Journey to the River Sea

Watching from her window, Maia saw him come out of Lila’s hut, and for a moment she thought he was going to go without saying goodbye. Then he walked across the compound and stood under her window and she heard him whistle the tune that he had whistled on the night she came.

‘Blow the wind southerly, southerly, southerly,

Blow the wind south o’er the bonny blue sea ...’

She ran outside then and hugged him and wished him luck, and she did not cry.

‘You’re not to spoil it for him,’ Minty had said, and she didn’t.

But when he had gone, she stood for a long time by the window, trying to remember the words of the song. It was a song begging the wind to bring back someone who had gone away in a ship, but she did not think it ended happily.

Well, why should it? Why should the wind care if she never saw Finn again?

Chapter Fifteen

Sir Aubrey had sent the carriage to the station. He himself was going to wait for his grandson in the drawing room.

If it was his grandson.

Clovis sat between Mr Trapwood and Mr Low. The crows were going to hand him over personally before returning to town.

It was cool. It was in fact very cool with an east wind blowing off Westwood Moor, and Clovis drank in the air with relief. No sticky heat, and no insects. He was in England at last.

They had driven for at least twenty minutes down an avenue of lime trees. Clovis could see the glimmer of water between the coppices. That must be the lake where the Basher had held Bernard’s head under water.

Then suddenly the carriage curved round a bend and Westwood lay before him.

It was exactly as Finn had described it: an East Wing, a West Wing, and a block in the middle – but it was very large: larger than he had been able to imagine.

For a moment Clovis found his stomach lurching. The crows were easy to hoodwink; they had fawned on him all through the journey and spent their spare time in the bar. But Finn’s grandfather would see through him; he was sure of that.

They passed the fountain with the person on it who was strangling a snake. He seemed to have lost his head, which was a pity. Then the carriage stopped outside the main entrance.

And Clovis saw a crowd of people massed on the stone steps which led to the front door! There were women in blue aprons, women in black dresses, men in livery and overalls and tailcoats ...

Of course! The servants all lined up to greet him!

Clovis’ panic grew worse. He hadn’t realized that there could be so many servants in the world. Then he remembered that this had happened in Little Lord Fauntleroy when Ceddie arrived from America, and in a play called The Young Master when the lost heir returned to his home.

The coachman opened the door. Mr Low and Mr Trapwood waited respectfully for him to get out first.

Clovis squared his shoulders. He took a deep breath as he had always done before he went on stage, and moved forward.

And upstairs, in the drawing room, Sir Aubrey put his telescope to his eye.

When the boat docked at Liverpool, the crows had stopped at a gentleman’s outfitter and bought a tweed suit and cap for Clovis – the best that the shop could supply. Now, as he peered through the eyepiece, Sir Aubrey saw a handsome lad, blue-eyed and sturdy, who carried himself like a prince. The boy shook hands with the butler, the housekeeper and the cook, exactly as he should have done; then, at the top of the steps, he turned and thanked the lesser servants for their welcome before following the butler into the house.

And Sir Aubrey’s heart leapt. He had been worried, no good denying it – Bernard might have produced anything – but this boy looked splendid. He would not chatter to the servants as his father had done; he was gracious but he kept his distance.

In the Hall the steward waited to show Mr Low and Mr Trapwood into the office. The crows had hoped to be asked to stay to supper, but Sir Aubrey did not dine with detectives. However, they were paid off and got their bonus, along with a glass of beer, before they said goodbye to Clovis and were driven back to the station for the London train. The butler (who was not the old one who had sacked Bella but a younger man with black hair) now led Clovis past the chest into which Dudley had locked Bernard, past the knight in armour out of which Dudley had jumped, and the picture of the man with the Turk’s head impaled on a lance. Then he knocked on a heavy oaken door, announced, ‘Master Taverner, Sir Aubrey,’ and withdrew.

Over what seemed like acres and acres of rich, dark carpet, Clovis looked at Sir Aubrey Taverner – and Sir Aubrey Taverner looked at him. Clovis saw a stout, red-faced man with a white moustache and bushy eyebrows. He was leaning on a stick so Clovis thought he must have gout; everyone older than fifty seemed to have gout in the sort of plays Clovis had acted in, and he decided to be very careful and not bump into him.