[Flying Dutchman 01] - Castaways of the Flying Dutchman

She shook her head and smiled. “Ned can’t help with the dishes.” Turning away from the sink, Mrs. Winn found herself staring into the boy’s wise blue eyes.

“You’d be surprised how me and Ned can help you!” he said.

15

AS SUNLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH the window onto the counterpane, a dairy cart clattered by in the lane. Ben wakened gradually, taking stock of his new surroundings. The house was quiet, which gave him the feeling it was quite early. He let his gaze wander from the lace curtains and the warm July day outside. Stretching lazily, he lay back, studying the flowered wallpaper and the small iron-and-tile fireplace with a lacquered screen standing on its hearth. He heard the hall clock chime faintly from downstairs and counted each chime. . . . Ten!

Leaping out of bed, he dressed hastily, rushed to the bathroom, splashed water on his face, and dashed downstairs, having to leap the last three to avoid tripping over Horatio.

Ned was sitting in the kitchen beside an empty bowl. He nodded at Ben. “Morning. Sleep well?”

The boy answered the thought as he picked up a note from the table. “Why didn’t you come up and wake me earlier?”

The dog put his front paws up on the table alongside his mate. “Didn’t want to disturb any plans you were sleeping on, you know, to help Mrs. Winn. What does her note say?”

Ben scanned the scrap of paper. “ ‘Gone to village to do some shopping, porridge in pot on range, make tea for yourself. See you later. Winnie.’ ”

He felt the pot, it was still hot. So was the tea in the teapot. The boy served himself and sat at the table, thinking. “She can’t have gone too long ago.”

The big black Lab blinked patiently. “Not more than ten minutes or so. Well, what’s the plan, O wise master?”

Over the centuries, Ben had come to appreciate the dog’s banter. Dishing himself a large bowl of porridge, he conversed as he ate.

“A library, that’s it, Ned. If Chapelvale has a library, that’d be a good place for us to start. It would probably have local history and reference books concerning this area. Might give us a lead or two.”

The Lab snorted. “A lead: was that meant to be a joke? Libraries aren’t fond of dogs roaming ’round loose among the books. Not great readers, us dogs.”

Ben poured tea, stirring in lots of sugar. “Right, Ned, so what are your plans for the day?”

The dog trotted out of the kitchen, passing on his thoughts. “Open the front door, mate, I think I’ll take a stroll ’round the village. Keep the old ears open, y’know. Might hear some information to pass on to the young master, eh?”

Ben grinned. “I’m older than you. Let me see, I was born in 1607, that makes me two hundred and eighty-nine years old. You were only four when I met you. That makes you, er, two hundred and eighty. So be more respectful to your elders, pup!”

Ned turned and poked his head around the doorway. “Pup indeed! Listen, laddie, one human year is equal to eight dog years. So that makes me . . . er, hmmm . . . a lot older than you by far, so show a little respect and mind your manners!”

The boy, his hair an unruly thatch, watched his friend trot off down the path. “Go easy now, old fellow, it’ll soon be time for your nap. Hahaha!”

The dog turned and wrinkled his nose. “Silence, insolent child!”

After breakfast Ben saw Alex and Amy Somers in the lane, and nodded back at the house. “D’you like my new place?”

Amy giggled. “That’s Miz Winn’s house, she’s nice. We went there with Dad when he treated her cat. Are you staying there, Ben?”

The boy flicked the hair from his eyes. “For a while. Listen, you two, I need your help again. You know Chapelvale, is there a local library hereabouts?”

The girl pointed. “Over by the school, actually it’s attached to our village school. The librarian is Mr. Braithwaite. He works in the library right through the summer holidays. You’ll like him, he’s funny.”

Alex led the way. “Come on, we’ll take you there. What do you want, some kind of special book? Where’s your dog today?”

Ben strolled along with the friendly pair. “Oh, he’s around somewhere. He often goes off on lone rambles. I was wondering if I might get hold of a book about the local history of Chapelvale. I’m trying to help Mrs. Winn prove her claim to the land hereabout.”

Amy pulled a face. “Oh that, you should hear the names our dad calls Mr. Smithers. If Smithers has his way, it looks like we will be moving to Hadford soon.”

Ben noticed the angry look on the girl’s pretty face. “Hadford, where’s that?”

Alex explained. “It’s the nearest big town, all factories and streets full of chimney smoke. Dad won’t lose his job, he’s the veterinary surgeon for most of the county, but if Smithers buys every shop in the village and sets up his quarry and cement works, everyone will have to move. I’d hate to live in Hadford! Chapelvale’s a good little village. We like it here.”

Ben nodded. “Good! Then let’s see what we can do to save the old place. Will you help me?”

His new friend’s eyes shone with excitement. “I’ll say we will!”