Читать книгу Those Dreadful Children - Enid blyton - Страница 5

Table of Contents

Neither Margery nor John dared to climb over the wall into the other garden again in the evenings. It had been a great shock to them to be caught like that by the Taggertys, and given such a rough time. They talked about it to one another when Annette wasn’t there.

“We can’t possibly be friends with them. They were so rough and dirty and horrid. The way they got us down like that!”

“Yes—and the way they took poor Angela and then threw her back, and made her fall on the ground,” said Margery. “Thank goodness she wasn’t broken. I’ve never broken a doll in my life, and I simply couldn’t bear it if Angela got hurt. Horrible children!”

“It’s quite certain Mother will never let us know them,” said John, “so that will be all right. I wonder when they will arrive.”

The Taggertys moved in one day the following week. John had to take a message for his mother to someone living two doors away from the Taggertys’ house, and as he passed by he saw two big removal vans backing up to the front gate.

“They’re moving in!” he thought, and stood for a minute to watch. Some of the furniture was carried into the house as he watched. John thought it wasn’t very nice furniture. It looked shabby and old, not like theirs at home, which was always fresh and shining and spotless.

A big, plump woman, with untidy hair and a loud voice, came out of the house. “The next lot is to go into the room on the right,” she told the men, in a cheerful voice that could be heard all down the road.

“That must be Mrs. Taggerty,” thought John. “She looks quite jolly—but isn’t she untidy! Just like those dreadful children.”

He wondered when the children would arrive. There was no sign of them then. Only Mrs. Taggerty seemed to be there. Perhaps the children would arrive later. He went along to deliver his message and stayed for a while with his mother’s friend, waiting whilst she wrote an answer for him to take.

Just as he passed the Taggertys’ house a shabby old car drew up, and out of it tumbled three children. Yes, Pat, Maureen and Biddy. John saw another woman in the car, holding a big white bundle. That would be the baby. A man sat at the wheel, smiling. He had a long thin face, very deep-set blue eyes, and a mass of dark, wavy hair, grey at the edges. He looked nice.

“That must be Mr. Taggerty,” thought John, slipping quickly to the opposite side of the road, so that the children wouldn’t see him. He didn’t mean to speak to them at all.

The children poured into the front garden, shouting in excitement, laughing in delight at coming to a new home. They didn’t see John. Mrs. Taggerty came to the front door and they flung themselves on her.

“Mummy! We’ve come at last! But what a pity, the vans got here first.”

“We had a puncture! It took ages to get the wheel off. We nearly went mad, it took so long.”

“I want to see the men putting the furniture into my bedroom. Have they done it yet? I want to tell them exactly where to put everything.”

Mixed up among the children’s legs was a dog. It was a curious-looking dog, black and tan, with such a long tail that it waved about like a plume. The dog was as excited as the children. It plunged about, barking madly. John didn’t like the look of it at all.

“What a dog! It’s a terrible mongrel! It’s not a terrier, or a spaniel, or a retriever—it’s just a mix-up. And look at its awful tail!” he thought. “Well, I hope it never comes into our garden. If I catch it there, digging up our beds, I’ll chase it out with a stick!”

“Get down, Dopey, get down!” yelled Pat, as the dog, trying to get the boy’s attention, leapt right up at him and licked his face. “Mummy, Dopey was quite mad in the car. We had to open a window and let him put his head out all the time. Daddy said he wanted to make sure we were taking the right road.”

“Woof,” said Dopey, in an excited doggy voice, and pawed at Mrs. Taggerty.

“Good dog! Go indoors then!” said Mrs. Taggerty. “Patrick, try to keep him out of the men’s way, or they’ll be falling over him and dropping wardrobes down the stairs.”

Dopey disappeared into the house with a bound and a deep “woof”. The children followed. The removal men went in with a dressing-table. Mr. Taggerty got out of the car and helped the woman with the baby to the pavement.

“Come on, Bridget,” he said. “We’ll have to wake up Michael, I’m afraid. Well, what do you think of the house?”

John didn’t wait to hear or see any more. He sped home to tell Margery and Annette all about everything. He called them excitedly. “Margery! Annette! I’ve got something to tell you.”

