The Circus of Adventure (2 page)

But it wasn’t. As it went by, Kiki hooted loudly—parp-parp-parp—exactly like a car.

The driver was astonished. He could see no car in sight. He sounded his horn, thinking there must be a hidden corner somewhere.

And then Lucy-Ann gave a squeal. ‘Here’s Bill!’ she said. ‘A big black car, very sleek and shiny! Bill, Bill!’

She was right. It was Bill’s car. It drew up at the front gate, and Bill’s jolly face grinned at them as he looked out of the window. Somebody sat beside him. Was it the boy?

Bill opened the door and leapt out. The four children pounced on him. ‘Bill! Good old Bill! How are you, Bill?’

‘Silly-Billy!’ screeched a voice.

‘Ah—good evening, Kiki,’ said Bill, as the parrot landed full on his shoulder. ‘Still the same rude old bird. Aha! You want me at home to teach you a few manners!’

Kiki cackled like an excited hen. ‘Now then—don’t you lay eggs down my neck!’ said Bill. ‘What are you cackling about? Where’s your mother, Dinah?’

‘There she is,’ said Dinah, as Mrs. Cunningham came running to the gate. Bill was about to call to her when an extremely loud cough came from the car—a cough that was meant to be noticed.

‘Oh—I completely forgot for the moment,’ said Bill. ‘I’ve brought a visitor. Did you tell them, Allie?’

‘Yes, I did,’ said Mrs. Cunningham. ‘Where is he? Oh, in the car. Bring him out, Bill.’

‘Come on out,’ said Bill, and in the midst of a dead silence the owner of the loud cough slid out of the car in as dignified a manner as he could.

Everyone stared at him. He was about eleven, and certainly very foreign-looking. His blue-black hair was curly and too long. His eyes were as black as his hair, and he had thicker lashes than either of the girls. And he certainly had magnificent manners.

He went to Mrs. Cunningham, and took the hand she held out to him. But instead of shaking it he bowed over it and touched it with his lips. Mrs. Cunningham couldn’t help smiling. The four children stared in amusement.

‘My thanks to you, dear lady,’ he said, in a very foreign accent.

‘That’s all right,’ said Mrs. Cunningham. ‘Have you had any tea?’

But before the boy chose to answer this question he had to make a further display of manners. He went to Dinah, and before she knew what he meant to do, he took her hand and bent over it. She gave a squeal and snatched it away.

‘Don’t!’ she said. Lucy-Ann put her hands firmly behind her back. She didn’t want them kissed either. What an extraordinary boy!

‘Gus, old fellow—we just shake hands, you know,’ said Bill, trying to hide his amusement at the sight of the two girls’ indignant faces. ‘Er—this is Gustavus Barmilevo, Allie. He will be with us for the next few weeks, as his uncle has asked me to keep an eye on him.’

Gustavus Barmilevo bowed very low, but did not attempt any more hand-kissing. Bill introduced the rest.

‘Dinah—Lucy-Ann—Jack—and Philip. I—er—hope you’ll soon all be good friends.’

The two boys shook hands with Gus, eyeing him with much disfavour. Goodness! Were they to put up with this little foreigner all the holidays?

Gus did a funny little bow each time he shook hands. ‘Plizzed to mit you,’ he said. ‘What is zis bird? How you call it?’

‘It’s a Kiki-bird,’ said Jack, solemnly. ‘Gus, meet Kiki. Kiki, meet Gus!’

Kiki held out her left foot as usual, to shake hands. Gus looked extremely surprised, but his manners remained perfect. He held out his hand to Kiki’s foot. Unfortunately Kiki dug her talons into his ringers, and he gave a loud yell.

‘What a noise, what a noise!’ said Kiki, severely. ‘Wipe your feet and blow your nose. Fetch the doctor!’

‘My finger’s blidding,’ said the boy, with tears in his voice. ‘It blids, look.’

‘Fetch the doctor, Polly’s got a cold, fetch the doctor,’ chanted Kiki, enjoying herself. The boy suddenly realised that it was the parrot who was talking. He forgot his ‘blidding’ and stared at Kiki in amazement.

‘It spiks!’ he announced in awe. ‘It spiks. It spiks words. It sees my blidding finger, and spiks to fetch the doctor. I never haf seen a Kiki-bird before.’

‘Come along in, and I’ll put a bit of bandage on your finger,’ said Mrs. Cunningham, getting tired of all this.

‘Yes. It blids,’ said Gus, mournfully, watching a minute drop of blood fall to the ground. He looked as if he was going to cry. Then he said a most extraordinary thing.

‘This bird,’ he said, looking at Kiki suddenly, ‘this bird—it must be in a cage. I order it.’

‘Don’t be a fathead,’ said Jack, after a moment’s silence of astonishment. ‘Come on, Aunt Allie—let’s go indoors. Gus might “blid” to death!’

