The Week at Mon Repose

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Authors: Margaret Pearce
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we are going to have to steal Caliph out of the Pound,” Allie said. “I’ve never gone in for horse stealing before.”
    â€œI don’t suppose it is really stealing, as Caliph belongs to Ahmed,” Jenny said.
    â€œHope we don’t get caught. Could we ask our Mums for the Pound fee money?” Allie said.
    â€œFour hundred dollars,” Jenny said with a shudder. “They wouldn’t have it, so why bother to even think about it?”
    â€œThat means we’re stuck with stealing Caliph from the Pound.” Allie said. “And if Ahmed doesn’t win some prize money at the race meeting, we’re still in trouble. “
    â€œAnd if Mr. Masterton doesn’t turn up, and if we can’t find a way to send Ahmed back, he’s in real trouble,” Jenny said with a sigh. “Some holiday we’re having at Mon Repose.”
    â€œLet’s go and offer to help Marilyn bath her little brothers,” Allie suggested. “All this worrying is giving me a headache.”

 
    Chapter Ten
    Â 
    When Allie and Jenny reached the bedroom Marilyn shared with her brothers, she greeted their offer for help with undisguised relief.
    A layer of clothes and toys hid the floor and the three bunks. Marilyn had cleared a space across the end of one of the bunks and was frowning at the three sets of pyjamas and two towels she had laid across one of the mattresses.
    â€œThey aren’t really bad little brats, just tiring,” she said. “Got to find a missing towel before we herd them into the bath.”
    The missing towel stayed missing. Allie’s admiration for Marilyn grew as Marilyn picked up and tidied and stuffed grubby clothes into a large laundry bag. She then stripped the bottom bunk bed and put fresh sheets on it while Jenny and Allie remade the other two beds. They then collected, sorted, and put away matching bits of plastic toys into their storage boxes.
    â€œDo you have to do this every afternoon?” Jenny asked.
    â€œMostly.”
    â€œSo when do you find time to do your homework or catch up on your social life?” Allie demanded.
    â€œWhy aren’t your little brothers being trained to put away their own toys?” Jenny asked. “I’ve had to clear away my own stuff since I was old enough to remember.”
    â€œI’d have even less time to myself if I had to nag them into doing it,” Marilyn said.
    Allie nudged Jenny. Jenny coloured up and changed the subject. “One of your little brothers might have taken the towel outside. If we can’t find it, I’m sure Mrs. Marybone will give us another one.”
    The girls headed to the small fenced-in play area. Marilyn’s mother sat on the veranda drinking tea with the other women and watching her sons. The missing towel was tied around the neck of the seven-year-old brother, who was taking his turn at jumping off the top of the slide into the sandpit.
    â€œI’m super duper man! Look!”
    â€œI’m not gonna have a bath tonight,” the five-year-old yelled when he spotted his sister. “I’m not dirty, and I haven’t finished playing.”
    â€œOh, yes you are,” Marilyn called as she sprinted across to the gate to catch him before he escaped. He swerved, ducked under her, and kept on running.
    â€œNeither am I,” yelled the seven-year-old as he scrambled over the fence and ran away.
    Chasing Billy and his five-year-old brother, Jimpy, seemed part of the bath time routine. Allie spared a thankful thought for the fact that the youngest brother, Georgie, was still a toddler and unable to join in the game.
    The brothers were fast and experienced at dodging pursuers. The three girls chased them around the grounds of Mon Repose, across the veranda, down the long passageway, and along the drive. They caught the small boys at last by splitting their forces and trapping both of them in the long passage across the centre of Mon

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