Читать книгу Five Have a Mystery to Solve - Enid blyton - Страница 5

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George and Timmy were waiting for Julian, Dick and Anne, when they arrived home. Timmy was standing in the road, ears pricked, long tail waving. He went quite mad when he saw their bicycles rounding the corner, and galloped towards them at top speed, barking madly, much to the horror of a baker’s boy with a large basket.

The boy disappeared into the nearest garden at top speed, yelling ‘Mad dog, mad dog!’ Timmy tore past, and forced the three to dismount, for they were afraid of knocking him over.

‘Dear Timmy!’ said Anne, patting the excited dog. ‘Do put your tongue in—I’m sure it will fall out some day!’

Timmy ran to each of them in turn, woofing in delight, licking everyone, and altogether behaving as if he hadn’t seen them for a year!

‘Now that’s enough, old boy,’ said Dick, pushing him away, and trying to mount his bicycle once more. ‘After all, we did see you yesterday. Where’s George?’

George had heard Timmy barking, and had now run out into the road too. The three cycled up to her, and she grinned happily at them.

‘Hallo! You’ve been shopping, I see. Shut up barking, Timmy, you talk too much. Sorry you couldn’t come over to Kirrin Cottage—but I’m jolly glad you asked me to come to you—my father still hasn’t found the papers he’s lost, and honestly our place is like a mad-house—cupboards being turned out—even the kitchen store-cupboard! and I left poor Mother up in the loft, looking there—though why Father should think they might be there, I don’t know!’

‘Poor old George—I can just see your father tearing his hair, and shouting—and all the time he’s probably put the papers into the waste-paper basket by mistake!’ said Dick, with a chuckle.

‘Gracious—we never thought of that!’ said George. ‘I’d better phone Mother at once, and tell her to look. Bright idea of yours, Dick.’

‘Well, you go and phone, and we’ll put our bikes away,’ said Julian. ‘Take your nose away from that bag of sausages, Timmy. You’re in disgrace over sausages, let me tell you. You’re suspected of eating too many last night!’

‘He did eat rather a lot,’ said George. ‘I took my eye off him, and he wolfed quite a few. I say, who’s this Mrs Layman who’s coming to tea? Have we got to stay in and have tea with her? I hoped we might be going off for a picnic this afternoon.’

‘Nothing doing, old thing,’ said Dick, ‘Mrs Layman is apparently coming to talk to us about something. So we have to be in—with clean hands, nice manners, and everything. So behave yourself, George!’

George gave him a friendly punch. ‘That’s unfair,’ said Dick. ‘You know I can’t punch you back. My word, you should have seen Anne this morning, George—yelled at me like a tiger howling, and showed her teeth, and ...’

‘Don’t be an idiot, Dick,’ said Anne. ‘He called me a mouse, George—he said we’d one tiger—you—and that was enough in the family. So I went for him—put out my claws for a moment, and gave him such a surprise. I rather liked it!’

‘Good old Anne!’ said George, amused. ‘But you’re not really cut out to be a tiger, and rage and roar, you know.’

‘I could be, if I had to,’ said Anne, obstinately. ‘One of these days I’ll surprise you all. You just wait!’

‘All right. We will,’ said Julian, putting his arm round his sister. ‘Come on, now—we’d better get indoors before Timmy gets some of the cakes out of the bags. Stop licking that bag, Tim—you’ll make a hole in it.’

‘He can smell the cherry buns inside,’ said Anne. ‘Shall I give him one?’

‘no!’ said Julian. ‘Cherry buns are wasted on him, you know that. Don’t you remember how he chews the bun part and spits out the cherries?’

‘Woof,’ said Timmy, exactly as if he agreed. He went to sniff at the bag with his bone inside.

‘That’s your dinner, Tim,’ said Anne. ‘Plenty of meat on it, too. Look there’s Mother at the window, beckoning. I expect she wants the sausages, no, Timmy—the sausages are not for you. Get down! Good gracious, I never in my life knew such a hungry dog. Anybody would think you starved him, George.’

‘Well, they’d think wrong, then,’ said George. ‘Timmy, come to heel.’

Timmy came, still looking round longingly at the various bags that the others were now taking from their saddle-bags.

They all went indoors, and deposited the goods on the kitchen table. The cook opened the bags and looked inside, keeping a sharp eye on Timmy.

‘Better take that dog of yours out of my kitchen,’ she said. ‘Funny how sausages always disappear when he’s around. Get down, now—take your paws off my clean table!’

Timmy trotted out of the kitchen. He thought it was a pity that cooks didn’t like him. He liked them very much indeed—they always smelt so deliciously of cooking, and there were always so many titbits around which he longed for, but was seldom offered. Ah well—he’d trot into the kitchen again when Cookie had gone upstairs for something! He might perhaps find a few bits and pieces on the floor then!

‘Hallo, Georgina dear!’ said her aunt, coming into the kitchen, Timmy following her in delight. ‘Timmy, go out of the kitchen. I don’t trust you within a mile of sausages. Go on—shoo!’

Timmy ‘shooed’. He liked Anne’s mother, but knew that when she said ‘Shoo!’ she meant it. He lay down on a rug in the living-room, with a heavy sigh, wondering how long it would be before he had that lovely meaty bone. He put his head on his paws, and kept his ears pricked for George. He thought it most unfair that George shouldn’t be shooed out of the kitchen too.

‘Now for goodness sake, keep out of my way while I cook the lunch,’ said Cook, to the children milling round her kitchen. ‘And shut the door, please. I don’t want that great hungry dog sniffing round me all the time, making out he’s starving, when he’s as fat as butter!’

