Summer Camp at Trebizon

by Anne Digby

  It was easy to walk round to Mulberry Cove by way of the shore at low tide. But now, Rebecca realized, the tide was coming in. She bent down to take her shoes off, intending to paddle the rest of the way – and suddenly caught sight of somebody through a gap in the rocks, puffing and blowing as she clambered this way, a worried expression on her face.

  'Elf!' she shrieked.

  'Rebecca!' gasped Elf, her face lighting up with amazement.

  They scrambled over the rocks towards each other and fell into a joyful hug. Elf was full of questions and exclamations and Rebecca quickly explained how she came to be back.

  'Well I'll be blowed!' giggled Elf. 'And we're going to be in the same tent? Great!'

  'Isn't it!' Rebecca agreed. 'We're both to be in charge of this Tommy – er – Carter. Where is he, anyway –?' she looked around. 'You haven't found him!'

  Elf shook her head. Together they climbed on to a big flat rock and surveyed the cove. Several small sailing dinghies were beached near a wooden hut, the headquarters of the Mulberry Cove Sailing School. Much farther away, the bulldozer was just opening its giant jaws and tipping a load of boulders on to a heap, clearing a few more yards of beach. This was happening in the lee of some rocky cliffs on the far side of the cove.

  'You look worried,' said Rebecca. 'Miss Peabody doesn't seem too worried about him. She seems used to him. Do you think he's all right?'

  'Oh, I'm sure he's all right,' replied Elf. 'I've just been talking to the bulldozer man and he saw Tommy just a few minutes ago. Apparently he was up on the hillside there –' Elf pointed above their heads to the gorse-covered headland that separated the cove from Trebizon Bay, criss-crossed with little tracks. 'He was running in and out of the undergrowth, playing with a great big black mongrel dog.'

  'Let's go back over the top then,' suggested Rebecca. 'We've got to anyway – unless we want to swim back in our shorts! Look, the tide's coming in quite fast. We'll probably see him on the way back to camp.'

  They climbed up one of the steep tracks until they were walking waist-high in gorse and sweet-smelling grasses over the top of the headland. Trebizon Bay was spread out in front of them with the deep bowl of Mulberry Cove dropping away behind them. It was a good vantage point.

  'Can't see him,' said Elf.

  'Don't look so worried,' said Rebecca.

  'I'm sure he's all right,' repeated Elf, 'but I feel a bit guilty. I mean, I was supposed to be keeping a close eye on him and I forgot. Not a very good start, is it!'

  They were dropping down into Trebizon Bay now, passing close to a large wooden shack with Cantoni's painted on it. It was a summer beach shop, run by an Italian couple, that did a good trade in sweets, chocolates, beach equipment, postcards and ice cream. A lot of their holiday trade came from a caravan site that lay back some two hundred yards from this corner of the bay. There seemed to be more activity than usual going on around the shop, with a horde of people gathered. Mrs Cantoni was talking in a shrill voice. Ignoring all this, Rebecca and Elf walked briskly across the sands towards the camp.

  'I expect Tommy's back, by now,' Elf sighed.

  'We'll manage him!' Rebecca said confidently. 'There's the two of us now. We'll see he doesn't get into any trouble.'

  But Tommy was in trouble already.

  As the girls let themselves back in through the wicket gate, they saw that Mr Cantoni was there. He was holding a small boy with matted brown hair by the scruff of the neck, shouting angrily and volubly at Miss Peabody's assistant. The black dog was very much in evidence, frisking round the barbecue, sniffing and searching the ground for food. A crowd of young campers had gathered, all eyes and ears.

  'I catch-a him in the act!' the Italian repeated. 'Right in the act! He try to hide one – two – three bars of chocolate inside his shirt. Is thief! Thief!'

  Nervously Rebecca chewed at her thumbnail. So this was the famous Tommy Carter!

  Donald spoke quietly, soothingly. Gradually the owner of the beach shop relaxed his hold and let go. Tommy rubbed the back of his neck, glowering. 'That hurt, mister!'

  'I do apologize, sir – won't happen again –' Snatches of the social worker's talk came to their ears. 'This kid's very unsettled at the moment – just between foster homes –' Rebecca looked at the boy's guarded little face thoughtfully. 'No more trouble . . . I promise you . . .'

  The Italian stormed off.

