Читать книгу Five Have Plenty of Fun - Enid blyton - Страница 5

Table of Contents

The four children and Timmy trooped down the stairs together. George’s mother was in the hall, just going to call them.

“Oh, there you are,” she said. “Well, I suppose you heard that you’re wanted in the study. I’m coming too. And listen—please don’t make any more fuss than you can help. I’ve had quite enough fuss made by Quentin!”

This was very mysterious! What had Aunt Fanny to do with whatever trouble there was? Into the study went the five, Timmy too, and saw Uncle Quentin standing on the hearthrug looking as black as thunder.

“Quentin, I could have told the children,” began his wife, but he silenced her with a scowl exactly like the one George sometimes put on.

“I’ve got something to say to you,” he began. “You remember those two friends of mine—scientists working on a scheme with me—you remember the big American?”

“Yes,” said everyone.

“He gave us a whole pound,” said Anne.

Uncle Quentin took no notice of that remark. “Well,” he said, “he’s got a daughter—let’s see now—she’s got some silly name ...”

“Berta,” said his wife.

“Don’t interrupt me,” said Uncle Quentin. “Yes, Berta. Well, Elbur, her father, has been warned that she’s going to be kidnapped.”

“Whatever for?” said Julian, amazed.

“Because it so happens that her father knows more secrets about a new scheme we’re planning than anyone else in the world,” said his uncle. “And he says, quite frankly, that if this girl—what’s her name now ...”

“Berta,” said everyone, obligingly.

“That if his Berta is kidnapped, he will give away every single secret he knows to get her back,” said Uncle Quentin. “Pah! What’s he made of? Traitor to us all! How can he even think of giving away secrets for the sake of a silly girl?”

“Quentin, she’s his only child and he adores her,” said Aunt Fanny. “I should feel the same about George.”

“Women are always soft and silly,” said her husband, in a tone of great disgust. “It’s a good thing you don’t know any secrets—you’d give them away to the milkman!”

This was so ridiculous that the children laughed. Uncle Quentin glared at them.

“This is no laughing matter. It has been a great shock to me to be told by one of the leading scientists of the world that he feels certain he might give all our secrets to the enemy if this—this ...”

“Berta,” said everyone again, at once.

“If this Berta was kidnapped,” went on Uncle Quentin. “So he came to ask if we’d take this—this Berta into our own home for three weeks. By that time the scheme will be finished and launched, and our secrets will be safe.”

There was a silence. Nobody looked very pleased. In fact, George looked furious. She burst out at last.

“So that’s who the bed is for in our room! Mother, have we got to be squashed up with nowhere to move about the room, for three whole weeks? It’s too bad.”

“For once you and I agree, George,” said her father. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with it. Elbur is in such a state about this kidnapping warning that he couldn’t be reasoned with. In fact he threatened to tear up all his figures and diagrams and burn them, if I didn’t agree to this. That would mean we couldn’t get on with the scheme.”

“But why has she got to come here?” said George, fiercely. “Why put her on to us? Hasn’t she any relations or friends she can go to?”

“George, don’t be so fierce,” said her mother. “Apparently Berta has no mother, and has been everywhere with her father. They have no relations in this country—and no friends they can trust. He won’t send her back to America because he has been warned by the police that she might be followed there—and at the moment he can’t leave this country himself to go with her.”

“But why choose us?” said George again. “He doesn’t know a thing about us!”

“Well,” said her mother, with a small smile, “he met you all the other day, you know—and he was apparently very struck with you—and especially with you, George, though I can’t imagine why. He said he’d rather his Berta was with you four than with any other family in the world.”

She paused and looked at the four, a harassed expression on her face. Julian went over to her.

“Don’t you worry!” he said. “We’ll look after Berta! I won’t pretend I’m pleased at having a strange girl to join us this last three precious weeks—but I can see her father’s point of view—he’s scared for Berta, and he’s scared he might find himself spilling the beans if anything happened to her! It might be the only way he could get her back.”

“To think of such a thing!” burst out Uncle Quentin. “All the work of the last two years! The man must be mad!”

“Now Quentin, don’t think any more about it,” said his wife. “I’m glad to have the child here. I would hate George to be kidnapped, and I know exactly how he feels. You won’t even notice she’s here. One more will make no difference.”

“So you say,” grumbled her husband. “Anyway, it’s settled.”

“When is she coming?” asked Dick.

“Tonight. By boat,” said his uncle. “We’ll have to let Joan the cook into the secret—but nobody else. That’s understood, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” said the four, at once. Then Uncle Quentin sat down firmly at his desk, and the children went hurriedly out of the room, Aunt Fanny behind them, and Timmy pushing between their ankles.

