The man’s name was Nathan Langton. He walked with a stick, and he had a beard and a soft felt hat and an old dog called Bessie who farted a lot. He cleaned Ben’s foot and bandaged it, then gave the boys tea and let Ben play with his paints while Sam explored the boat.

After the boys had gone, Nathan sat for a long time on the edge of the canal, thinking.

The following day, he visited the orphanage to bring the boys a paint box. He saw that Sam’s face was bruised from the beating he’d received for being late, and that the bandage on Ben’s foot had come off.

He went back to his boat and thought some more.

Ever since his leg was crushed between the Sparrowhawk and a boatyard quay, Nathan had earned his living by painting. Shop signs, pub signs, planters, pots … whatever people wanted painted, Nathan painted it. In fine weather, he worked outside in the hold. When it rained, he worked in the cabin.

“Could do with a change, anyway,” he muttered to himself.

He covered the hold with a sloping roof into which he cut two windows. He put in a door on to a small foredeck and laid a floor. He built a wooden bench with drawers beneath it for his clothes, a bookcase for his collection of Dickens novels, shelves for his pots and brushes. He put in a stove and set up an easel.

It was the first beautiful room Nathan had ever had, and he loved it.

After he had built the workshop, Nathan went to work on the cabin. When he had finished, he went shopping. And then he returned to the orphanage for the boys.

A month after Ben and Sam first visited the Sparrowhawk, they came back and called it home. In the cabin they found boots, soft with wear and almost the right size, socks to go with them, warm sweaters, trousers and jackets. Best of all, built into the wall one above the other, they each had their very own berth, Sam on top and Ben below. Nathan had painted their names on wooden panels hung above the pillows, with a bird for each of the boys—a quick bright kingfisher for Sam, a robin with a bandaged foot for Ben.

“We can change it if you like, now your foot’s better,” Nathan said.

But Ben adored the robin, just as he adored the Sparrowhawk.

Sam was freckled and sandy-haired and full of mischief. Ben was dark-haired, with big, gray eyes and a slow, shy smile. The two boys couldn’t have been more different, but they loved each other like brothers and they loved Nathan as a father. As the Sparrowhawk drove out of town in the morning sun, Ben hugged Bessie close and felt his heart swell fit to burst.

PROLOGUE

Lotti