Читать книгу Five Have Plenty of Fun - Enid blyton - Страница 4

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The five were on the beach in two minutes, and Julian undid the basket. It was full of neatly packed sandwiches, and packets of biscuits and chocolate. A bag contained ripe plums, and there were two bottles of lemonade.

“Home-made!” said Dick, taking it out. “And icy-cold. And what’s this? A fruit cake—a whole fruit cake—we’re in luck.”

“Woof,” said Timmy, approvingly, and sniffed inside the basket.

Wrapped in brown paper were some biscuits and a bone, together with a small pot of paste. George undid the packet. “I packed these for you, Timmy,” she said. “Say thank you!”

Timmy licked her so lavishly that she cried out for mercy. “Pass me the towel, Ju!” she said. “Timmy’s made my face all wet. Get away now, Timmy—you’ve thanked me quite enough! Get away, I said. How can I spread paste on your biscuits for you if you stick your nose into the pot all the time?”

“You spoil Timmy dreadfully,” said Anne. “All right, all right—you needn’t scowl at me, George! I agree that he’s worth spoiling. Take your bone a bit further away from me, Tim—it’s smelly!”

They were soon eating sardine sandwiches with tomatoes, and egg-and-lettuce sandwiches after that. Then they started on the fruit cake and the lemonade.

“I can’t think why people ever have table-meals when they can have picnics,” said Dick. “Think of Uncle and Aunt and those two men tucking into a hot meal indoors on a day like this. Phew!”

“I liked that big American,” said George.

“Aha! We all know why,” said Dick, annoyingly. “He thought you were a boy. Will you ever grow out of that, George?”

“Timmy’s trying to get at the cake!” said Anne. “Quick, George, stop him!”

They all lay back on the sand after their picnic, and Julian began a long story of some trick that he and Dick had played on their form-master at school. He was most annoyed because nobody laughed at the funny part, and sat up to see why.

“All asleep!” he said, in disgust. Then he cocked his head just as Timmy pricked up his ears. A loud roaring noise came to him.

“Just the American revving up his car, do you think, Tim?” said Julian. The boy stood up and saw the great car tearing down the sea road.

The day was too hot to do anything but laze. The Five were quite content to do that on their first day together again. Soon they would want to plan all kinds of things, but the first day at Kirrin was a day for picking up old threads, teasing Timmy, getting into the “feel” of things again, as Dick said.

Dick and Julian had been abroad for four weeks, and Anne had been away to camp and had had a school friend to stay with her at home afterwards. George had been alone at Kirrin, so it was wonderful to all the Five to meet together once more for three whole summer weeks. At Kirrin too, Kirrin by the sea, with its lovely beach, its fine boating—and its exciting little island across Kirrin Bay!

As usual the first day or two passed in a kind of dream, and then the children began to plan exciting things to do.

“We’ll go to Kirrin Island again,” said Dick. “We’ve not been there for ages.”

“We’ll go fishing in Lobster Cove,” said Julian.

“We’ll go and explore some of the caves in the cliffs,” said George. “I meant to do that these holls but somehow it’s no fun going alone.”

On the third day, just as they were finishing making their beds, the telephone bell rang.

“I’ll go!” yelled Julian to his aunt, and went to answer it. An urgent voice spoke at the other end.

“Who’s that? Oh, you, Julian—you’re Quentin’s nephew, aren’t you? Listen, tell your uncle I’m coming over tonight—yes, tonight. Latish, say. Tell him to wait up for me. It’s important.”

“But, won’t you speak to him yourself?” said Julian, surprised. “I’ll fetch him, if you’ll ...”

But the line had gone dead. Julian was puzzled. The man hadn’t even given his name—but Julian had recognised the voice. It was the big, cheery American who had come to see his uncle two days before! What had happened? What was all the excitement about?

He went to find his uncle but he was not in his study. So he found his aunt instead.

“Aunt Fanny,” he said, “I think that was the big American on the phone—the one who came to lunch the other day. He said I was to tell Uncle Quentin that he was coming here tonight—late, he said—and that Uncle was to wait up for him, because it was important.”

“Dear me!” said his aunt, startled. “Is he going to stay the night then? We’ve no bedroom free now you and the others are there.”

“He didn’t say, Aunt Fanny,” said Julian. “I’m awfully sorry not to be able to tell you any details—but just as I was saying I’d fetch Uncle Quentin, he rang off—in the very middle of what I was saying.”

“How mysterious!” said his Aunt. “And how annoying. How can I put him up, if he wants to stay? I suppose he’ll come roaring down at midnight in that enormous car of his. I only hope nothing’s gone wrong with this latest work your uncle is doing. I know it’s tremendously important.”

“Perhaps Uncle will know the American’s telephone number and he can ring him up to find out a bit more,” said Julian, helpfully. “Where is Uncle?”