They listened eagerly to his story. Margery didn’t at all like the sound of the big dog.

“I hope he doesn’t come here. I should be afraid of him. Oh dear, I do wish the children were nice—it would be such fun to have three to play with, living just at the bottom of our garden.”

“How do you know they’re not nice?” said Annette. “You haven’t even spoken to them.”

John and Margery didn’t say they had. They knew Annette would go rushing to tell Mother if she knew they had been into the Taggertys’ garden, and seen the children.

Mother, too, heard that the Taggertys were moving in. “I’ll just wait and see what kind of people they are before I make friends with them, and go calling on Mrs. Taggerty,” she said. “Anyway, Mrs. Wilson will know—the friend you took a message to this morning, John. She lives only two doors away and will be sure to know what they are like.”

“I didn’t think they looked very nice when I passed by today,” said John. “I saw the children going in. They were awfully noisy and excited.”

Although Margery and John had quite made up their minds not to speak to the Taggerty children any more, they couldn’t help going down the garden to see if any of them were in their garden too.

Annette was standing on the garden-roller, looking over the wall. From the other garden came the sound of shouts and calls, laughter, woofs and shrieks.

“They’re in the garden,” said Annette.

“You needn’t tell us that!” said John. “We can hear.”

“I’ve seen the big dog,” said Annette. “He’s called Dopey. And they’ve got a big cat, too. I’ve seen it.”

“What’s it like?” asked Margery.

“It’s black, with four white feet and a white bib,” said Annette. “And they call it Socks. Isn’t that a silly name for a cat?”

“Yes, very,” said John. “Socks! I suppose they call it that because it looks as if it’s wearing white socks.”

“Socks and Dopey! What queer names for animals,” said Margery. “Is Socks friendly with Dopey, Annette? Did you see?”

“Oh yes. Dopey chases Socks, and Socks chases Dopey,” said Annette. “And when Socks is tired of being chased, she just runs up a tree. There she is now, look!”

The children looked. They saw a large black cat, with four white feet, sitting solemnly on the branch of a tree looking at them.

“Doesn’t she look haughty?” said Margery. “She looks as if she doesn’t want to know us at all!”

“Well, look haughty back, then,” said John. “We don’t want to know her. Dreadful children, a silly dog and a haughty cat! Look out—here come the children. Let’s hide.”

Pat, Maureen and Biddy appeared through the tangle of bushes at the bottom of their garden. Biddy was as black as a sweep, and her hair-ribbon was, as usual, undone, and trailed down her neck.

Margery and John ran to hide under a nearby bush. Annette wasn’t quite quick enough. Pat saw her head above the wall just before she got down from the roller. He called to her.

“Hey, you! What’s your name?”

Annette didn’t answer. She scrambled down and fell off the roller, grazing her knee. At once she set up a terrific yell. Pat’s head appeared above the wall.

“What’s up? What a row!”

Annette pointed to her knee. The graze was so slight that it could hardly be seen.

“Cry-baby!” said Pat. “My little sister wouldn’t howl for a graze like that!”

Annette was angry to hear herself called a cry-baby. “Nasty boy!” she said. “I’ll tell my mother you called me a cry-baby.”

“Dear little tell-tale!” said Pat, and grinned. “Run away and tell her. Cry-baby! Tell-tale!”

Annette was so surprised and angry at this speech that she stood there with her mouth open, ready to howl, but quite forgetting to in her astonishment at hearing someone speaking to her so rudely and unkindly.

“If you don’t close your mouth the flies will get in,” said Pat. “Hey, Maureen, come on up here! There’s a funny cry-baby over the wall with her mouth wide open.”

But before Maureen’s head appeared, Annette was off up the garden to find her mother, screaming in anger. How dared that boy talk to her like that?

Mother appeared at once and comforted her. “Poor little Annette! Don’t take any notice of such a rude boy! Did you hurt your poor knee? Why didn’t John and Margery look after you?”

“They hid away,” sobbed Annette. “They don’t look after me at all. They’re horrid, too.”

“Now you choose a sweet out of the sweet-tin and go and play in the nursery,” said Mother. “And don’t go and look over the wall any more, in case those children are there. If that’s the way they behave we won’t have anything to do with them.”