Blyton, Enid – Famous Five 14 – Five Have Plenty of Fun

‘But what about clothes?’ she said, remembering this point with a look of horror. ‘Girls look frightful in boys’ clothes. Pops always said so till now.’

‘You won’t look any worse than George does,’ said Dick. ‘She’s got on a boy’s jersey, boy’s jeans and boy’s shoes this very minute!’

‘I think she looks awful,’ said Berta, obstinately, and George scowled.

‘Well, I think you’d look horrible,’ she said. ‘You wouldn’t even look like a boy, you’d look little-girlish, silly little sissy-boy. I think it’s a fatheaded idea to put you into boys’ clothes!’

‘Aha! Our George wants to be the only one!’ said Dick, slyly, and quickly got out of the way of a punch from the furious George.

‘Well,’ said Julian, ‘I’ll go out and buy some things for Berta this morning, so that’s settled. What about her hair? Shall I cut it short?’

Aunt Fanny was amused at Julian’s high-handed way of dealing with Berta and her troubles, and even more amused to see that Berta did not even argue with Julian.

‘You can certainly go shopping for Berta if you like,’ she said. ‘But I’d rather you didn’t cut her hair. You’d make her look a scarecrow!’

‘I don’t mind if Julian cuts it,’ said Berta, surprisingly meek all at once.

‘I shall cut it for you myself,’ said Aunt Fanny. ‘Now – what about a boy’s name? We can’t call you Berta any more, that’s certain.’

‘I’d rather not have a boy’s name,’ said Berta. ‘It’s silly for a girl to be called by a boy’s name, like George.’

‘If you mean to be rude to me, I’ll …’ began George, but got no farther. Julian and Dick had burst into laughter.

‘Oh George – you and Berta will be the death of us!’ said Julian. ‘Here are you doing all you can to pretend to be a boy – and here is Berta doing all she can to get out of it? For goodness’ sake, let’s settle the matter without any more bickering. We’ll call Berta Robert.’

‘No – that’s too like Berta,’ said Dick. ‘It ought to be a completely different name. We’ll call her a good plain boy’s name like Jim or Tom or John.’

‘No,’ said Berta. ‘I don’t like any of them. Let me have my second name, please.’

‘What’s that? Another girl’s name?’ asked Julian.

‘Yes. But it’s used for a boy too, only then it’s spelt differently,’ said Berta. ‘It’s Lesley. It’s a nice name, I think.’

‘Lesley. Yes – it rather suits you,’ said Julian. ‘It suits you better than Berta. We’ll call you Lesley – and people will think it’s Leslie spelt l-i-e at the end, and not l-e-y. All right. Everything’s settled.’

‘Not quite,’ said his aunt. ‘I just want to say that you mustn’t let Berta – I mean Lesley – out of your sight at all. And you must report at once any mysterious happening or any stranger you see. The local police here know that we have Lesley with us, and why – and anything can be reported to them at once. They also are keeping a good lookout, of course.’

‘This almost sounds as if we’re in the middle of an adventure!’ said Dick, looking pleased.

‘I hope not,’ said his aunt. ‘I don’t imagine that anyone will ever guess Berta – I mean Lesley – is anything more than she will appear to be – a boy friend of yours and Julian’s, come to stay for a while. Dear me, it’s going to be dificult to refer to HER and HIM all the time!’

‘It certainly is,’ said Julian, standing up. ‘If you’ll give me some money, Aunt Fanny, I’ll go and do a little shopping for Lesley. What size do you think HE needs?’

Everyone laughed. ‘HE wears size three shoes,’ said Joan, smiling. ‘I noticed that this morning.’

‘And HE will have to get used to doing his coat buttons up on the right-hand side instead of on the left,’ said Anne, joining in the fun.

‘SHE will soon get used to that?’ said George. ‘Won’t SHE, Timmy?’

‘Don’t spoil it all now, George,’ said Julian. ‘A slip of the tongue, saying SHE instead of HE, might lead to danger for her – I mean Lesley.’

‘Yes, I know,’ said George. ‘It’s just that she’ll never look like a boy, and…’

‘I don’t want to look like a boy,’ said Berta. ‘I think you look…’

‘Here we go again!’ said Julian. ‘Stop it, Lesley, stop it, George. George, you’d better come out and help me to get the things for Lesley. Come on. And take that scowl off your face. You look like a sulky girl!’

