Journey to the River Sea

Mr Haltmann came from Vienna and he was a first-class musician. He not only taught Maia the piano; he understood her need to learn the songs she heard everywhere: in the streets of Manaus, on the river boats, in the huts of the workers.

‘It is a rich land for music, Brazil. Everything flows into everything else. In one song you can hear the rhythm of the Africans, the poetry of the Portuguese and the sadness of the Indians.’

He promised to look at the songs she had written down, and he suggested too that she had singing lessons and train her voice – but this she wouldn’t do.

‘My mother was a singer – she was wonderful and I don’t want to try and copy her,’ she said.

The other good thing which came out of her time with the Haltmanns was Netta’s friendship. The Austrian girl welcomed her wholeheartedly; she had a litter of kittens in a basket, a basset hound with soulful eyes, and a baby brother as fat as butter. Netta walked with her afterwards to the dancing class, and if Maia forgot to put on a gloomy face when she saw the twins sitting with their legs stuck out in the locker room, waiting to have their shoes put on, she was in trouble.

‘What are you smirking about?’ asked Beatrice now. ‘I suppose you’re waiting for Sergei to ask you to dance.’

The twins’ plans for getting rid of Maia were not going well. They had been to her room and picked over her things, but Miss Minton had heard them, and since they themselves never went out of doors, it was difficult to spy on Maia properly. The notice of the reward for the capture of Taverner’s son was still on the hoardings, but time was running out. Mr Low and Mr Trapwood were supposed to be leaving on the Bishop in three days’ time.

Sergei did ask Maia to dance. Not only that, but he asked her to a party.

‘It’s on Friday night – it’s for Olga’s birthday. I know it’s very short notice, but my father has to go to Belem the next day and we wanted him to be here.’

Maia hesitated. Friday night was the night Clovis was to hide in the museum. For her to be in Manaus then would be perfect if she was to betray Clovis to the twins – but only if the twins were there as well.

‘I’d love to,’ she said, ‘but I don’t think I can come without Beatrice and Gwendolyn. I’m sort of their guest – you know how it is.’

Sergei looked mulish. ‘They’re horrible. I hate them. But if you won’t come without them... I’ll ask Olga.’

Olga also disliked the twins, but she too said that if Maia couldn’t come without them she’d better bring them along.

‘If Miss Minton comes too, it ought to be all right,’ said Sergei. ‘She’ll keep them in order and she gets on well with our Mademoiselle Lille. And there’s no trouble about getting you home – my father will send you back in one of our boats.’

The Keminskys were one of the richest families in Manaus. Sergei’s father, Count Keminsky, owned huge plantations of rubber trees; he treated his workers well and the money flowed in – not only from rubber but from hardwoods and coffee and sugar cane. Maia had passed their house; a big mansion with pink walls and blue shutters, and a garden full of flowering trees. There couldn’t be anywhere better for a party.

If the twins were pleased to be invited, they didn’t show it. Only Mrs Carter’s eyes gleamed. She hated the Russian family – but a count was a count, and who knew what might come out of it for her girls?

Finn’s dog was called Rob, but no one used his name much. He was somehow all dogs rolled into one with his trust and intelligence and faithfulness; and though he could hunt his own food and steady the canoe by putting his weight in the right place, he understood that when humans were upset one had to sit there while they pulled one’s ears, or buried their faces in one’s back, or even cried. A dog who will allow himself to be cried over is worth his weight in gold.

He had been Bernard Taverner’s dog and now was Finn’s, and other people did not interest him very much. But he was always very polite to Maia, and as she rubbed his back and said, ‘I don’t know how I’m going to get the twins to do what I want,’ he caught the worry in her voice and did not move away though he had heard some interesting noises in the bushes behind the hut.

‘It’s quite easy,’ said Clovis – and Maia looked up, surprised, for Clovis was not usually a boy who found things easy. ‘It’s just acting.’

‘Yes, but I can’t act.’

‘Anyone can act,’ said Clovis. ‘There are just a few tricks. Techniques they’re called, but they’re just tricks really.’

They had just finished afternoon tea in the hut, which was Clovis’ favourite meal, but when it was cleared he said, ‘Look. Watch me.’

He went to the window of the hut and looked out, seeming to be interested in what he saw. Then he came back and sat down. After a while he got up and did the same thing. The third time Maia got up and followed him to the window.