FIVE FALL INTO ADVENTURE by Enid Blyton

02 A MEETING ON THE BEACH

It really was very difficult to get Uncle Quentin off the next day. He was shut up in his study until the last possible moment, sorting out his precious notebooks. The taxi arrived and hooted outside the gate. Aunt Fanny, who had been ready for a long time, went and rapped at the study door.

"Quentin! Unlock the door! You really must come. We shall lose the plane if we don't go now."

"Just one minute!" shouted back her husband. Aunt Fanny looked at the four children in despair.

"That's the fourth time he's called out 'Just one minute'," said George. The telephone shrilled out just then, and she picked up the receiver.

"Yes," she said. "No, I'm afraid you can't see him. He's off to Spain, and nobody will know where he is for the next two weeks. What's that? Wait a minute - I'll ask my mother."

"Who is it?" said her mother.

"It's the Daily Clarion," said George. "They want to send a reporter down to interview Daddy. I told them he was going to Spain - and they said could they publish that?"

"Of course," said her mother, thankfully, "Once that's in the papers nobody will ring up and worry you. Say, yes, George."

George said yes, the taxi hooted more loudly than ever, and Timmy barked madly at the hooting. The study door was flung open and Uncle Quentin stood in the doorway, looking as black as thunder.

"Why can't I have a little peace and quiet when I'm doing important work?" he began. But his wife made a dart at him and dragged him down the hall. She put his hat in one hand, and would have put his stick into the other if he hadn't been carrying a heavy despatch case.

"You're not doing important work, you're off on a holiday," she said. "Oh, Quentin, you're worse than ever! What's that case in your hand? Surely you are not taking work away with you?"

The taxi hooted again, and Timmy woofed just behind Uncle Quentin. He jumped violently, and the telephone rang loudly.

"That's another reporter coming down to see you, Father," said George. "Better go quickly!"

Whether that bit of news really did make Uncle Quentin decide at last to go, nobody knew - but in two seconds he was sitting in the taxi, still clutching his despatch case, telling the taxi-driver exactly what he thought of people who kept hooting their horns.

"Good-bye, dears," called Aunt Fanny, thankfully. "Don't get into mischief. We're off at last."

The taxi disappeared down the lane. "Poor Mother!" said George. "It's always like this when they go for a holiday. Well, there's one thing certain - I shall NEVER marry a scientist."

Everyone heaved a sigh of relief at the thought that Uncle Quentin was gone. When he was over-worked he really was impossible.

"Still, you simply have to make excuses for anyone with a brain like his," said Julian. "Whenever our science master at school speaks of him, he almost holds his breath with awe. Worst of it is, he expects me to be brilliant because I've got a brilliant uncle."

"Yes. It's difficult to live up to clever relations," said Dick. "Well - we're on our own, except for Joan. Good old Joan! I bet she'll give us some smashing meals."

"Let's go and see if she's got anything we can have now," said George. "I'm hungry."

"So am I," said Dick. They marched down the hall into the kitchen, calling for Joan.

"Now, you don't need to tell me what you've come for," said Joan, the smiling, good-tempered cook. "And I don't need to tell you this - the larder's locked."