As he stood there trying to quiet the butterflies in his stomach and the nagging voice in his head that he was being foolhardy to set off on such a dangerous mission, he quickly reminded himself that he was doing so to keep James protected. Smee could hardly blame James for wanting something more for his life; he was not suited for the one his parents had planned for him. They had never understood their son, but to their credit James didn’t seem very interested in his parents, either.

Nevertheless Mr. Smee took a fatherly interest in James, and did his best to help the lad when he could. All James cared about were his books. But Smee had a special fondness in his heart for James. He had always been an odd little boy who loved nothing more than reading, and aside from constantly falling out of his pram as a child, he really was a good boy. But then James had a reason for falling out of prams as often as he did, which he shared with Smee one rainy afternoon when his nurse brought James home. She was rain-soaked and crying.

“I don’t know why Master James is always falling out of his pram. I swear, Mr. Smee, I think he is doing it on purpose,” she said, standing there with a strained look on her face and tears in her eyes. Smee had seen this look on several of James’s previous nurses, of which he had had many. It wouldn’t be long before this one gave notice. Not that James needed a nurse at that point. At five years old, it was time for him to have a governess, and long past the time for prams.

“Now, there, there, don’t cry. Why don’t I take Master James upstairs while you change out of those wet clothes?” said Smee. The nurse smiled weakly at him as she headed up the stairs to her room. His nurses always looked defeated after the young master fell out of his pram, and who could blame them?

It was only on these occasions, after James was marched home by his nurse, that Smee could describe the young master as disagreeable or sullen. Smee had always assumed it was because falling out of a pram had to be a very unpleasant experience. This hadn’t been the first time one of James’s nurses suggested he was falling out on purpose, but it was the first time Mr. Smee took it into consideration.

Once they were up in James’s room, Mr. Smee broached the subject with him. “Now, Master James, Nurse says you’ve fallen out of your pram on purpose again. Is this true?”

“Of course it’s true, Mr. Smee! How else am I to get back to Never Land?”