Читать книгу Five Have Plenty of Fun - Enid blyton - Страница 7

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George was the first to wake up in the morning. She at once remembered the events of the night before and looked across at Berta in the camp-bed. The girl was fast asleep, her wavy golden hair spread over the pillow. George leaned across to Anne’s bed and gave her a sharp nudge.

Anne woke up at once and gazed sleepily at George. “What’s the matter, George? Is it time to get up?”

“Look over there,” whispered George, nodding her head towards Berta. Anne turned over and looked. Unlike George she liked the look of Berta. Her sleeping face was pleasant and open, and her mouth turned up, not down. Anne couldn’t bear people whose mouths turned down.

“She looks all right,” whispered back Anne. George frowned.

“She howled like anything when she came,” she told Anne. “She’s a real baby. And she’s brought a dog!”

“Goodness—Timmy won’t like that,” said Anne, startled. “Where is it?”

“Down in Timmy’s kennel,” said George, still whispering. “I haven’t seen it. It was in a closed basket last night and I didn’t dare open it in case it tore upstairs and had a row with Tim. But it can’t be very big. I expect it’s a horrible Peke, or some silly little lap-dog.”

“Pekes aren’t horrible,” said Anne. “They may be small and have funny little pug-noses, but they’re awfully brave. Fancy having another dog! I can’t think what Timmy will say!”

“It’s a pity Berta isn’t our kind,” said George. “Look at her pale face—not a scrap of sun-tan! And she looks weedy, doesn’t she? I’m sure she couldn’t climb a tree, or row a boat, or ...”

“Sh! She’s waking up,” said Anne warningly.

Berta yawned and stretched herself. Then she opened her eyes and looked round. At first she had no idea where she was, and then she suddenly remembered. She sat up.

“Hallo!” said Anne, and smiled at her. “You weren’t here when I came to bed last night. I was surprised to see you this morning.”

Berta took an immediate liking to Anne. “She’s got kind eyes,” she thought. “She’s not like the other girl. I like this one!”

She smiled back at Anne. “Yes—I came in the middle of the night,” she said. “I came by motor-boat, and the sea was so bumpy that I was frightfully sick. My father didn’t come with me but a friend of his did, and he carried me from the boat to Kirrin Cottage. Even my legs felt seasick!”

“Bad luck!” said Anne. “You didn’t really enjoy the adventure then!”

“No. I can do without adventures!” said Berta. “I’m not keen on them. Especially when Pops gets all excited and worried about me—he fusses round me like a hen, dear old Pops. I shall hate being away from him.”

George was listening to all this. Not keen on adventures! Well, a girl like that wouldn’t be, of course!

“I’m not very keen on adventures either,” said Anne. “We’ve had plenty, goodness knows. I prefer adventures when they’re all over!”

George exploded. “Anne! How can you talk like that! We’ve had some smashing adventures, and we’ve enjoyed every one of them. If you feel like that we’ll leave you out of the next one.”

Anne laughed. “You won’t! An adventure comes up all of a sudden, like a wind blowing up in the sky, and we’re all in it, whether we like it or not. And you know that I like sharing things with you. I say—isn’t it time we got up?”

“Yes,” said George, looking at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Unless Berta wants to have her breakfast in bed? I bet she always does at home.”

“No, I don’t. I hate meals in bed,” said Berta. “I’m going to get up.”

She leapt out of bed and went to the window. Immediately she saw the wide sweep of the bay, sparkling in the morning sun, as blue as cornflowers. The sea-sparkle was reflected into the bedroom, and made it very bright indeed.

“Oh! I wondered why our room was so full of brilliant light,” said Berta. “Now I know! What a view! Oh, how lovely the sea looks this morning! And what’s that little island out there? What a lovely place it looks.”

“That’s Kirrin Island,” said George, proudly. “It belongs to me.”

Berta laughed, thinking that George was joking. “Belongs to you! I bet you wish it did. It’s really wunnerful!”

“Wunnerful!” said George, imitating her. “Can’t you say ‘wonderful?’ It’s got a D in the middle, you know.”

“Yes. I’m always being told things like that,” said Berta, still staring out of the window. “I had an English governess and she tried to make me speak like you do. I do try, because I’ve got to go to an English school. My, my—I wish that island belonged to me. I wonder if my Pops could buy it.”

George exploded again. “Buy it! You donkey, I told you it was mine, didn’t I?”

Berta turned round in surprise. “But—you didn’t mean it, did you?” she said. “Yours? But how could it be?”

