The Circus of Adventure Read online

  The larder was full of food! Mrs Ellis, the farmer’s wife, had certainly remembered them generously. Mrs Cunningham heaved a sigh of relief as she looked at the ham and bacon, eggs and milk. Housekeeping was not going to be the nightmare she had expected!

  ‘You two girls unpack everything,’ she said. ‘We’ve not brought much with us, so it won’t take you long. Arrange the boys’ things in the big chest in their room – there’s enough room for the clothes of all three there.’

  ‘I cannot slip with others,’ announced Gustavus, coming down the stairs into the hall, where the girls and Mrs Cunningham were undoing the suitcases. ‘Never have I slipt with others.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ said Dinah. ‘Nobody wants you to slip. Why should you?’

  ‘He means sleep,’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘Don’t you, Gussy?’

  ‘It is what I said,’ said Gussy. ‘I may not slip with others. At school I slipt by myself. Here I will slip by myself also. It iss the rule of my family.’

  ‘Well, it isn’t the rule here,’ said Dinah. ‘Get off those shirts, Gus. And don’t be an ass. There are only three bedrooms, anyway.’

  ‘What’s the argument?’ said Bill, coming in after putting the car into a shed, and seeing Gussy’s frowning face.

  ‘It’s Gus,’ said Dinah, piling her arms full of clothes. ‘He’s just announced he wants to sleep by himself. Says it’s the rule of his family. Who does he think he is? A prince?’

  Gussy opened his mouth to reply, and Bill hurriedly interrupted what he was going to say. ‘Gus, you’ll sleep with the two boys here. Understand?’

  ‘I slip alone,’ said Gus, obstinately. ‘Never have I …’

  ‘There’s a tiny little box-room he could have,’ said Dinah, suddenly, a gleam in her eye. ‘I saw it just now, when I was upstairs. He could “slip” there. I’m sure he won’t mind the dozens of colossal spiders there – ugh, they’ve all got hairy legs. And I heard a mouse – or it might have been a rat – scuttling behind the cistern – and …’

  Gus looked horrified. ‘No. I do not slip with spiders and mouses,’ he said. ‘But still it is not right that I should slip with Philip and Jack. And I will not slip with that wicket bird.’

  ‘Come in here a minute, Gus,’ said Bill, and he took the boy firmly by the shoulder, led him into the sitting room and shut the door. The two girls heard a murmur of voices, and looked at one another in surprise.

  ‘Mother, what’s all the fuss about?’ said Dinah, puzzled. ‘Why doesn’t Bill put that silly young Gus in his place? If he’s going to be high and mighty all the time, and give his orders, and act in such an idiotic way, we’re all going to hate him.’

  ‘Leave it to Bill,’ said her mother, and then changed the subject. ‘Take those things up, Dinah – and Lucy-Ann, put these things in my room, will you? Now, did I pack Bill’s set of pipes, or didn’t I?’

  The girls went upstairs. ‘Mother’s as mysterious about Gus as Bill is,’ said Dinah, crossly. ‘Is there some mystery about him? Can he be a Prince in disguise, or something?’

  ‘What! A funny little boy like him!’ said Lucy-Ann, in disgust. ‘Of COURSE not!’

  6

  Mostly about Gussy

  It was fun settling in at Quarry Cottage. Mrs Cunningham was pleased and happy. She hadn’t been looking forward to a holiday for seven people, five of them children, knowing that she would have to do everything for them, and that perhaps the shopping would be difficult.

  But it was easy. The village was not too far away, even for walking purposes. The farmhouse was willing to supply a wonderful selection of good food. Mrs Gump, the tiny little charwoman, came every day, and was cheerful and hardworking. She also liked children, which was a great blessing.

  She didn’t like Gussy, though. ‘He orders me about, that one,’ she complained. ‘He even wanted me to go upstairs and fetch his handkerchief for him, Mam. He’s staying with you, isn’t he? Well, I’m not going to be ordered about by anyone, specially not little nippers like that.’

  Gussy was very difficult those first days. He didn’t like this and he didn’t like that. He complained if he was given a cracked plate. He absolutely refused to make his bed, though it was a rule in the house that everyone should make their own.

  ‘I do not make beds,’ he announced, in his haughtiest manner. ‘Mrs Gump shall make my bed.’

  ‘Mrs Gump shall not,’ said Dinah, firmly. ‘You go and make your own – and for goodness’ sake don’t make such a fuss, Gussy.’

