Читать книгу The Rat-a-Tat Mystery - Enid blyton - Страница 6

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Barney’s home was at Little Wendleman, and a car was at Wendleman station to meet them—a nice big utility van with plenty of room for luggage. Best of all, Barney was there to meet them too, with Miranda sitting excitedly on his shoulder.

“Barney! Old Barney! And Miranda; hey, Miranda!” shouted Snubby, hanging out of the compartment window as the train drew in. He opened the door and he and Loony fell out together. Barney ran up in delight, his brilliant blue eyes shining as brightly as ever. Miranda, the little monkey, leapt up and down on his shoulder and chattered at the top of her voice. She knew everyone immediately.

“Barney! Dear old Barney!” said Diana, and gave him a hug. Roger clapped him on the back, and Snubby grinned all over his freckled, snub-nosed face. As for Loony, he went completely mad, lay on his back, and did one of his bicycling acts at top speed, barking loudly.

“Hallo!” said Barney, his brown face glowing with pleasure at seeing the children who had befriended him when he was a down-at-heel circus-boy. “Gosh—it’s grand to see you all again. Isn’t it, Miranda?”

The little monkey leapt on to Diana’s shoulder and whispered in her ear, holding the lobe in her paw the way she often did. Diana laughed. “Darling Miranda—you haven’t changed a bit, not a bit. And you do look smart in your little red coat and bonnet and skirt!”

Barney looked different. He was no taller and no fatter, and his face was as brown as ever. But now he was dressed well, his hair was cut properly, and he wore a tie, which he had rarely done when he had been a circus-boy. In fact, he looked extremely nice, and Diana gazed at him in admiration.

Barney laughed, as he saw the eyes of all three on him. “Do I look different?” he said, in the voice they knew so well, with the slight American twang he had picked up in his circus travels. “I’m not a circus-boy any more—I’m a gentleman—whew—think of that! Me, Barney the hoop-la boy, the boy who took any job he could, who never wore anything but canvas shoes, dirty old trousers, and a ragged shirt....”

He paused and twinkled round at the three listening children. “Yes, I’m a gentleman now—but I’m still the same, see? I’m just Barney—aren’t I, Miranda?”

Miranda leapt on to his shoulder again and jigged up and down, chattering in monkey-language. What did she care how Barney was dressed, or where he lived, or whether he was a circus-boy or a gentleman? It was all the same to her. He was just Barney.

“Yes, you’re still just Barney,” said Diana, and gave a little sigh of relief. She had wondered just a little if having a family, and a fine house and money to spend would have changed Barney—but no, it hadn’t.

“Come on,” said Barney. “The car’s here, see, and there’s my father driving it.” He said the words “my father” in a very proud voice. Diana felt touched. How very, very glad Barney must be to have a father of his own, and to have found him after so many years of thinking he was dead!

Barney’s father, Mr. Martin, was sitting at the wheel of the car. The children marvelled at the likeness between the two—bright blue, wide-set eyes, corn-coloured hair, a wide mouth, ready to smile. Yes, they were certainly father and son. The only real difference between their faces was that Barney’s was so much browner than his father’s.

“Hallo, kids!” said Mr. Martin, and smiled, looking more like Barney than ever. “Nice of you to come all this way to see Barnabas—or Barney, as you call him. Hop in! We’re to have lunch at his grandmother’s, and then I’ll take you to Rat-a-Tat House.”

“Thank you very much, sir,” said Roger politely. “It’s good of you to meet us like this—and jolly good of Barney’s grandmother to invite us to stay with him at Rat-a-Tat House. We’re thrilled.”

The boys piled the suit-cases into the utility van. Loony clambered in, and sat up in a corner so that he could look out of the window. He loved hanging his head out of a car, his long ears flapping in the breeze. He was delighted to see Barney again, though he wasn’t so sure about Miranda the monkey. He had suddenly remembered how she used to ride on his back, jigging up and down in a most aggravating manner. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Would she try that old trick again?

The car drew up in the drive of a pleasant-looking house, timbered, with white walls, tall chimneys and wide casement windows. As they drew up, the front door flew open, and a little old lady stood there, as brown-eyed as the monkey that sat on her shoulder.

“Ah, here you are!” she cried. “Welcome, welcome! I’ve longed to meet dear Barney’s friends. Come along in, come along in!”

