‘Kiki’s taken your pencil,’ said Dinah. ‘Kiki, don’t be such a nuisance. We shan’t take you to see the puffins if you behave like this.’
‘Huffin and puffin, puffin and huffin, muffin and puffin, muffins and crumpets,’ pronounced Kiki, and cracked her beak in delight at having said something new. ‘Huffin and puff—’
‘Oh stop huffing and puffing,’ called Dinah.
‘God save the Queen,’ said Kiki, and stood up very straight.
‘Goodness knows what the birds up there will think of you,’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘Jack, shall we put her into a basket to take her with us on the train? You know how she will keep shouting “Guard, guard” and pretending to blow a whistle, and telling everyone to wipe their feet.’
‘She can go on my shoulder,’ said Jack. ‘We shall be sleeping on the train, in beds or berths, and she’ll be quite all right. Stop cracking your beak, Kiki. It’s not clever to keep on making a nuisance of yourself.’
‘Naughty Polly!’ said Kiki. ‘Sing Polly-wolly-oodle-all-the-day!’
Philip threw a cushion at her and she retired to the top of the curtains and sulked. The children went on discussing their coming holiday.
‘Fancy having the luck to be with Bill after all!’ said Jack. ‘Much better than Dr Johns. I wonder if he’ll have a boat and go exploring round. Golly, I’m going to enjoy the next week or two. We might even see a Great Auk!’
‘You and your Great Auks!’ said Philip. You know quite well they’re extinct. Don’t start all that again, Jack. We might find Little Auks up there, though – and razor-bills – and thousands of guillemots on the cliffs.’
The next day came at last and then dragged on till the evening. Mrs Mannering slept most of the time and Miss Tremayne would not let them go in and wake her to say goodbye.
‘Better not,’ she said. ‘I’ll say goodbye for you. Mind you write to her from wherever you’re going. Is that the taxi I hear now? I’ll come and see you off.’
It was the taxi. They bundled in with all their luggage. Now to London – to meet Dr Walker – and to travel hundreds of miles to the north, to wild places where few people had ever been. No adventures this time, but just a glorious, carefree holiday with old Bill.
‘All aboard!’ said Kiki, in a deep voice that made the taxi-driver jump. ‘One – two – three – OFF!’
6
Travelling far
Bill had told the children exactly where to wait for him at Euston Station, so, each carrying a bag and a mackintosh, they went to the spot.
They stood there waiting. ‘Suppose,’ said Philip, in a mysterious voice, ‘just suppose that one of the gang that Bill is after, knew Bill was going to meet us here – and came up and told us he was Bill – and took us all off with him, so that we were never heard of again!’
Poor Lucy-Ann stared at him in the greatest alarm. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. ‘Oh, Philip – do you think that might happen? Gracious, I hope to goodness we recognise Bill when we see him. I shall be scared stiff of going with him if we don’t.’
A very fat man approached them, smiling. He was big all over, big head, big body, big feet – and big teeth that showed when he smiled. Lucy-Ann felt her heart sink. This couldn’t be Bill! Nobody could make himself as big as that, if he wasn’t fat to begin with. She clutched Philip’s hand. Was it one of the gang?
‘Little girl,’ said the big man to Lucy-Ann, ‘you’ve dropped your mackintosh behind you. You’ll lose it if you don’t pick it up.’
Lucy-Ann had gone pale when he first began to speak. Then she looked round and saw her mac on the ground. She picked it up. Then, scarlet in the face, she stammered out a few words of thanks.
The big man smiled again, showing all his fine teeth. ‘Don’t look so scared,’ he said. ‘I shan’t eat you!’
‘He looks just as if he might,’ thought Lucy-Ann, retreating behind Jack.
‘Pop goes the weasel,’ said Kiki, in a polite conversational tone. ‘Pop, pop, pop!’
‘What a remarkably clever bird!’ said the big man, and put out his hand to pat Kiki. She gave him a vicious nip with her beak, and then whistled like an engine.
The big man’s smile vanished and he scowled. ‘Dangerous bird, that,’ he said, and disappeared into the crowd. The children were relieved. They didn’t think, of course, that he was one of the gang – that had only been Philip’s make-up – but they were worried in case he kept them talking, and prevented Bill from coming up and fetching them.