This was a most alarming thought, and Gus rushed into the house at once. The others followed slowly. What an extraordinary boy!

‘Bit dippy,’ said Dinah in a low voice, and they all nodded. Bill’s voice hailed them.

‘Hey! What about a spot of help with the luggage?’

‘Oh, Bill. Sorry, we weren’t thinking,’ said Jack, and ran back at once. ‘Gus rather took our breath away. What nationality is he?’

‘Oh, he’s a bit of a mixture, I think,’ said Bill. ‘Don’t bother him about his family or his home, or he’ll probably burst into tears. Sorry to inflict him on you like this. He’ll be better when he’s shaken down a bit. I believe he got on quite all right at the English school he was at. Anyway—I’ll take him off your hands as much as I can, I promise you, as it’s my friend who asked me to keep an eye on him!’

‘We’ll help, Bill,’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘I expect he’s shy. Oh dear—I was so afraid he’d kiss my hand! What would the girls at school say?’

‘Well, I should hardly think they’d know anything about it,’ said Bill. ‘You take that bag, Jack—and you that box, Philip. Well—it’s nice to see you all home again! And Kiki, too, you old rascal. How dare you call me Silly-Billy?’

‘Pop goes Billy, pop goes Billy!’ screeched Kiki in delight, and flew down to his shoulder to nibble his ear. ‘Pop-pop-pop!’

Chapter 3

GUSSY AND KIKI

There really wasn’t very much time that evening to get to know Gustavus Barmilevo. As they were all going off again the next day there was packing to do, and all kinds of arguments arose as to what was or was not to be taken.

Gustavus was bewildered by the noise of so many people talking at once. He sat staring at them all, nursing his bandaged finger. Kiki absolutely fascinated him. He watched her continually, but would not allow her near him.

As soon as she came near, he flapped his hands at her as if she was a hen. ‘Go off!’ he cried. ‘Clear away!’

‘He’s as muddled as Kiki sometimes gets,’ said Jack, with a grin. ‘Kiki can’t make him out. Now, where did I put that book? Aunt Allie, did I pack that big book?’

‘You did,’ said Aunt Allie. ‘And I have unpacked it. For the third time, Jack, you are NOT going to take a score of books about birds. Two is more than enough, so make your choice.’

‘You’re so hard-hearted,’ groaned Jack. ‘Well, I suppose you will allow me to take my field-glasses? In fact, if they don’t go, I shan’t go either.’

‘You can carry those round your neck,’ said Mrs. Cunningham. ‘Do try and remember that there will be seven of us in the car and all the luggage, too. We really must take the least luggage possible. Kiki, bring that string back. KIKI! Jack, if you don’t stop Kiki running off with absolutely everything I put down for a moment, I shall go mad.’

‘Where is the cage?’ suddenly demanded Gustavus, in a commanding voice. ‘Put him in the cage.’

‘She’s a her, not a him,’ said Jack, ‘and stop talking about cages. No ordering about, please!’

Gustavus apparently did not follow this, but he resented Jack’s firm voice. He sat up stiffly.

‘This bird iss—iss—wicket!’ he said. ‘Not good. Wicket. I will not haf him wizzout a cage.’

‘Now, Jack, now!’ said Mrs. Cunningham warningly, as she saw Jack’s furious face. ‘He’s not used to Kiki yet. Or to our ways. Give him a chance to settle down. Don’t take any notice of him. Gustavus, the bird is not wicked. She is good. Sit still and be quiet.’

‘Where is the cage?’ repeated Gustavus, in a most maddening manner. ‘A beeg, BEEG cage. For a wicket bird.’

Jack went over to him and spoke slowly and loudly with his face close to the surprised boy’s.

‘I have a beeg, BEEG cage,’ he said, most dramatically. ‘But I keep it for small, silly boys. I will bring it for you, Gus. If you want a beeg, BEEG cage you shall have it for yourself. You shall sit in it and be safe from that wicket, wicket bird.’

To Jack’s enormous surprise Gustavus burst into tears! All four children looked at him aghast. How could a boy of eleven be so incredibly silly? Even Lucy-Ann was disgusted. Mrs. Cunningham hurried over to him.

‘He’s tired out,’ she said to the others. ‘It’s all strange to him here, and he’s never seen a parrot like Kiki before. Nor have any of us, come to that! Cheer up, Gustavus. Jack didn’t mean what he said, of course.’

‘I jolly well did,’ began Jack. ‘Kiki’s old cage is enormous and . . .’

Mrs. Cunningham firmly led the weeping Gus from the room. The others stared at one another in complete disgust.

‘Well! To think we’ve got to put up with that these hols!’ began Jack. ‘All I can say is that I’m going to take him firmly in hand—and he won’t enjoy it one bit!’

