Five Go Back to Kirrin Island

©2006 Enid Blyton Yahoo Group

Every once in a while, regular members of the Enid Blyton Yahoo Group join forces and write a Round Robin. If you've never heard of a Round Robin, well, in this case it's a brand new story written by a group of fans, with each member writing a chapter and making it up as they go along. Nobody knows where the story will lead; there's no plot to follow, and the direction of the next chapter is decided by the end of the last one. It's a lot of fun, and the result is either a wonderful new story—or a complete mess!

What follows is the Famous Five in a brand new exciting adventure. There are over 20 members uniting to write this story, so this section will grow one chapter at a time over the next few months...

Chapter 2: Jo has surprising news
by Anita Bensoussane (January 14, 2006)

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The four children gazed at Jo in surprise. They remembered her father, Simmy, as a thoroughly bad lot. Why would he send Jo to warn them of possible trouble?

Jo saw the look they gave her, and went red. "I know what you're thinking," she said, stroking Timmy, "but my Dad's my Dad, whatever he's done in the past, and he swears blind that he'll be keeping on the straight and narrow from now on. He's heard about everything you've done for me and he realises it's thanks to you that I've got a good home with my foster-mother while he's inside. This is his way of paying something back, see?"

"We do see," said Dick. "It just takes a bit of getting used to, that's all."

"What did your father say, Jo?" asked George, impatiently. Julian had just told his cousin about Professor Hayling's telephone call, thinking that he might as well get all the bad news over and done with, and George's spirits were low. Whatever Jo had to say, it surely couldn't make things much worse than they already were.

Jo sat down on a rock next to Anne and looked round at her friends' expectant faces. "Well," she began, in a low voice, "it's about Pottersham."

"Pottersham!" exclaimed Julian. "You mean that traitor of a scientist who was plotting to sell top secret information abroad?"

"The one we came up against at Faynights Castle?" put in Dick. "Go on, Jo. This sounds interesting."

Jo ran her fingers through her short curls. "Pottersham's done a runner," she said. "Broke out of jail early this morning, he did—the same one my Dad's in—and unless he's caught soon my Dad's afraid he'll cause trouble for you. He's resented your family ever since that time at Faynights and he's always told his cell-mate that he intends to take revenge on the Kirrins one of these days."

Anne looked at Jo's flushed face, and sighed. How she longed for a quiet, uneventful holiday. As the train had rattled and clattered towards Kirrin that morning, she had pictured endless days of bathing and boating, the peace broken only by the haunting cries of gulls as they soared through a sky of cornflower blue. She and Julian had talked of bringing their sketchbooks down to the beach to sketch the fishing boats, the island and the rocky coastline. Julian was getting rather good at painting in watercolour and had promised to teach Anne all that he knew. Now it seemed that the Five were to fall headlong into yet another adventure. Anne stared at the sand and wished she could bury her head in it, as ostriches were popularly reputed to do.

George's fists were clenched and her eyes blazed. "How dare Pottersham threaten our family!" she cried. "Just let him try! Timmy won't allow him within a mile of Kirrin!"

"Steady on, old thing," said Julian. "I don't believe for one minute that he'll carry out his threat, though I rather think we ought to warn Aunt Fanny and Uncle Quentin, just in case."

"No!" George and Jo spoke in unison, their faces wearing the same determined expression. They looked at one another, startled, and then smiled.

"Ladies first," grinned George, nodding to Jo to continue.

Jo made a face at George but carried on anyway, eager to have her say. "Let's keep the grown-ups out of this," she said. "My Dad wouldn't want your folks calling the police. I'm warning you of Pottersham's threats in confidence, like, because you're my friends. The last thing my Dad needs is for the police to come along asking him questions about Pottersham—some of the other inmates might not be too thrilled about that, if you know what I mean."

"You're right," agreed George. "Besides, I have my own reasons for not wanting to confide in Mother and Father. If Mother got it into her head that we were in danger here at Kirrin, she'd probably decide that moving to Cambridge was quite a sensible option after all. It would break her heart as well as mine to have to do that, and I won't allow Pottersham to drive us out of our home. Why, we Kirrins have lived here for centuries, and to let scum like Pottersham bring an end to that would be…well, it would be…"

"Potty?" suggested Dick. The others groaned and Jo fell on him, pummelling him with her fists till he begged for mercy. Timmy joined in, always ready for a game of rough and tumble.

Julian glanced at his watch and gave a sharp exclamation. "I say—look at the time! We really ought to be getting back for tea. Are you coming, Jo?"

"You bet!" said Jo, her eyes shining. "Just try and stop me!"

"Are we agreed that we won't say anything to Mother and Father, at least for the present?" asked George, anxiously, as they walked along the cliff-path towards Kirrin Cottage.