The children liked Barney’s grandmother at once. She had curly white hair, a very pink, soft-cheeked face, brown eyes, and a lively smile. They smiled to see the monkey on her shoulder as they shook hands.

“Ah—you see I have a monkey just like Barnabas!” she said in a merry, bird-like voice. “Monkeys run in our family—my mother kept two. Jinny, here are good friends!”

Jinny, the little monkey, was not dressed like Miranda. She wore a little yellow cape round her thin shoulders. She held out a tiny, wizened paw in a very solemn manner and shook hands with each of them. Loony stared in astonishment at her. What—another monkey—or was he seeing double?

Soon they were all sitting in a cosy room, with a blazing fire, gay curtains and a lovely meal laid ready on a round table. Snubby looked at it approvingly. Hot tomato soup to begin with—now that was just what he felt like! He took his place at once and beamed round. This was the kind of thing Snubby enjoyed.

“What comes next?” he asked Barney, in a loud whisper.

“Ah—Barnabas has told me what you like,” said the old lady, who had very sharp ears. “Sausages—plenty of them—and fried onions and tomatoes—and potatoes and peas. Barnabas has had many a meal with you, I know—and now I am proud you should have a meal with him.”

Snubby thought this sounded fine. What a nice old lady. Barney was certainly lucky to have such a splendid family belonging to him. For a second Snubby was just a little jealous when he looked at Barney’s handsome, smiling father. He would have liked a father like that—but he had no parents at all, worse luck. Snubby simply couldn’t understand children who grumbled at their parents—they didn’t know how lucky they were to have them!

It was a very pleasant meal. Barney told them all about the lessons he had had during the last term. He had never been to school, and his father had thought he must have plenty of private coaching before he sent him anywhere. The boy was very intelligent, and enjoyed his lessons immensely.

“He’s as good at them as he is at walking the tight-rope or turning cart wheels!” said his father, with a laugh.

“How marvellous!” said Snubby, enviously. “I’m no good at either! Barney—do you ever miss the circuses and fairs and shows you used to belong to?”

“Sometimes,” said Barney. “Not often. But just at times I think of what fun it was sleeping out under the stars—or having a tasty meal out of some cook-pot in a fair when I was very hungry—and I miss the show people a bit.”

“You can always go off for a taste of that life again, whenever you want to, Barney,” said his father, smiling at him.

“I know,” said Barney. “But I shall always come back home—come back here to you and Granny. I like the freedom of the show-life—but I like putting out roots too, as I can here. That feeling of belonging somewhere—to a place or a family—that’s what I’ve missed all my life, and now I’ve got it, I’m going to keep it.”

The talk went on during the meal, happy, jolly talk, friendly and intimate. Loony lay beneath the table, amazed at the variety of titbits that came down to him from Snubby, Roger and Barney. Miranda, curious to see why Loony was so peaceful, slid down a table leg to investigate, and joined in Loony’s little feast, much to his annoyance. Jinny, the other monkey, seldom left her mistress’s shoulder, and gravely took little titbits in her tiny paw. Sometimes she patted the soft old cheek near to her, and often did what Miranda did to Barney—slid a small paw down her mistress’s neck to warm her tiny fingers.

“Now, after lunch, the car will take you all to Rat-a-Tat House,” said Barney’s grandmother. “Mrs. Tickle, the cook’s sister, is already there.”

“Mrs. Tickle—is that really her name?” asked Snubby. “Is she ticklish?”

“I have no idea,” said Mrs. Martin. “And if I were you I wouldn’t try to find out.”

“I thought a cousin of Barney’s was coming too,” said Roger. “Where is he? Are we going to pick him up somewhere?”

“No. He has started a cold,” said Mrs. Martin. “He may be along in a day or two, but not to-day. You’ll have to settle in without him.”

This pleased everyone very much. They badly wanted to have a long, friendly talk with old Barney, and a strange cousin would have embarrassed them.

They piled into the utility van, and waved good-bye to Barney’s grandmother and little Jinny, the monkey. Then away they drove over the snowy roads towards the white-clad hills.

“Wake me up at Rat-a-Tat House,” said Snubby, suddenly feeling sleepy after his enormous lunch. “What fun we’re going to have there!”

You’re right, Snubby—you just wait and see!