  'It happen again I call the police. You keep–a these children under control, please.'

  Donald chased the audience away and settled down on a log to give Tommy a talking to, the big black mongrel now sniffing round their feet and licking Tommy's skinny legs, affectionately, from time to time. Elf, feeling to some extent responsible for all this, hung around and Rebecca hung around with her.

  'You've been a bad boy, Tommy.'

  'The chocolate weren't for me, it were for Blackie!' The boy put his arms round the dog's neck and it licked his face. 'Look at him. They been starving him!'

  The animal certainly looked rather neglected. He wouldn't have won a prize at Cruft's. However, that was no excuse for trying to steal chocolate for him, Donald explained – and he launched into a long, solemn discussion with the boy about being a member of a community and not letting the side down. In the middle of this Miss Peabody, who had just heard about Tommy getting into trouble, marched on to the scene.

  'What's that filthy dog doing here, Tommy?' she asked, cutting her assistant off in mid-sentence.

  'I found him!' said Tommy defensively. 'Can I keep him, miss?'

  'Of course you can't keep him, you stupid boy!' sighed Miss Peabody. 'Take him back this minute – I don't know where you found him, but take him back there!'

  'I in't goin' to,' said Tommy, his arms tightening round the dog possessively. 'He likes me.'

  Miss Peabody turned to Elf and Rebecca, looking slightly weary.

  'See he takes that dog back, will you? You'd better go with him.'

  'Come on, Tommy,' said Elf.

  The boy swore at her and shook his head stubbornly.

  Elf started to walk down towards the gate, looking back at the dog.

  She whistled.

  'Come on, Blackie! Come on, boy!'

  The dog leapt away from Tommy and went bounding after her. The boy looked crestfallen.

  Rebecca took him by the hand and pulled him to his feet.

  'Come on, Tommy,' she said gently. 'Where did you find him? You'd better show us.'

  Resentfully, he allowed himself to be led out of the camp, kicking some stones along the path as he went. 'Oh all right, then. But he don't belong to nobody!' He didn't seem to mind too much Rebecca holding his hand. He glanced up at her.

  He was a plain little boy, but he had appealing eyes.

  'I've always wanted a dog of me own, miss.'

  'It's funny you should say that,' said Rebecca, quite truthfully. 'So've I!'

  Tommy had found the dog at the caravan site.

  As soon as they arrived there, the animal bounded across to an empty caravan. The windows were closed and the door was firmly locked. He pawed at the step and whined pitifully, looking up at the door hopefully, as though he expected it to open.

  'What's the matter, Blackie?' asked Elf. 'There's nobody there.'

  'His name's Nero, not Blackie,' said a voice.

  A woman was sitting on the steps of the next-door caravan. She was covered in sun-tan oil, her hair was in curlers and she was reading a magazine. 'Jason!' she yelled at a two-year-old child who was hitting the side of the caravan with his spade. 'Stop doing that, Jason!'

  'Is – is he yours then?' Rebecca asked politely. 'The dog, I mean.' Tommy had fallen into a sullen silence.

  'No fear,' said the woman. 'He belonged to the lot in there –' She nodded towards the empty caravan. 'They left this morning. Good riddance! Terrible noisy crowd they was – glad to see the back of them. But they just dumped the dog, didn't they? Wicked I call it.'

  'Dumped him?' exclaimed Elf, shocked.r />
  'That's right. Got fed up of him. Didn't want him no more. Cost too much to feed, I expect. Some people does that. Gets a puppy for the kids for Christmas and when it gets big they gets fed up of it and dumps it when they gets the chance.'

  'But that's awful,' said Rebecca in dismay. Tommy's face was twitching. 'You mean Blackie doesn't belong to anybody. He's just a stray now –'

  'That's right. I said to Harry we ought to ring the police.'

  Tommy was holding on to Blackie fiercely now.

  'It's all right,' Rebecca said quickly, exchanging looks with Elf. 'No need to worry. We'll take him on and see if we can sort something out –'

  'Come on, Blackie!' whistled Elf.

  The three of them left the site at a brisk walk, Blackie bounding along in front of them. Tommy's face had stopped twitching now – he looked bright and hopeful.

