domes above them quivered in the heat, like things under water. Sandy dust blew up in clouds, almost hiding the dirty-white row of old men squatting in front of baskets blowing into pipes. Christopher looked nervously at the fat snakes, each one swaying upright in its basket.

      Tacroy laughed. “Don’t worry. Your uncle doesn’t want a snake any more than you do!”

      The City had a towering but narrow gate. By the time they reached it both were covered in sandy dust and Christopher was sweating through it, in trickles. Tacroy seemed enviably cool. Inside the walls it was even hotter. This was the one drawback to a thoroughly nice Anywhere.

      The shady edges of the streets were crowded with people and goats and makeshift stalls under coloured umbrellas, so that Christopher was forced to walk with Tacroy down the blinding stripe of sun in the middle. Everyone shouted and chattered cheerfully. The air was thick with strange smells, the bleating of goats, the squawks of chickens, and strange clinking music. All the colours were bright, and brightest of all were the small gilded dolls-house things at the corners of streets. These were always heaped with flowers and dishes of food. Christopher thought they must belong to very small gods.

      A lady under an electric blue umbrella gave him some of the sweetmeat she was selling. It was like a