They stood there, under the clock, looking all round for Bill. They couldn’t see anyone even remotely resembling him. Then a rather shambling, round-shouldered man came up, wearing thick glasses through which his eyes peered sharply.
He wore a thick long coat, had field-glasses slung across his back, and a curious black-checked cap. He also had a black beard. But he spoke in Bill’s voice.
‘Good evening, children. I am glad to see you are punctual. Now at last we start on our little expedition.’
Lucy-Ann beamed. That was Bill’s nice warm voice all right, in spite of the beard and the strange get-up. She was just about to fling herself on him, crying, ‘Oh, Bill, it’s good to see you,’ when Jack, feeling sure that Lucy-Ann was going to do something impulsive like that, pushed her away and held out his hand politely.
‘Good evening, Dr Walker. How are you?’
The others took their cue from Jack, and anyone looking on would have thought that here were four children greeting a tutor or a guardian who was going to take them on a journey somewhere.
‘Come this way,’ said Dr Walker. ‘I have a porter for your things. Hey, porter, put these bags on your barrow, will you, and find our reservations in the ten o’clock train. Thank you.’
It wasn’t long before they were all safely on the night train. The children were thrilled with their little ‘bedrooms’. Lucy-Ann liked the way everything could fold down or fold back, or be somehow pushed out of the way.
‘Now, you must sleep all night,’ said Bill, his eyes smiling at them from behind his thick glasses. ‘Dr Walker will see that you are awake in time for breakfast.’
‘How do we get to the place we’re going to, and where exactly is it?’ asked Jack.
‘Well, we get there by this train and another, and then by motor-boat,’ said Bill. The children looked thrilled. They loved travelling.
‘I’ve got a map here,’ said Bill, making sure that the door was shut. ‘It’s a map of all the many little islands dotted off the north-west coast of Scotland – hundreds of them. Some are too small to map. I don’t expect anyone has ever visited all of them – only the birds live there. I thought we’d make one of them our headquarters, and then cruise around a bit, taking photographs, and watching the birds in their daily life.’
The eyes of the two boys gleamed. What a glorious thing to do! They visualised days of sunshine on the water, chugging to and from tiny islands inhabited by half-tame birds, picnicking hungrily in the breeze, sitting on rocks with their feet dangling in the clear water. Their hearts lifted in happiness at the thought.
‘What I should really like,’ said Philip, ‘would be a tame puffin or two. I’ve never seen a live puffin – only a stuffed one – but they look real characters.’
‘I suppose you would teach them to sit up and beg,’ said Bill, amused.
‘Huffin and puffin,’ announced Kiki. ‘God save the Queen.’
Nobody took any notice. They were all too much absorbed in thinking of the unusual holiday.
‘I shall remain behind there, once you have gone back,’ said Bill. ‘It’ll be a bit lonely without you all, but no doubt you will leave me your tame puffins for company.’
‘I shall hate leaving you,’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘Will you have to be there all alone for long, Bill?’
‘A goodish time, I expect,’ said Bill. ‘Long enough for my enemies to forget about me, or to think I’m dead and gone.’
‘Oh dear!’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘I wish you didn’
t have to lead such a dangerous life, Bill. Can’t you do something else instead?’
‘What? Be a gardener, or a tram conductor or something safe like that, do you mean?’ asked Bill, grinning at Lucy-Ann’s serious face. ‘No, Lucy-Ann – this kind of life suits me. I’m on the side of law and order and right – and to my mind they’re worth while running any risk for. Evil is strong and powerful, but I’m strong and powerful too, and it’s good to try one’s strength against bad men and their ways.’
‘Well, I think you’re marvellous,’ said Lucy-Ann stoutly. ‘And I’m sure you’ll always win. Don’t you hate having to hide now?’
‘I’m furious about it,’ said Bill, looking anything but furious, but with a note in his voice that made the others realise how desperate he felt, having to ‘disappear’ when there was work to be done, ‘but – order are orders. And anyway, my disappearance means a perfectly glorious holiday for all of us. Well, boys, have you finished studying that map?’
The two boys had been poring over the map of islands. Jack put his finger on one. ‘Look – that sounds a good one – the Isle of Wings – it must be full of birds!’