  'Can we keep him at the camp then?' he begged. 'We oughter have a watchdog! You heard what she said, he don't belong to nobody.' The dog stopped in his tracks and ran back to them. He leapt up at Tommy, barking and licking his face and wagging his tail excitedly. The little boy laughed out loud. How different he looked when he laughed, thought Rebecca! 'See – he wants to stay with me. You and me are just the same, in't we boy –' He ruffled the dog's neck. 'You ain't got a family and nor have I! We could be good mates!'

  Rebecca and Elf mouthed to each other over the top of Tommy's head.

  'What d'you think? Shall we take him back to camp and ask?'

  'Let's!'

  They walked back over the sand dunes towards the camp. The tide was coming in fast now, long lines of shallow foam licking away the lines of the rounders pitch that Tish & Co. had carefully drawn in the sand, cleaning the great beach ready for another game, another day. A small sailing boat was disappearing round the headland, almost lost in a mist of green glinting spray, gulls wheeling and crying overhead.

  Boy and dog ran down to the water's edge and back again, as though wanting to delay the return to camp. At last the small gate came in sight and Tommy said tensely, through gritted teeth:

  'You will get round her, won't you?'

  'We'll try,' said Rebecca, swallowing hard.

  'Hadn't we better see if we can smarten Blackie up a bit first?' asked Elf nervously.

  FIVE

  TISH TAKES IT BACK

  They made a kind of brush out of stems of marram grass, then crouched in the dunes and worked on Blackie's coat. While Elf held him steady, Rebecca groomed him with firm even strokes. Tommy danced from one foot to another and the dog pawed the ground and fidgeted, but it didn't take too long.

  'There!' said Rebecca, standing up. 'Much better.'

  'Come on, Blackie –' Elf clapped her hands.

  'Walk boy.' 'Walk nicely!' commanded Rebecca. 'Show some decorum! There! Now you look a nice, tidy, well–behaved dog. Let's go and show you to Miss Peabody.'

  They were so nervous, they started giggling.

  They had every reason to be nervous, of course.

  If it had been up to Miss Peabody, she'd never have allowed them to keep Blackie on the camp. Not if they'd brushed his coat for a thousand years.

  But for once in his life, which had been rather an ill–starred one up to now, luck was on Tommy Carter's side. Even so, he had Rebecca to thank.

  'What's the meaning of this?' said Miss Peabody by way of a friendly greeting. 'I thought I told you to get rid of that animal.'

  'Please, miss –' began Tommy, indignantly.

  'Shut up a minute,' butted in Elf and she proceeded to plead Blackie's case in heart-rending and eloquent terms. A crowd gathered round.

  'Please let him stay!' said Tish.

  'Go on!' chorused some of the children.

  'He'll eat up all the scraps –' said Sue.

  'Keep the camp tidy!' added Mara.

  'He'll be a fantastic watchdog!' exclaimed Margot. 'Supposing we get burglars!'

  Everybody started tittering and laughing, but Tommy remained white-faced with suspense.

  Miss Peabody folded her arms and surveyed the dog with distaste.

  'The whole idea's ridiculous –' she began.

  'Rebecca!' called a voice.

  To her amazement, Rebecca saw an entirely unexpected figure. The principal of Trebizon School was picking her way through the copse, stepping over some buckets and spades gingerly. Although she lived in the school grounds it was somehow surprising to see her down at the camp site.

  'Miss Welbeck!' whispered somebody and the word spread, like a ripple, round all the Trebizon volunteers. Several of them, like Rebecca, at once began patting their hair into place and glancing anxiously at dirty fingernails.

  'Rebecca!' the principal called again.

  Rebecca hurriedly detached herself from the others and walked up the path to meet her. Miss Welbeck gave her an anxious smile.

  'My poor child!' she exclaimed. 'Miss Morgan's told me all about it. I've just come to see if you're quite happy now.' She carried on past, looking with interest toward the assembled crowd. Rebecca fell into step beside her. 'I must meet some of the children while I'm here – is something exciting happening? But tell me, are you feeling quite settled now?'

  'I'm fine,' said Rebecca, in surprise. It made her feel embarrassed somehow, a fuss being made.

  'We couldn't have you homeless you know, Rebecca. Hallo –' as she walked into the clearing everybody stood aside and Miss Peabody turned to greet her with a rather ingratiating smile. But Miss Welbeck was looking at Blackie the dog. 'I see you've got a camp mascot!'

