Five have a wonderful time
The Five’s holiday begins peacefully enough on a camping site where they are staying in two old gypsy caravans. But things start to happen when the fair-folk arrive.
Ruined Faynights Castle also proves a great attraction to the Five, particularly when they see a face at the tower window — and there is no way up to the tower…
This is the Five’s eleventh adventure
Enid Blyton
Five have a wonderful time
The Famous Five - 11
ePub r1.2
Titivillus 27.08.2020
Título original: Five have a wonderful time
Enid Blyton, 1952
Ilustraciones: Eileen Alice Soper
Diseño de cubierta: Eileen Alice Soper
Editor digital: Titivillus
ePub base r2.1
Chapter One
George is all alone
“I do think it’s mean,” said George, fiercely. “Why can’t I go when the others do? I’ve had two weeks at home, and haven’t seen the others since school broke up. And now they’re off for a wonderful fortnight and I’m not with them.”
“Don’t be silly, George,” said her mother. “You can go as soon as that cold of yours is better.”
“It’s better now,” said George, scowling. “Mother, you know it is!”
“That’s enough, Georgina,” said her father, looking up from his newspaper. “This is the third breakfast-time we’ve had this argument. Be quiet.”
George would never answer anyone when she was called Georgina — so, much as she would have liked to say something back, she pursed up her mouth and looked away.
Her mother laughed. “Oh, George, dear! Don’t look so terribly fierce. It was your own fault you got this cold — you would go and bathe and stay in far too long — and after all, it’s only the third week in April!”
“I always bathe in April,” said George, sulkily.
“I said BE QUIET,” said her father, banging down his paper on the table. “One more word from you, George, and you won’t go to your three cousins at all.”
“Woof,” said Timmy, from under the table. He didn’t like it when anyone spoke angrily to George.
“And don’t you start arguing with me, either,” said George’s father, poking Timmy with his toe, and scowling exactly like George.
His wife laughed again. “Oh, be quiet, the two of you,” she said. “George, be patient dear. I’ll let you go off to your cousins as soon as ever I can — tomorrow, if you’re good, and don’t cough much today.”
“Oh, Mother — why didn’t you say so before?” said George, her scowl disappearing like magic. “I didn’t cough once in the night. I’m perfectly all right today. Oh, if I can go off to Faynights Castle tomorrow, I promise I won’t cough once today!”
“What’s this about Faynights Castle?” demanded her father, looking up again. “First I’ve heard of it!”
“Oh no, Quentin dear, I’ve told you at least three times,” said his wife. “Julian, Dick and Anne have been lent two funny old caravans by a school friend. They are in a field near Faynights Castle.”
“Oh. So they’re not staying in a castle, then,” said George’s father. “Can’t have that. I won’t have George coming home all high and mighty.”
“George couldn’t possibly be high and mighty,” said his wife. “It’s as much as I can do to get her to keep her nails clean and wear clean shorts. Do be sensible, Quentin. You know perfectly well that George and her cousins always like to go off on extraordinary holidays together.”
“And have adventures,” grinned George, who was now in a very good temper indeed at the thought of going to join her cousins the next day.
“No. You’re not to have any of those awful adventures this time,” said her mother. “Anyway, I don’t see how you can, staying in a peaceful place like the village of Faynights Castle, living in a couple of old caravans.”
“I wouldn’t trust George anywhere,” said her husband. “Give her just a sniff of an adventure, and she’s after it. I never knew anyone like George. Thank goodness we’ve only got one child. I don’t feel as if I could cope with two or three Georges.”
“There are plenty of people like George,” said his wife. “Julian and Dick for instance. Always in the middle of something or other — with Anne tagging behind, longing for a peaceful life.”
“Well, I’ve had enough of this argument,” said George’s father, pushing his chair out vigorously, and accidentally kicking Timmy under the table. He yelped.
“That dog’s got no brains,” said the impatient man. “Lies under the table at every meal and expects me to remember he’s there! Well, I’m going to do some work.”
He went out of the room. The dining-room door banged. Then the study door banged. Then a window was shut with a bang. A fire was poked very vigorously. There was the creak of an armchair as someone sat down in it heavily. Then there was silence.
