The children sat down to a good meal. Aunt Polly was a good cook. It was a mixture of tea and supper, and the children tucked into it well. All they had had that day, since their breakfast, were the sandwiches that Mr. Roy had packed for Philip and one packet of sandwiches did not go far between three hungry children.
Dinah gave a sneeze, and the parrot spoke to her sternly. Where’s your handkerchief?
Aunt Polly looked at the bird in surprised admiration. Well, I’m always saying that to Dinah, she said. That bird seems to be a most sensible creature.
Kiki was pleased at Aunt Polly’s admiration. Poor Polly, poor dear Polly, she said, her head coyly on one side, her bright eye glinting at Aunt Polly.
Aunt Polly likes your parrot better than she likes you, whispered Philip to Jack, with a grin.
After the meal, Aunt Polly took Philip to his uncle’s study. He knocked and went in. His Uncle Jocelyn was bent over a sheaf of yellow papers, examining them with a magnifying-glass. He grunted at Philip.
So you’re back again. Behave yourself and keep out of my way. I shall be very busy these holidays.
Jocelyn, Philip has brought two children back with him and a parrot, said Aunt Polly.
A parrot? said Uncle Jocelyn. Why a parrot?
Jocelyn, that parrot belongs to one of the children that Philip brought home, said Aunt Polly. Philip wants these children to stay here.
Can’t have them. Don’t mind the parrot, said Uncle Jocelyn. Keep the parrot if you want it. Send it away if you don’t. I’m busy.
He bent over his papers again. Aunt Polly gave a sigh and shut the door. He’s so interested in the past that he forgets all about the present, she said, half to herself.
Well I suppose I must ring up Mr. Roy myself. He’ll be wondering about those children.
She went to the telephone. Philip followed close behind her, longing to know what Mr. Roy would say. Dinah peeped out from the sitting-room and Philip nodded towards the telephone. If only Mr. Roy was cross and said he would not have Jack and Lucy-Ann back! If only Aunt Polly would think the cheque was big enough to make it worth while letting them stay!
Chapter 5
SETTLING IN AT CRAGGY-TOPS
It seemed ages before Aunt Polly got through to Mr. Roy. The master was worried and puzzled. Jack and Lucy-Ann had not returned, of course, and at first he had thought they had gone off for one of their walks, and that Jack had found some unusual bird and had forgotten all about time.
But as the hours went by and still the children had not come back, he became seriously worried. It did not occur to him that they might have gone with Philip, or he would have telephoned to the boy’s aunt at once.
He was most relieved to hear Mrs. Sullivan, Philip’s aunt, speaking, giving him the news that the children were safe.
They arrived here with Philip, she said, with some sharpness. I cannot think how it was that they were allowed to do this. I cannot possibly keep them.
Mr. Roy’s heart sank. He had hoped for one wild moment that his problem concerning Jack and Lucy-Ann, and that tiresome parrot, was solved. Now it seemed as if it wasn’t.
Well, Mrs. Sullivan, said Mr. Roy politely, though he did not feel at all civil, I’m sorry about it. The children went down to see Philip off, and I suppose the boy persuaded them to go with him. It’s a pity you could not keep them for the rest of the holidays, as they would probably be happier with you and Philip. No doubt they have told you that their uncle cannot have them back these holidays. He sent me a cheque for a large sum of money, hoping I could have them. But I should be pleased to hand this over to you if you felt that you could take charge of them, and we could get Mr. Trent’s consent to it.
There was a pause. How much was the cheque? asked Mrs. Sullivan.
There was another pause after Mr. Roy told her the sum of money that had been sent. It certainly was a very generous amount. Mrs. Sullivan thought quickly. The children would not cost much to keep. She would see that they kept out of Jocelyn’s way. That girl Lucy-Ann could help Dinah with the house-work. And she would be able to pay off a few bills, which would be a great relief to her.
Mr. Roy waited hopefully at the other end of the wire. He could not bear the thought of having the parrot back again. Jack was bearable, Lucy-Ann was nice but Kiki was impossible.
Well, said Mrs. Sullivan, in the sort of voice that meant she was prepared to give in, well let me think now. It’s going to be difficult because we’ve so little room here. I mean, though the house is enormous, half of it is in ruins and most of it too draughty to live in. But perhaps we could manage. If I use the tower-room again… .
Philip and the others, who could hear everything that was being said by Mrs. Sullivan, looked at one another in delight. Aunt Polly’s giving in! whispered Philip. And oh, Jack I bet we’ll have the old tower-room for our own. I’ve always wanted to sleep there and have it for my room, but Aunt Polly would never let me.
Mrs. Sullivan, you would be doing me a great kindness if you could manage to take the children off my hands, said Mr. Roy earnestly. I will telephone at once to Mr. Trent. Leave it all to me. I will send you the cheque at once. And if you should need any more money, let me know. I really cannot tell you how obliged I should be to you if you could manage this for me. The children are quite easy to manage. Lucy-Ann is sweet. It’s only that awful parrot so rude but you could get a cage for it, perhaps.
Oh, I don’t mind the parrot, said Mrs. Sullivan, which surprised Mr. Roy very much. Kiki gave a loud squawk, which Mr. Roy heard down the telephone. Well Mrs. Sullivan must be a remarkable woman if she liked Kiki!
Not much more was said. Mrs. Sullivan said she would write to Mr. Trent, after she had heard again from Mr. Roy. In the meantime she undertook to look after the children for the rest of the holidays.
The receiver clicked as she put it down. The children heaved a sigh of relief. Philip went up to his aunt.
Oh, thanks, Aunt Polly, he said. It will be fine for me and Dinah to have friends with us. We’ll try and keep out of Uncle’s way, and help you all we can.
Dear Polly, said Kiki affectionately, and actually left Jack’s shoulder to hop on to Aunt Polly’s! The children stared in astonishment. Good old Kiki! She was playing up to Aunt Polly properly.
Silly bird! said Aunt Polly, hardly liking to show how pleased she was.
God save the King, said Kiki unexpectedly, and everyone laughed.
Philip, you and Jack must have the tower-room for your own, said Aunt Polly. Come with me, and I’ll see what can he arranged. Dinah, go to your room and see if you would rather share it with Lucy-Ann, or whether she would rather have Philip’s old room. They open out of one another, so perhaps you would like to have the two rooms.
Dinah went off happily with Lucy-Ann to look at the room. Lucy-Ann wished she was sleeping nearer to Jack. The tower-room was a good way from where she herself would sleep. Jack took Kiki and went to a high window, settling on the window-seat to watch the sea-birds in their restless soaring and gliding outside.
Philip went to the tower-room with his aunt. He felt very happy. He had become very fond of Jack and Lucy-Ann, and it was almost too good to be true to think they had come to stay with him for some weeks.
The two of them went down a cold stone passage. They came to a narrow, winding stone stairway, and climbed up the steep steps. The stairway wound round and round, and at last came out into the tower-room. This was a perfectly round room whose walls were very thick. It had three narrow windows, one facing the sea. There was no glass in at all, and the room was draughty, and full of the sound of the crying of birds, and the roaring of the waves below.
I’m afraid this room will be too cold for you two boys, said Aunt Polly, but Philip shook his head at once.
We shan’t mind that. We should have the windows wide open if there was any glass, Aunt Polly. We’ll be all right. We shall love it up here. Look there’s an old oak chest to put our things in and a wooden stool and we can bring a rug up from downstairs. We only need a mattress.