  'Not at all, Miss Welbeck,' said the supervisor hastily. 'He doesn't belong here –'

  Tommy's face twitched again and suddenly Rebecca blurted it out.

  'He doesn't belong anywhere, Miss Welbeck! He really is homeless. The poor thing's just been dumped by some people who were staying down on the caravan site. Tommy wants to keep him here, just for the camp –'

  'I'd look after him, miss!' pleaded Tommy, trying to be his most winsome.

  'Now, now, Tommy, you know that's impossible,' interrupted Miss Peabody. 'We can't have stray dogs running around the camp –'

  'We'd be responsible for him Miss Welbeck!' protested Rebecca. 'Me – and Elf – and Tommy –'

  Everyone waited with bated breath. Blackie let out a long, low whine and fixed his eyes appealingly on Miss Welbeck, thumping his tail very slowly on the ground.

  'What do you think, Miss Peabody?' asked the principal, lightly. 'Do you think the dog should be given a chance?'

  It wasn't really a question at all. It was an instruction.

  Miss Peabody opened her mouth and then closed it again. She glanced at Rebecca tight-lipped. Then she shrugged.

  'Why not?' she replied politely. 'But of course if the dog's a nuisance he'll have to go.'

  'Of course,' nodded Miss Welbeck.

  The children cheered, crowding round Blackie and patting him, some rushing off to find him tit – bits. Tommy just stared at Rebecca, full of gratitude.

  The six friends had some free time that evening so they waked over to Mulberry Cove to see if there were any sign of Mrs Lazarus yet. Tommy and Blackie had attached themselves, too.

  'I'd like to drive that bulldozer!' said Tommy, as they wandered across the cove. It was standing idle now, work having finished for the day. Everything was quiet and Mrs Lazarus and her party obviously weren't going to show up before morning. 'The way it was shifting all them rocks today!'

  'Some hopes, Tommy!' said Tish. She was grinning and he grinned back.

  'Why do these boulders have to be shifted anyway?' asked Mara.

  'They're covering up the treasure,' said Tommy importantly.

  He'd asked the man in charge of the bulldozer endless questions and was now very knowledgeable.

  'The cliffs used to come right out as far as this – see?' He demonstrated, standing on top of a small boulder. 'They was full of tunnels and caves and they all capsided and fell down. Now all that's left of 'em is the
se rocks and humps and stuff on the beach. Mrs What's-her-name says the treasure's buried under 'em all.'

  'Why does Mrs What's-her-name say that?' asked Rebecca, with a smile.

  'This Roman bloke hid a pot o' gold in some caves. The first caves he came to, see? That'd be round about here, see? That's why she has to get the boulders and stuff cleared away.'

  'What else did the bulldozer man tell you?' asked Sue. This was full of interest.

  'Nothing much,' replied Tommy. He kicked a pebble, suddenly looking sullen. 'Just that the old lady's never found anything yet and ain't likely to. And her money's nearly all gone.'

  He turned to Rebecca, hopefully.

  'She will find something, won't she?'

  'I don't know,' said Rebecca. 'But this is her last chance and we're going to help her look.'

  'Me too,' said Tommy.

  It was cosy in the tent. The three of them slept in a row, Tommy in the middle. Blackie settled down at the foot of Tommy's sleeping bag, just by the open flap of the tent, listening out. It was comforting to have him there.

  Elf was the first to fall asleep but Tommy seemed to want to talk.

  'Have you got a Mum and Dad?'

  'Yes,' said Rebecca. She paused. 'How about you?'

  'Sort of. But they're a long way away.'

  'So are mine,' said Rebecca. 'Where are yours?'

  'Me Mum ran off with someone and then me Dad ran off with someone else.'

  'Oh,' said Rebecca.

  There was a long silence.

  'D'you see your Mum and Dad much?' asked Tommy, yawning.

  'Not much,' said Rebecca.

  'I don't never see mine at all,' said Tommy suddenly. Then he was silent for a long time.

  That was when Rebecca remembered the uncomfortable feeling she'd had, alone in the garden that morning.

  'Time to go to sleep, Tommy,' she said, reaching out a hand and ruffling his matted hair.

  Blackie yawned and sighed softly. After a while they all fell asleep.

  Next morning Rebecca and Tish took the two little girls from Tish's tent for a paddle before breakfast. Rebecca said: