Читать книгу Five Have Plenty of Fun - Enid blyton - Страница 6

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George sat up in bed and stared at Berta. She looked very peculiar indeed. For one thing she was so bundled up in coats and wraps that it was difficult to see if she was fat or thin, tall or short, and for another thing she was crying so bitterly that her face was all screwed up.

Anne didn’t wake up. Timmy was so astonished that, like George, he simply sat and stared.

“Tell Timmy not to make a sound,” whispered George’s mother, afraid that the dog might bark the house down, once he began.

George laid a warning hand on Timmy. Her mother gave Berta a little push further into the room.

“She’s been terribly seasick, poor child,” she told George. “And she’s scared and upset. I want her to get into bed as soon as possible.”

Berta was still sobbing, but the sobs grew quieter as she began to feel less sick. George’s mother was so kind and sensible that she felt comforted.

“Let’s take these things off,” she said to Berta. “My word, you are bundled up! But if you came in an open motor-boat I expect you needed them.”

“What am I to call you?” asked Berta, with one last sniff.

“You’d better call me Aunt Fanny, as the others do, I think,” said George’s mother. “I expect you know why you’ve come to stay with us for a while, don’t you?”

“Yes,” said Berta. “I didn’t want to come. I wanted to stay with my father. I’m not afraid of being kidnapped. I’ve got Sally to look after me.”

“Who’s Sally, dear?” asked Aunt Fanny, taking a coat or two off Berta.

“My dog,” said Berta. “She’s downstairs in the basket I was carrying.”

George pricked up her ears at that bit of news! “A dog!” she said. “We can’t have a dog here. Mine would never allow that. Would you, Timmy?”

Timmy gave a small wuff. He was watching this night arrival with great interest. Who was she? He was longing to get down from George’s bed and go to sniff at her, but George had her hand on his collar.

“Well, I’ve brought my dog, and I just reckon she’ll have to stay now,” said Berta. “The boat’s gone back. Anyway I wouldn’t go anywhere without Sally. I told my father that, and he said all right then, take her with you! So I did.”

“Mother, tell her how fierce Timmy is and that he would fight any other dog who came here,” said George, urgently. “I won’t have anybody else’s dog at Kirrin Cottage.”

To George’s annoyance her mother took not the slightest notice. She went on helping Berta take off scarves and leggings and goodness knows what. George wondered how anyone could possibly exist in all those clothes on a warm summer’s night.

At last Berta stood in a simple jersey and skirt, a slim, pretty little girl with large blue eyes and wavy golden hair. She shook back her hair, and rubbed her face with a hanky.

“Thank you,” she said. “Can I get Sally my dog now?”

“Not tonight,” said Aunt Fanny. “You see, you are to sleep in that little camp-bed over in the corner—and I can’t let you have your dog here too, because he and Timmy might fight unless we introduce them to one another properly. And there is no time to bother about that tonight. Do you feel hungry now? Would you like some tomato soup and biscuits?”

“Yes, please. I do feel a bit hungry,” said Berta. “I’ve been so sick on that awful bumpy boat that I don’t expect there’s anything left inside me at all!”

“Well, look—you unpack your little night-case, and have a wash in the bathroom if you want to, and then get into your pyjamas,” said Aunt Fanny. “Then hop into bed and I’ll bring you up some soup.”

But one look at the scowling George made her change her mind. Better not leave poor Berta with an angry George on her very first night!

“I think perhaps I won’t get the soup myself,” she said. “George, you go and get it, will you? It’s warming up in the saucepan on the stove downstairs. You’ll see the little soup-cup on the table, and some biscuits too.”

George got out of bed, still looking very mutinous. She watched Berta shake out a night-dress from her night-case and pursed up her lips.

“She doesn’t even wear pjyamas!” she thought. “What a ninny! And she’s had the sauce to bring her own dog, too—spoilt little thing! I wonder where it is? I’ve a good mind to have a look at it when I’m downstairs.”

But her mother had an idea that George might do that and she went to the door after her. “George!” she said, warningly, “I don’t want you to open the dog’s basket downstairs. I’m not having any dog-fights tonight. I shall put him in Timmy’s kennel outside before I go to bed.”

George said nothing but went on downstairs. The soup was just about to boil and she whipped it off the stove at once. She poured it into the little soup-cup, placed it on the saucer, and put some biscuits on the side.

She heard a small whimpering sound, and turned round. It came from a fairly large basket over in the corner. George was terribly tempted to go and undo it—but she knew perfectly well that if the new dog ran upstairs to find its mistress, Timmy would bark and wake everybody up! It wasn’t worth risking.

