Meanwhile Sophie and Michael put on their fine clothes and openedthe shop. Howl insisted on the fine clothes. He said it would attractcustom. Sophie insisted they all wore aprons. And after the first fewdays, when the people of Market Chipping simply stared through thewindow and did not come into the shop, the shop became very popular.Word had gone round that Jenkins had flowers like no flowers everseen before. People Sophie had known all her life came and boughtflowers by the bundle. None of them recognized her, and that made herfeel very odd. They all thought she was Howl’s old mother. ButSophie had had enough of being Howl’s old mother.“I’m his aunt,” she told Mrs. Cesari. She becameknow as Aunt Jenkins.

By the time Howl arrived in the shop, in a black apron to matchhis suit, he usually found it quite busy. He made it busier still.This was when Sophie began to be sure that the black suit was reallythe charmed gray-and-scarlet one. Any lady Howl served was sure to goaway with at least twice the number of flowers she asked for. Most ofthe time Howl charmed them into buying ten times as much. Beforelong, Sophie noticed ladies peering in and deciding not to come intothe shop when they saw Howl there. She did not blame them. If youjust want a rose for a buttonhole, you do not want to be forced tobuy three dozen orchids. She did not discourage Howl when Howl tookto spending long hours in the workshed across the yard.

“I’m setting up defenses against the Witch, before youask,” he said. “By the time I’ve finished, therewill be no way she can get into any part of this place.”

There was sometimes a problem with leftover flowers. Sophie couldnot bear to see them wilting overnight. She found she could keep themfairly fresh if she talked to them. After that, she talked to flowersa lot. She got Michael to make her a plant-nutrition spell, and sheexperimented in buckets in the sink, and in tubs in the alcove whereshe used to trim hats. She found she could keep some plants fresh fordays. So of course she experimented some more. She got the soot outof the yard and planted things in it, muttering busily. She grew anavy-blue rose like that, which pleased her greatly. Its buds werecoal black, and its flowers opened bluer and bluer until they becamealmost the same blue as Calcifer. Sophie was so delighted with itthat she took roots from all the bags hanging on the beams andexperimented with those. She told herself she had never been happierin her life.

This was not true. Something was wrong, and Sophie could notunderstand what. Sometimes she thought it was the way no one inMarket Chipping recognized her. She did not dare go and see Martha,for fear Martha would not know her either. She did not dare tip theflowers out of the seven-league boots and go and see Lettie for thesame reason. She just could not bear either of her sisters to see heras an old woman.

Michael went off with bunches of spare flowers to see Martha allthe time. Sometimes Sophie thought that was what was the matter withher. Michael was so cheerful, and she was left on her own in the shopmore and more often. But that did not seem to be quite it. Sophieenjoyed selling flowers on her own.

Sometimes the trouble seemed to be Calcifer. Calcifer was bored.He had nothing to do except to keep the castle gently drifting alongthe lanes of grass and round the various pools and lakes, and to makesure that they arrived in a new spot, with new flowers, everymorning. His blue face was always leaning eagerly out of the gratewhen Sophie and Michael came in with their flowers. “I want tosee what it’s like out there,” he said. Sophie broughthim tasty smelling leaves to burn, which made the castle room smellas strongly as the bathroom, but Calcifer said what he really wantedwas company. They went in to the shop all day and left him alone.

So Sophie made Michael serve in the shop for at least an hourevery morning while she went and talked to Calcifer. She inventedguessing games to keep Calcifer occupied when she was busy. ButCalcifer was still discontented. “When are you going to breakmy contract with Howl?” he asked more and more often.

And Sophie put Calcifer off. “I’m working onit,” she said. “It won’t be long now.” Thiswas not quite true. Sophie had stopped thinking of it unless she hadto. When she put together what Mrs. Pentstemmon had said with all thethings Howl and Calcifer had said, she found she had some strong andrather terrible ideas about the contract. She was sure that breakingit would be the end of both Howl and Calcifer. Howl might deserve it,but Calcifer did not. And since Howl seemed to be working quite hardin order to slither out of the rest of the Witch’s curse,Sophie wanted to do nothing unless she could help.

Sometimes Sophie thought it was simply that the dog-man wasgetting her down. He was such a doleful creature. The only time heseemed to enjoy himself was when he chased down the green lanesbetween the bushes every morning. For the rest of the day he trudgedgloomily about after Sophie, sighing deeply. As Sophie could donothing about him either, she was rather glad when the dog-man tookto lying in patches of shade out in the yard, panting.

Meanwhile the roots Sophie had planted had become quiteinteresting. The onion had become a small palm tree and was sproutinglittle onion-scented nuts. Another root grew into a sort of pinksunflower. Only one was slow to grow. When it at last put out tworound green leaves, Sophie could hardly wait to see what it wouldgrow into. The next day it looked as if it might be an orchid. It hadpointed leaves spotted with mauve and a long green stalk growing outof the middle with a large bud on it. The day after that, Sophie leftthe fresh flowers in the tin bath and hurried eagerly to the alcoveto see how it was getting on.

The bud had opened into a pink flower like an orchid that had beenthrough a mangle. It was flat, and joined to the stalk just below around tip. There were four petals sprouting from a plump pink middle,two pointing downward and two more halfway up that stuck outsideways. While Sophie stared at it, a strong scent of spring flowerswarned her that Howl had come in and was standing behind her.

“What is that thing?” he said. “If you wereexpecting an ultra-violet violet or an infra-red geranium, you got itwrong, Mrs. Mad Scientist.”

“It looks like a squashed-baby flower,” Michael said,coming to look.

It did too. Howl shot Michael an alarmed look and picked up theflower in its pot. He slid it out of the pot into his hand, where hecarefully separated the white, thready roots and the soot and theremains of the manure spell, until he uncovered the brown, forkedroot Sophie had grown it from. “I might have guessed,” hesaid. “It’s mandrake root. Sophie strikes again. You dohave a touch, don’t you, Sophie?” He put the plantcarefully back, passed it to Sophie, and went away, looking ratherpale.

So that was almost all the curse come true, Sophie thought as shewent to arrange the fresh flowers in the shopwindow. The mandrakeroot had had a baby. That only left one more thing: the wind toadvance an honest mind. If that meant Howl’s mind had tobe honest, Sophie thought, there was a chance that the curse mightnever come true. She told herself it served Howl right anyway, forgoing courting Miss Angorian every morning in a charmed suit, but shestill felt alarmed and guilty. She arranged a sheaf of white liliesin a seven-league boot. She crawled into the window to get them justso, and she heard a regular clump, clump, clump from outside in thestreet. It was not the sound of a horse. It was the sound of a stickhitting the stones.

Sophie’s heart was behaving oddly even before she dared lookout of the window. There, sure enough, came the scarecrow, hoppingslowly and purposefully down the center of the street. The ragstrailing from its outstretched arms were fewer and grayer, and theturnip of its face was withered into a look of determination, as ifit had hopped ever since Howl hurled it away, until at last it hadhopped its way back.