  ‘Fussy-Gussy, Fussy-Gussy!’ chanted Kiki, in delight. ‘Fussy-Gussy, Fussy …’

  Gus caught up a book and flung it at Kiki. The bird dodged easily, sat on the back of a chair and cackled with laughter. Gus was just about to pick up another book when he found himself on his back on the floor.

  Dinah had put up with enough from Gussy. She had now lost her temper, and was showing him how well she could do it! She banged his head on the floor, and he yelled the place down.

  Mrs Cunningham came in at once. ‘Dinah! What are you thinking of? Get up at once. Go upstairs and stay there till I come to you.’

  ‘He flung a book at Kiki,’ panted Dinah, rising up red and angry. Gussy still lay on the floor, and the tears ran down his cheeks.

  ‘Get up, Gussy,’ said Mrs Cunningham. ‘I’m just as cross with you as I am with Dinah. Go up to your room too, and stay there.’

  ‘You cannot order me,’ said Gussy, with as much dignity as he could manage through his tears. ‘Send this girl back home. And that wicket bird.’

  ‘GO TO YOUR ROOM!’ said Mrs Cunningham in such a furious voice that Gussy leapt to his feet, tore up the stairs, went into his room, slammed the door and turned the key!

  Bill came in. ‘It’s Gussy again,’ said his wife. ‘He’s such a little fathead. I hope this is going to work out all right, Bill. I think we should have thought of some other idea. The others don’t understand, you see. Can’t we tell them?’

  ‘I’ll have a word with Gussy again,’ said Bill. ‘If he doesn’t come to heel I’ll take him away by myself – but I thought it would be so much safer if he was here with all of us.’

  He went upstairs. Mrs Cunningham also went up to Dinah. Lucy-Ann was with her, arranging the clothes in the drawers. Dinah was very mutinous.

  ‘It’s all very well,’ she said, when her mother scolded her, ‘but why should Gussy spoil everything for us? He’s always interfering, always ordering us about, always wanting the best of everything for himself – and fancy DARING to try and hurt Kiki!’

  ‘I understand how you all feel,’ said her mother. ‘So does Bill. But he’s promised to keep an eye on Gussy for the next few weeks, and he must. I think perhaps it would be best if he took Gussy off somewhere, and left us here by ourselves.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ said Lucy-Ann at once. ‘No, Aunt Allie! You’ve married him, and he belongs to us now. Please don’t let him do that! Dinah, say something!’

  ‘Well – I thought, I could put up with Gussy, rather than have Bill leave us,’ said Dinah. ‘But – but – oh dear, I can’t promise not to go for Gussy. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself! And I can’t possibly let Bill go away either.’

  ‘Well, stay here by yourself for an hour and make up your mind,’ said her mother, losing patience. ‘Lucy-Ann, come downstairs with me.’

  Nobody told Jack or Philip about Gussy flinging a book at Kiki. Kiki didn’t forget though! She plagued the life out of poor Gussy! He never knew when she was under the table ready to tweak his toes at the end of his sandals. He never knew when she would hide in his bedroom and wait for him to come up. Then she would produce one of her extraordinary noises and send him downstairs in a panic at top speed!

  ‘Well, if Bill didn’t punish him – and I don’t think he did – Kiki’s doing it all right!’ said Dinah to Lucy-Ann. ‘Anyway, Gussy is certainly better. I wish he wasn’t coming on the picnic with us today, though.’

  A picnic had been arranged for e
veryone on Sugar-Loaf Hill. It was really the name that had attracted the children – Sugar-Loaf Hill! What a lovely name!

  They set off together, Bill and the boys carrying the food in satchels on their backs. Gus had made a fuss, of course. He seemed to think that it was a great indignity to carry something on his back.

  ‘Never haf I done this before,’ he protested. ‘In my country it is the – how do you call it? – donkeys who carry for us. Why do you not haf donkeys? I will not be a donkey.’

  He was puzzled at the shouts of laughter that greeted this speech. ‘Oh, Gus – you’ll be the death of me,’ said Jack. ‘Do you mean to say you didn’t know you were a donkey?’

  ‘It is bad to call me that,’ said Gussy, frowning. ‘In my country you would …’

  ‘Oh, gee-up, donkey, and stop fussing,’ said Philip, giving Gussy a shove. ‘Leave your satchel behind, if you like. No one will mind. It’s got your lunch in, but nobody else’s! We’re carrying the girls’ lunch, and Bill’s got Mother’s. You’ve only got your own.’

