“And from Greta!” he said.
Three young servicemen in blue RAF uniforms were hanging out the window of their carriage. They looked up and waved as they roared by.
“Send our love,” the children cried and one of the airmen saluted, although Edie knew he probably hadn’t heard what they were shouting. The roar of the train was far too loud.
Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the Green Dragon was gone – thundering on down the line. All that was left were a few last wisps of smoke melting into the clouds.
“See?” said Edie, leaning as far back on the fence as she dared and staring up at the sky above her. “That’s our love, floating away. It’s searching for Fliss and your papa up there in their planes.”
Then she blushed, feeling suddenly silly. Had she gone too far? Would Gus tease her now? He’d probably make some horrid comment about soppy girls.
But he didn’t.
“Thank you for bringing me,” he said. “This was a good idea.”
“Same time tomorrow?” said Edie with a smile. “We can bring Greta too.”
“As long as the Evacuee Board let us stay.” Gus sighed.
“They will! Aunt Roberta will see to it,” said Edie, swinging her legs. She was sure no one – not even the Pied Piper – would dare to argue with Aunt Roberta, she seemed so firm and sure of everything.
Edie dug in her pocket and pulled out the slice of thick white bread she had taken from the kitchen. It was a little squashed now, but still fresh and soft and delicious. “Wanf sum?” she asked, waving the bread at Gus with her mouth full.
He shook his head. “I already had two fried eggs. Do you know what I’d really like, though?”
“No.” Edie swallowed. “What?”
“An apple,” said Gus. “You know, picked fresh off a tree. I’ve never done that in my whole life – not in the city.”
“Me neither,” said Edie. “There aren’t many apple trees in Piccadilly Circus.”
“Well, we’re in the country now,” said Gus, jumping down from the fence. “Come on – Operation Apple! Let’s go and find ourselves a great big juicy one.”
“Isn’t that stealing?” asked Edie, even though her mouth was watering at the thought of delicious ripe fruit.
“It’s just scrumping,” said Gus as they began to wander along the side of the fence, following the railway line. “That’s what it’s called when you pick apples off a farmer’s tree. It’s different. Only sort-of half stealing. All boys in the countryside do it. Or at least, they do in every book I’ve ever read.”
“I know,” said Edie. It was exactly the sort of thing Just William would do. “And they always get chased by a furious farmer with a pitchfork. It never ends well.”
“That’s just for the story, silly,” said Gus. “You know, to make it more exciting.”
“All right then,” agreed Edie. “Operation Apple it is!” She couldn’t believe the change that had come over Gus. All his gloominess was gone. She didn’t know if it was waving to the train to send his love to his father that had done it, or just the country air. But she wasn’t going to complain. She liked this adventurous new Gus so much more than the grumpy one from yesterday, and she felt more wild and plucky herself out here in the country too.
“What we need is a farmhouse,” she said. “Then there’s bound to be an orchard close by.”
But, as they wandered along the edge of the track, there was no sign of any farmhouse, just a pretty patchwork of green fields edged with stone walls.
“Look,” said Edie as the railway cutting dropped away beneath them like the sides of a steep canyon. “There’s another tunnel.”
“A long one by the look of it,” said Gus. “Shall we peep in?” Without waiting for an answer, he climbed the fence, sat on his bottom and half-slid, half crab-walked down the steep bank.
Edie followed, wishing she wasn’t wearing a stupid skirt. No wonder it was boys in books who always had the best adventures. They didn’t need to worry about their knickers showing.
By the time she reached the bottom, Gus had already disappeared inside the mouth of the tunnel.
“Careful!” she shouted. “Don’t go on the track!”
“I won’t!” he called, his voice echoing back to her. “But, goodness me, it gets dark quickly.”
Edie poked her head around the edge of the bricks and saw his black shadow silhouetted a few steps away.
“What’s it like?” she asked, edging forward.
“Damp.” His answer echoed back to her. “And cold.”
He was right. After only a few paces the warmth of the spring sunshine was gone. It was hard to walk in the pitch black, crunching across the rough stones at the edge of the track. “Ouch!” She tripped on a sleeper and banged her shin on the edge of the sharp metal rail.
She wanted to reach out for Gus’s hand, but she thought that might make them both feel stupid.
“Shall we go back?” Gus asked after a few more steps. The light from outside was growing dimmer. “It might go on for miles, for all we know.”
“Good idea,” agreed Edie, turning around to lead the retreat. “We could always come back with a torch some other time.”
“Definitely,” said Gus. He sounded just as relieved as her to escape for now, and they both stepped out, blinking, into the sunshine.
“Let’s cross over that bridge,” suggested Edie, pointing back down the tracks a little way. “We might be able to see a farm from the other side. And if not, we can just walk home that way and go over the level crossing by the station.”
“All right,” agreed Gus.
Sure enough, as they crossed the narrow footbridge, they saw a tangle of barns and a big white farmhouse in the valley below. Just to the left of it were six or seven stubby trees behind a wall.
“There!” said Edie. “That might be an orchard.”
“Are you sure you still want to help me?” said Gus.
“Of course,” said Edie