‘We’ll try and go there,’ said Bill. ‘We shall probably get well and truly lost, but never mind. Who minds being lost on the blue-green sea in May-time, with all kinds of little enchanted islands ready to welcome you?’
‘It sounds glorious,’ said Dinah. ‘Oh, look at Kiki. She’s trying to pull the plug off its chain in that basin.’
Kiki had thoroughly explored the whole of the ‘bedroom’, and had had a good drink out of one of the water decanters. Now she settled down on the little towel-rail and, with a remarkably human yawn, put her head under her wing. At the same moment there came a loud banging of doors all down the train. She took her head out again.
‘Shut the door,’ she remarked. ‘Pop goes the door. Send for the doctor.’
The whistle blew, and to Kiki’s alarm the whole ‘bedroom’ suddenly shook as the train pulled out of the station. She almost fell off the towel-rail.
‘Poor Kiki, what a pity, what a pity!’ she said, and flew to Jack’s shoulder.
‘Now it’s time we all retired to bed and to sleep,’ said Bill, getting up. He looked very queer in his black beard and thick glasses. Thank goodness he had taken off the awful black-checked cap.
‘Do two of us sleep here, or four of us?’ asked Lucy-Ann, looking doubtfully at the small beds, one on each side of the ‘bedroom’.
‘Two of us,’ said Bill. ‘I’ve got a single room on the right of you – and to the right again is another compartment, or room, for the two boys. I’m in the middle of you, you see – and you’ve only to bang hard on the wooden wall between us, if you want anything, and I’ll come rushing in.’
‘Oh, good!’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘I’m glad you’re so near us. Bill, are you going to sleep in your beard?’
‘Well, as it’s rather painful to remove at the moment, being well and truly stuck on, I think I will,’ said Bill. ‘I’ll take it off when we’re safely among our little islands. No one will see us there. Don’t you like me in my beautiful beard?’
‘Not much,’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘I feel as if you’re not you when I look at you, but when I hear your voice, it’s all right.’
‘Well, my child, look at me with your eyes shut, and you’ll have no horrid feelings,’ said Bill, with a grin. ‘Now good night, and sleep well. Come on, boys, I’ll take you to your compartment. I’ll wake you in the morning, and we’ll dress and go along to the restaurant car for breakfast.’
‘I feel a bit hungry now,’ said Philip, ‘although we had a jolly good supper. But that’s ages ago.’
‘Well, I’ve got some sandwiches and some bananas,’ said Bill. ‘I’ll get them. But don’t be long turning in, because it’s getting late.’
‘Only just gone ten,’ said Dinah, but she yawned loudly as she spoke. Kiki promptly imitated her, and that set everyone else yawning too.
Bill went into his own compartment and fetched sandwiches and ripe bananas. Then he said good night to the girls and took the boys to their own ‘bedroom.’ It really was very exciting to go to bed in a train. It was queer undressing with the train swaying about, rushing through the night at sixty miles an hour.
It was nice to be in bed, listening to the ‘tutta-tut-tah! tutta-tut-tah!’ of the train wheels turning rapidly over the rails.
‘Travelling far, travelling far, travelling far,’ said the wheels to Lucy-Ann, as her eyes closed, and her mind swung towards sleep. ‘Travelling far . . .’
In spite of all the excitement the four children were soon fast asleep and dreaming. What were they dreaming of? That was easy to guess. Blue-green water, clear as crystal, enchanting little islands, big white clouds flying across an enormous blue sky, and birds, birds, birds . . . travelling far, travelling far, travelling far.
7
On the sea at last
The journey was half over before the children awoke again. Bill banged on the walls, and they woke with a jump. They dressed and walked staggeringly along to the restaurant car, feeling very hungry. Lucy-Ann didn’t much like walking across the bits that joined two carriages together. She clutched Bill’s hand then.
‘I’m always afraid the train might come in two, just when I’m walking through the bit where two carriages are joined,’ she explained. Bill quite understood, though the others were very scornful of Lucy-Ann’s extraordinary idea.
Kiki behaved very badly at breakfast, throwing the toast about, and squawking because she was not allowed any of the rather small helping of marmalade. She made rude noises at the sunflower seeds Jack offered her. The other passengers were amused at her and laughed – but that only made Kiki show off all the more.
