Читать книгу Five Run Away Together - Enid blyton - Страница 4

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It was lovely to wake up the next morning at Kirrin Cottage and see the sun shining in at the windows, and to hear the far-off plash-plash-plash of the sea. It was gorgeous to leap out of bed and rush to see how blue the sea was, and how lovely Kirrin Island looked at the entrance of the bay.

‘I’m going for a bathe before breakfast,’ said Julian, and snatched up his bathing trunks. ‘Coming, Dick?’

‘You bet!’ said Dick. ‘Call the girls. We’ll all go.’

So down they went, the four of them, with Tim galloping behind them, his tail wagging nineteen to the dozen, and his long pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. He went into the water with the others, and swam all round them. They were all good swimmers, but Julian and George were the best.

They put towels round themselves, rubbed their bodies dry and pulled on jeans and jerseys. Then back to breakfast they went, as hungry as hunters. Anne noticed a boy in the back garden and stared in surprise.

‘Who’s that?’ she said.

‘Oh, that’s Edgar, Mrs Stick’s boy,’ said George. ‘I don’t like him. He does silly things, like putting out his tongue and calling rude names.’

Edgar appeared to be singing when the others went in at the gate. Anne stopped to listen.

‘Georgie-Porgie, pudding and pie!’ sang Edgar, a silly look on his face. He seemed about thirteen or fourteen, a stupid, yet sly-looking youth. ‘Georgie-porgie pudding and pie!’

George went red. ‘He’s always singing that,’ she said, furiously. ‘Just because I’m called “George”, I suppose. He thinks he’s clever. I can’t bear him.’

Julian called out to Edgar. ‘You shut up! You’re not funny, only jolly silly!’

‘Georgie-porgie,’ began Edgar again, a silly smile on his wide red face. Julian made a step towards him, and he at once disappeared into the house.

‘Shan’t stand much of him,’ said Julian, in a decided voice. ‘I wonder you do, George. I wonder you haven’t slapped his face, stamped on his foot, bitten his ears off and done a few other things! You used to be so fierce.’

‘Well—I am still, really,’ said George. ‘I feel frightfully fierce down inside me when I hear Edgar singing silly songs at me like that and calling out names—but you see, Mother really hasn’t been well, and I know jolly well if I go for Edgar, Mrs Stick will leave, and poor old Mother would have to do all the work, and she really isn’t fit to at present. So I just hold myself in, and hope that Timmy will do the same.’

‘Good for you, old thing!’ said Julian, admiringly, for he knew how hard it was for George to keep her temper at times.

‘I think I’ll just go up to Mother’s room and see if she’d like breakfast in bed,’ said George.

‘Hang on to old Timmy a moment, will you? If Edgar appears again, he might go for him.’

Julian hung on to Timmy’s collar. Timmy had growled when Edgar had been in the garden, now he stood stock still, his nose twitching as if he were trying to trace some smell.

Suddenly a mangy-looking dog appeared out of the kitchen door. It had a dirty white coat, out of which patches seemed to have been bitten, and its tail was well between its legs.

‘Wooooof!’ said Timmy, joyfully, and leapt at the dog. He pulled Julian over, for he was a big dog, and the boy let go his hold of the dog’s collar. Timmy pounced excitedly on the other dog, who gave a fearful whine and tried to go into the kitchen door again.

‘Timmy! Come here, sir!’ yelled Julian. But Timmy didn’t hear. He was busy trying to snap off the other dog’s ears—or at least, that is what he appeared to be doing. The other dog yelled for help, and Mrs Stick appeared at the kitchen door, a saucepan in her hand.

‘Call off that dog!’ she screeched. She hit out at Timmy with the saucepan, but he dodged and it hit her own dog instead, making it yelp all the more.

‘Don’t hit out with that!’ said Julian. ‘You’ll hurt the dogs. Hi, Timmy, Timmy!’

Edgar now appeared, looking very scared. He picked up a stone and seemed to be watching his chance to hurl it at Timmy. Anne shrieked.

‘You’re not to throw that stone; you’re not to! You bad wicked boy!’

In the middle of all this turmoil Uncle Quentin appeared, looking angry and irritable.

‘Good heavens! What is all this going on? I never heard such a row in my life.’

Then George appeared, flying out of the door like the wind, to rescue her beloved Timothy. She rushed to the two dogs and tried to pull Timmy away. Her father yelled at her.

‘Come away, you little idiot! Don’t you know better than to separate two fighting dogs with your bare hands? Where’s the garden hose?’

It was fixed to a tap nearby. Julian ran to it and turned on the tap. He picked up the hose and turned it on the two dogs. At once the jet of water spurted out at them, and they leapt apart in surprise. Julian saw Edgar standing near, and couldn’t resist swinging the hose a little so that the boy was soaked. He gave a scream and ran in at once.

‘What did you do that for?’ said Uncle Quentin, annoyed. ‘George, tie Timothy up at once. Mrs Stick didn’t I tell you not to let your dog out of the kitchen unless you had him on a lead? I won’t have this kind of thing happening. Where’s the breakfast? Late as usual!’