The others nodded. "Just be on your guard, all of you," said Jo. "Beware of strangers asking questions, and that sort of thing."

Anne shivered, in spite of the hot sun. Beware! What a solemn word for such a beautiful summer's day.

#

Joan the cook, who had been out shopping when the children had first arrived, was delighted to see George and the others, and gave them a warm welcome. Then she turned to the gypsy girl. "Well I never—if it isn't Miss Jo!" she exclaimed. "How's my cousin, Dorcas? All the better for having got rid of you for the afternoon, I'll be bound," she added, with a twinkle in her eye.

"She's right as rain," said Jo. "Sends her love. Her chocolate sponge is nearly as good as yours now—not quite, but she's getting there. I certainly make sure she gets plenty of practice! No-one can beat you though; you're the tops!"

"Get away with you," said Joan. "Cupboard love, that's what it is. Now, sit yourselves down and mind Timmy doesn't wolf all the cake."

"As if we'd let him," replied Anne, helping herself to an egg sandwich. "Ooh—these sandwiches are just the way I like them; cut nice and thin and simply chock-full of egg."

"Good old Joanna!" said Jo.

"Joanna?" echoed the cook. "You and your fancy names! I haven't been called that, not regular anyway, since I were a young lass. Except by you saucy young things, that is! No, it's plain Joan suits me these days, and there's naught wrong with a good plain name, neither."

It was a jolly tea. Uncle Quentin came in from picking up the children's luggage from the station and proved to be in an extraordinarily good mood, still excited about the prize he had been awarded for his work. At long last, his contribution to Science was being recognised. No wonder he felt like the King of the Castle. His wife smiled at him as she poured out his tea. She wouldn't mention Professor Hayling's telephone call just yet. It would mean Quentin making a big decision, one way or the other, and at the moment he was so relaxed. Even the news of Pottersham's escape, which he'd heard on the wireless, hadn't upset him for long. Best make the most of his good mood while it lasted.

The children helped clear away the tea-things and then Aunt Fanny proposed a game of Charades before Jo had to catch the bus home. This suggestion met with general approval, but George asked to be excused. "I have something to do," she said, and refused to say a word more. She slipped off upstairs, followed by Timmy, who padded silently after her like a shadow. Julian frowned, wondering what she was up to, but he soon forgot his concerns as a hilarious game of Charades got underway. It lasted for ages, until Uncle Quentin got into such a muddle trying to mime "nutrinos" that the game ended in utter confusion—or "fusion," as Dick remarked with a grin.

George reappeared at suppertime, fending off her cousins' questions about what she had been doing. Anne shrugged. She was becoming used to George going off alone for hours at a time. Her cousin had done the same thing at school throughout the term, and in London too. Curious, Anne had at first questioned her about what she had been up to but George had been so much on the defensive that Anne had eventually given up asking. Let her cousin keep her secret, whatever it was!

#

George found herself unable to get to sleep that night. She kept thinking about her conversation with Alf—no, James!—and about her father being offered a professorship at Cambridge. After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, she finally got out of bed, fumbled in the dark for her slippers and crept over to the little side-window which looked out over Kirrin Bay. Timmy padded after her and flopped down at her feet. George patted him, pleased to have him with her. His presence was comforting.

A full moon flooded the landscape with silvery radiance and George could see her island quite clearly. The castle ruins, looking mysterious in the moonlight, reached jagged fingers to the starry sky. The aluminium tower was visible too, of course, smooth and gleaming, and she frowned. Kirrin Island looked so serene now, but during the day it was swarming with trippers. Her very own island, she thought, and a lump came to her throat. How could Mother contemplate moving away? Kirrin was in the family's blood. When George was younger she had vowed that, once she was grown up, she would live on Kirrin Island with Timmy. An unspoilt Kirrin Island—not an over-developed one with a causeway leading to the mainland. Ugh—how could Father even think of such a thing? Now she was older George had different plans for her future, but she had taken it for granted that Kirrin Island would always be there, waiting for her, whenever she needed some time alone.

Timmy licked George's hand and she fondled his ears absent-mindedly, listening to Anne's soft breathing. Was James right when he said that Kirrin couldn't survive for much longer as a fishing village? Would things have to change, whether she liked it or not?

George didn't know. She wandered over to the other window, which overlooked the moors at the back of the house. They too were bathed in the light of the moon, a vast sheet of silver and shadows, stretching away as far as the eye could see.

Suddenly, Timmy pricked up his ears and George felt his body stiffen. She gazed intently across the moors and it was then that she saw something most peculiar. Golly—whatever could it be?

"Anne!" she whispered, turning away from the window. She must wake her cousins at once!

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