‘He’s not!’ said George, indignantly. ‘Timmy has never been fat in his life. He’s not that kind of dog. He’s never greedy!’

‘Well, he must be the first dog ever born that wasn’t greedy,’ said Cookie. ‘Can’t trust any of them! There was that pug-dog of Mrs Lane’s—crunched up lumps of sugar whenever it could reach a sugar-bowl—and that fat poodle next door—came and knocked over the cream that the milkman left outside the back door—deliberately knocked it over, mark you—and then licked up every drop. Ha—his mistress tried to make out he didn’t like cream—but you should have seen his nose—covered in cream up to his eyes!’

Timmy looked in at the kitchen door, his nose in the air, for all the world as if he were deeply offended at Cookie’s remarks. Julian laughed. ‘You’ve wounded his pride, Cookie!’ he said.

‘I’ll wound him somewhere else, too, if he comes sniffing round me when I’m cooking,’ said Cookie. That made George give one of her scowls, but the others couldn’t help laughing!

The morning went very pleasantly. The five went down to the beach, and walked round the high cliffs, enjoying the stiff breeze that blew in their faces. Timmy raced after every seagull that dared to sit on the smooth sand, annoyed that each one rose up lazily on great wings, as soon as he almost reached it.

They were all hungry for their dinner, and not one single morsel was left when they had finished! Cookie had made a tremendous steamed pudding, with lashings of treacle, which was, as usual, a huge success.

‘Wish I had a tongue like Timmy’s and could lick up the lovely treacle left on the bottom of the dish,’ said George. ‘Such a waste!’

‘You certainly won’t be able to eat any tea, I’m sure of that!’ said her aunt. But, of course, she was wrong. When teatime came, they all felt quite ready for it, and were most impatient when Mrs Layman was late!

The tea looked lovely, laid on a big table, over a white lace cloth. The children sat and looked at it longingly. When would Mrs Layman arrive?

‘I begin to feel I’m not going to like Mrs Layman,’ said George, at last. ‘I can’t bear looking at those cream cakes when I’m hungry.’

The front door bell rang. Hurrah! Then in came a cheerful, smiling old lady, nodding to everyone, very pleased to see such a nice little party waiting for her.

‘This is Mrs Layman, children,’ said Julian’s mother. ‘Sit down, Mrs Layman. We’re delighted to have you.’

‘Well, I’ve come to ask the children something,’ said Mrs Layman. ‘But we’ll have tea first, and then I’ll say what I’ve come to say. My, my—what a wonderful tea! I’m glad I feel hungry!’

Everyone else was hungry too, and soon the bread and butter, the sandwiches, the buns, the cakes and everything else disappeared. Timmy sat quietly by George, who slipped him a titbit now and again, when no one was looking. Mrs Layman chatted away. She was a most interesting person, and the children liked her very much.

‘Well now,’ she said, when tea was finished, ‘I’m sure you must be wanting to know why I asked to come to tea today. I wanted to ask your mother, Julian, if there was any chance of you three—and this other boy here—what’s his name—George? would you like to help me out of a difficulty.’

Nobody pointed out that George was a girl, not a boy, and that George was short for Georgina. George, as usual, was pleased to be taken for a boy. They all looked at Mrs Layman, listening to her with interest.

‘It’s like this,’ she said. ‘I’ve a dear little house up on the hills, overlooking the harbour—and I’ve a grandson staying with me there—Wilfrid. Well, I have to go to look after a cousin of mine, who’s ill—and Wilfrid can’t bear to be left alone. I just wondered if your mother would allow you children to share the little house with Wilfrid—and well—keep him company. He feels a bit scary being on his own. I’ve a good woman there, who comes in to cook and clean—but poor Wilfrid’s really scared of being in such a lonely place, high up on the hill.’

‘You mean that lovely little house with the wonderful view?’ said Julian’s mother.

‘Yes. It’s rather primitive in some ways—no water laid on, only just a well to use—and no electricity or gas—just candles, or an oil lamp. Maybe it sounds too old-fashioned for words—but honestly the view makes up for it! Perhaps the children would like to come over and see it, before they decide?’ Mrs Layman looked earnestly round at everyone, and nobody knew quite what to say.

‘Well—we’ll certainly come and see it,’ said Julian’s mother. ‘And if the children feel like it, well, they can stay there. They do like being on their own, of course.’

‘Yes,’ said Julian. ‘We’ll come and see it, Mrs Layman. Mother’s going to be busy with a bazaar soon—she’ll be glad to get us out of the way—and, of course, we do like being on our own!’

Mrs Layman looked extremely pleased. ‘Tomorrow, then?’ she said. ‘About ten o’clock. You’ll love the view. Wonderful, wonderful! You can see right over the great harbour, and for miles around. Well—I must be going now. I’ll tell Wilfrid you children may be keeping him company. He’s such a nice lad—so helpful. You’ll love him.’

Julian had his doubts about the nice helpful Wilfrid. He even wondered if Mrs Layman wanted to get away from Wilfrid, and leave him to himself! No—that was too silly. Anyway, they’d soon see what the place was like, tomorrow.

‘It would be fun to be on our own again,’ said George, when Mrs Layman had gone. ‘I don’t expect this Wilfrid would be any bother. He’s probably just a silly kid, scared of being left alone—though apparently there is a woman there! Well—we’ll go tomorrow! Maybe the view will make up for dear Wilfrid!’