Читать книгу The Island of Adventure - Enid blyton - Страница 8

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The girls had decided to have the two rooms. They were such small rooms, and it would be easier to keep two rooms tidier than one, if two people were to have them.

“There would never be room for anything if we tried to keep all our things in one room,” said Dinah, and Lucy-Ann agreed. She had been up to see the tower-room and liked it very much. She would have liked a room without glass panes too. It was almost as good as sleeping out-of-doors, thought the little girl, as she leaned out of one of the windows, and felt the sea-breeze streaming through her hair.

The girls’ two rooms looked out over the sea, but in a different direction from the boys’. The Isle of Gloom could never be seen from there. Jack told Lucy-Ann what Jo-Jo had said, and Lucy-Ann looked rather alarmed.

“You needn’t worry. Jo-Jo’s full of queer beliefs and stories,” said Philip with a laugh. “There’s nothing in his stories, really—I believe he just likes frightening people.”

It was queer to sleep for the first time at Craggy-Tops. Lucy-Ann lay awake for a long time, listening to the muffled roar of the waves breaking on the rocks below. She heard the wind whistling, too, and liked it. How different it all was from the quiet little town Uncle Geoffrey lived in! There everything seemed half dead—but here there was noise and movement, the taste of salt on her lips, the feel of the wind through her hair. It was exciting. Anything might happen at lonely Craggy-Tops.

Jack lay awake in the tower-room too. Philip was asleep on the mattress beside him. Jack got up and went to the window. The room was full of the wind, sweeping in at the sea-windows. Jack put his head out, and looked down.

There was a little moon rushing through the clouds. Down below was the swirling water, for the tide was in, beating over the black rocks. Spray flew up on the wind, and Jack felt sure he could feel a little on his cheek, high though his room was. He licked his lips. They tasted deliciously salt.

A bird cried in the night. It sounded sad and mournful, but Jack liked it. What bird was it? One he didn’t know? The sea pounded away below and the wind swept up in gusts. Jack shivered. It was summer-time, but Craggy-Tops was built in such a wind-driven spot that there were always draughts blowing around.

Then he jumped violently, for something touched his shoulder. His heart thumped, and then he laughed. It was only Kiki.

Kiki always slept with Jack, wherever he was. Usually she sat on the rail at the head of his bed, her big head tucked under her wing, but there was no rail this time, only a flat mattress laid on the floor.

So Kiki had found an uncomfortable perch on the edge of the chest—but when she heard Jack at the window she had flown to her usual perch, on his shoulder, making him jump violently. She nestled against him.

“Go to bed, naughty boy,” she said. “Go to bed.”

Jack grinned. It was funny when Kiki by chance hit on the right sentences. He scratched her poll, talking in a low voice to her, so as not to wake Philip.

“I’ll rig you up a perch of some sort tomorrow, Kiki,” he said. “You can’t sleep properly on the edge of that chest, I know. Now I’m going to bed. It’s a wild night, isn’t it? But I like it.”

He went back to bed, cold and shivering. But he soon got warm, cuddled up against Philip’s back, and fell asleep, to dream of thousands of sea-birds walking tamely up to be photographed.

Life at Craggy-Tops was strange to Jack and Lucy-Ann at first, after all the years they had spent in an ordinary little house in an ordinary little town.

There was no electric light. There was no hot or cold water coming out of taps. There were no shops round the corner. There was no garden.

There were oil-lamps to clean and trim each day, and candles to be put into candle-sticks. There was water to be pumped up from a deep, deep well. Jack was interested in the well.

There was a small yard behind the house, backing on to the rocky cliff, and in it was the well that gave the household their water. Jack and Lucy-Ann were surprised that the water was not salt.

“No, it’s pure drinking-water all right,” said Dinah, lifting a heavy bucket from the chain. “The well goes right down in the rocks, far below the sea-bed, to pure water, crystal clear and icy cold. Taste it.”

It was good to drink—as good as any iced water the children had drunk on hot summer days. Jack peered down the dark, deep well.

“I’d like to go down in that bucket and find out how deep the well-bottom is,” he said.

“You’d feel funny if you got stuck and couldn’t get up again,” said Dinah, with a giggle. “Come on, help me, Jack. Don’t stand dreaming there. You’re always dreaming.”

