Washy and the Crocodile (6 page)

“What did you want to ask me, Jack?” Grunted Washy, who was finally beginning to breathe hard, but still running like an express train; and could still remember his manners.

“How to concentrate,” panted Jack. It was all he could manage. The two kangaroos laughed.

“You don't
learn
to concentrate,” chortled Emma.

“It just happens,” added Rachael. “As you'll live to find out!”

“Look at Washy!” Called Emma. “He's not
concentrating
. He's running for his life!”

Jack looked, and noticed that in the middle of this race for life Washy had given him his full attention, and was looking at him as if he had nothing else to think about in the whole, wide world. That's it, he thought. That's the secret. I must remember this.

“Anything else?” Asked Washy, jumping over a fallen gum tree with a grace which would have won a spontaneous burst of applause from an audience of hardened ballerinas.

“There is, actually,” said Jack. “I'm worried about Mum.”

“Are you, now?” Asked the aborigine. “Why?”

“She's not happy,” he replied; and this time no-one laughed.

“Don't worry about that,” said Washy in his firm and friendly way. “Women are never really happy. They can't be. They have too much to worry about.”

“That's just what Uncle Otto says,” said Jack.

“Wise man,” said Washy. “Been around. Knows a thing or two. Uncle Otto! Did I tell you about the time when my auntie Enid proposed to him?” He giggled, and the two kangaroos laughed with him.

“Proposed what?” Asked Jack; and Washy let out a joyous, scalding hoot of laughter.

“Never mind!” He said. “Leave it till I come over. Then I'll tell you... if he doesn't!” And he laughed again, at the same time looking around at the flames. All the other kangaroos had disappeared by now, and the landscape was a blank canvas, waiting to be scarred by blood. The fire was gaining on them, and Jack felt really scared. Washy noticed, and gripped his arm more tightly.

“Don't worry,” he said. “We're going to make it.”

“Oh, good,” said Jack faintly. “Um... when are you coming over to see us?”

“When I'm needed,” said Washy, still giving Jack his total attention whilst at the same time somehow being aware of everything else that was happening. He was about to say something else, but they had reached the edge of the lagoon, the flames were licking at their heels, and there was no time to lose. “Hold tight!” He shouted, and the boys held tight, and the two kangaroos leapt an extra large leap, and Tommy jumped at their heels, if a kangaroo had a heel, thought Jack incredulously, and they all sailed into the air as the flames licked impotently at the scorched earth behind them, and Crusty sensed what was happening and corkscrewed himself still further into the mud, and the world seemed to be coming to a sudden—

***

“What did you do to-day, darling?” Asked Jack's mother fondly, as she mussed his hair. As far as she knew, he had been a good boy, and had not even annoyed his sister. Indeed, he hadn't even complained when Evie told them that she had invited her best friend Samantha around for a sleep-over. That was astonishing, for Jack had often said how much he disliked Miss Goody-Goody Samantha, who was always concentrated on what the teacher was saying in class, with the result that she found schoolwork very easy and was always top. Perhaps he was beginning to grow up, at last!

Jack had been rather quiet since he came in from the wood and he had even talked about doing some homework. Suddenly, he wanted to find out about Australia. Bush fires, and how dangerous they could be. Which, as far as Annie was concerned, was all to the good. If Jack was finally beginning to concentrate on something, that was real progress, and she might even have a better interview with Mrs Waldegrave at the end of term. Annie did not generally enjoy her encounters with Mrs Waldegrave, who tended to make the parents feel like naughty children; but she was the children's teacher, and deserved respect.

Otto pointed to the little television in the corner of the sitting room, where the evening news was showing. “There you are, Jack,” he said. “It's all about bush fires in Australia. Apparently in Southern Queensland they're almost out of control.”

“Are they?” Asked Jack, and felt a shiver run down his spine. “I wonder if Washy's okay? He said that....” He did not complete his sentence.

Otto looked at him. “What did Washy say?” He asked quietly. “And when were you talking to him?”

“I wasn't,” said Jack quickly. “At least, I don't think so.” He paused to draw breath. If only he'd had time to get his story right! After all, it wasn't lying. Not really. It was just... telling a story. And Roger had said that that was all right. He wished Roger were there to explain. He was the story teller, after all.

“Uncle Otto,” said Jack, “Have you ever had a dream that was so convincing that you thought it was real?” This was good, he thought. Keep it up. “Because I have,” he added. “Just this afternoon, as it happens. Roger and I went to the pond, and the girls were spying on us, and so we moved.” That, at least, was almost the truth, he thought. “We sat down by the tree in the... what-do-you-call-it. The eucalyptus tree.
You
know. And then... I must have fallen asleep. And thought I was in Australia. Talking to Washy. Isn't that ridiculous!”

He looked at his uncle. How was he taking it? It was very hard to tell. This attempt at deception was very good training for a secret agent, but Jack wasn't quite so sure about his vocation for the trade. If it meant sustained lying... to someone whom you loved and trusted, and who trusted you... Was it really such a good career move?

His uncle was looking at him thoughtfully, and Jack could have sworn there was the trace of a smile on his lips.

“And Roger?” He asked gently. “Was he part of the dream, too?”

Jack stared at his uncle. He had forgotten all about Roger! He would never make a secret agent at this rate, even if he still wanted to. At which point, his mother came in from the kitchen; and Jack was very pleased to see her.

“We could ask him, you know,” said his uncle, almost as if he were teasing his nephew. “Of course, his story wouldn't be quite the same. They never are.”

“Ask who? What?” Said Annie.

“We have a choice,” said Otto. We could ask Roger what he did to-day.” He smiled. “Or we could ask someone else.”

Otto paused, and no one said anything; not even Annie.

