Chapter Eight

Where can George be?

Anne woke up in the night, feeling thirsty. She whispered across the room:

“George! Are you awake?”

There was no answer, so, very cautiously and quietly Anne got herself a drink from the decanter on the wash-stand. George was sometimes cross if she was awakened in the middle of the night. Anne got back into bed, not guessing that George hadn’t answered because she wasn’t there!

She fell asleep and didn’t wake till she heard Dick’s voice. “Hey, you two — get up; it’s a quarter to eight. We’re going for a bathe!”

Anne sat up, yawning. Her eyes went to George’s bed. It was empty. More than that, it was all neat and tidy, as if it had just been made!

“Well!” said Anne in astonishment. “George is up already, and has even made her bed. She might have waked me, and I could have gone out with her. It’s such a lovely day. I suppose she’s taken Timmy for an early morning walk, like she sometimes does.”

Anne slipped into her bathing costume and ran to join the boys. They went downstairs together, their bare feet padding on the carpet.

“George has gone out already,” said Anne. “I expect she woke early and took Timmy; I never even heard her!”

Julian was now at the front door. “Yes,” he said. “The door isn’t locked or bolted — George must have slipped down, undone it and then just pulled the door softly to. How very considerate of her! Last time she went out early she banged the door so hard that she woke everyone in the house!”

“She may have gone fishing in her boat,” said Dick. “She said yesterday she’d like to some early morning when the tide was right. She’ll probably arrive complete with stacks of fish for Joan to cook.”

They looked out to sea when they got to the beach. There was a boat far out on the water with what looked like two people in it, fishing.

“I bet that’s George and Timmy,” said Dick. He yelled and waved his hands, but the boat was too far away, and nobody waved back. The three of them plunged into the cold waves. Brrrr-rrr-rrr!

“Lovely!” said Anne, when they came out again, the drops of sea-water running down their bodies and glistening in the early morning sun. “Let’s have a run now.”

They chased one another up and down the beach, and then, glowing and very hungry, went back to breakfast.

“Where’s George?” asked Joan, as she brought in their breakfast. “I see her bed’s made and all — what’s come over her?”

“I think she’s out fishing with Timmy,” said Dick. “She was up and about long before we were.”

“I never heard her go,” said Joan. “She must have been very quiet. There you are now — there’s a fine breakfast for you — sausages and tomatoes and fried eggs!”

“O-o-o-o-h, lovely,” said Anne. “And you’ve done the sausages just how I like them, Joan — all bursting their skins. Do you think we’d better eat George’s too? She’s still out in the boat. She may not be back for ages.”