Free Moominvalley in November by Tove Jansson Page A

backwards and forwards in the kitchen on her high heels, and her thoughts suddenly became anxious and uncertain. 'What do you mean?' she asked.
    'Moominmamma used to whistle while she was cooking,' Mymble said. 'Everything was a little just anyhow... I don't know - it was different. Sometimes they took their food with them and went somewhere, and sometimes they didn't eat at all...'She put her arm over her head in order to go to sleep.
    'I should imagine that I know Moominmamma considerably better than you do,' Fillyjonk said. She greased the baking-tin, threw in the last of the soup from the day before and surreptitiously added a few boiled potatoes which were no longer what they had once been; she got more and more agitated and in the end she dashed over to the sleeping Mymble and shouted: 'You wouldn't lie there sleeping if you knew what I know!'
    Mymble woke up and lay still, looking at Fillyjonk.
    'You've no idea,' whispered Fillyjonk intensely. 'You've no idea what has broken loose in this valley! Horrid things have been let out of the clothes-cupboard upstairs and they're everywhere!' Mymble sat up and asked: 'Is that why you've got fly-paper round your boots?' She yawned and rubbed her nose. She turned round in the doorway and said: 'Don't fuss, there's nothing here that's worse than we are ourselves.'
    'Is she angry?' Grandpa-Grumble asked from the drawing-room.
    'She's scared,' answered Mymble and went up the stairs. 'She's scared of something in the clothes-cupboard.'
    It was now quite dark outside. They had all got used to going to bed when it got dark, and they slept for a long time, longer and longer as the days drew in. Toft crept in like a shadow and gave a mumbled good night and Hemulen turned his nose to the wall. He had decided to build a cupola on the top of Moominpappa's tree-house. He could paint it green and perhaps put gold stars on it. There was generally some gold paint in Moominmamma's desk and he had seen a tin of bronze paint in the woodshed.
    When they were all asleep, Grandpa-Grumble climbed

    the stairs with a candle. He stopped outside the big clothes-cupboard and whispered: 'Are you there? I know you're there.' He opened the cupboard very gently, and the door with the mirror swung open.
    The candle flame was very small and gave very little light in the hall, but Grandpa-Grumble could see the Ancestor quite clearly in front of him. He was wearing a hat and carried a stick and looked highly improbable. His dressing-gown was too long and he was wearing gaiters. But no glasses. Grandpa-Grumble took a step forward and the Ancestor did the same thing.
    'So you don't live in the stove any longer,' said Grandpa-Grumble. 'How old are you? Don't you ever wear glasses?' He was very excited and thumped with his stick on the floor to give emphasis to what he was saying. The Ancestor did the same, but didn't answer.
    He's deaf, said Grandpa-Grumble to himself. A stonedeaf old bag of bones. But in any case it's nice to meet someone who knows what it feels like to be old. He remained there staring at the Ancestor for a long time. The Ancestor did the same. They parted with feelings of mutual esteem.



CHAPTER 15
Nummulite
    THE days were growing shorter and colder. It didn't rain very often. The sun shone down into the valley for a short while each day and the bare trees threw shadows on the ground but in the morning and in the evening everything lay in half-light and then night came. They never saw the sun go down but they did see the yellow glow of the sunset in the sky and the sharp outlines of the mountains all round - it was like living in a well.
    The Hemulen and Toft were building Moominpappa's tree-house. Grandpa-Grumble caught a couple of fish every day and Fillyjonk had begun to whistle.
    It was an autumn without storms and the big thunderstorm didn't come back, but rolled past in the distance with a faint rumbling sound that made the silence in the valley seem even deeper. Only Toft knew that