Peace of Mind
The boiler had been fixed, the stained rug replaced, and Robertson Ay had finally stopped using the boot polish on Mr Banks's bowler hat.
All seemed well.
Upstairs, Jane and Michael were quiet. Jane was reading and Michael was staring through his telescope, entranced by the darkening sky. What lay beyond.
Even the twins were babbling quietly, happily. John had his foot in his mouth but Barbara was more sophisticated, she was chewing on the rubber of her bottle. Still, she was amused by his skill.
Perhaps the cause was that it was a Nice Day or perhaps it had been the lovely dinner Mrs Brill had cooked.
Or perhaps it was the creak of the rocking chair by the fire. The boots that needn't push it back and forth, it did it on its own. Expert fingers weaved wool into a scarf, accompanied by a low hum. Comforting. Like toast and warm milk before bed, or a bath.
Mary Poppins had returned once more to Number Seventeen, Cherry Tree Lane. And with her had come silence, peace… Comfort.
Downstairs, Mrs Banks chatted away, barely aware that Mr Banks was trying to read the newspaper.
"As I was saying, dear, it was so nice of her to return."
"Well, she ought to have," snorted Mr Banks, "Considering she gave no notice last time."
"How quiet it is now." Mrs Banks settled into the cushion of her chair, a content smile spreading across her face as she inhaled slowly. "I am inclined to say it's peaceful."
I redid this chapter. Hope it's a little better!