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Authors: Enid Blyton

Tags: #Famous Five (Fictitious Characters), #Juvenile Fiction, #Friendship, #Social Issues

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BOOK: Five Have a Wonderful Time
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they are old-fashioned gypsy ones. You'll like them. Gay and very picturesque."

"Who lent you them?" asked George, as they left the shop. "Some school friend, wasn't it?"

"Yes. He and his family always go and camp in their caravans in the Easter and summer hols," said Julian.

"But this Easter they're going to France — and rather than leave them empty, they thought they'd lend them out—and we're the lucky ones!"

They walked up the lane and came to the stile. George looked up at the towering castle, gleaming in the sun on the hill opposite.

"Faynights Castle," she said. "Hundreds of years old! How I'd love to know all the things that happened there through the centuries. I do love old things. I vote we go and explore it."

"We will. It only costs five pence," said Dick. "We'll all have a good five pence worth of castle. I wonder if there are any dungeons. Dark, damp, drear and dreadful!"

They went up the grassy hillside to the field where their caravans were. George exclaimed in delight. "Oh!

Are
those
our caravans? Aren't they gay? They're just like the caravans the gypsies use — only these look cleaner and gayer."

"The red caravan, picked out with black and yellow, is ours," said Dick. "The blue one, picked out in black and yellow, is yours and Anne's."

"Woof," said Timmy at once.

"Oh, sorry — yours
too
, Timmy," said Dick at once, and everyone chuckled. It was queer the way Timmy suddenly made a woofish remark, just as if he really understood every word that was said. George was quite certain he did, of course.

The caravans stood on high wheels. There was a window each side. The door was at the front, and so were the steps, of course. Gay curtains hung at the windows, and a line of bold carving ran round the edges of the out-jutting roof.

"They are old gypsy caravans painted and made really up to date," said Julian. "They're jolly comfortable inside too — bunks that fold down against the walls in the daytime — a little sink for washing-up, though we usually use the stream, because it's such a fag to fetch water — a small larder, cupboards and shelves — cork carpet on the floor with warm rugs so that no draught comes through.…"

"You sound as if you are trying to sell them to me!" said George, with a laugh. "You needn't! I love them both, and I think they're miles nicer than the modern caravans down there. Somehow these seem
real
!"

"Oh, the others are real enough," said Julian. "And they've got more space — but space doesn't matter to us because we shall live outside most of the time."

"Do we have a camp-fire?" asked George, eagerly. "Oh, yes — I see we do. There's the ashy patch where you had your fire. Oh, Julian, do let's have a fire there at night and sit round it in the darkness!"

"With midges biting us and bats flapping all round," said Dick. "Yes, certainly we will! Come inside, George."

"She's to come into my caravan first," said Anne, and pushed George up the steps. George was really delighted.

She was very happy to think she was going to have a peaceful two weeks here with her three cousins and Timmy. She pulled her bunk up and down to see how it worked. She opened the larder and cupboard doors.

Then she went to see the boys' caravan.

"How
tidy
!" she said, in surprise. "I expected Anne's to be tidy — but yours is just as spick and span. Oh dear — " I hope you haven't all turned over a new leaf and become models of neatness.
I
haven't!"

"Don't worry," said Dick, with a grin. "Anne has been at work — you know how she loves to put everything in its place. We don't need to worry about anything when she's about. Good old Anne!"

"All the same, George will have to help me," said Anne, firmly. "I don't expect boys to tidy up and cook and do things like that — but George ought to because she's a girl."

"If only I'd been born a boy!" groaned George. "All right Anne, I'll do my share — sometimes. I say — there won't be much room for Timmy on my bunk at nights, will there?"

"Well, he's not coming on mine," said Anne. "He can sleep on the floor on a rug. Can't you, Timmy?"

"Woof," said Timmy, without wagging his tail at all. He looked very disapproving.