  ‘So chuck it into the bushes, then you won’t have to carry it like a donkey,’ said Dinah, with a squeal of laughter. ‘Go on, Gus!’

  But Gus didn’t. He thought better of it, and took the satchel of food on his back, though he looked extremely annoyed about it.

  Sugar-Loaf Hill was just like its name – it was very like a sugar-loaf, cone shaped but flat at the top, and was covered with primroses, cowslips and dog-violets.

  ‘We ought to be able to see quite a good way from the top,’ said Jack, as they toiled up. It was a stiff pull up but at last they were at the top. A strong breeze blew round them, but the sun was hot, so it was very pleasant to feel the wind blowing by.

  ‘I say! Gussy carried his lunch after all!’ said Jack, pretending to be surprised. ‘My word, I’m hungry.’

  They all were. They ate every single thing they had brought, and Kiki had a good share, too, especially of the bananas. She loved holding a banana in one foot and biting big pieces off it.

  Gussy sneezed. Kiki immediately sneezed too, a much bigger sneeze than Gussy’s. Then Gussy sniffed, a little habit he had which annoyed Mrs Cunningham very much.

  Kiki sniffed too. ‘Stop it, Kiki,’ said Mrs Cunningham. ‘One sniffer is quite enough.’

  ‘Polly’s got a cold,’ said Kiki, and sniffed again, exactly like Gussy. Gussy took no notice but after a minute he suddenly sniffed again.

  ‘Blow your nose!’ shouted Kiki. ‘Where’s your hanky! Gussy’s got a cold, send for …’

  ‘Be quiet, Kiki,’ said Jack. ‘Gussy, don’t keep sniffing. If you do, you’ll set Kiki off and she’ll do nothing but sniff too.’

  ‘I do not sniff,’ said Gussy. ‘That bird is wicket and too clever. It should have a cage.’

  ‘Shut up, Gus,’ said Bill, who was now leaning back, enjoying a pipe. ‘Remember what I said to you.’

  Gus apparently remembered. He subsided and lay back and closed his eyes. The others sat and looked at the view. It was marvellous, for they could see a great way off.

  ‘That’s the village over there,’ said Philip, pointing. ‘And there’s the farmhouse. And you can just see the tops of the chimneys and a bit of one end of the thatched roof belonging to Quarry Cottage. In those trees, look.’

  ‘And there’s the road we came by – the main road,’ said Jack. ‘Where are my field glasses? Would you pass them, Di. Gosh, I can see miles with these. I can see the way the main road twists and turns; I can see the traffic on it – looking just as small as the toy cars we used to have, Philip. Have a look.’

  Philip put the glasses to his eyes. They really were magnificent ones. He could see for miles, just as Jack had said. ‘Yes – it’s queer to see the cars and the lorries looking like toys, going along those ribbony roads,’ said Philip. ‘Now – there’s a black car – rather like Bill’s. I’m going to watch it and see how far I can follow it.’

  The others lay back, half asleep, listening to Philip’s voice. The sun was hot now, and they didn’t feel inclined to go walking after such a big picnuc,

  ‘Yes – it’s on the main road still,’ said Philip, staring through the glasses. ‘There it goes – a good speed too. Jolly good speed. May be a police car, perhaps.’

  ‘You can’t tell a police car so far away,’ said Jack. Bill looked up from his newspaper. He knew a lot about police cars!

  ‘Tell me its number and I’ll tell you if it’s a police car,’ he said. The boys laughed.

  ‘That’s clever of you, Bill,’ said Jack, ‘but you know jolly well you’re safe – you can’t possibly read the number at this distance. Still got the car, Philip?’

  ‘Lost it for a bit,’ said Philip. ‘It’s gone behind some buildings – no, there it is again. It’s come to crossroads – it’s gone across. Now it’s stopped.’

  Gussy gave a little snore which Kiki immediately copied. Philip went on with his car story.

  ‘A man got out – I think he must have gone back to look at the sign post. He’s got into the car again. Yes, they missed their way, they’re backing. Ah, I thought so – they’ve turned down the other road – the road that leads to our village.’

  ‘You’ll tell us it’s at Quarry Cottage next,’ said Jack, sleepily. You’re making all this up now, I bet!’

  ‘I’ve lost it again. No, here it comes,’ said Philip, pleased. Yes, it’s going through the village – down into the lane. It’s stopped again. I think they’re asking the way from someone – a labourer probably. Can’t see from here. On they go again – and they’ve turned up the farm road! They’re going to the farmhouse. Probably rich relations of Mrs Ellis.’

