Lotti and Ben woke before dawn the following morning to a rap from Frank on the cabin hatch. For a moment, Ben forgot where he was. Then Elsie shifted beside him and he remembered.
He was leaving her.
‘To find Sam,’ he reminded himself, but it still felt like a betrayal.
They had let the stove go cold overnight, to prevent sparks from flying if they hit rough waters on the Thames, and so it was a cheerless breakfast on the Sparrowhawk on the morning of their great adventure, bread and jam washed down with water and a hefty dose of heartache. All around them on the basin, other crews were waking, voices calling out to each other. On board the Sparrowhawk, dogs and crew sat in silence in the galley.
Another knock, then Frank swung down the steps, a rucksack over his shoulder.
‘It’s time,’ he said.
Ben, with a heart of lead, clicked his tongue. ‘Come on then, girl.’
Very softly, Elsie began to whine.
‘She’s crying,’ said Lotti, close to tears herself.
‘Rubbish,’ said Frank. ‘Dogs don’t cry. Come on, Elsie. You’ll have a grand time with Jim.’
Still whining, Elsie backed into Nathan’s workshop. Frank, with a groan of impatience, stepped after her and picked her up. Followed close behind by Ben, he carried her through the cabin and deposited her on the quayside.
‘Lawks, she’s heavy,’ he grunted. ‘At least without her we’ll be lighter in the water.’
Nobody smiled at his attempt at a joke. Jim folded Ben into a hug.
‘Oh, for Pete’s sake!’ sighed Frank. ‘Don’t tell me you’re going soft too.’
‘It’s a big thing, saying goodbye to your dog,’ said Jim.
But it really was time. Ben buried his face in Elsie’s neck. Lotti, watching from the foredeck of the Sparrowhawk, tightened her arms round Federico. Federico whimpered. Elsie’s whine turned into a howl as Ben, after a last caress, stumbled back on to the Sparrowhawk.
‘Want to drive, son?’ asked Frank.
Ben shook his head, incapable of speech.
Frank untied the moorings and fired the engine. As the Sparrowhawk pulled away, Ben kept his eyes fixed on the black and white figure on the quayside and saw, as Elsie strained against the lead, that the golden eyes he had loved since she was a puppy were watching him too.
He turned away so that no one would see him cry, then whipped back round at the sound of a yell from Jim.
His heart hammered. Elsie, her hefty weight notwithstanding, was galloping along the quayside, her lead trailing behind her. Jim, rubbing his arm, wasn’t even trying to catch her.
‘I don’t blinking believe it,’ Frank said. ‘Not again.’
‘She bit me!’ Jim shouted, but he didn’t sound as if he minded. ‘She blinking bit me!’
Elsie was level with the Sparrowhawk now, gathering on her haunches, preparing to jump …
‘Stay, girl, stay!’ yelled Ben. ‘You’ll hurt yourself.’
Never underestimate a determined dog.
Elsie launched herself off the quayside as the Sparrowhawk pulled out of Brentford Basin and, to the cheers of half a dozen narrowboat crews, landed with absolute precision on the roof. When she had landed she lay down, panting, her eyes fixed on Ben as if to say, ‘Don’t ever try to leave me again.’
Laughing, or perhaps crying, Ben climbed up to join her.
‘Good on you, Elsie!’ yelled Jim. ‘Sorry, Frank,’ he added, seeing his brother’s face.
But Frank knew when he was beaten.
‘Get those blinking dogs in the blinking cabin.’ He pulled his cap more firmly over his smooth bald head then, still grumbling, steered the Sparrowhawk into the lock and out again on to the Thames.
*
For as long as they lived, Lotti and Ben never forgot that ride through London.
The current leaped, tugging the Sparrowhawk sideways. The engine roared. Ben, who had chosen to stay below with the dogs because he couldn’t bear to leave Elsie, sat on the floor with one arm round her and the other round Federico, holding his breath as he felt the hull beneath him shake. The dogs whimpered and pressed into him. Lotti, standing beside Frank at the tiller, gasped at the water’s pull and tried not to think of the smashed barrel and the gulls swept away yesterday on the tide. But then, before any of them had time to be properly afraid, the Sparrowhawk reached the far side, Frank straightened up and they were off, no longer fighting the current but carried by it, flying into the sunrise. Lotti peered into the cabin and begged Ben to come and see.
‘Look how beautiful,’ she said, as he came up the steps. ‘The sky, Ben! It’s so much bigger than on the canals.’
Out along the tree-lined river they swept, past the botanical gardens and under the bridge at Kew, sweeping round past Barnes and under the railway bridge to the suspension bridge at Hammersmith, under the stone pillars of Putney Bridge with its medieval churches standing guard at either end, under more railway bridges at Fulham and Battersea. After racing past the embankment at Chelsea, at last it felt like they were entering the proper city. They raced under Lambeth Bridge, and Lotti squealed as the Palace of Westminster came into view.
‘We’re going past the HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT!’
Lotti knocked into Frank as she jumped up and down, and the Sparrowhawk briefly rocked as she veered off course.
‘Sit down, Charlie, for heaven’s sake,’ Frank shouted.
‘BIG BEN!’ Lotti screeched.
Frank’s mouth twitched in an almost smile.
On and on they swept as the sun rose higher in the sky and the light bounced off the water. Westminster, Blackfriars, Southwark. Lotti was counting off the bridges, using them to measure the distance between her and Barton.
‘St Paul’s!’ she squealed and then, in an awed whisper, ‘The Tower of London …’
The Sparrowhawk seemed very small, as they passed between the giant pillars of Tower Bridge. Ben felt a pang as he remembered another trip, long ago, looking up from the banks of the River Avon at the suspension bridge in Bristol with Nathan and Sam. Lotti, sensing his change of mood, reached out and hugged him. It was the first time she had done this, and he wasn’t sure how to react. But then into his ear she whispered, ‘We’ll get Sam back, just see if we don’t. All four of us together, we can do anything,’ and he hugged her fiercely back.
Wider and wider the Thames swelled, until it was possible to imagine how it might turn into the sea. The city gave way to warehouses and docks, where giant cargo ships were anchored. Ben gulped at the sight of them. These were the boats they would see on the Channel, which could mow down the Sparrowhawk without even noticing …
‘Anything,’ Lotti reminded him. ‘We can do anything.’
At Limehouse, Frank turned a sharp right off the Thames and into the basin, and they all breathed out at the same time as the current stopped and everything slowed down again.
‘That,’ declared Lotti, as the dogs scrabbled to be let out, ‘is the best thing I have done in my entire life.’