‘Do you mean to say your father doesn’t think these are good doesn’t think it’s worth while to let you train as an artist?’ he said, in surprise.
‘He hates my pictures,’ said Martin, bitterly. ‘I ran away from school, and went to an art-school to train —but he found me and forbade me to think of drawing any more. He thinks it’s a weak, feeble thing for a man to do. So I only do it in secret now.’ The children looked at Martin with sympathy. It seemed an awful thing to them that a boy who had no mother, should have a father who hated the thing his son most loved. No wonder he always looked dull and miserable and sullen! ‘It’s very bad luck,’ said Julian at last. ‘I wish we could do something to help.’ ‘Well — get me those figures and the paint tins from the coastguard,’ said Martin, eagerly. ‘Will you? Father won’t be back till six. I’ll have time to do them. And do stay and have tea with me. It’s so dull up here. I hate it.’ ‘Yes, I’ll get the things for you,’ said Julian. ‘I can’t for the life of me see why you shouldn’t have something to amuse yourself with if you want to. And we’ll ring up my aunt and tell her we’re staying here to tea — so long as we don’t eat everything you’ve got!’ ‘Oh, that’s all right,’ said Martin, looking very cheerful indeed. ‘There’s plenty of food in the house. My father has an enormous appetite. I say, thanks most awfully.’ Julian rang up his aunt. The girls and Dick went to fetch the figures and the paint from the coastguard. They brought them back and arranged them on a table beside Martin. His eyes brightened at once. He seemed quite different.
‘This is grand,’ he said. ‘Now I can get on! It’s a silly little job, this, but it will help the old man next door, and I’m always happy when I’m messing about with a brush and paints!’ Martin was very, very clever at painting the little figures. He was quick and deft, and Anne sat watching him, quite fascinated. George went to hunt in the larder for the tea-things. There was certainly plenty of food! She cut some bread and butter, found some new honey, brought out a huge chocolate cake and some ginger buns, and put the kettle on to boil.
‘I say, this is really grand,’ said Martin again. ‘I wish my father wasn’t coming back till eight. By the way — where’s the dog? I thought he always went everywhere with you! Where’s Timmy?’
Chapter Fourteen
A SHOCK FOR GEORGE
DICK looked at George. He didn’t think it would matter telling Martin where Timmy was, so long as George didn’t give the reason why he had been left on the island.
But George was going to hold her tongue now. She looked at Martin and spoke quite airily. ‘Oh, Timmy? We left him behind today. He’s all right.’ ‘Gone out shopping with your mother, I suppose, hoping for a visit to the butcher’s!’ said Martin. This was the first joke he had ever made to the children, and though it was rather a feeble one they laughed heartily. Martin looked pleased. He began to try and think of another little joke, while his deft hands put reds and blues and greens on the little wooden figures.
They all had a huge tea. Then, when the clock said a quarter to six the girls carried the painted figures carefully back to the coastguard, who was delighted with them. Dick took back the little tins of paint, and the brush, stuck in a jar of turpentine.
‘Well now, he’s clever that boy, isn’t he?’ said the coastguard, eyeing the figures in delight. ‘Looks sort of miserable and sulky — but he’s not a bad sort of boy!’ ‘I’ll just have one more squint through your telescope,’ said George, ‘before it gets too dark.’ She tilted it towards her island. But once more there was no sign of Timmy, or of her father either. She looked for some time, and then went to join the others. She shook her head as they raised their eyebrows inquiringly.
The girls washed up the tea-things, and cleared away neatly. Nobody felt as if they wanted to wait and see Mr. Curton. They didn’t feel as if they liked him very much, now they knew how hard he was on Martin.
‘Thanks for a lovely afternoon,’ said Martin, limping to the door with them. ‘I enjoyed my spot of painting, to say nothing of your company.’ ‘You stick out for your painting,’ said Julian. ‘If it’s the thing you’ve got to do, and you know it, you must go all out for it. See?’ ‘Yes,’ said Martin, and his face went sullen again. ‘But there are things that make it difficult — things I can’t very well tell you. Oh well – never mind! I dare say it will all come right one day, and I’ll be a famous artist with pictures in the academy!’ ‘Come on, quickly,’ said Dick, in a low voice to Julian. ‘There’s his father coming back!’ They hurried off down the cliff-path, seeing Mr. Curton out of the corner of their eyes, coming up the other path.
