Читать книгу Hollow Tree House - Enid blyton - Страница 4

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The sound of someone singing in a little high voice came through the wood. Susan wiped her eyes for the last time and sat up straight.

‘It must be Angela,’ she said. ‘It sounds like her.’

A girl of about Susan’s age came down a little path towards them. She was very pretty, and her blue, flowery frock suited her beautifully. She had a mop of silky gold hair and blue eyes, though not such a deep blue as those of the other two children.

‘Hallo, Sue, hallo, Peter!’ she said. ‘I wondered if I should see you today.’

Angela was lucky. She had all the things that Susan hadn’t got and wanted so badly. She had a pretty, loving mother, a strong, clever father, a lovely house and garden, and a family of the loveliest dolls Susan had ever seen.

But Angela was not spoilt. Her mother was too sensible and too kind-hearted to spoil Angela and make her think she was wonderful. She tried to make Angela share her things with others who hadn’t so many, and she tried to teach her to be as kind as she herself was.

And Angela was kind. Everyone liked her, not because she was pretty and dainty, or because she had plenty of toys, but because she was merry and kindly, always friendly to everyone. Susan adored her, and her most precious possession was a little doll from Angela’s dolls’ house, that Angela had given her for her birthday.

Angela did not go to the village school. She had a governess, Miss Blair, who taught her each morning. Susan and Peter had met Angela at the Sunday School they all went to. She was in their class.

One afternoon the story had been about the boy with the loaves and fishes, and how pleased he had been when Jesus had, by a miracle, made his simple meal into enough food for thousands of people.

When it was finished Angela had beamed at the teacher. ‘That’s my favourite Bible story,’ she said. ‘My very favourite. I often imagine what that boy must have felt like when Jesus took his picnic basket and fed all the crowd from it! I expect he rushed home to tell his mother all about it.’

Susan had joined in at once. ‘Oh, it’s my favourite story, too. And my next favourite is about the little boy who had sunstroke, and the old man cured him and gave him back to his mother.’

‘I don’t know that one,’ Angela had said. ‘Will you walk home with me and tell me?’

So the three children had walked home together, and Susan had told the story of the little boy who had sunstroke and died. She had found the story for Angela in her Bible, so that she could read it herself. All the children liked the miracle stories, and thought they were full of magic.

‘We could act some of those stories, couldn’t we?’ said Angela, when they stood outside the gate of her home. ‘I love acting and pretending. Oh, do let’s act some of them. We could easily act the boy with sunstroke. You could be the boy, Peter, and I could be Elisha, and Susan could be the poor mother.’

And so a friendship had been begun between the three children, and many a time had they met in the wood and acted all the stories they loved, out of any book they happened to be reading.

Angela had no brothers or sisters, and was a lonely little girl. She had a great imagination and loved pretending. Susan and Peter were great pretenders, too. Angela made their pretence games very real, because her mother let her borrow old curtains or rugs to dress up in.

‘I like you and Peter best of all the village children,’ Angela said to them. ‘You like to play the same games as I do. The others laugh at me if I want them to dress up and act. Let’s be friends, shall we? Real friends, I mean. I haven’t any brothers or sisters, and I’d love to pretend you are my sister and brother. You’re lucky to have each other.’

‘And you’re lucky to have a mother,’ said Susan, at once. ‘Your mother is lovely. She hardly ever scolds, does she? And she’s always so kind. You must love her a lot!’

‘I do,’ said Angela. ‘Well, if you will pretend to be my brother and sister, you will have to share my mother. She likes you, and she says you can come and play with me when you like.’

The children had told Angela about their Aunt Margaret, and had warned her of her bad temper. But Angela, used to being loved and made much of, hadn’t believed that their aunt would be anything but nice to her.

However, after one or two undeserved scoldings Angela had decided to keep away from the bad-tempered woman, and now the children only met in the wood, or at Angela’s own home.

They were pleased to see her that afternoon, as she came through the trees to find them. She saw Susan’s red eyes at once.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked, sitting down beside her. ‘Been getting into trouble with your aunt again? I do think she’s horrid.’

Peter told her what their aunt had said—that she hadn’t wanted them, and grudged every penny spent on them. Then he told her about the two pounds they had to take to school the next day, if they wanted to go to the seaside.

‘Well, that’s easy,’ said Angela, jumping up. ‘I’m sure I’ve got more than that in my money-box at home. I’ll go and get it for you.’

‘No, Angela,’ said Peter. ‘We can’t take your money. Thank you all the same—you’re always so generous. But we just can’t take it.’

‘Why not?’ said Angela. ‘Aren’t I your friend? You’re being silly.’

‘I would take it if I thought I could pay you back,’ said Peter. ‘But I know I can’t.’

‘No, we couldn’t take your money, Angela,’ said Susan, who, badly as she wanted the pound, thought the same as Peter. ‘We could never, never pay it back.’