"There you are — he says he wouldn't
dream
of doing such a thing!" said George. "He
always
sleeps on my feet."

They went outside again. It really was a lovely day. The primroses opened more and more of their little yellow flowers, and a blackbird suddenly burst into a fluting song on the bough of a hawthorn tree in the hedge nearby.

"Did anyone get a paper in the village?" asked Dick. "Oh, you did, Julian. Good. Let's have a look at the weather forecast. If it's good we might go for a long walk this afternoon. The sea is not really very far off."

Julian took the folded paper from his pocket and threw it over to Dick. He sat down on the steps of his caravan and opened it.

He was looking for the paragraph giving the weather forecast when headlines caught his eye. He gave an exclamation.

"Hallo! Here's a bit more about those two vanished scientists, Julian!"

"Oh!" said George, remembering Julian's telephone call of the night before. "Julian, whatever in the world made you think my father could be one of the vanished scientists?

As if he would ever be disloyal to his country and take his secrets anywhere else!"

"Oh, I didn't think that," said Julian, at once. "Of
course
I didn't! I'd never think Uncle Quentin would do a thing like that.

No—in yesterday's paper it just said that two of our most famous

scientists had disappeared—and I thought perhaps they had been

kidnapped. And as Uncle Quentin is really very famous, I just

thought I'd ring up to make sure,"

"Oh," said George. "Well, as Mother hadn't heard a thing about them she was awfully astonished when you asked her if

Father had disappeared. Especially as he was banging about just

then in the study, looking for something he had lost."

"Which he was sitting on as usual, I suppose," said Dick with a grin. "But listen to this — it doesn't look as if the two men have been kidnapped — it looks as if they just walked out and took

important papers with them! Beasts! There's too much of that sort of thing nowadays, it seems tome!"

He read out a paragraph or two.

"Derek Terry-Kane and Jeffrey Pottersham have been missing for two days. They met at a friend's house to discuss a certain aspect of their work, and then left together to walk to the underground. Since then they have not been seen.

"It has, however, been established that Terry-Kane had brought his passport up to date and had purchased tickets for flying to Paris. No news of his arrival there has been reported."

"There! Just what I said to Mother!" exclaimed George. "They've gone off to sell their secrets to another country. Why do we let them?"

"Uncle Quentin won't be pleased about that," said Julian. "Didn't he work with Terry-Kane at one time?"

"Yes. I believe he did," said George. "I'm jolly glad I'm not at home today — Father will be rampaging round like anything, telling Mother hundreds of times what he thinks about scientists who are traitors!"

"He certainly will," said Julian. "I don't blame him either. That's a thing I don't understand — to be a traitor to one's own country. It leaves a nasty taste in my mouth to think of it. Come on — let's think about dinner, Anne. What are we going to have?"

"Fried sausages and onions, potatoes, a tin of sliced peaches and I'll make a custard," said Anne, at once.

"I'll fry the sausages," said Dick. "I'll light the fire out here and get the frying-pan. Anyone like their sausages split in the cooking?"

Everyone did. "I like mine nice and
burnt
" said George. "How many do we have each? I've only had those icecreams since breakfast."

"There are twelve," said Anne, giving Dick the bag. "Three each. None for Timmy! But I've got a large, juicy bone for him. Julian, will you get me some water, please? There's the pail, over there. I want to peel the potatoes. George, can you possibly open the peaches without cutting yourself like you did last time?"

"Yes, Captain!" said George, with a grin. "Ah — this is like old times. Good food, good company and a good time. Three cheers for Us!"

Chapter Four
THE FAIR-FOLK ARRIVE

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THAT first day they were all together was a lovely one. They enjoyed it thoroughly, especially George, who had fretted all by herself for two weeks at home. Timmy was very happy too. He tore after rabbits, most of them quite imaginary, up and down the field and in and out the hedges till he was tired out.