Mrs Stick disappeared into the kitchen, muttering and grumbling, taking her drenched dog with her. George, looking sulky, tied Timothy up. He lay down in his kennel, looking beseechingly at his mistress.

‘I’ve told you not to take any notice of that mangy-looking dog,’ said George, severely. ‘Now you see what happens! You put Father into a bad temper for the rest of the day, and Mrs Stick will be so angry she won’t make any cakes for tea!’

Timmy gave a whine, and put his head down on his paws. He licked a few hairs from the corner of his mouth. It was sad to be tied up—but anyhow he had bitten a bit off the tip of one of that dreadful dog’s ears!

They all went in to breakfast. ‘Sorry I let Timmy go,’ said Julian to George. ‘But he nearly tore my arm off. I couldn’t possibly hold him! He’s grown into an awfully powerful dog, hasn’t he?’

‘Yes,’ said George, proudly. ‘He has. He could eat Mrs Stick’s dog up in a mouthful if we’d let him. And Edgar too.’

‘And Mrs Stick,’ said Anne. ‘All of them. I don’t like any of them.’

Breakfast was rather a subdued meal, as Aunt Fanny was not there, but Uncle Quentin was—and Uncle Quentin in a bad temper was not a very cheerful person to have at the breakfast-table. He snapped at George and glared at the others. Anne almost wished they hadn’t come to Kirrin Cottage! But her spirits rose when she thought of the rest of the day—they would take their dinner out, perhaps, and have it on the beach—or maybe even go out to Kirrin Island. Uncle Quentin wouldn’t be with them to spoil things.

Mrs Stick appeared to take away the porridge plates and bring in the bacon. She banged the plates down on the table.

‘No need to do that,’ said Uncle Quentin, irritably. Mrs Stick said nothing. She was scared of Uncle Quentin, and no wonder! She put the next lot of plates down quietly.

‘What are you going to do today?’ asked Uncle Quentin, towards the end of breakfast. He was feeling a little better by that time, and didn’t like to see such subdued faces round him.

‘We thought we might go out for a picnic,’ said George, eagerly. ‘I asked Mother. She said we might, if Mrs Stick will make us sandwiches.’

‘Well, I shouldn’t think she’ll try very hard,’ said Uncle Quentin, trying to make a little joke. They all smiled politely. ‘But you can ask her.’

There was a silence. Nobody liked the idea of asking Mrs Stick for sandwiches.

‘I do wish she hadn’t brought Stinker,’ said George, gloomily. ‘Everything would be easier if he wasn’t here.’

‘Is that the name of her son?’ asked Uncle Quentin, startled.

George grinned. ‘Oh no. Though it wouldn’t be a bad name for him, because he hardly ever has a bath, and he’s jolly smelly. It’s her dog I mean. She calls him Tinker, but I call him Stinker, because he really does smell awful.’

‘I don’t think it’s a very nice name,’ said her father, in the midst of the others’ giggles.

‘No, it isn’t,’ said George; ‘but then, he isn’t a very nice dog.’

In the end it was Aunt Fanny who saw Mrs Stick and arranged about the sandwiches. Mrs Stick went up to see Aunt Fanny, who was having breakfast in bed, and agreed to make sandwiches, though with a very bad grace.

‘I didn’t bargain for three more children to come traipsing along,’ she said, sulkily.

I told you they were coming, Mrs Stick,’ said Aunt Fanny, patiently. ‘I didn’t know I should be feeling so ill myself when they came. If I had been well I could have made their sandwiches and done many more things. I can only ask you to help as much as you can till I feel better. I may be all right tomorrow. Let the children have a good time for a week or so, and then, if I still feel ill, I am sure they will all turn to and help a bit. But let them have a good time first.’

The children took their packets of sandwiches and set off. On the way they met Edgar, looking as stupid and sly as usual. ‘Why don’t you let me come along with you?’ he said. ‘Let’s go to that island. I know a lot about it, I do.’

‘No, you don’t,’ said George, in a flash. ‘You don’t know anything about it. And I’d never take you. It’s my island, see? Well, ours. It belongs to all four of us and Timmy, too. We should never allow you to go.’

‘ ’Tisn’t your island,’ said Edgar. ‘That’s a lie, that is!’

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said George, scornfully. ‘Come on, you others! We can’t waste time talking to Edgar.’

They left him, looking sulky and angry. As soon as they were at a safe distance he lifted up his voice:

‘Georgie-porgie, pudding and pie,

She knows how to tell a lie,

Georgie-porgie, pudding and pie!’

Julian made as if he would go back after the rude Edgar, but George pulled him on. ‘He’ll only go and tell tales to his mother, and she’ll walk out and there’ll be no one to help Mother,’ she said. ‘I’ll just have to put up with it. We’ll try and think of some way to get our own back, though. Nasty creature! I hate his pimply nose and screwed-up eyes.’

‘Woof!’ said Timmy, feelingly.

‘Timmy says he hates Stinker’s miserable tail and silly little ears,’ explained George, and they all laughed. That made them feel better. They were soon out of hearing of Edgar’s silly song, and forgot all about him.

‘Let’s go and see if your boat is ready,’ said Julian. ‘Then maybe we could row out to the dear old island.’