‘I don’t want you to, silly,’ said Angela, beginning to look indignant. ‘What’s two pounds, anyway?’

‘An awful lot, to us,’ said Peter. ‘It’s just that we don’t like taking money for nothing, Angela. If we could do something in return for it, we would take it.’

‘Well—I know what you could do!’ said Angela, cheering up. ‘You know those lovely little baskets you make from the rushes that grow by the stream? Well, will you make me some of those for Mummy’s sale of work next week? I can fill them with raspberries from the garden and she can sell them. The money is to go towards building a new hospital in the next town so it’s a good cause, isn’t it? You would help Mummy to make a lot of money if you let me buy the baskets and fill them with raspberries.’

Susan’s eyes shone. This did seem a very good way out. She turned to Peter, who still looked a bit doubtful. ‘Peter! Let’s make the baskets, and fill them with wild raspberries ourselves. We know where plenty grow. We’ll charge Angela ten pence a basket, and her mother can sell them for fifty pence each. So we would help her to make a lot of money.’

‘All right,’ said Peter. ‘We would really be earning the two pounds then, and I don’t mind that.’

‘Good,’ said Angela. ‘I’ll get the money now, and you can make the baskets in time for the sale of work, and fill them with wild raspberries the day before.’

She sped off. Susan took Peter’s arm and gave it a tight squeeze. She was overjoyed. She had so few treats, and a day by the sea seemed marvellous to her.

‘Angela’s a sport,’ said Peter. ‘We’ll make our very, very best baskets for her, Sue. We might as well make one or two now while we are waiting for her. Come on down to the stream.’

They picked the long narrow leaves they needed for weaving the little baskets, and then sat down to work. Both children were clever with their fingers, and soon two neat little baskets began to take shape.

Angela soon appeared again, rather out of breath. ‘Here you are,’ she said, and held out two pounds. ‘One for each of you. I hope you will have a good day tomorrow. Oh, you’ve begun on the baskets already—aren’t they sweet?’

‘Thank you,’ said Peter, putting the money carefully into his pocket. He wondered whether or not to tell his aunt they were going to the school treat after all. He decided that he wouldn’t. She might make him give up the two pounds to her!

‘We’ll just go, and say nothing to Aunt Margaret about it,’ he said to Susan. ‘Save up your supper tonight, Susan, if you get any, and we’ll have it for our dinner tomorrow. I daren’t ask Aunt Margaret for sandwiches in case she guesses we’ve got the money to go tomorrow.’

‘I’ve got to go now,’ said Angela. ‘Miss Blair wants me to do something with her. See you at Sunday School, if I don’t see you before! Goodbye and have a lovely time!’

‘Goodbye, and thanks very much,’ said Peter. Susan walked with her a little way, then ran back to Peter, who was finishing off his basket very neatly with a strong little handle.

‘What fun! We’re really going tomorrow!’ said Susan, her blue eyes shining with joy. ‘Oh, Peter—what is the sea really like?’

‘You’ll soon find out,’ said Peter. There—that basket is finished. I’ll hide it somewhere, and put yours away too. Look—under this thick bush would be a good place.’

He hid the two little baskets, and then they went back to their aunt’s cottage. Aunt Margaret was now sitting outside in the garden, mending. She did everything very fast, even darning, and her needle seemed to fly in and out. She looked up as the children came along.

‘There’s some weeding to be done,’ she began, as soon as she saw them. ‘You’ll just have time to do it before you go to bed. Do it well, or there’ll be no supper for you.’

‘Yes, Aunt Margaret,’ said Susan, meekly, feeling that she didn’t mind how much weeding she did, now that she was sure of having a treat the next day. They set to work with a will, and not even their aunt could find fault with the way they weeded that onion bed!

‘You’ll find your supper in the larder, on the blue plate,’ said Aunt Margaret, when they had finished. ‘Eat it, and go to bed.’

Their uncle had not come back. He sometimes stayed away for hours, to be out of reach of his wife’s sharp tongue. Peter and Susan went indoors and opened the larder door. On a plate were two thick sandwiches of bread and cheese.

They were hungry, but they knew they must save the bread and cheese for the next day’s dinner. Keeping an eye on their aunt through the window, they quickly took a newspaper and wrapped up the two sandwiches. Peter stuffed them into his school bag.

‘We’ll take a bottle of water too,’ he said, and filled an old lemonade bottle at the tap. That went into his bag with the sandwiches.

‘Now let’s go up to bed before Aunt begins to ask awkward questions!’ said Peter. ‘Mind you don’t say one single word about the treat at breakfast, Susan!’

Up to bed they went. Peter hid his two pounds under his pillow. It was too precious even to leave in his shorts pocket! It meant a whole day by the sea for both of them.