“And you’re always so quick and impatient,” said Philip, near by. Dinah gave him an angry look. She flared up very quickly, and it was easy to provoke her.

“Well, if you had to do as much as Lucy-Ann and I have been told to do, you’d be a bit quicker too,” she snapped back. “Come on, Lucy-Ann. Let’s leave the boys to get on with their jobs. Boys aren’t much good, anyway.”

“Yes, you’d better go, before I slap you,” yelled Philip after her, and then darted away before the angry Dinah could come after him. Lucy-Ann was puzzled and rather shocked at their continual quarrels, but she soon saw that they were over as quickly as they arose, and got used to them.

Shopping was quite a business. It meant that Jo-Jo had to get out the old car, and go off with a long list to the nearest village twice a week. If anything was forgotten, it had to be done without till the next visit. Vegetables were got from a small allotment that Jo-Jo worked at himself, in a sheltered dip of the cliff away behind the house.

“Let’s go with Jo-Jo and have a ride in the car,” suggested Lucy-Ann one morning. But Philip shook his head.

“No good,” he said. “We’ve asked Jo-Jo heaps of times, but he won’t take us. He just refuses, and says he’ll push us out of the car if we get in it to go with him. I did get in once, and he kept his word and pushed me out.”

“The old beast!” said Jack, astonished. “I wonder you put up with him.”

“Well, who else would come here and work for us in this desolate place?” said Dinah. “Nobody else. Jo-Jo wouldn’t either if he wasn’t half mad.”

Still, Lucy-Ann did ask Jo-Jo if she could go with him when he went shopping.

“No,” said the black man, and scowled.

“Please, Jo-Jo,” said Lucy-Ann, looking at him pleadingly. Usually she got her own way when she badly wanted it—but not with Jo-Jo.

“I said NO,” repeated the black man, and walked off, his powerful arms swinging by his sides. Lucy-Ann stared after him. How horrid he was! Why wouldn’t he take any of them in the car when he went shopping? Just bad temper, she supposed.

It was fun being at Craggy-Tops, in spite of so many things being difficult. Hot baths, for instance, could only be had once a week. At least, they could be taken every day, if someone lighted the copper fire, and was willing to carry pails of hot water down miles of stone passages to the one and only bath, set in a small room called the bathroom.

After doing this once, Jack decided that he didn’t really care whether he had any more hot baths or not whilst he was at Craggy-Tops. He’d bathe in the sea two or three times a day, and make that do instead.

The girls were given household tasks to do, and did them as best they could. Aunt Polly did the cooking. Uncle Jocelyn did not appear even for meals. Aunt Polly took them to him in his study, and the children hardly remembered he was in the house.

The boys had to get in the water from the well, bring the wood in for the kitchen fire, and fill the burners in the oil-stove with oil. They took it in turns with the girls to clean and trim the lamps. Nobody liked doing that, it was such a messy job.

Jo-Jo looked after the car and the allotment, did rough scrubbing, cleaned the windows when they became clogged up with salty spray, and did all kinds of other jobs. He had a boat of his own, a sound and good one with a small sail.

“Would he let us use it?” asked Jack.

“Of course not,” said Philip scornfully. “And you’d better not try to, without permission. He’d beat you if you did. That boat is the apple of his eye. We are not allowed even to set foot in it.”

Jack went to have a look at it. It was a very good boat indeed, and must have cost a lot of money. It had recently been painted and was in first-class order. There were oars, mast and sail, and a good deal of fishing tackle. Jack would dearly have loved to go out in it.

But even as he stood looking at it, wondering if he dared to put his foot into it and feel the boat rocking gently beneath him, the black man appeared, his usual scowl even blacker.

“What you doing?” he demanded, his dark eyes rolling, and the whites showing plainly. “That’s my boat.”

“All right, all right,” said Jack impatiently. “Can’t I look at it?”

“No,” said Jo-Jo, and scowled again.

“Naughty boy,” said Kiki, and screeched at Jo-Jo, who looked as if he would like to wring the bird’s neck.

“Well, you certainly are a pleasant fellow,” said Jack, stepping away from the boat, feeling suddenly afraid of the sullen black man. “But let me tell you this—I’m going out in a boat, somehow, and you can’t stop me.”

Jo-Jo looked after Jack with his eyes half closed and his mouth turned in angrily. That interfering boy! Jo-Jo would certainly stop him doing anything if he could!