‘I’ll take him in hand, too,’ said Dinah, quite fiercely. ‘Who does he think he is—laying down the law about Kiki and a cage! Oh, Jack—I do wish you’d got that old cage and brought it in. I’d have loved to see Gustavus’s face.’

‘Poor old Gussy!’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘Wouldn’t he have howled! Poor Gussy!’

‘Gussy!’ said Kiki, at once. ‘Fussy-Gussy! Fussy-Gussy!’

Everyone laughed. ‘You’ve hit it off again,’ said Philip to Kiki. ‘Fussy—that’s exactly what we’ll have to put up with—fuss and grumbles and silliness all the time. Why don’t foreigners bring up their kids properly? Fussy-Gussy! We shall get jolly tired of him.’

‘Fussy-Gussy!’ screamed Kiki, dancing to and fro, to and fro on her big feet. ‘Wipe your feet, Gussy!’

‘Dry your eye, you mean,’ said Philip. ‘I hope Gussy’s not going to burst into tears too often. I think I’ll borrow one of Mother’s afternoon-tea-cloths and take it with me to offer him every time he looks like bursting into tears.’

Mrs. Cunningham came back, and overheard this. ‘I think you’re being a bit unkind,’ she said. ‘He’s a silly little boy, I admit—but it must be rather nerve-racking for him to be plunged into the midst of a company like this when he doesn’t speak the language properly, and everyone laughs at him. I think you should play fair and give him a chance.’

‘All right, Mother,’ said Philip. ‘All the same—it isn’t like Bill to thrust someone like Gussy on us at a moment’s notice, just at the beginning of the hols.’

‘Well, you see,’ said his mother, ‘it’s like this. Bill was saddled with this youngster—and he knew you wouldn’t like having him. So he suggested to me that he should go off with him alone somewhere. I couldn’t bear that, because a holiday without Bill would be horrid—and so we thought it would be best if Gustavus came with us all, and we tried to put up with him. It’s either that or going without both Gussy and Bill.’

‘I see,’ said Philip. ‘Well, I’d rather put up with Gussy than have no Bill.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ said his mother. ‘So don’t make Bill feel too bad about it, will you? He’s quite likely to vanish with Gussy for the rest of the holidays if you make too much fuss. All the same—I think you can quite safely make young Gustavus toe the line. That won’t do him any harm at all. He seems a spoilt little cry-baby to me.’

‘We’ll soon show him exactly where he stands,’ said Jack. ‘But I really can’t think how Bill was soft enough to take him on. Where’s the crybaby now?’

‘I’ve popped him into bed with a book,’ said Mrs. Cunningham. ‘There’s such a lot of things to do this evening and I really felt I couldn’t cope with sobs and tears and bickerings the very first day you were home—so I thought everyone would be happier if he was in bed.’

‘How right you were!’ said Jack. ‘Well, now dear Gussy is safely out of the way, let’s get on with things. I suppose you don’t want any help with the supper, Aunt Allie?’

‘I imagine that’s a roundabout way of saying you are hungry again?’ said Aunt Allie. ‘All right—the girls can see to supper. You boys come and help me finish packing the greatest number of things into the smallest possible bags! I’m leaving behind practically everything belonging to Gustavus—he’s got the most ridiculous things—pyjamas made of real silk, for instance! And monograms on everything.’

‘He must have gone through an awful lot of ragging at school then,’ said Philip. ‘Pity they didn’t have his hair cut. He’d make a lovely girl with all that long curly black hair. Couldn’t we get his hair cut, Mother?’

‘Possibly,’ said his mother. ‘Let’s not talk about him any more. I’m tired of him already.’

The packing was finished by supper-time. Mrs. Cunningham was determined not to take more than a change of clothes for everyone: shirts, jerseys, blazers and macs. Once more she had to take Jack’s enormous book on birds from where he had hidden it yet again under some shirts in a suit-case. She looked at him in exasperation.

He grinned back amiably. ‘Oh, sorry, Aunt Allie! You don’t mean to say it’s got itself packed again!’

‘I’m locking the cases now,’ said Aunt Allie, with determination. ‘Really, Jack, I sometimes feel you want a good spanking!’

Supper was a hilarious meal. Gustavus, having a tray of food in bed, listened rather enviously. He was tired, and glad to be in bed—but it did sound very jolly downstairs. He didn’t somehow feel that he had made a very good impression, though. That bird—it was that ‘wicket’ bird who had made things go wrong. When he got Kiki alone he would slap her hard—biff!

Gustavus brought his hand down smartly as he pictured himself slapping Kiki. The tray jerked and his lemonade spilt over the traycloth. There—that was thinking of Kiki again. He was so engrossed in trying to mop up the mess he had made that he didn’t notice someone rather small sidling in at the door.

It was the parrot, come to find out where Gustavus was. Kiki’s sharp eyes had missed him at supper-time. Then where was he? Upstairs?