“We should report Donny for what he did today,” said Gus. “That would be a start. Surely you can’t go firing guns at children? Even in the countryside?”
“Well,” said Perky, “maybe, but… ” He bit his lip. “I don’t know. You were trespassing.”
“Oh, let’s not,” said Edie. She thought of all the fuss there’d be. On their very first day at Three Chimneys too. And it wasn’t even certain Gus and Greta could stay yet. “We were trying to steal apples, after all.”
That set Perky off again, howling with laughter. Gus scowled and muttered under his breath, “Country bumpkin!”
Perky stopped laughing. “What’s that you say, city boy?” He clenched his fists and stepped forward menacingly. “Shall we see if you can take it on the chin?”
“Come on, then!” Gus put his hands up too like a boxer, although he didn’t look half as sure of himself as Perky.
“Oh, for pity’s sake!” Edie sighed and stepped in between them. “I don’t know about fighting cockerels, but you boys are far worse. We’re supposed to be on the same side. There’s a war on, remember.”
“True enough!” Perky shrugged and the cloud lifted from his face as quickly as it had come. “Friends?” he said, and he held out his hand to Gus.
Gus said nothing. He kicked at the ground, still brooding, his forehead furrowed like a ploughed field. He really did seem to hate being laughed at.
“Come on!” Edie threw her hands in the air. “Haven’t you got any sense of fair play, or whatever it is you boys are always going on about on the cricket pitch? Slap him on the back and tell him he’s a fine fellow or something and we can all be done with it.” Edie knew there was no answer Gus could give back to that.
“Fine!” He wiped his sooty palms on the back of his trousers and shook hands with Perky at last.
“Well,” Perky smiled. “Now that’s all sorted, I’d best be heading on my way or else my aunty Patsy in the post office’ll have my guts for garters.” He pointed to the bike. “I help out, sometimes, delivering parcels and telegrams an’ that. I was only supposed to nip out to old Miss Peckitt’s. She left her ration book on the counter and I said I’d drop it off and be back in a jiffy.” He spun the bike around and pedalled away. “Best wash the soot off your faces before you head up home,” he called over his shoulder. “There’s a pump at the bottom of Colonel Crowther’s garden. He won’t mind.”
Edie looked at Gus’s sooty face and sighed. “Perky’s right,” she said. “We should clean ourselves up a bit. It’ll be easier not to have to explain anything when we get home. There’s no need to mention running into the tunnel or any of this, don’t you think?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t want to worry your aunt and uncle,” said Gus. Though Edie was pretty sure he just didn’t want to get into trouble either.
They slipped through a little white gate, marked ENGLAND’S CORNER, at the bottom of the garden which Perky had pointed out.
They were surprised to see an old gentleman, fast asleep on a deckchair in the sun. He had a battered pith helmet, the sort that jungle explorers wear, resting on his chest. It rose and fell with every breath.
“What should we do?” hissed Edie, frozen to the spot. This was the second time today she had found herself trespassing and she hadn’t even had her lunch yet. “Should we wake him up and ask permission to use the pump. Or should we just turn back and tiptoe away?”
“No need for either course of action, young lady.” The stretched-out figure spoke. “I am not sleeping, my dear. Merely dozing.” He raised his head a little and peered at them over the top of the pith helmet. “You must be Peter and Roberta’s niece. Edith, is it?”
“Yes,” she replied and nodded. She didn’t dare to say she’d rather be known as Edie. His voice was so rich and round, he sounded more like someone off the radio than an ordinary living person. It was as if he was making an announcement about her on the BBC.
“And this, I presume, is your evacuee friend,” he continued. “The jumper-from-trains? I’ve heard all about you.”
“He’s Gus,” said Edie. “Gus Smith… Introduce yourself,” she hissed in Gus’s ear.
“I don’t need to now. You’ve done it already,” Gus hissed back.
“Quite so.” Colonel Crowther sat up and Edie saw that he had the most wonderful bushy moustache. It curled up perfectly, like the handlebars of a bicycle, at both ends.
He must look magnificent with his full Colonel’s uniform on, helmet and everything, she thought.
“So,” he said, “you wish to avail yourselves of my pump?” He peered at their sooty faces. “I can quite see why.”
“May we?” asked Edie. “Perky – I mean Albert Perks, the young one – said you wouldn’t mind and … well, as you can see, we’ve got ourselves in a spot of bother.”
“Say no more!” The colonel raised his hand. “Any friend of young Perky’s is a friend of mine.” He motioned to an old-fashioned iron pump beside the hedge. “Help yourself.”
“Thank you!” Edie gratefully began to scrub her face.
“No doubt you were scrumping or some such larks?” The colonel chuckled.
“Yes, sir.” Gus nodded. “You see,” he whispered in Edie’s ear. “He doesn’t think it’s stupid to try scrumping at this time of year. And he’s a colonel… ”
When they had both washed their faces, Colonel Crowther saluted them. “That old damson tree will have some fine fruit in a few months’ time,” he said pointing towards a sunny corner of the house. “Come and
