Читать книгу Holiday House - Enid blyton - Страница 4

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The twins shook hands with Mrs Holly. She was a real country woman, with bright red cheeks, and hair the colour of corn. Her eyes were very blue as she smiled at them.

‘She’s nice—but Mother would say “there’s no nonsense about her”!’ thought Mary as she got into the car. ‘We’ll have to be careful, or she’ll tick us off properly.’

Mrs Holly’s small girl, Ruth, watched the twins from her seat beside the driver. Her eyes were as sharp as her voice! She missed nothing at all.

‘The poodle mustn’t sit on the car seat, must he, Mummy?’ she said to her mother. ‘He must get down.’

‘She’s a she, not a he,’ said Pat. ‘And, anyway, she’s not on the seat. She’s on my knee. She’s as good as gold.’

‘She looks a dear,’ said Mrs Holly, driving off from the little halt. ‘What’s her name?’

‘Tippy,’ said Mary. ‘Short for Tippy-Toes. Poodles always look as if they walk about on tip-toe, don’t they?’

‘We’ve got a cat at home,’ said Ruth, in her sharp little voice. ‘A big tom-cat, black as soot, called Gruff. He doesn’t mind dogs a bit.’

‘He’s used to them,’ said Mrs Holly. ‘He’ll soon be playing with Tippy.’

‘Er—well, I hope you’re right,’ said Pat. ‘Tippy sometimes chases cats.’

‘He won’t chase Gruff,’ said Ruth at once. ‘No dog has ever chased Gruff. You can’t chase a cat that doesn’t run away. He just sits down hard and refuses to run.’

‘Are there any other children at Holiday House, Mrs Holly?’ asked Mary.

‘Yes,’ said Ruth, answering before her mother could get a word in. ‘There’s dear, darling Maureen and her sniffy nurse, and there’s Tessa, the ugliest baby you ever saw, and there’s John, who’s going tomorrow he’s a nuisance.’

‘That’s enough, Ruth,’ said her mother, sharply. ‘You’re not to talk like that. I’ve told you before.’

Ruth took no notice. ‘And there’s a very big boy called Graham. I call him Gloomy Graham.’

‘Why?’ asked Pat, rather amused with all this chatter from Ruth.

‘Well—because he’s gloomy, of course,’ said Ruth. ‘He’s a bookworm too—he sits with his nose buried in books all day long, he never plays a game, and he never smiles.’

‘Oh, Ruth, how you do run on!’ said her mother. ‘Don’t take any notice of her tongue, children—it runs away with her. Graham isn’t really gloomy—he’s just working very hard for an exam. He’s fifteen. He had a tutor who stayed here with him, to help him, but he had a fall the other day and had to go to hospital—so now poor Graham is working on his own, all day long.’

‘So you won’t have anyone exciting to play with,’ said Ruth. ‘John’s exciting, but he’s going—he’s a bad boy, isn’t he, Mummy? I’ll tell you what he did, he ...’

‘You are not to tell tales, Ruth,’ said her mother. ‘Now just be quiet. You talk too much.’

‘I don’t,’ said Ruth. ‘I’m just being polite to visitors now. I’m just telling Pat and Mary that it’s a pity they won’t have anyone to play with. Except me, of course.’

The twins felt that they really didn’t want to play with Ruth—she would want to boss them, though they were almost three years older than she was.

‘We don’t need anyone to play with,’ said Pat, firmly. ‘We’re twins, so we’ve always got each other. You needn’t worry about us, Ruth—we shall never be dull. We never are.’

‘Here we are!’ said Mrs Holly, turning into a long drive. ‘Holiday House. I hope you’ll have a lovely time here and come back again often—especially in the summer holidays when we are packed out with children—it’s fun then.’

The drive curved round to a very big house—almost a mansion. At one end was a tall square tower, built in the same grey stone as the rest of the house. Ivy grew up the walls and surrounded most of the windows of the old tower.

‘I like it,’ said Mary. ‘It looks old and as if plenty of things have happened here.’

‘They have,’ said Mrs Holly, getting out of the car. ‘But we’re quiet and peaceful now. Nothing tremendously exciting ever happens at Holiday House except things like picnics and parties. It’s a house for children. Come along in.’

Carrying their suitcases the twins went in at the big, open double doors into a hall whose stone floor was set with gay rugs. Flowers stood about in tall vases and there was a scent of roses as they walked down the hall. The twins sniffed in pleasure—but not only at the smell of roses!

A delicious odour of baking cakes came from somewhere too. ‘That’s Mrs Potts baking special scones,’ explained Ruth. ‘That’s because you’ve come. And she’s made a fruit-cake too, with cherries in. I saw it this morning.’