That made George alter her face at once. She couldn’t help grinning at the artful Julian.

‘I’m coming,’ she said, ‘Good-bye, Berta. When we come back, you’ll be Leslie, haircut and all!’

She and Julian went off. Anne fetched her aunt’s sharpest scissors and draped a big towel round Berta’s shoulders. Berta looked as if she was going to cry.

‘Cheer up,’ said Dick. ‘You’re going to look angelic with short hair! Begin, Aunt Fanny. Let’s see what she’s like with shorn locks.’

‘Sit quite still,’ said Aunt Fanny and began. Clip-clip-clip! The wavy golden hair fell to the floor in big strands and Berta began to weep in earnest. ‘My hair! I can’t bear this. Oh, my hair!’

Soon most of it was on the floor, and Aunt Fanny began to clip what was left as best she could, to make it look as boyish as possible. She made a very good job of it indeed. Dick and Anne watched with the greatest interest.

‘There! It’s done!’ said Aunt Fanny at last. ‘Stop crying, Lesley – and let’s have a look at you!’

Chapter Eight

A TRANSFORMATION

Berta stood in the middle of the floor, blinking her tears away. Anne gave a gasp.

‘You know – it’s very odd – but she does look rather like a boy – a very, very good-looking boy!’

‘An angelic boy,’ said Dick. ‘A choirboy or something. She looks smashing! Who would have thought it?’

Aunt Fanny was very struck with Berta’s appearance too. ‘It’s certainly very odd,’ she said. ‘But there’s no doubt about it – when she’s – I mean he’s – dressed in boy’s clothes, he’ll make a fine boy. Better than George, actually, because her hair’s really too curly for a boy.’

Berta went to the looking-glass on the wall. She gave a wail. ‘I look awful! I don’t know myself! Nobody would EVER recognize me!’

‘Splendid!’ said Dick, at once. ‘You’ve hit the nail right on the head. Nobody would recognize you now. Your father was quite right to say, cut your hair off and dress up as a boy. Any prowling kidnapper would never think you were Berta, the pretty little girl.’

‘I’d rather be kidnapped than look like this,’ wept Berta. ‘What will the girls at your school say, Anne, when they see me?’

‘They don’t say anything to George about her short hair, and they won’t say anything to you,’ said Anne.

‘Stop crying, Bert – er – Lesley,’ said Aunt Fanny. ‘You make me feel quite miserable. You’ve been very good to stand so still all that time. Now I really must think of a little reward for you.’

Berta stopped crying at once. ‘Please,’ she said, ‘there’s only one thing I want now. I want Sally-dog to sleep with me.’

‘Oh dear, Ber – er Lesley – I really can’t have another dog in that little bedroom,’ said poor Aunt Fanny. ‘And George would make things most unpleasant if I did.’

‘Aunt Fanny – Sally is a very very good guard for me,’ said Berta. ‘She barks at the very slightest sound. I’d feel safe with her in the bedroom.’

‘I’d like you to have her,’ said Aunt Fanny, ‘but…’

Joan had come into the room to put away some things and had heard the conversation. She stared in admiration at Berta’s neat golden head, and then made a suggestion. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Mam,’ she said, ‘Miss Berta could have her camp-bed in my room. I don’t mind the dog a bit, she can have her and welcome, he’s a pet, that little poodle. It’s very crowded in the girls’ room now, with three beds in it, and my room’s a nice big one. So, if Miss Berta doesn’t mind sharing it, she’s welcome.’

‘Oh Joan – that’s good of you,’ said Aunt Fanny, relieved at such a simple solution. ‘Also, your room is up in the attic – it would be very difficult for kidnappers to find their way there – and nobody would think of looking into your room for one of the children.’

‘Thank you, Joan, you’re just wunnerful!’ said Berta, in delight. ‘Sally, do you hear that? You’ll be sleeping on my feet tonight, like Timmy does on George’s.’

‘I don’t really approve of that, you know, Berta,’ said Aunt Fanny. ‘Oh dear – I called you Berta again. Lesley, I mean. What a muddle I’m going to get into! Anne, get the dustpan and sweep up the hair on the floor.’