“Now your father’s lost to the world till lunchtime,” said George’s mother. “Dear, oh dear — I’ve told him at least three times about Faynights Castle, where your cousins are staying, bless him. Now, George, I do really think you can go tomorrow, dear — you look so much better today. You can get your things ready and I’ll pack them this afternoon.”
“Thank you, Mother,” said George, giving her a sudden hug. “Anyway, Father will be glad to have me out of the house for a bit! I’m too noisy for him!”
“You’re a pair!” said her mother, remembering the slammed doors and other things. “You’re both a perfect nuisance at times, but I couldn’t bear to do without you! Oh, Timmy, are you still under the table? I wish you wouldn’t leave your tail about so! Did I hurt you?”
“Oh, he doesn’t mind you treading on it, Mother,” said George, generously. “I’m going to get my things ready this very minute. How do I get to Faynights Castle? By train?”
“Yes. I’ll take you to Kirrin Station, and you can catch the ten-forty,” said her mother. “You change at Limming Ho, and take the train that goes to Faynights. If you send a card to Julian, he’ll get it tomorrow morning and will meet you.”
“I’ll write it now,” said George, happily. “Oh, Mother, I began to be afraid this awful cold would hang on all through the holidays! I shan’t bathe again on such a cold day in April.”
“You said that last year — and the year before that too,” said her mother. “You have a very short memory, George!”
“Come on, Timmy!” said George, and the two of them went out of the door like a whirlwind. It slammed behind them, and the house shook.
At once the study door opened and an angry voice yelled loudly. “Who’s that slamming doors when I’m at work? Can’t ANYBODY in this house shut a door quietly?”
George grinned as she fled upstairs. The biggest slammer-of-doors was her father, but he only heard the slams made by other people. George turned her writing-case inside out to find a post-card. She must post it at once or Julian wouldn’t get it — and it would be so nice to have all her three cousins meeting her!
“We’re off tomorrow,” she told Timmy, who looked up at her and wagged his tail vigorously. “Yes, you’re coming too, of course — then the Five will all be together again. The Famous Five! You’ll like that, won’t you, Tim? So shall I!”
She scribbled the post-card and flew down to post it. Slam went the front door, and her father almost jumped out of his skin. He was a very clever and hard-working scientist, impatient, hot-tempered, kindly and very forgetful. How he wished his daughter was not so exactly like him, but was like his quiet, gentle little niece Anne!
George posted the card. It was short and to the point.
‘Cold gone. Coming tomorrow. Arriving 12.5 so make sure you all meet me and Timmy. Our tails are well up, I can tell you!
George turned out her drawers and began to pick out the things she wanted to take with her. Her mother came to help. There was always an argument about packing, because George wanted to take as little as possible, and no warm things at all, and her mother had exactly opposite ideas.
However, between the two of them they managed to pack the suit-case full of quite sensible things. George refused as usual to take a dress of any sort.
“I wonder when you’ll grow out of wanting to be a boy, and of acting like one!” said her mother, exasperated. “All right, all right — take those awful old shorts if you want to, and that red jersey. But you are to pack those warm vests. I put them in once, and you took them out. And you must take a warm rug, Julian says. The caravans are not very warm this weather.”
“I wonder what they’re like,” said George, stuffing the vests in. “They’re funny, old-fashioned ones, Julian said in his letter. Perhaps they’re like the gypsies have — not the modern, stream-lined ones that are pulled along by cars.”
“You’ll see tomorrow,” said her mother. “Oh, George — you’re coughing again!”
“Just the dust, that’s all,” said George going purple in the face trying to hold back the tickle in her throat. She drank a glass of water in a hurry. It would be too dreadful if her mother said she wasn’t to go after all!
However, her mother really did think that George was better. She had been in bed for a week, making a terrible fuss, and being a very difficult patient. Now, after being up for a few days she really seemed herself again.
“It will do her good to get down to Faynights and it’s good strong air,” thought her mother. “She needs company again, too — she doesn’t like having to be all alone, knowing the others are holidaying without her.”
George felt happy that evening. Only one more night and she would be off to a fortnight’s caravanning! If only the weather was good, what a fine time they would have!
Suddenly the telephone shrilled out. R-r-r-r-r-r-ring! R-r-r-r-r-ring!