“It’s such a pity, and I’m so sorry,” said Aunt Fanny. “But I do feel we can’t do anything else.”

“I bet Timmy will hate her,” said George.

“Now don’t you go and make things difficult, George, old thing,” said Julian. “We’re all agreed it can’t be helped, so we might as well make the best of it.”

“I hate making the best of things,” said George, obstinately.

“Well,” said Dick, amiably, “Julian and Anne and I could go back home and take Berta with us if you hate everything so much. I don’t particularly want to stay here for three weeks if you’re going to put on a Hate all the time.”

“All right, I won’t,” said George. “I’m only letting off steam. You know that.”

“I’m never sure, with you,” said Dick, with a grin. “Well, look—let’s not spoil this one day when we will be by ourselves!”

They all tried valiantly to have as good a time as possible, and went out in George’s boat for a long row to Lobster Cove. They didn’t do any fishing there, but bathed from the boat instead, in water as green and clear as in an open-air bath. Timmy didn’t approve of bathing from boats. It was quite easy to jump out of the boat into the water—but he found it extremely difficult to jump in again!

Aunt Fanny had again packed them a wonderful lunch. “An extra good one to make up for a disappointment,” she said, smiling. Anne had given her a hug for that. Here they had all been making such a fuss about having someone extra—and Aunt Fanny had been the only one to feel a real kindness for a child in danger.

They had enough food for tea too, and did not get home until the evening. The sea was calm and blue, and the children could see almost to the bottom of the water, when they leaned over the side of the boat. The sky was the colour of harebells as they rowed into the bay and up to the beach.

“Will Berta be there yet, do you suppose?” said George, mentioning the girl for the first time since they had set out that morning.

“I shouldn’t think so,” said Julian. “Your father said she would be coming tonight—and I imagine that as she’s coming by boat, it will be dark—so that she won’t be seen.”

“I expect she’ll be feeling very scared,” said Anne. “It must be horrid to be sent away to a strange place, to strange people. I should hate it!”

They beached the boat and left it high and dry. Then they made their way to Kirrin Cottage. Aunt Fanny was pleased to see them.

“You are in nice time for supper,” she said. “Though if you ate all I gave you today for your picnics, you’ll surely find it difficult to eat very much supper.”

“Oh, I’m terribly hungry,” said Dick. He sniffed, holding his nose up in the air just as Timmy often did. “I believe you’ve been making your special tomato soup, with real tomatoes, Aunt Fanny!”

“You’re too good at guessing,” said his aunt with a laugh. “It was meant to be a surprise! Now go and wash and make yourselves tidy.”

“Berta hasn’t come yet, I suppose, has she?” asked Julian.

“No,” said his aunt. “And we’ll have to think of another name for her, Julian. It would never do to call her Berta now.”

Uncle Quentin didn’t appear for supper. “He is having his in the study by himself,” said Aunt Fanny.

There was a sigh of relief. Nobody had looked forward to seeing Uncle Quentin that night. It took him quite a long time to get over any annoyance!

“How sunburnt you all are!” said Aunt Fanny, looking round the table. “George, your nose is beginning to peel.”

“I know,” said George. “I wish it didn’t. Anne’s never does. Gosh, I’m sleepy!”

“Well, go to bed as soon as you’ve finished your supper,” said her mother.

“I’d like to. But what about this Berta?” said George. “What time is she coming? It would be rather mean to be in bed when she arrives.”

“I’ve no idea what time she will come,” said her mother. “But I shall wait up, of course. There’s no need for anyone else to. I expect she’ll be tired and scared, so I shall give her something to eat—some of the tomato soup, if you’ve left any!—and then pop her into bed. I expect she would be quite glad not to have to meet any of you tonight.”

“Well—I shall go to bed,” said Dick. “I heard Elbur arriving last night, Aunt Fanny, and it was pretty late, wasn’t it? I can hardly keep my eyes open tonight.”

“Come on, then—let’s all go up,” said Julian. “We can read if we can’t sleep. Good night, Aunt Fanny. Thank you for a lovely picnic basket again!”

All the four went upstairs, Anne and Dick yawning loudly, and setting the others off too. Timmy padded behind them, quite glad that George was going to bed so early.

They were all asleep in ten minutes. The boys slept like logs and didn’t stir at all. The girls fell fast asleep for about four hours—and then George was awakened by hearing Timmy growl. She sat up at once.

“What is it?” she said. “Oh—is it Berta arriving, Tim? Let’s keep quiet and see what she’s like!”

After a minute Timmy growled again. George heard the sound of quiet footsteps on the stairs. Then the bedroom door was slid softly open, and two people stood in the light of the landing lamp. One was Aunt Fanny.

The other, of course, was Berta.