“I’d have recognized you anywhere!” said Aunt Roberta. “You could be Phyllis, that first summer we came here. We were always down at the station, bothering poor old Albert Perks.”
“Perks, the porter?” cried Edie, as the train hissed behind them. She was delighted to recognize the name from Fliss’s stories. “The one who used to be here when you were children?”
“Yes. Long before young Len Snigson, there.” Aunt Roberta motioned over her shoulder as the porter slammed a door shut at the far end of the train. “Perks could have shown him a thing or two,” she said, shouting over the noise of the building steam. Then, all of a sudden, her face lit up. “Oh, dear!” She laughed and put her hand over her mouth. “We did give that poor man the most dreadful time.”
Edie smiled. She felt her tummy relax a little. Perhaps her aunt wasn’t going to be as strict and terrible as she’d feared.
The train whistled loudly, making her jump. It was ready to leave. The guard held up a green flag, and Len Snigson hollered down the platform: “Mind yer backs!”
Edie turned to wave goodbye to Gus and Greta, one last time. But, before she could raise a hand, she heard a commotion in the carriage. The door swung wide open and a small figure leapt from the train. In the next instant, Greta had scrambled to Edie’s side and flung her arms around her waist.
“I want to go with you!” she wailed. “I don’t want to go to the farm. Gussy says there might be rats!”
“Rats? Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Now Aunt Roberta sounded just as fierce as Edie had thought she’d be. “You have to get back on the train, little girl. Hurry! It’s leaving.”
“What’s going on?” The Pied Piper poked her head out of a carriage further down the train. “You there,” she cried, shaking her clipboard at Greta. “Get back on board, this instant! I’m supposed to take you to the central sorting post at Maidbridge.”
The guard appeared at the window too as Len Snigson thundered down the platform towards them. “Get on the train, you little urchin!” He pulled at Greta’s shoulders, but she clung like a limpet to Edie’s waist.
“Steady on!” snapped Aunt Roberta.
“Stop!” cried Edie, pulling Greta closer. “You’re hurting her.”
“It’s too late, anyway,” said Aunt Roberta. And she was right. Smoke shot out of the funnel as the train began to chug away, leaving Greta standing on the station, still clinging to Edie for dear life.
“Now you’ve blown it! The driver won’t stop for nowt,” sneered Len Snigson.
Greta looked up at her brother’s shocked face as he peered out of the window disappearing down the tracks.
“Gussy,” she sobbed, holding out her hand helplessly towards the moving train. And then, screaming twice as loudly, “Mr Churchill! Wait!”
Edie couldn’t stand it.
“Please,” she cried, running alongside the train and shouting to the Pied Piper and the guard. “Stop the train! Poor Greta can’t be left on her own! We’ll take her… and Gus too.”
“Gracious,” the Pied Piper gasped. The train was gathering speed. Before the guard could say a word, the door to Gus’s carriage was flung open again. Two suitcases, the woolly elephant and the book about aeroplanes flew on to the platform. The boy himself followed a moment later. There was a dull thud as he landed on the soft verge at the edge of the track, just beyond the station.
Edie gasped loudly, her heart pounding as Gus lay still. He’s dead, she thought.
But a second later Gus staggered to his feet, unhurt.
The Pied Piper craned her neck to look back down the line.
“There’ll be paperwork!” she hollered, waving her clipboard through the steam.
“Indeed!” Aunt Roberta didn’t shout, but her voice was loud and crisp and clear. “I suppose there will be.”
The train thundered away, taking the Pied Piper with it.
“Now you’ve done it!” said Len Snigson.
Gus pelted down the platform and scooped Greta up in his arms.
“Don’t you ever do anything like that again,” he cried, shouting and hugging her all at the same time. Edie ran to them too and, without thinking, threw her arms around them both.
The hug only lasted a moment before Gus and Edie let go.
“You were jolly brave, to leap like that,” said Edie.
“Brave, but extremely foolish.” Aunt Roberta stepped forward and stared down at the three children.
“You could have been killed,” said Len Snigson.
“I–I know it was foolish,” Gus stammered. “Only I couldn’t think what else to do.” He raised his eyes and looked up at Aunt Roberta. “I suppose we should introduce ourselves. I’m Gus Smith, and this is my little sister, Greta.”
Edie watched, hardly daring to breathe. Would Aunt Roberta lose her temper with him? Poor Gus looked as if he could barely swallow. But at least he had got to speak for himself, like he wanted to. No labels or clipboards or lists. Only Greta seemed totally calm, oblivious to the drama. She beamed, giving Aunt Roberta her best toothiest grin. “Hello,” she said. “This is Mr Churchill.”
“Churchill? It’s a chuffin’ elephant!” snorted Len Snigson. “Don’t you have respect down there in London?”
“Hello, Greta,” said Aunt Roberta gently. “Hello, Mr Churchill.” Edie wondered if she saw the tiniest hint of a smile.
“If – if you don’t want us, we’ll get on the next train to Maidbridge as soon as it comes,” said Gus.
Aunt Roberta said nothing. She seemed to be thinking. Edie stared up at her, trying to read her face.
“Please don’t send them away. I know you’ve only just agreed to take me on. And that’s probably more than enough,” she said, her words tumbling over