  Bill put down his paper abruptly and reached out for the glasses. He focused them on the farmhouse and saw the car immediately – a big one, obviously expensive. He studied it intently for a minute and then handed back the glasses without a word.

  ‘Do you know the car, Bill?’ asked Jack, curiously, seeing Bill’s expression.

  ‘No,’ said Bill. ‘I don’t. But – it just makes me think a bit, that’s all. Sorry I can’t tell you any more. I’ll wander up to the farmhouse tonight and ask a few questions – then I’ll know a bit more!’

  7

  A surprising announcement

  Philip and Jack were more interested in the car, after Bill’s remarks. They took it in turns to keep an eye on it, but it simply stayed where it was for twenty minutes, and then went away, taking the same route as it came.

  ‘It’s gone, Bill,’ said Philip. ‘I expect it was only some visitor. I say, look at Gussy! His mouth is wide open. Let’s put something into it.’

  ‘Let sleeping donkeys lie!’ said Jack. ‘And don’t put ideas into Kiki’s head! She’ll hunt around for something now to pop into Gussy’s mouth.’

  Philip looked round at everyone. Only Bill and Jack were awake besides himself. He put his hand into his pocket and brought out something – something small and brown and pretty. It sat up on his hand.

  ‘I say! You’ve got a dormouse! What a pet! said Jack. ‘Don’t let Dinah see it – she’ll have a fit.’

  ‘I got it on the way here,’ said Philip. ‘I saw it sitting on a branch and it let me pick it up.’

  ‘It would!’ said Jack, enviously. ‘You’ve got some magic about you, Philip. I’ve never seen an animal yet that didn’t come under your spell. Isn’t he a pretty little fellow?’

  ‘I’ve called him Snoozy,’ said Philip, stroking the tiny creature, whose large black eyes shone like mirrors in his head. ‘Dormice are very dozy, snoozy things. I must remember to buy some nuts from the grocer’s next time we go to the village. Snoozy will like those. We won’t tell Dinah. He’ll live comfortably in my pocket. I’ve had dormice before – they’re very tame.’

  ‘How nice to keep putting your hand in your pocket and feeling a furry dormouse there!’ said Jack. ‘Hallo – do I hear voices?’

  The boys looked in the direction of the voices. They saw two men, obvious
ly farm labourers, taking a path near the foot of the hill, talking together.

  ‘I think I’ll just scoot down and ask them if they know anything about badgers here,’ said Philip. ‘Coming, Jack?’

  The two boys ran down the hill. The men heard them coming and looked round. ‘Good afternoon,’ panted Philip. ‘Do you mind if I ask you a question or two? It’s about badgers.’

  ‘Badgers – what may they be?’ said the younger man.

  ‘Eee, man – you know badgers,’ said the older man. ‘Brocks, they be.’

  ‘Oh, the brocks,’ said the younger fellow. ‘No, I don’t know nothing about them. Never seed one in my life.’

  ‘That’s a-cause you sleeps in your bed every night!’ said the other man, with a laugh. ‘Brock, he comes out at night. I sees him many a time.’

  ‘You’re an old poacher, you are, Jeb,’ said the younger man. ‘Out at nights when honest folk are asleep. That’s how you see the brocks!’

  ‘Maybe, maybe,’ said the older man, with a twinkle in his bright eyes. He turned to the boys. ‘What are you wanting to know about the brocks?’ he said.

  ‘Well – I’d like to watch them,’ said Philip at once. ‘I’m keen on wild creatures – all kinds. I’ve not had much chance of seeing badgers, though. Where can I see them around here? We’re at Quarry Cottage.’

  ‘Ah, so that’s where you be,’ said the old man. ‘Then you’ll find old Brock not far away from you, little master. You may see him in the woods on the east side of the cottage – that’s the most likely place – or you may see him down in the old quarry. I saw a badger’s sett there – his den, you know – last year. I knew he had his hole down there by the big pile of earth he’d taken out of it.’

  ‘Yes – that’s right. He always does that,’ said Philip, wishing he could get to know this old fellow. He felt sure that he would be able to tell him many tales. ‘Well, thanks very much. We’ll watch in both places.’

  ‘There’s owls in the quarry too,’ said the old man. ‘Little owls, and barn owls and tawnies. They go there for the rats and mice. I’ve heard them – the barn owls – screeching their heads off. Frighten the life out of you, they do!’