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Chapter One
THE FIVE ARE ALL TOGETHER AGAIN

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‘Phew!’ said Julian, mopping his wet forehead. ‘What a day! Let’s go and live at the Equator—it would be cool compared to this!’

He stood leaning on his bicycle, out of breath with a long steep ride up a hill. Dick grinned at him. ‘You’re out of training, Ju!’ he said. ‘Let’s sit down for a bit and look at the view. We’re pretty high up!’

They leaned their bicycles against a nearby gate and sat down, their backs against the lower bars. Below them spread the Dorset countryside, shimmering in the heat of the day, the distance almost lost in a blue haze. A small breeze came wandering round, and Julian sighed in relief.

‘I’d never have come on this biking trip if I’d guessed it was going to be as hot as this!’ he said. ‘Good thing Anne didn’t come—she’d have given up the first day.’

‘George wouldn’t have minded,’ said Dick. ‘She’s game enough for anything.’

‘Good old Georgina,’ said Julian, shutting his eyes. ‘I’ll be glad to see the girls again. Fun to be on our own, of course—but things always seem to happen when the four of us are together.’

‘Five, you mean,’ said Dick, tipping his hat over his eyes. ‘Don’t forget old Timmy. What a dog! Never knew one that had such a wet lick as Tim. I say—won’t it be fun to meet them all! Don’t let’s forget the time, Julian. Hey, wake up, ass! If we go to sleep now, we’ll not be in time to meet the girls’ bus.’

Julian was almost asleep. Dick looked at him and laughed. Then he looked at his watch, and did a little calculating. It was half past two.

‘Let’s see now—Anne and George will be on the bus that stops at Finniston Church at five past three,’ he thought. ‘Finniston is about a mile away, down this hill. I’ll give old Julian fifteen minutes to have a nap—and hope to goodness I don’t fall asleep myself!’

He felt his own eyes closing after a minute, and got up at once to walk about. The two girls and Tim must be met, because they would have suitcases with them, which the boys planned to wheel along on their bicycles.

The Five were going to stay at a place called Finniston Farm, set on a hill above the little village of Finniston. None of them had been there before, nor even heard of it. It had all come about because George’s mother had heard from an old school friend, who had told her that she was taking paying guests at her farm-house—and had asked her to recommend visitors to her. George had promptly said she would like to go there with her cousins in the summer holidays.

‘Hope it’s a decent place!’ thought Dick, gazing down into the valley, where corn-fields waved in the little breeze. ‘Anyway, we shall only be there for two weeks—and it will be fun to be together again.’

He looked at his watch. Time to go! He gave Julian a push. ‘Hey—wake up!’

‘ ’Nother ten minutes,’ muttered Julian, trying to turn over, as if he were in bed. He rolled against the gate-bars and fell on to the hard dry earth below. He sat up in surprise. ‘Gosh—I thought I was in bed!’ he said. ‘My word, I could have gone on sleeping for hours.’

‘Well, it’s time to go and meet that bus,’ said Dick. ‘I’ve had to walk about all the time you were asleep, I was so afraid I’d go off myself. Come on Julian—we really must go!’

They rode down the hill, going cautiously round the sharp corners, remembering how many times they had met herds of cows, wide farm-carts, tractors and the like, on their way through this great farming county. Ah—there was the village, at the bottom of the hill. It looked old and peaceful and half-asleep.

‘Thank goodness it sells ginger-beer and ice-creams!’ said Dick, seeing a small shop with a big sign in the window. ‘I feel as if I want to hang out my tongue, like Timmy does, I’m so thirsty!’

‘Let’s find the church and the bus-stop,’ said Julian. ‘I saw a spire as we rode down the hill, but it disappeared when we got near the bottom.’

‘There’s the bus!’ said Dick, as he heard the noise of wheels rumbling along in the distance. ‘Look, here it comes. We’ll follow it.’

‘There’s Anne in it—and George, look!’ shouted Julian. ‘We’re here exactly on time! Whoo-hoo, George!’

The bus came to a stop by the old church, and out jumped Anne and George, each with a suitcase—and out leapt old Timmy too, his tongue hanging down, very glad to be out of the hot, jerky, smelly bus.

‘There are the boys!’ shouted George, and waved wildly as the bus went off again. ‘Julian! Dick! I’m so glad you’re here to meet us!’

The two boys rode up, and jumped off their bikes, while Timmy leapt round them, barking madly. They thumped the girls on their backs, and grinned at them. ‘Just the same old couple!’ said Dick. ‘You’ve got a spot on your chin, George, and why on earth have you tied your hair into a pony-tail, Anne?’

‘You’re not very polite, Dick,’ said George, bumping him with her suitcase. ‘I can’t think why Anne and I looked forward so much to seeing you again. Here, take my suitcase—haven’t you any manners?’