George’s mother went to answer it. “Hallo!” she said. “Oh — it’s you, Julian. Is everything all right?”
George sped out into the hall at once. Oh, surely, surely, nothing had happened! Surely Julian wasn’t ringing to tell her not to come! She listened breathlessly.
“What’s that you say, Julian? I can’t make out what you’re talking about, dear. Yes, of course, your uncle is all right. Why shouldn’t he be? No, he hasn’t disappeared. Julian, what are you talking about?”
George listened impatiently. What was all this? But it turned out to be something quite ordinary, really. When at last her mother put down the receiver, she told George.
“Don’t hop about like that, George. It’s quite all right, you can go tomorrow. Julian was only ringing up to make sure that your father wasn’t one of the scientists who have suddenly disappeared. Apparently in tonight’s paper there is a short report about two that have completely vanished — and dear old Julian wanted to make sure your father was here safely!”
“As if Father would vanish!” said George, scornfully. “Julian must be mad! It’s just two more of those silly scientists who are disloyal to this country, and disappear to another country to sell our secrets! I could have told Julian that!”
Chapter Two
All together again
Next morning, on a dewy hillside a good distance from Kirrin, where George lived, two boys leapt down the steps of a caravan, and went to one nearby. They rapped on the door.
“Anne! Are you awake? It’s a heavenly day!”
“Of course I’m awake!” cried a voice. “The door’s unlocked. Come in. I’m getting breakfast.”
Julian and Dick pushed open the blue-painted door. Anne was standing at a little stove at one end of her caravan, boiling eggs in a saucepan.
“I can’t look round,” she said. “I’m timing them by my watch. One minute more to go.”
“The postman has just brought a card from George,” said Julian. “She says her tail and Timmy’s are both well up! I’m glad she’s coming at last — and old Timmy too.”
“We’ll all go and meet her,” said Anne, still with her eyes on her watch. “Twenty seconds more.”
“We only came here ourselves three days ago,” said Dick. “So she hasn’t really missed much. Surely those eggs will be hard-boiled, Anne!”
Anne stopped looking at her watch. “No, they won’t. They’ll be just right.” She scooped them out of the little saucepan with a big spoon. “Put them in the egg-cups, Dick. There they are — just under your nose.”
Dick picked an egg up from the plate on which Anne had placed them. It was so hot that he dropped it with a yell, and it broke its shell. Yolk flowed out of it.
“DICK! You saw me take it out of boiling water!” said Anne. “Now I’ve got to do another. It’s a pity old Timmy isn’t here. He’d soon have licked that broken egg up from the floor and saved me clearing up the mess.”
“We’ll eat our breakfast sitting on the steps of your caravan, Anne,” said Julian. “The sun’s so lovely.”
So they all sat there, eating boiled eggs, well-buttered bread, with chunky, home-made marmalade afterwards, and then juicy apples. The sun shone down and Julian took off his coat.
Their two caravans were set on a sloping, grassy hillside. A tall hedge grew behind, and kept off the wind. Primroses ran in a pale gold streak under the hedge, and brilliant celandines shone in the sun, turning their polished faces towards it.
Not far off were three more caravans, but they were modern ones. The people staying in those were not yet up, and the doors were fast shut. The three children had had no chance of making friends with them.
On the opposite hill rose an old, ruined castle, whose great walls still defied the gales that sometimes blew over the hills. It had four towers. Three were very much broken, but the fourth looked almost complete. The windows were slitholes, made centuries back when archers shot their arrows from them.
A very steep pathway led up to the castle. At the top of it was a gateway, enormously strong, built of big white blocks of stone. The gateway was now filled by a great screen of wrought-iron to prevent anyone entering, and the only entrance was by a small tower in which was a narrow door. Here there was a turnstile through which visitors might go to see the old castle.
A high, strong wall ran all round the castle, still standing after so many years. Bits of the top of it had fallen down the hill and lay half-buried in grass and weeds. It had once been a magnificent old castle, built on the high, steep hill for safety, a place from which the castle guards might see the country easily for miles around.
As Julian said, anyone up in one of the towers, or even on the wall, would be able to see enemies approaching from seven counties. There would be plenty of time to shut the great gate, man the walls, and get ready to withstand quite a long siege if necessary.