“It is George’s,” said Anne. “It has always belonged to the Kirrin family. That’s Kirrin Island. George’s father gave it to her, after an adventure we once had.”

Berta stared at George in awe. “Great snakes! So it is yours! Aren’t you the lucky one! Will you take me to visit it?”

“I’ll see,” said George, gruffly, glad to have impressed this American girl so much. Getting her “Pops” to buy the island indeed! George snorted to herself. What next!

A shout came from the next room. It was Julian. “Hey, you girls! Are you getting up? We’re all too late for a bathe before breakfast this morning. Dick and I have only just woken up.”

“Berta’s here!” shouted back Anne. “We’ll get dressed, all of us, and then we’ll introduce Berta to you.”

“Are they your brothers?” asked Berta, pulling on her vest. “I haven’t got any. Or sisters either. I shall be pretty scared of them.”

“You won’t be scared of Julian and Dick,” said Anne, proudly. “You’ll wish you had brothers like them. Won’t she, George?”

“Yes,” said George, shortly. She was feeling rather annoyed just then because Timmy was standing by Berta, wagging his plumy tail. “Come here, Timmy. Don’t make a nuisance of yourself.”

“Oh, he’s not,” said Berta, and patted his big head. “I like him. He seems simply ENORMOUS after my Sally. But you’ll love Sally, George, you really will. Everyone says how sweet she is—and I’ve trained her beautifully.”

George took no interest in these remarks at all. She pulled on her shorts and went to wash in the bathroom. Julian and Dick were there, and there was a lot of yelling and shouting as George tried to make them hurry up and get out. Berta laughed.

“That sounds nice and family-like,” she said. “You don’t get that sort of thing if you’re an only child. What do I wear here?”

“Oh—something very simple,” said Anne, looking at the suit-case open on the floor, showing a collection of Berta’s clothes. “That cotton frock will do.”

They were ready just as the gong rang for breakfast. A delicious smell of frying bacon and tomatoes came up the stairs, and Berta sniffed in delight.

“I do like English breakfast,” she said. “We haven’t gotten around to a proper breakfast in America yet! That’s bacon and tomatoes I smell, isn’t it? My English governess always said that bacon and eggs made the best breakfast in the world, but I guess the one we’re going to have will taste pretty good.”

Uncle Quentin was at the table when the children came down. He looked most surprised to see Berta, having quite forgotten that she was coming. “Who’s this?” he said.

“Now Quentin—don’t pretend you don’t know!” said his wife. “It’s Elbur’s girl—your friend Elbur. She came in the middle of the night, but I didn’t wake you, you were so sound asleep.”

“Ah yes,” said Uncle Quentin, and he shook hands with the rather scared Berta. “Glad to have you here, er—let me see now—what’s your name?”

“Berta,” said everyone in a chorus.

“Yes, yes—Berta. Sit down, my dear. I know your father well. He’s doing some wonderful work.”

Berta beamed. “He’s always at work!” she said. “He works all through the night sometimes.”

“Does he? Well, what a thing to do!” said Uncle Quentin.

“It’s a thing you often do yourself, Quentin,” said his wife, pouring out coffee. “Though I don’t suppose you even realise it.”

Uncle Quentin looked surprised. “Do I really? Bless us all! Don’t I go to bed some nights then?”

Berta laughed. “You’re like my Pops! Sometimes he doesn’t know what day of the week it is, even! And yet he’s supposed to be one of the cleverest guys in the world!”

“Guy?” said Uncle Quentin, surprised, immediately thinking of Firework Night. Everyone laughed. Anne patted her uncle’s knee. “It’s all right, Uncle,” she said, “he’s not going to sit on the top of a bonfire!”

But Uncle Quentin was not listening. He had suddenly seen a letter marked “IMPORTANT” on the top of his pile of correspondence, and he picked it up.

“Well, unless I’m much mistaken, here’s a letter from your father,” he said to Berta. “I’ll see what he says.”

He opened the letter and read it to himself. Then he looked up. “It’s all about you—er—er ...”

“Her name’s Berta,” said Aunt Fanny, patiently.

“About you, Berta,” said Uncle Quentin. “But I must say your father has some very strange ideas. Yes, very strange.”

“What are they?” asked his wife.

“Well—he says she must be disguised—in case anyone comes to find her here,” said Uncle Quentin. “And he wants her name changed—and bless us all, he wants us to buy her boys’ clothes—and cut her hair short—and dress her up as a boy!”

Everyone listened in surprise. Berta gave a little squeal.

“I won’t! I WON’T be dressed up as a boy! I won’t have my hair cut off. Don’t you dare to make me! I WON’T!”