‘When’s the next bus back?’ asked Bets. ‘I wish we could stay here for the day, Fatty. You’d love the market. But we haven’t got our lunch with us.’
‘We could have it in that little shop over there,’ said Fatty, pointing. ‘Look - it says, ‘Light Lunches.’ That probably means eggs and bread, and butter and cake. How would you like that?’
‘Oh, it would be lovely,’ said Bets. ‘You do have good ideas, Fatty. But Mother would be anxious if we didn’t come back.’
‘I’ll do a spot of phoning,’ said Fatty, who never minded doing things of that sort. Bets thought how like a grown-up he was, always deciding things, and, what was more, always seeming to have plenty of money to pay for everything!
Fatty disappeared into the post-office and went into the telephone box. He made three calls very quickly and came out.
‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘I phoned up your mother and Larry’s mother and mine - and they all said, “Good riddance to you for the day!” ’
‘They didn’t, Fatty!’ said Bets, who simply couldn’t imagine her mother saying any such thing.
‘Well - not exactly those words,’ grinned Fatty. ‘But I could tell they weren’t sorry to be rid of us for the day. I don’t think my mother, for instance, liked that new game of ours very much.’
‘I shouldn’t think she did, really,’ said Bets, remembering the yowling and groaning and rolling over and over that went with Fatty’s new game.
‘Let’s go and tell the others we can stay here for lunch. Won’t they be thrilled!’