She took up the soup. Berta was now in the camp bed and looked very cosy. Anne was still sleeping peacefully, quite undisturbed by all that was going on. Timmy had taken the opportunity of jumping off George’s bed and had gone to examine this newcomer. He sniffed her delicately, and Berta put out her hand and stroked his head.

“What lovely eyes he’s got,” she said. “But he’s a mongrel, isn’t he? A sort of mixture-dog.”

“Don’t you say anything like that to George,” said Aunt Fanny. “She adores Timmy. Now—do you feel better? I hope you’ll be happy with us, Berta dear—I am sure you didn’t want to come—but your father was so worried. And it will be nice for you to get to know Anne and Georgina before you go to their school next term.”

“Oh—was that Georgina—the one you called George?” said Berta in surprise. “I wasn’t really sure if she was a boy or not. My father told me there were three boys here and one girl—and that’s the girl, isn’t it—in bed there?”

She pointed to Anne. Aunt Fanny nodded. “Yes, that’s Anne. Your father thought George was a boy, that’s why he told you there were three boys and only one girl here, I suppose. The two boys are in the next room.”

“I don’t like George very much,” said Berta. “She doesn’t want me here, does she—or my dog.”

“Oh, you’ll find George great fun when you get to know her,” said Aunt Fanny. “Here she comes now with your soup.”

George came in with the soup, and was not at all pleased to see Timmy standing by the camp-bed, being petted by Berta. She set the soup down sharply, and pushed Timmy away.

“Thank you,” said Berta, and took the soup-cup eagerly into her hands. “What lovely soup!” she said. George got into bed and turned over on her side. She knew she was behaving badly, but the thought of someone daring to bring another dog to live at Kirrin Cottage was more than she could bear.

Timmy leapt up to lie on her feet as usual. Berta looked at this with much approval.

“I’ll have Sally on my feet tomorrow!” she said. “That’s an awfully good idea. Pops—that’s my father—always let me have Sally in my room, but she had to be in her basket, not on my bed. Tomorrow night she can sleep on my feet, like Timmy does on George’s.”

“She will not,” said George, in a fierce voice. “No dog sleeps in my bedroom except Timmy.”

“Now don’t talk any more,” said Aunt Fanny, hurriedly. “We can settle everything tomorrow when you’re not so tired. I’ll look after Sally tonight for you, I promise. Lie down now and go to sleep. You look as if you’re half asleep already!”

Berta was suddenly overcome with sleep and flopped down into bed. Her eyes closed, but she managed to force them open and look up at George’s mother.

“Good night, Aunt Fanny,” she said, sleepily. “That’s what I was to call you, wasn’t it? Thank you for being so kind to me.”

She was asleep almost before she had finished speaking. Aunt Fanny took up the soup-cup and went to the door. “Are you awake, George?” she said.

George lay absolutely still. She knew that her mother was not pleased with her. It would be better to pretend to be fast asleep!

“I am sure you are awake,” said her mother. “And I hope you are ashamed of yourself. I shall expect you to make up for this silly behaviour in the morning. It is a pity to behave in such a childish manner!”

She went out of the room, closing the door softly. George put out her hand to Timmy. She was ashamed of herself, but she wasn’t at all certain that she would behave better in the morning. That silly, soppy girl! Her dog would be as silly as herself, she was sure! And Timmy would simply hate having another dog in the house. He would probably growl and snarl to such a degree that Berta would be forced to send her dog away.

“And a good thing too,” murmured George, as Timmy licked her fingers lovingly. “You don’t want another girl in the house or another dog either, do you Timmy? Especially a girl like that!”

Aunt Fanny saw to Berta’s dog, and put her safely into Timmy’s kennel outside. It had a little door to it, which could be shut, so the dog was safe there, and would not be able to run out.

She went back into the house, cleared up Berta’s belongings a little, for they had been thrown higgledy-piggledy into the room, and then turned out the light.

She went upstairs to bed. Her husband had slept soundly all through Berta’s late arrival. He had been very sure that he would wake up and welcome the girl as well as his wife, but he hadn’t even stirred!

Aunt Fanny was glad. It was much easier for her to deal with a seasick, frightened girl by herself. She climbed thankfully into bed and lay down with a sigh.

“Oh dear—I don’t look forward to the morning! What will happen then, with George in this mood, and two dogs to sort out? Berta seems a nice little thing. Well—perhaps they will all get on better than I think!”

Yes—things wouldn’t be too easy in the morning. That was quite certain!