Journey to the River Sea

And Furo, thank heaven, was in his hut and ready to take her to Finn.

This time the dog greeted her as a friend, placing his cold nose in her hand, and the happiness she always felt when she came to this place rose up in her.

‘It’s all settled,’ she said. ‘The professor was wonderful – he showed me everything. And I stole the keys,’ she added proudly. ‘At least I think I did, though he did tell me where they were so that may not be proper stealing.’

She handed them to Finn, hoping for praise, but he had obviously expected her to do what he had asked.

‘Good. The trapdoor may be difficult to lift, we’d better take some oil. It’s still under the sloth, is it?’

‘Yes. And the professor is still worried about the missing rib. How’s Clovis?’

‘He’s washing his hair. He’s always washing it,’ said Finn gloomily. ‘I thought you might cut it for him.’

‘I’ve never cut anyone’s hair before.’

‘There’s always a first time.’

Clovis came out of the hut then, with a towel round his head and very pleased to see Maia.

‘She’s done it,’ said Finn. ‘The hiding place is set up, she’s got the keys. The boat goes at dawn on Saturday, so on Friday we’ll get you settled there. We’ll need blankets, a lamp, some food. I’m going to let everyone think it’s me hiding there, even the Indians; that will make it safer. I’ll tell them that the crows have heard about the lagoon.’

But Clovis was looking definitely green. ‘How long do I have to be in the cellar?’ he asked fearfully.

‘Not even a whole night. The crows are due back on Friday afternoon; they’ll come looking for you almost straight away. You’ll see it will work.’

‘Clovis, it’s the best thing, honestly,’ said Maia. ‘The Goodleys have been turned back at the border. They’ve been locked up until they can sell their assets and clear their debts. They think you’re staying with me so they won’t bother about you any more.’

‘I suppose I could stay here,’ said Clovis doubtfully, looking round the hut.

‘No, you couldn’t,’ said Finn. ‘I won’t be here, I told you. I’m setting off in the Arabella.’ He turned to Maia. ‘Come and see her,’ he said. ‘We’ve done quite a bit to her.’

Maia followed him onto the launch. The rain had stopped. Finn had painted the floorboards and mended the awning. ‘She’s almost ready,’ he said.

‘Are you sure you can sail her alone? With having to get wood and everything?’

‘Yes. I couldn’t take you anyway,’ he said, reading her like a book. ‘I don’t even know exactly where I’m going and you’re a—’

‘Don’t say it,’ said Maia angrily. ‘Don’t you dare say I’m a girl.’

Finn shrugged. ‘All right, I won’t. But it could be dangerous and I won’t involve other people.’ He looked back at the hut where Clovis was towelling his hair. ‘He’s absolutely hopeless at the chores, but he’s amazing at memorizing things. I reckon he knows everything about Westwood already. We did Sir Aubrey this morning – his eyes, his whiskers. An actor’s training is not to be sneezed at.’ Then: ‘How long have you got?’

‘Long enough to help you polish the funnel,’ said Maia, and took a cloth.

Chapter Eleven

By the time Clovis had been in Finn’s hut for three days, he knew Westwood by heart. He could go upstairs and downstairs, into the attics where the maid Bella had hidden Bernard’s secret pile of money, and into the cellar where he had made friends with the bats. He knew the outhouse where Bernard had kept a pet rat and the tree to which Dudley and Joan had tied a little girl from the village and beaten her with willow twigs because she had been trespassing by the lake.

And he could imitate any accent.

‘After he’s been there a week, he’ll be talking like Sir Aubrey or braying like Joan,’ Finn said to Maia.

The Goodleys had taught Clovis to fence and he had been in so many plays set in grand houses that his table manners were excellent. If he got to West-wood, Finn was sure he could hold out for a little while. Finn had shown him a map of the north of England and Clovis had discovered that the village where his foster mother lived was only thirty miles away, which had cheered him up a lot.

‘But he’s such a coward,’ Finn said to Maia. They were scraping the old paint off Arabella’s deck-fittings, a job which Clovis did not care for.

‘I don’t think it’s cowardly to be afraid of hiding in a dark cellar and waiting to be snatched by two horrible crows,’ said Maia.

Finn frowned. ‘You’re always defending him,’ he said crossly.

‘Well, he’s alone in the world.’

‘So am I alone in the world,’ said Finn.

‘No, you aren’t. You’ve got Lila who adores you and Professor Glastonberry and the chief of police, and all the Indians here. And when you get to the Xanti you’ll probably have lots and lots of relatives. Aunts and uncles and cousins – and maybe grandparents too. A huge family . . .’

‘Do you think so? I hadn’t thought of it like that.’ Finn did not look particularly pleased.

Maia nodded. ‘It’s sure to be like that. Whereas Clovis and I don’t have anybody.’

‘You’ve got Miss Minton.’