Chapter 5
EXCITING PLANS
BILL spent the night, unknown to Mrs. Mannering, in the little spare room. He said he would talk to her the next morning. He was relieved to find that a daily maid came in each morning, but that no one except the family slept in the house at night.
“We children do all the beds and things upstairs, now that we have recovered,” said Dinah. “So you can stay up here unseen, if you like. We’ll bring breakfast up.”
But the next morning everything was upset again. Mrs. Mannering knocked on the wall separating the girls’ room from hers, and Dinah went running in to see what the matter was.
“Dinah! The most sickening thing has happened!” said Mrs. Mannering in disgust. “I’ve got measles now — look at my spots. I thought I’d had it when I was your age — but it’s measles right enough. Oh dear, I wish I had engaged that Miss Lawson and let her take you off to Bournemouth or somewhere yesterday. Now what are we to do?”
“Oh dear!” said Dinah. Then she decided to tell her mother about Bill being there. Perhaps that would help. “I’ll get you your dressing-jacket and tidy the room,” she said briskly, “because there’s someone who wants to see you. He may help quite a lot. It’s Bill!”
“Bill!” said Mrs. Mannering, amazed. “When did he come? I waited up till eleven, but I felt so terribly tired I just had to go to bed. Well, now — I wonder if old Bill would take you off my hands for a bit and leave Hilda, the daily, to look after me!”
“I’m sure he would,” said Dinah, delighted. “Poor Mother! You feel worst the first two or three days and after that it’s not so bad. There — are your pillows comfy? I’ll send Bill in now.”
The news was broken to the others. The children were sorry and dismayed. Did grown-ups actually get measles then? Poor Mother? Poor Aunt Allie! She would certainly want them out of the house now.
“She’s ready to see you, Bill,” said Dinah. “I say — I suppose you’ve had measles all right, haven’t you?”
“Oh dozens of times,” said Bill cheerfully, going to Mrs. Mannering’s room. “Cheer up — we’ll get things right in no time!”
“But you can only have measles once,” began Lucy-Ann. Then the door was shut, and the children could hear only a murmur of voices in their mother’s room.
They went down to breakfast. The boys had more or less got back their ordinary appetites, but the girls still only picked at their food. Dinah looked at Lucy-Ann.
“Your freckles hardly show,” she said. “Nor do Jack’s. A bit of sun will do us all good. I don’t feel like this bacon, do you? Oh dear — I wish Bill would hurry up and come clown. I do want to know what they’ve decided.”
Bill did not come down. The children heard the door above opening, and then a soft whistle. Bill was evidently afraid the daily was about. But she had gone out to do the shopping.
“It’s all right,” called Dinah. “Hilda’s out. Come down if you want to. We’ve saved you some breakfast.”
Bill came down. “Your mother doesn’t want any breakfast except toast and tea,” he said. “You make the toast, Dinah. I see the kettle’s boiling — we can make the tea as soon as the toast is ready. Then I’m going to ring up the doctor, and then ring up Miss Tremayne, your mother’s friend, and ask her to come along for a week or two to be with the invalid. She says she’ll like that.”
The children listened in silence. “And what about us?” asked Jack at last. “Didn’t you decide?”
“Yes, I decided,” said Bill. “Your aunt begged me to take you away for two weeks — and I told her I was due to disappear for a while, so I’d go off to the northern seas with you. I didn’t scare her with my reasons for disappearing — she’s really feeling bad this morning — and she’s so thankful to think you’ll get away for a change that she hardly asked me any questions at all.”
“So we’re to go?” said Jack, unable to keep the joy out of his voice, even though he was very sorry about Aunt Allie. “How absolutely super!”
The four faces glowed. Kiki picked a piece of rind out of the marmalade and, as nobody said anything, took a piece of lump sugar from the sugar-basin.
“Mother will be quite all right, won’t she, with Miss Tremayne?” said Philip earnestly. “She wouldn’t like one of us to stay with her, would she? I’ll stay, if so.”
“She would be much better with you all out of the house,” said Bill, helping himself to bacon. “She’s tired out and wants a really peaceful time. Measles is beastly, but at least it will make her rest in bed for a while!”
“Well, then, we can really look forward to going off with a light heart,” said Jack cheerfully. “Oh, Bill — you always turn up just exactly at the right moment!”
“Here’s Hilda!” said Philip suddenly. “You’d better hop upstairs, Bill. Take your plate. I’ll bring you more toast and tea when we take Mother’s up. Isn’t that toast finished yet, Dinah?”
“Just,” said Dinah, and put the last piece in the toast-rack. “No, Kiki, leave it alone. Oh, Jack, look at Kiki’s beak — just dripping with marmalade. There won’t be any left for us. Greedy bird!”
Bill disappeared upstairs. Hilda went into the kitchen and began to fill up the kitchen stove. Dinah went out to tell her about Mrs. Mannering having the measles. Hilda was most sympathetic, but looked very worried.
“Well, I daresay I can manage,” she said, “but what with all you children here too . . .”
“Oh, but we shan’t be,” said Dinah. “We’re going off on a bird-expedition, as soon as we can — and Miss Tremayne is coming to see to Mother — so . . .”
“Hilda! Hill-da! Hilllll-da!” called a voice, and Hilda jumped.
“My, that’s the missus calling!” she said. “And you told me she was in bed! Coming, Madam!”
But it was only Kiki, of course, doing one of her imitations. She cackled with laughter when Hilda came running into the dining-room.
“Wipe your feet!” she ordered. “Don’t sniff! How many times have I told you to . . .”
Hilda went out and banged the door. “I don’t mind taking orders from them as has the right to give them,” she said to a giggling Dinah, “but take orders from that ridiculous bird I will not. I hope, Miss, that you’re taking that parrot with you. I don’t want the minding of her whilst you’re gone. Drive me crazy, she would.”
“Oh, of course we’ll take her!” said Dinah. “Jack would never dream of going without her.”
The doctor came. Miss Tremayne arrived Hilda agreed to sleep in. Everything seemed to be going well. Bill, ensconced in the spare room, whose door he kept locked in case Hilda should come barging in, made a few quick plans.
“Pack up your things. Order a taxi for eight o’clock tomorrow night. We’ll catch the night train to the north. I’ll slip out tonight and make the rest of the plans for the journey and the holiday. I’ll meet you at Euston, and it won’t be as the Bill Smugs you know! I shall then be Dr. Walker, the naturalist. I’ll come over and introduce myself in a loud voice as soon as I see you arrive, in case there’s anyone about that knows you — or me either! Then off we’ll go.”
It all sounded very thrilling. What a mysterious way to begin a holiday! It sounded as if they were setting off for a first-class adventure, but of course they weren’t. It would be fun if they were, but what could happen on lonely bird-islands? Nothing at all except birds, and more birds and yet more birds.
Bill slipped off that night. No one had known he was in the house, not even Miss Tremayne, who had been given the little dressing-room leading off Mrs. Mannering’s room. Mrs. Mannering had promised not to say that Bill had been there, in case it meant danger to him. But she was so heavy and sleepy that day, that she really began to wonder if Bill had actually been there at all, or if she had dreamt it.
The children packed. No need to take best dresses or anything like that! Shorts and jerseys, rubber shoes, bathing-suits and mackintoshes were the things they would want. And a few cardigans, some towels — and what about some rugs? Were they going to sleep under a roof or not? Bill hadn’t said. For all they knew they might be sleeping in tents. What fun! They decided not to take rugs. Bill would be sure to take things like that if they needed them.