‘Stop it, Kiki,’ said Bill, exasperated, and tapped her smartly on the beak. Kiki screeched and made a pounce at his beard. A vicious tug and some of it came away. Kiki hadn’t been able to understand why Bill had arrived with a strange mass of hair under his chin, and round his cheeks. Now, having got some of it, she retired under the table and began to peck it gently, separating the hairs one by one and murmuring to herself all the time.
‘Let her be,’ said Bill. ‘She’ll be happy pulling that bit of my beard to pieces.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘That hurt. I hope I don’t look too peculiar now?’
‘Oh no – it doesn’t really show much,’ Jack assured him. ‘Kiki always gets excited on a journey like this. She’s awful when I bring her back from school – whistles like the guard, and tells all the people in the carriage to blow their noses and wipe their feet, and screeches in the tunnels till we’re almost deafened.’
‘But she’s a darling really,’ said Lucy-Ann loyally, and didn’t say a word about Kiki undoing her shoe-laces and pulling them out of her shoes at that very moment!
The journey was a long one. There was a change to be made at a very big and noisy station. The next train was not quite so long as the first one and did not go so fast. It took them to a place on the coast, and the children were delighted to see the blue sea shining like a thin bright line in the distance. Hurrah! They all loved the sea.
‘Now I feel that our holiday has really begun,’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘Now that we’ve seen the sea, I mean. It gives me a proper holiday feeling.’
Everyone felt the same, even Kiki, who leapt about like a warrior doing a war-dance on the luggage-rack above the children’s heads. She flew down to Jack’s shoulder when they got out of the train at a big seaside town.
The strong breeze blew in their faces, and the girls’ hair streamed back. Bill’s beard blew back too, and Kiki was careful to stand with her beak to the wind. She hated her feathers being ruffled the wrong way.
They had a very good meal in a hotel, and then Bill went down to the harbour to see if his motor-boat was there. It had just come in. The man who brought it knew Bill very well, and had been told in what disguise he was to be seen.
‘Morning, Dr Walker, sir,’ he said in loud tones. ?
??Fine weather for your expedition. Everything’s ready, sir.’
‘Plenty of provisions, Henty?’ asked Dr Walker, blinking though his thick glasses.
‘Enough to stand a siege, sir,’ said Henty. ‘I’m to pilot you out, sir – I’ve got a boat behind.’
Everyone went on board. It was a fine motor-boat, with a little cabin in front. Jack’s eyes gleamed when he saw the stock of food – tins, tins, tins! The little refrigerator was full of stuff too. Good! There would be plenty to eat anyway, and that, in Jack’s opinion, was one of the main things to be planned for, on a holiday. People always got so terribly hungry when they were holidaying. Henty piloted them out of the harbour, his tiny boat bobbing about. When they were beyond the harbour Henty saluted and got into his boat.
‘Well – good luck, sir,’ he said. ‘The wireless is OK, sir – we’ll be expecting a message regularly, to know you’re all right. There are extra batteries, and a repair set as well. Good luck, sir. I’ll be here in two weeks’ time to pick up the kids.’
He rowed off, his oars making a soft plash-plash-plash in the water. He soon looked very small indeed, as Bill’s motor-boat sped away.
‘Well – we’re off!’ said Bill, with great satisfaction. ‘And my beard can come off too – and my glasses, thank goodness. And my coat. Here, Philip, you know how to steer a motor-boat, don’t you? Take the wheel whilst I make myself presentable again. No one is likely to see me now. Keep her going north-north-west.’
Proudly Philip took the wheel. The engine of the boat purred smoothly, and they sped fast over the blue water. It was a wonderful day, almost as hot as summer. The May sun shone down out of a sky flecked with tiny curly clouds, and little points of light danced on the waves.
‘Gorgeous!’ said Jack, sitting down with a grunt of joy near Philip. ‘Simply absolutely perfectly gorgeous.’
‘I’ve got such a lovely feeling,’ said Lucy-Ann, looking the picture of happiness. ‘You know – that feeling you get at the very beginning of a lovely holiday – when all the days spread out before you, sunny and lazy and sort of enchanted.’