The Week at Mon Repose by Margaret Pearce Page A

Mon Repose.”
    â€œWhere’s she going?” Jenny asked.
    â€œMaybe to pick up her winnings,” Allie suggested. “Let’s go.”
    Mrs. Marybone had repacked the car boot and was ready to leave. “We have to return to start dinner,” she apologized. “Anyway, everything is really over. Did you enjoy our race day?”
    â€œAbsolutely terrific!” Allie assured her.
    â€œThank you very much for inviting us along,” Jenny said. “We have had a wonderful afternoon.”
    â€œYou can say that again,” Allie said.
    She relaxed into the seat of the car. Ahmed would pay the Pound fee and get his horses. They were out of trouble. It was a nice feeling.
    â€œExcept we still have to find a way to return Ahmed ,” Jenny said. She seemed aware of what Allie was thinking.
    â€œThere is that,” Allie agreed with a sigh, her good feeling evaporated.

 
    Chapter Fifteen
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    â€œHow long do you reckon it will take Ahmed to get back?” Allie demanded.
    â€œAllowing two hours to ride the horse to the Pound and another hour to walk to Mon Repose,” Jenny calculated. “Allowing more time for something to go wrong, Ahmed should still be here by nine o’clock.”
    At last the dinner bell sounded. They trailed into the dining room. All the guests were in a good mood and noisy. Everyone had enjoyed themselves at the picnic day. Mrs. Marybone volunteered that Marilyn’s father had rung to say they wouldn’t be in for dinner. “And does anyone know whether Ahmed Masterton is going to be here for his dinner?” she asked.
    â€œHe said something about having to go home tonight,” Jenny said with perfect truth.
    â€œWell, there’s no problem about that,” Mrs. Marybone replied as she handed out their plates of steak and kidney pie. “Seeing as Mr. Masterton is paying.”
    â€œIs Mr. Masterton returning?” Jenny asked.
    â€œHe said so. Just had to rush off on some urgent business for a day or two.” Mrs. Marybone moved away to serve another table.
    The two girls ate their steak and kidney pie and worked their way through their dessert of jellied fruit and custard. Afterwards they went back to their room to wait and wait.
    Jenny took out a book to read and Allie just sat. She kept her lips firmly closed. She knew if she opened her mouth, all the “what ifs” would come tumbling out, and she wasn’t going to have her composed cousin Jenny calling her a worrywart.
    She became increasingly uneasy as the hours had passed. Ahmed still hadn’t arrived. Also Marilyn and her family were still missing. Where were they? It wasn’t as if there was anywhere to go around the district. She sneaked another look at the clock. It was nine fifteen.
    â€œWhat if Marilyn doesn’t arrive in time for us to send Ahmed back? It must take three of us for any spell to work. What if Ahmed doesn’t arrive here in time to be returned?”
    â€œWhat if!” Jenny echoed. “What if you stop carrying on like a worrywart?”
    Allie pressed her lips together and stayed silent with a distinct effort. At exactly nine thirty by their small travelling clock, there was a tap on their door. They looked up anxiously as Marilyn came in. She looked happy but different somehow. It took a few seconds to realize that her hair was now a glossy light brown instead of jet black.
    â€œWhere have you been?” Allie burst out. “We’ve been so worried about everything.”
    â€œSorry. I had to wash and bed down the brats and then clean myself up before I could get away,” Marilyn apologized. “Blew my fifty dollar win on dinner for the family and managed to get Dad...”
    â€œI thought he wasn’t around,” Jenny asked.
    Marilyn flushed. “I mean my stepdad.”
    â€œThe nerd?” Jenny asked.
    â€œThe ex-nerd,” Marilyn corrected. “I was so frantic, he asked