(no subject)
Chapter Seven
An Interesting Meeting
It took some time for all seven of the children to get ready for bed. Nicola and Lawrie, who had decided that it would hurry things along a little if they shared the bathroom were more resigned than dismayed to find Timmy stretched out on George's bed when they returned to the girls' bedroom. George was sitting cross legged at the other end of the bed gazing out at the moon but there was no sign of Anne.
"Gone to get hot water bottles," George told them briefly. "I never bother, neither do the boys but Mother thought you might like one. Are you finished? I'll go next then."
She sprang up in a neat movement and the second she had left the room Timmy set up a low growl in his throat. Lawrie, in the act of getting into her makeshift bed jumped and clutched at Nicola.
"Is he going to bite?"
"Shouldn't think so," Nicola said although she wasn't very sure. Timmy, with his ears back and his lip curled slightly was a different proposition from the friendly creature they'd played with on the beach. "Probably because we're down here on the floor and he's up higher or something. Remember how Daks used to growl at Tessa when she was on Peter's lap? She never did it any other time."
"Better stand up then," said Lawrie logically, but the growl turned to something more menacing as she tried to do so. They were both extremely glad to see Anne appear at the door clutching hot water bottles. Immediately Timmy stopped growling, gave everyone a sheepish look and began to scratch, sand and hair flying in all directions.
"Oh, I wish he wouldn't do that!" said the long suffering Anne . "Now my bed will be full of sand - yours too, I shouldn't wonder."
"Oh, it doesn't matter," said Nicola resignedly. "I'm sure he'll settle down soon, won't you, Timmy?"
"Woof," said Timmy quite loudly but Nicola thought that at least it sounded friendlier than the growling.
"It's best not to ask him anything," said Anne. "He always answers if you do and it upsets Uncle Quentin."
"What?" said Lawrie from the depths of her bed, "What do you mean, ask him anything? Is he like dogs in books who understand every word you say to them?"
Anne laughed.
"I mean, if you say anything and look at him at the same time he seems to understand. He can be so comical. Although he's a bit too noisy sometimes. You'll hear him in the morning but don't be too alarmed - it'll only be the milkman."
"Will he stay put?" asked Lawrie eying Timmy. "He's not going to come and jump all over us, is he?"
"He does when we're camping - treads all over everything until he decides where he's going to sleep but we're used to it. Dear old Tim!"
She got into her bed after asking solicitous questions about the twins' warmth and comfort and said:
"We always have a lot of fun when we come and stay. I hope you will too."
"Thanks," said Nicola. Lawrie didn't answer at all. She was already fast asleep.
Nicola woke up early the next morning. The room was almost dark still but she could make out a line of light coming in between the gap in the curtains just above her head. She sat up and tweaked the curtain aside and looked out into a frosty garden.
She lay back wondering how soon she could get up. Her watch said nearly seven and if she were at home she would definitely get up. But here - for a start she'd have to climb over Lawrie's recumbent form and try not to bang into Anne's bed which was nearest the door and then there was Timmy who might -
She looked at George's bed and realised that Timmy and George were missing. That put a different complexion on things altogether. If George was up and about then there was no reason why she shouldn't be too.
She grabbed her clothes and dressed quickly, then, shoes in hand - washing could wait - she felt her way past the still sleeping Lawrie and Anne, opened the door, missed the uneven step on the landing sending a judder from her foot right along her spine and crept down stairs which creaked on every tread.
The kitchen was wonderfully warm after the chilliness of the rest of the house. Nicola wondered if it would be unguestworthy to make herself a cup of tea, dithered, Lawrie like for a minute or two, and finally decided she would jog down to the beach which would be a fairly spiffing thing to do on a morning which was becoming lighter by the minute. She might find George who must be taking Timmy for an early morning run somewhere.
She rummaged along the hall pegs for her jacket trying to identify it by its shape rather than risk turning on another light and waking anyone.
"Psst! Nick!"
"Peter! Pete's sake!" She sent a boot skittering over the tiled floor. "Must you creep about frightening people into fits!"
"Sorry, I was actually trying not to frighten you! Where're you going?"
"Out. Coming?"
"That was the idea. Hang on a tick while I put my shoes on."
The back door was already unlocked and unbolted which made things ssimpler and they both heaved a sigh of relief as they stepped out into the garden, through the gate and started down the steps that led to the cliff path and the beach
"Nice to be outside," Nicola said, taking appreciative gulps of the sharp, frosty air. "It's a bit stuffy in our bedroom with five of us crammed in there."
"At least you didn't have Dick farting all night and thinking how funny he was being," said Peter. "And Julian snores. Really drives them in. Could you hear him?"
"Didn't hear a thing above the racket Timmy made turning round and round and making George's bed creak like crazy and then and giving these great sighs," said Nicola. "And then I fell asleep."
"Lucky old you - oh, and another thing, Nick. I kept hearing Uncle Quentin talking to Aunt Fanny. She was trying to shush him but they're in the next room to ours and my bed was against the wall and you know what a loud voice he's got. I kept hearing Lawrie's name."
"Lawrie? Wonder why."
"Yes, she's hardly had time to do anything to upset him. Unless it's her barmy cliff escapade. But he didn't sound angry or anything. Just loud."
"Strange," said Nicola, losing interest. "Look, Peter, is that George and Timmy down there, do you think? Talking to the boy with the boat?"
"Could be," Peter said reluctantly. "I'd much rather it wasn't. But she hasn't seen us so we can easily go the other way - no need to be too cousinly so early in the morning."
"Don't be mean. I quite like her. Let's go and find out what she's doing."
George didn't look particularly pleased to see them as they approached but she offered a muttered 'good morning' and introduced them to Alf the fisher boy.
"I was asking him if he'll lend us a bigger dinghy," she explained. "If we go to my island. But he thinks it'll be too heavy for me to row."
"Too heavy for most, Master George," said Alf earnestly. "Them rocks round the island makes it proper 'ard, too - you need your nippy little dinghy, not some gurt old eight berther. Get tipped in the sea in this weather you'd all be goners."
"I suppose you're right," said George reluctantly. "Just have to be two trips then for all of us. If Mother lets us go to my island, that is, and I think she will. It's going to be a perfect day."
"It doesn't look that far," Nicola said squinting at the island.
"Well, it is," said George shortly. "Takes ages because of the rocks."
"I can row," said Peter. "Can't you borrow another smaller boat? I could follow you out, couldn't I?"
George looked doubtful and Alf sucked in his teeth.
"Them rocks is proper cruel," he said. "Ain't they, Master George? Wouldn't want no accidents."
"I'll think about it," George said grudgingly. "Would you lend Saucy Jane to us Alf?"
Alf produced a passable copy of George's expression and expressed similar doubts as to Peter's efficiency. But they agreed that Peter should have a rowing trial immediately after breakfast.
"And talking of breakfast it's time we were getting back," said George. "Where's Tim? Timmy! Leave that fish alone, you bad dog! Don't you dare roll in it!"
Timmy, twenty yards away, about to sink a guilty shoulder into the delicious remains of a washed up and decomposing eel, paused, decided it was in his best interests to obey and galloped towards them as if stinky fish was the last thing on his mind.
"Have we time to go back through the village?" Nicola asked. "I'd love a quick look."
"Well, it'll have to be really quick," said George. "Father hates us to be late for breakfast."
They said goodbye to Alf and George led the way up the beach running a little ahead of Peter and Nicola with Timmy at her heels.
"Do you think she ever says a straightforward yes to anything?" Peter muttered to Nicola.
"Just what I was thinking," said Nicola. "Although I sort of like her, don't you?"
"Sort of," replied Peter cautiously. "Hang on, George! Give us a chance to catch up!"
Nicola thought that the village centre with its half dozen shops and small cottages leaning into each other along the little street was picture postcard pretty and said so, quite expecting George to dismiss what she said as silly. But George said quite nicely:
"I love it here. It's the best place in the world. Hello, who's that waving to us?"
"It's the man on the beach," observed Peter looking at the tall blond man who had just stepped out of the Seal's Head on the other side of the road. "Remember? Duffle coat, fair hair? But why on earth should he recognise us?"
"Lawrie! Hullo, there! Don't you remember me?"
"Oh," said Nicola, light dawning. "Oh, you must be - "
She searched for his name.
"Rodney Stone," he supplied, looking puzzled. "We met on the cliffs yesterday and - "
"I'm not Lawrie, though. I'm her twin."
"Ah," he said. "That makes perfect sense. You are alike, aren't you? How do you do, Nicola? And are these your brothers? Lawrie told me you were visiting your uncle and aunt. Your famous uncle, that is, of course."
"This is Peter and this is George," Nicola replied guardedly not feeling in the least inclined to offer more information than she needed to.
Rodney Stone offered all three of them a broad and friendly smile. Nicola, taking a swift glance at the others, saw that Peter had become inscrutable and George - in spite of being taken for a boy which would surely normally guarantee a cordial response - was wearing her second best scowl. Timmy had his hackles up.
"Come on," said George abruptly. "We're going to be late."
"I can't tempt you to a nice early morning hot chocolate, then? No? Perhaps another time. Please tell Lawrie how much I enjoyed meeting her. Goodbye until we meet again."
He lifted a hand in an affable way and the children hurried on down the street.
"What a creep!" declared Peter as they jogged the last few hundred yards to Kirrin Cottage.
"And Lawrie liked him!" said Nicola. "Honestly, I despair sometimes."
"Well, she was lost," Peter said. "Lawrie wouldn't notice if he was Jack the Ripper if she was in one of her panics."
"Timmy didn't like him at all," said George firmly. "And Timmy is never wrong about people."
An Interesting Meeting
It took some time for all seven of the children to get ready for bed. Nicola and Lawrie, who had decided that it would hurry things along a little if they shared the bathroom were more resigned than dismayed to find Timmy stretched out on George's bed when they returned to the girls' bedroom. George was sitting cross legged at the other end of the bed gazing out at the moon but there was no sign of Anne.
"Gone to get hot water bottles," George told them briefly. "I never bother, neither do the boys but Mother thought you might like one. Are you finished? I'll go next then."
She sprang up in a neat movement and the second she had left the room Timmy set up a low growl in his throat. Lawrie, in the act of getting into her makeshift bed jumped and clutched at Nicola.
"Is he going to bite?"
"Shouldn't think so," Nicola said although she wasn't very sure. Timmy, with his ears back and his lip curled slightly was a different proposition from the friendly creature they'd played with on the beach. "Probably because we're down here on the floor and he's up higher or something. Remember how Daks used to growl at Tessa when she was on Peter's lap? She never did it any other time."
"Better stand up then," said Lawrie logically, but the growl turned to something more menacing as she tried to do so. They were both extremely glad to see Anne appear at the door clutching hot water bottles. Immediately Timmy stopped growling, gave everyone a sheepish look and began to scratch, sand and hair flying in all directions.
"Oh, I wish he wouldn't do that!" said the long suffering Anne . "Now my bed will be full of sand - yours too, I shouldn't wonder."
"Oh, it doesn't matter," said Nicola resignedly. "I'm sure he'll settle down soon, won't you, Timmy?"
"Woof," said Timmy quite loudly but Nicola thought that at least it sounded friendlier than the growling.
"It's best not to ask him anything," said Anne. "He always answers if you do and it upsets Uncle Quentin."
"What?" said Lawrie from the depths of her bed, "What do you mean, ask him anything? Is he like dogs in books who understand every word you say to them?"
Anne laughed.
"I mean, if you say anything and look at him at the same time he seems to understand. He can be so comical. Although he's a bit too noisy sometimes. You'll hear him in the morning but don't be too alarmed - it'll only be the milkman."
"Will he stay put?" asked Lawrie eying Timmy. "He's not going to come and jump all over us, is he?"
"He does when we're camping - treads all over everything until he decides where he's going to sleep but we're used to it. Dear old Tim!"
She got into her bed after asking solicitous questions about the twins' warmth and comfort and said:
"We always have a lot of fun when we come and stay. I hope you will too."
"Thanks," said Nicola. Lawrie didn't answer at all. She was already fast asleep.
Nicola woke up early the next morning. The room was almost dark still but she could make out a line of light coming in between the gap in the curtains just above her head. She sat up and tweaked the curtain aside and looked out into a frosty garden.
She lay back wondering how soon she could get up. Her watch said nearly seven and if she were at home she would definitely get up. But here - for a start she'd have to climb over Lawrie's recumbent form and try not to bang into Anne's bed which was nearest the door and then there was Timmy who might -
She looked at George's bed and realised that Timmy and George were missing. That put a different complexion on things altogether. If George was up and about then there was no reason why she shouldn't be too.
She grabbed her clothes and dressed quickly, then, shoes in hand - washing could wait - she felt her way past the still sleeping Lawrie and Anne, opened the door, missed the uneven step on the landing sending a judder from her foot right along her spine and crept down stairs which creaked on every tread.
The kitchen was wonderfully warm after the chilliness of the rest of the house. Nicola wondered if it would be unguestworthy to make herself a cup of tea, dithered, Lawrie like for a minute or two, and finally decided she would jog down to the beach which would be a fairly spiffing thing to do on a morning which was becoming lighter by the minute. She might find George who must be taking Timmy for an early morning run somewhere.
She rummaged along the hall pegs for her jacket trying to identify it by its shape rather than risk turning on another light and waking anyone.
"Psst! Nick!"
"Peter! Pete's sake!" She sent a boot skittering over the tiled floor. "Must you creep about frightening people into fits!"
"Sorry, I was actually trying not to frighten you! Where're you going?"
"Out. Coming?"
"That was the idea. Hang on a tick while I put my shoes on."
The back door was already unlocked and unbolted which made things ssimpler and they both heaved a sigh of relief as they stepped out into the garden, through the gate and started down the steps that led to the cliff path and the beach
"Nice to be outside," Nicola said, taking appreciative gulps of the sharp, frosty air. "It's a bit stuffy in our bedroom with five of us crammed in there."
"At least you didn't have Dick farting all night and thinking how funny he was being," said Peter. "And Julian snores. Really drives them in. Could you hear him?"
"Didn't hear a thing above the racket Timmy made turning round and round and making George's bed creak like crazy and then and giving these great sighs," said Nicola. "And then I fell asleep."
"Lucky old you - oh, and another thing, Nick. I kept hearing Uncle Quentin talking to Aunt Fanny. She was trying to shush him but they're in the next room to ours and my bed was against the wall and you know what a loud voice he's got. I kept hearing Lawrie's name."
"Lawrie? Wonder why."
"Yes, she's hardly had time to do anything to upset him. Unless it's her barmy cliff escapade. But he didn't sound angry or anything. Just loud."
"Strange," said Nicola, losing interest. "Look, Peter, is that George and Timmy down there, do you think? Talking to the boy with the boat?"
"Could be," Peter said reluctantly. "I'd much rather it wasn't. But she hasn't seen us so we can easily go the other way - no need to be too cousinly so early in the morning."
"Don't be mean. I quite like her. Let's go and find out what she's doing."
George didn't look particularly pleased to see them as they approached but she offered a muttered 'good morning' and introduced them to Alf the fisher boy.
"I was asking him if he'll lend us a bigger dinghy," she explained. "If we go to my island. But he thinks it'll be too heavy for me to row."
"Too heavy for most, Master George," said Alf earnestly. "Them rocks round the island makes it proper 'ard, too - you need your nippy little dinghy, not some gurt old eight berther. Get tipped in the sea in this weather you'd all be goners."
"I suppose you're right," said George reluctantly. "Just have to be two trips then for all of us. If Mother lets us go to my island, that is, and I think she will. It's going to be a perfect day."
"It doesn't look that far," Nicola said squinting at the island.
"Well, it is," said George shortly. "Takes ages because of the rocks."
"I can row," said Peter. "Can't you borrow another smaller boat? I could follow you out, couldn't I?"
George looked doubtful and Alf sucked in his teeth.
"Them rocks is proper cruel," he said. "Ain't they, Master George? Wouldn't want no accidents."
"I'll think about it," George said grudgingly. "Would you lend Saucy Jane to us Alf?"
Alf produced a passable copy of George's expression and expressed similar doubts as to Peter's efficiency. But they agreed that Peter should have a rowing trial immediately after breakfast.
"And talking of breakfast it's time we were getting back," said George. "Where's Tim? Timmy! Leave that fish alone, you bad dog! Don't you dare roll in it!"
Timmy, twenty yards away, about to sink a guilty shoulder into the delicious remains of a washed up and decomposing eel, paused, decided it was in his best interests to obey and galloped towards them as if stinky fish was the last thing on his mind.
"Have we time to go back through the village?" Nicola asked. "I'd love a quick look."
"Well, it'll have to be really quick," said George. "Father hates us to be late for breakfast."
They said goodbye to Alf and George led the way up the beach running a little ahead of Peter and Nicola with Timmy at her heels.
"Do you think she ever says a straightforward yes to anything?" Peter muttered to Nicola.
"Just what I was thinking," said Nicola. "Although I sort of like her, don't you?"
"Sort of," replied Peter cautiously. "Hang on, George! Give us a chance to catch up!"
Nicola thought that the village centre with its half dozen shops and small cottages leaning into each other along the little street was picture postcard pretty and said so, quite expecting George to dismiss what she said as silly. But George said quite nicely:
"I love it here. It's the best place in the world. Hello, who's that waving to us?"
"It's the man on the beach," observed Peter looking at the tall blond man who had just stepped out of the Seal's Head on the other side of the road. "Remember? Duffle coat, fair hair? But why on earth should he recognise us?"
"Lawrie! Hullo, there! Don't you remember me?"
"Oh," said Nicola, light dawning. "Oh, you must be - "
She searched for his name.
"Rodney Stone," he supplied, looking puzzled. "We met on the cliffs yesterday and - "
"I'm not Lawrie, though. I'm her twin."
"Ah," he said. "That makes perfect sense. You are alike, aren't you? How do you do, Nicola? And are these your brothers? Lawrie told me you were visiting your uncle and aunt. Your famous uncle, that is, of course."
"This is Peter and this is George," Nicola replied guardedly not feeling in the least inclined to offer more information than she needed to.
Rodney Stone offered all three of them a broad and friendly smile. Nicola, taking a swift glance at the others, saw that Peter had become inscrutable and George - in spite of being taken for a boy which would surely normally guarantee a cordial response - was wearing her second best scowl. Timmy had his hackles up.
"Come on," said George abruptly. "We're going to be late."
"I can't tempt you to a nice early morning hot chocolate, then? No? Perhaps another time. Please tell Lawrie how much I enjoyed meeting her. Goodbye until we meet again."
He lifted a hand in an affable way and the children hurried on down the street.
"What a creep!" declared Peter as they jogged the last few hundred yards to Kirrin Cottage.
"And Lawrie liked him!" said Nicola. "Honestly, I despair sometimes."
"Well, she was lost," Peter said. "Lawrie wouldn't notice if he was Jack the Ripper if she was in one of her panics."
"Timmy didn't like him at all," said George firmly. "And Timmy is never wrong about people."