‘Plenty,’ said Dick, and grabbed the case. ‘I just can’t get over Anne’s new hair-do. I don’t like it, Anne—do you, Ju? Pony-tail! A donkey-tail would suit you better Anne!’

‘It’s all right—it’s just because the back of my neck was so hot,’ said Anne, shaking her hair free in a hurry. She hated her brothers to find fault with her. Julian gave her arm a squeeze.

‘Nice to see you both,’ he said. ‘What about some ginger-beer and ice-cream? There’s a shop over there that sells them. And I’ve a sudden longing for nice juicy plums!’

‘You haven’t said a word to Timmy yet,’ said George, half offended. ‘He’s been trotting round you and licking your hands—and he’s so dreadfully hot and thirsty!’

‘Shake paws, Tim,’ said Dick, and Timmy politely put up his right paw. He shook hands with Julian too and then promptly went mad, careering about and almost knocking over a small boy on a bicycle.

‘Come on, Tim—want a ice-cream?’ said Dick, laying his hand on the big dog’s head. ‘Hark at him panting, George—I bet he wishes he could unzip his hairy coat and take it off! Don’t you Tim?’

‘Woof!’ said Tim, and slapped his tail against Dick’s legs.

They all trooped into the ice-cream shop. It was half dairy, half baker’s. A small girl of about ten came to serve them.

‘Mum’s lying down,’ she said. ‘What can I get you? Ice-creams, I suppose? That’s what everyone wants today.’

‘You supposed right,’ said Julian. ‘A large one each, please—five in all—and four bottles of ginger pop as well.’

‘Five ice-creams—do you want one for that dog, then?’ said the girl in surprise, looking at Timmy.

‘Woof,’ he said at once.

‘There you are,’ said Dick, ‘he said yes!’

Soon the Five were eating their cold ice-creams, Timmy licking his from a saucer. Before he had had many licks, the ice-cream slid from the saucer, and Timmy chased it all the way round the shop, as it slid away from his vigorous licks. The little girl watched him, fascinated.

‘I must apologize for his manners,’ said Julian, solemnly. ‘He hasn’t been very well brought up.’ He at once had a glare from George, and grinned. He opened his bottle of ginger-beer. ‘Nice and cold,’ he said. ‘Here’s a happy fortnight to us all!’ He drank half the glass at top speed, and set it down with a great sigh.

‘Well, blessings on the person who invented ice-cream, ginger-pop and the rest!’ he said. ‘I’d rather invent things like that any day than rockets and bombs. Ha—I feel better now. What about you others? Do you feel like going to find the farm?’

‘Whose farm?’ asked the little girl, coming out from behind the counter to pick up Timmy’s saucer. Timmy gave her a large, wet and loving lick as she bent down.

‘Ooooh!’ she said, pushing him away. ‘He licked all down my face!’

‘Probably thought you were an ice-cream,’ said Dick, giving her his hanky to wipe her cheek. ‘The farm we want is called Finniston Farm. Do you know it?’

‘Oh yes,’ said the little girl. ‘You go down the village street, right to the end, and turn up the lane there—up to the right. The farmhouse is at the top of the lane. Are you staying with the Philpots?’

‘Yes. Do you know them?’ asked Julian, getting out some money to pay the bill.

‘I know the twins there,’ said the girl. ‘The two Harries. At least, I don’t know them well—nobody does. They’re just wrapped up in each other, they never make any friends. You look out for their old Great-Grandad—he’s a one he is! He once fought a mad bull and knocked it out! And his voice—you can hear it for miles! I was real scared of going near the farm when I was little. But Mrs Philpot, she’s nice. You’ll like her. The twins are very good to her—and to their Dad, too—work like farm-hands all the holidays. You won’t know t’other from which, they’re so alike!’

‘Why did you call them the two Harries?’ asked Anne, curiously.

‘Oh, because they’ve both ...’ began the child, and then broke off as a plump woman came bustling into the shop.

‘Janie—you go and see to the baby for me—I’ll see to the shop now. Run along!’

Away went the small girl, scuttling through the door.

‘Little gasbag she is!’ said her mother. ‘Anything more you want?’

‘No thanks,’ said Julian, getting up. ‘We must go. We’re to stay at Finniston Farm, so we may be seeing you again soon. We liked the ice-creams!’

‘Oh—so you’re going there, are you?’ said the plump woman. ‘I wonder how you’ll get on with the Harries! And keep out of Grandad’s way—he’s over eighty, but he can still give a mighty good thumping to anyone who crosses him!’

The Five went out into the hot sun again. Julian grinned round at the others. ‘Well—shall we go and find the nice Mrs Philpot—the unfriendly Harries, whoever they might be—and the fearsome Great-Grandad? Sounds interesting, doesn’t it?’

Five on Finniston Farm

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