“You've a mark on your arm, young man,” he asked. “And it looks like a burn. How did that happen?”

“I don't know,” said Jack. “I think my attention was distracted.” Otto didn't look very impressed by this account, and Jack turned quickly to his mother. “What's for supper, Mum?”

“Something rather unusual, darling,” she told him, pleased that he had asked. “I hope you're going to like it. I got it especially from the butcher, as a treat. It's from Australia, too!”

“What is it?” Asked Jack, with a horrible feeling of foreboding in his throat.

“Kangaroo steak, sweetheart,” she said proudly.

Jack blenched, and forgot even to tell her not to call him that. Especially in front of his friends. “Have you started cooking it, Mummy?” He asked.

“Not yet, no,” she said. “Why? You've always liked meat before!”

“I do... normally,” he said. “It's just that I think Sam is a... vegetarian. So perhaps we could have something else. Just for to-night.”

His mother wiped her hands on her apron, and brushed away something from her eye.

“What a kind little boy you are, Jack,” she said. “Or do I mean, young man? Always thinking about other people. Mrs Waldegrave's quite wrong about you! I shouldn't say that, but I have. Come and give your old mother a big kiss!”

And he did. At the same time, he looked his mother squarely in the eye.

“You're not so old, Mummy,” he said kindly, and she blushed.

“Compliments, from my only son! What's got into you?”

“I think I grew up a bit to-day. That's all.” Said her son, who seemed to be growing up by the minute, she thought proudly and regretfully. Soon, he wouldn't need her any more! He went on, as if speaking to himself, and back in his dream.

“I spoke to someone. To-day. Who—whom I had never met before. And he seemed to know all about me. I don't know... I don't know...”

Otto raised his finger to his lips, and Jack paused. It was time for a diversion. Perhaps he would make a secret agent, after all!

“Uncle Otto,” he said innocently, “how well do you know someone called Enid?”

“Enid?” Asked his mother. “We've never heard about anyone called Enid!” And his uncle blushed, the first time that Jack had ever seen him doing so. Now his mother looked really interested: and at that moment there was a knock on the door and Samantha walked in.

Followed by her brother.

Evie was lying on the sofa. Was she awake or asleep? She wasn't sure. The coal fire was warm and comforting, and the fireguard was still safely in place, just as Mummy had left it before she and Jack went out. Fire was a good thing, wasn't it? A very good thing. Even if it did make you drowsy, and your thoughts wandered.

“Otto...” she said to her uncle, who was dozing in an armchair with his feet on top of Tommy.

“Yes, Evie?” Otto sounded half asleep.

“When you first went to Australia... before you met Washy... What did you do?”

“I drove camels,” muttered her uncle drowsily.

“Oh,” said Evie in surprise. “I didn't know there were any camels in Australia.”

“There are,” said Otto unenthusiastically. “Lots and lots of camels. Hundreds. Thousands. Millions.”

“What are they like?”

“Horrible,” grunted her uncle. “Nasty, smelly, bad tempered creatures. Bite you as soon as look at you.” He summoned his thoughts. “When you're off, you can't get on. And when you're on, you can't get off. That's a camel for you! In a word, obnoxious,” he concluded.

This wasn't like Uncle Otto! Perhaps he had been bitten by an especially obnoxious beast of burden: for that, after all, was a camel's lot. He certainly wasn't giving them a big write-up, was he? Evie's thoughts meandered, and Uncle Otto's eye-lids closed, and his breathing became softer, and his feet settled even more firmly into Tommy's pelt.

He was probably dreaming about his droving days in Australia, thought Evie. Far away and long ago. Uncle Otto was very nice, but he did tend to live in the past, she thought - forgetting that it was she who had taken him there in the first place. What did she need to know about camels? It wasn't as if she were likely to meet one in the street! And if she did - which was in any case impossible - would it really be so scary as her uncle implied? She thought not. A camel, she reassured herself, was just a camel. It had four legs - she was pretty sure of that - and a long neck to hold out its big head, and a swishy tail to swish with. And it had a hump. Or was it two? She wasn't sure of that. Uncle Otto would know. Uncle Otto knew everything. But Uncle Otto was asleep; and so was Tommy.

Evie looked at them both tolerantly. Did she need them to be awake? No way! She could cope with anything. Until her mother came back, at any rate, and she could hand back responsibility to another woman.

Evie could be a very responsible little girl. Sometimes. Her own eye-lids began to droop, for the fire was very warm and reassuring, and it was a very cold night outside, and she was really very happy to snuggle down and think of nothing at all, not even of her best friend Samantha and her ambition to become the first girl in the village to serve as an auxiliary fire-fighter; and quite soon all three occupants of the cottage were sound asleep.

***

At first, Evie didn't hear the strange noise just outside the back door. Then she heard it and didn't know what it was. Was it someone knocking? She didn't know. It didn't sound like it, but what else could it be?

Evie wished whoever or whatever it was would go away. She was only a little girl, after all, and although she had a twin brother he wasn't being a great help at the moment, as he'd gone out with his mother, who was also her mother, if you follow me—which you probably do. Uncle Otto was there to look after her, and Uncle Otto was a very good looker-after. Except when he was asleep. Like now.

Evie had been given strict instructions by her mother never to go to the door if she were alone, and she had promised, and she was a good little girl who would never disobey her mother or break a promise, would she? But this was different, and they would all understand that if they knew. Surely. After all, someone might be in danger. So she went to the back door and opened it.

What she saw was big. Very big. Much bigger than she had imagined. Enormous, in fact. Evie had never seen a camel before, not face to face, but she was too surprised to be frightened. The camel was very hairy, and it was camel coloured, and it had extra large brown eyes with huge lashes, and it was looking very thoughtful. Evie took all this in very quickly.