Then he would come and fling himself down by the four, panting like a steam-engine going uphill, his long pink tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"You make me feel hot just to
look
at you, Timmy," said Anne, pushing him away. "Look, George — he's so hot he's steaming! One of these days, Timmy, you'll blow up!"

They went for a walk in the afternoon, but didn't quite get to the sea. They saw it from a hill, sparkling blue in the distance. Little white yachts dotted the blue water like far-off swans with wings out-spread. They had tea at a farmhouse, watched by a couple of big-eyed farm-children.

"Do you want to take some of my home-made jam with you?" asked the farmer's jolly, red-faced wife, when they paid her for their tea.

"Oh, yes, rather!" said Dick. "And I suppose you couldn't sell us some of that fruit-cake? We're camping in caravans in Faynights Field, just opposite the castle — so we're having picnic meals each day."

"Yes, you can have a whole cake," said the farmer's wife. "I did rny baking yesterday, so there's plenty. And would you like some ham? And I've some good pickled onions too."

This was wonderful! They bought all the food very cheaply indeed, and carried it home gladly. Dick took off the lid of the pickled onions half-way back to the caravans, and sniffed.

"Better than any scent!" he said. "Have a sniff, George."

It didn't stop at sniffs, of course. Everyone took out a large pickled onion — except Timmy who backed away at once. Onions were one thing he really couldn't bear. Dick put back the lid.

"I think somebody else ought to carry the onions, not Dick," said Anne. "There won't be many left by the time we reach our caravans!"

When they climbed over the stile at the bottom of the field the sun was going down. The evening star had appeared in the sky and twinkled brightly. As they trudged up to their caravans Julian stopped and pointed.

"Hallo! Look! There are two more caravans here—rather like ours. I wonder if it's the fair-folk arriving."

"And there's another one, see — coming up the lane," said Dick. "It will have to go to the field-gate because it can't come the way we do — over the stile. There it goes."

"We shall soon have plenty of exciting neighbours!" said Anne, pleased. They went up to their own caravans and looked curiously at the one that stood near to theirs. It was yellow, picked out with blue and black, and could have done with a new coat of paint. It was very like their own caravans, but looked much older.

There didn't seem to be anyone about the newly-arrived vans. The doors and windows were shut. The four stood and looked curiously at them.

"There's a big box under that nearest caravan," said Julian. "I wonder what's in it!"

The box was long, shallow and wide, On the sides were round holes, punched into it at intervals. George went to the caravan and bent down to look at the box, wondering if there was anything alive in it.

Timmy went with her, sniffing at the holes in curiosity. He suddenly backed away, and barked loudly.

George put her hand on his collar to drag him off but he wouldn't go with her. He barked without stopping!

A noise came from inside the box — a rustling, dry, sliding sort of noise that made Timmy bark even more frantically.

"Stop it, Timmy! Stop it!" said George, tugging at him. "Julian, come and help me. There's something in that box that Timmy has never met before — goodness knows what — and he's half-puzzled and half-scared. He's barking defiance — and he'll never stop unless we drag him away!"

An angry voice came from the bottom of the field by the stile, "Hey you! Take that dog away! What do you mean by poking into my business — upsetting my snakes!"

"Oooh — snakes!" said Anne, retiring quickly to her own caravan. "George, it's snakes in there. Do get Timmy away."

Julian and George managed to drag Timmy away, half-choking him with his collar, though he didn't seem to notice this at all. The angry voice was now just behind them. George turned and saw a little dark man, middleaged, with gleaming black eyes. He was shaking his fist, still shouting.

"Sorry," said George, pulling Timmy harder. "Please stop shouting, or my dog will go for you."

"Go for me! He will go for me! You keep a dangerous dog like that, which smells out my snakes and will go for me!" yelled the angry little man, dancing about like a boxer on his toes. "Ahhhhhh! Wait till I let out my snakes — and then your dog will run and run, and will never be seen again!"

BOOK: Five Have a Wonderful Time
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