This sounded good. The twins felt very cheerful as they went up the big stone staircase on to a broad landing flooded with sunshine. Mary glanced out of one of the windows and gave a cry of delight.

‘Oh! Look, Pat, we’re almost on the sea!’

Pat went to the window and looked out too. Yes—the big house was almost on the beach, it looked so near. It was good to see the sparkling sea, heaving and swelling so close to them.

‘Your rooms look on the sea, too,’ said Ruth, reading his thoughts. ‘Mummy, I’ll take them to their rooms. I know which ones they are.’

Ruth seemed to know everything! Mrs Holly went downstairs while Ruth led the way onwards, with the twins and Tippy behind. Pat slipped the poodle off the lead and she darted away to sniff into the corners.

Ruth led them right down the corridor, and then off into a small, narrow passage with stone walls. It curved round after a bit and came out on to another landing, much narrower than the first one. From this a few little stone steps led up to a wooden door with an iron handle.

‘Here’s where you are to be,’ said Ruth, and turned the handle. The door swung open and Mary gave a cry of delight. The big window opposite seemed full of sea and sky! They filled the room with a great clear light.

‘This is really two rooms,’ said Ruth, and pointed to a small door in the wall. ‘At least, it’s one room, but Mummy’s had it made into two. You each get a bit of the window—the other half of it is in this room here.’

She opened the door in the wall, which was not made of stone, like the others, but of panelled wood, and the twins looked through the doorway. Another room, just like the first one, was there.

‘You take this room, Mary, and I’ll have the other,’ said Patrick, walking into the second room. ‘I say—isn’t it smashing to be able to lean out of our window and look right down on the sea—it almost comes to the walls.’

‘In winter we have to keep all these windows shut,’ said Ruth. ‘Because the waves splash into the rooms if we don’t.’

‘Where’s the tower?’ asked Pat, going back into the first room. ‘I’d like to see that.’

‘Graham has his room there,’ said Ruth. ‘Gloomy Graham! It’s best to leave him alone. I think he’s queer.’ She went to the door and pointed to the end of the landing. ‘See that opening in the wall there? Well, that’s where the spiral stairway begins. It goes all the way up to the tower. Graham has the second room up. Nobody is ever in the top one, because it’s a bit ruined and is dangerous.’

This all sounded very exciting. The twins made up their minds to explore everywhere as soon as ever they could. Pat was now getting rather tired of Ruth, and thought it would be nice to get rid of her.

‘We’re going to unpack,’ he said. ‘You just show us the bathroom, Ruth, and then you don’t need to stay with us any longer.’

‘But I’d like to see you unpack,’ said Ruth. ‘I don’t mind staying.’

Patrick thought he had better put Ruth in her place at once. ‘We’d rather unpack alone,’ he said, firmly. ‘Now—where’s the bathroom. Show us that and then scoot.’

Ruth put on a scowl. ‘You might as well say straight out that you don’t want me,’ she said.

‘All right—you’ve said it!’ said Pat. ‘It’s nice of you to help, but we can manage now. Where’s the bathroom? It will soon be teatime and we really must wash.’

‘Find it yourself,’ said Ruth, rudely, and marched off. She slammed the door and then reopened it almost immediately.

‘Tea’s at five,’ she announced. ‘You’ll hear a loud gong—and you’d better come, or everything will be eaten.’

The door slammed again. Pat gave a laugh. ‘My word—anyone would think she ran this place!’

‘You weren’t awfully polite to her,’ said Mary. ‘She’ll probably tell her mother.’

‘Let her,’ said Patrick. ‘Miss Rattle-Tongue will have to be kept in her place, Mary, or we’ll never get rid of her.’

Mary giggled. ‘What an awful name for her—but honestly she is a rattle-tongue. She goes on and on. She’ll be awfully nosy too, I expect.’

‘Let’s unpack,’ said Pat. ‘It’s almost five o’clock. You go and find the bathroom, Mary, while I undo the cases.’

‘Right,’ said Mary, and went out of the door. She was soon back again. ‘It’s near where the stairway goes up the tower,’ she said. ‘It’s a stone stairway, Pat—and it goes round and round as it goes up.’

‘We’ll explore it,’ said Pat. ‘Gosh—there’s the gong; it must be five o’clock. Quick, let’s wash and go down—we’ll unpack afterwards. Tippy, where are you? Come along and have some tea!’

‘And look out for Gruff, the cat!’ said Mary. ‘The Cat-That-Can’t-Be-Chased, Tippy!’