‘Horrid man!’ said Anne. ‘Forbidding Martin to do what he really longs to do. And he seemed so nice and jolly and all-over-us, didn’t he?’ ‘Very all-over-us,’ said Dick, smiling at Anne’s new word. ‘But there are a lot of people like that — one thing at home and quite another outside!’ ‘I hope Mr. Curton hasn’t been trying to explore that passage in the side of the quarry,’ said George, looking back, and watching the man walk up to his back door. ‘It would be too bad if he butted in and spoilt our fun. I mean — there may be nothing to discover at all — but it will be fun even finding there is nothing.’ ‘Very involved!’ said Dick, with a grin. ‘But I gather what you mean. I say, that was a good tea, wasn’t it?’ ‘Yes,’ said George, looking all round her in an absent-‘minded manner.
‘What’s up?’ said Dick. ‘What are you looking like that for?’ ‘Oh – how silly of me – I was just looking for Timmy,’ said George. ‘You know, I’m so used to him always being at my heels or somewhere near that I just can’t get used to him not being here.’ ‘Yes, I feel a bit like that too,’ said Julian. ‘As if there was something missing all the time. Good old Tim! We ‘shall miss him awfully, all of us — but you most of all, ‘George.’ ‘Yes. Especially on my bed at night,’ said George. ‘I shan’t be able to go to sleep for ages and ages.’ ‘I’ll wrap a cushion up in a rug and plonk it down on your feet when you’re in bed,’ said Dick. ‘Then it will ‘feel like Timmy!’ ‘It won’t! Don’t be silly,’ said George, rather crossly. And anyway it wouldn’t smell like him. He’s got a lovely smell.’ ‘Yes, a Timmy-smell,’ agreed Anne. ‘I like it too.’ The evening went very quickly, playing the endless game of monopoly again. Julian lay in bed later, watching for, his uncle’s signal. Needless to say, George was at the window too! They waited for half past ten.
‘Now!’ said Julian. And just as he spoke there came ‘the first flash from the lantern in the tower.
‘One,’ counted George, ‘two, three, four, five, six!’ She waited anxiously to see if there were any more, but there weren’t.
‘Now you can go to bed in peace,’ said Julian to George. ‘Your father is all right, and that means ‘that Timmy is all right too. Probably he has remembered to give Timmy a good supper, and has had some himself as well!’ ‘Well, Timmy would soon remind him, if he forgot to feed him, that’s one thing,’ said George, slipping out of the room. ‘Good night, Dick; good night, Ju! See you in the morning.’ And back she went to her own bed and snuggled down under the sheets. It was queer not to have Timmy on her feet. She tossed about for a while, missing him, and then fell asleep quite suddenly. She dreamed of her island. She was there with Timmy — and they were discovering ingots of gold down in the dungeon. What a lovely dream! Next morning dawned bright and sunny again. The April sky was as blue as the forget-me-nots coming out in the garden. George gazed out of the dining-room window at breakfast-time, wondering if Timmy was run-fling about her island.
‘Dreaming about Tim?’ said Julian, with a laugh. ‘Never mind — you’ll soon see him, George. Another hour or so and you’ll feast your eyes on him through the coastguard’s telescope!’ ‘Do you really think you’ll be able to make out Tim, if he’s in the tower with your father at half past ten?’ asked her mother. ‘I shouldn’t have thought you would be able to.’ ‘Yes, I shall, Mother,’ said George. ‘It’s a very powerful telescope, you know. I’ll just go up and make my bed, then I’ll go up the cliff-path. Anyone else coming?’ ‘I want Anne to help me with some turning out,’ said her mother. ‘I’m looking out some old clothes to give to the vicar’s wife for her jumble sale. You don’t mind helping me, Anne, do you?’ ‘No, I’d like to,’ said Anne at once. ‘What are the boys going to do?’ ‘I think I must do a bit of my holiday work this morning,’ said Julian, with a sigh. ‘I don’t want to -but I’ve kept on putting it off. You’d better do some too, Dick. You know what you are — you’ll leave it all to the last day if you’re not careful!’ ‘All right. I’ll do some too,’ said Dick. ‘You won’t mind scooting up to the coastguard’s cottage alone, will you, George?’ ‘Not a bit,’ said George. ‘I’ll come back just after half past ten, as soon as I’ve spotted Timmy and Father.’ She disappeared to make her bed. Julian and Dick went to fetch some books. Anne went to make her bed too, and then came down to help her aunt. In a few minutes George yelled good-bye and rushed out of the house.