“He’s gone down to the post-office, I think,” said his aunt. “I’ll tell him when he gets back.”

Julian told the others about the mysterious phone call. Dick was pleased.

“I didn’t have a chance of getting a good look at that enormous car the other day,” he said. “I think I’ll keep awake tonight till the American comes and then nip down and have a look at it. I bet it’s got more gadgets on the dashboard than any car I’ve ever seen!”

Uncle Quentin appeared to be as surprised as anyone else at the phone-call, and was inclined to blame Julian for not finding out more details.

“What’s he want now?” he demanded, almost as if Julian ought to know! “I fixed everything up with him the other day. Everything. Each of us three has his own part to do. Mine’s the least important, as it happens—and his is the most important. He took all the papers away with him, he can’t have left any behind. Coming down in the middle of the night like this—quite extraordinary!”

None of the children except Dick meant to stay awake and listen for the American’s coming. Dick put on his bed-light and took up a book to read. He knew he would fall asleep and not wake up for any noise, if he didn’t somehow keep himself wide-awake!

He listened as he read, his ear alert to hear the coming of any car. Eleven o’clock came—then midnight struck. He listened to the twelve dongs from the big grandfather clock in the hall. Goodness—Uncle Quentin wouldn’t be at all pleased that his visitor was so late!

He yawned, and turned over his page. He read on and on. Half-past twelve. One o’clock. Then he thought he heard a sound downstairs and opened his door. Yes—it was Uncle Quentin in his study. Dick could hear his voice.

“Poor old Aunt Fanny must be up too,” he thought. “I can hear their voices. Gosh, I shall soon fall asleep over my book. I’ll slip down and out into the garden for a breath of fresh air. I shall keep awake then.”

He put on his dressing-gown and went quietly down the stairs. He undid the bolt of the garden door and slipped out. He stood listening for a moment, wondering if he would hear the roar of the American’s car in the stillness of the night.

But all he heard was the sound of the tyres of a bicycle on the road outside. A bicycle! Who was riding about at this time of night? Perhaps it was the village policeman?

Dick stood in the shadows and watched. A man was on the bicycle. Dick could just make him out dimly, a big black shadow in the star-lit night. To the boy’s enormous surprise, he heard the sound of the man dismounting, then the swish of the leaves in the hedge as the bicycle was slung there.

Then someone came quietly up the path and went round to the window of the study. It was the only room in the house that was lighted. Dick heard a tapping on the window, and then it was opened cautiously. His uncle’s head appeared.

“Who is it?” he said, in a low tone. “Is it you, Elbur?”

It apparently was. Dick saw that it was the big American who had visited his uncle two days before. “I’ll open the door,” said his aunt, but Elbur was already putting his leg across the window-sill!

Dick went back to bed, puzzled. How strange! Why should the American come so secretly in the night, why should he ride a bicycle instead of driving his car? He fell asleep still wondering.

He did not know whether the American rode away again, or whether his aunt made a bed for him on a couch downstairs. In fact, when he awoke the next morning, he really wondered if it had all been a dream.

He asked his aunt, when he went down to breakfast. “Did that man who telephoned come last night?” he said.

His aunt nodded her head. “Yes. But please say nothing about it. I don’t want anyone to know. He’s gone now.”

“Was it important?” asked Dick. “Julian seemed to think it was, when he answered the phone.”

“Yes—it was important,” said Aunt Fanny. “But not in the way you think. Don’t ask me anything now, Dick. And keep out of your uncle’s way. He’s rather cross this morning.”

“Then something must have gone wrong with this new work he’s doing,” thought Dick, and went to warn the others.

“It sounds rather exciting,” said Julian. “I wonder what’s up?”

They kept out of Uncle Quentin’s way. They heard him grumbling loudly to his wife about something, they heard him slam down his desk-lid as he always did when he was bad-tempered, and then he settled down to his morning’s work.

Anne came running to the others after a time, looking surprised. “George! I’ve just been into our room and what do you think! Aunt Fanny’s put a camp-bed over in the corner—a camp-bed made up with blankets and everything! It looks an awful squash with two other beds as well in the room—mine and yours!”

“Gosh—someone else is coming to stay then—a girl,” said Dick. “Or a woman. Aha! I expect it’s a governess engaged to look after you and Anne, George, to see that you behave like little ladies!”

“Don’t be an idiot,” said George, surprised and cross at the news. “I’m going to ask Mother what it’s all about. I won’t have anyone else in our room. I just will not!”

But just as she was marching off to tell her mother this, the study door downstairs opened and her father bellowed out into the hall, calling his wife.

“Fanny! Tell the children I want them. Tell them to come to my study AT ONCE!”

“Gracious—he does sound cross. Whatever can we have done?” said Anne, scared.