“Will they let you keep Elsie if you go to an orphanage?”

“…”

“Because I don’t think orphanages allow pets.”

It was madness. It was dangerous. It was … irresistible.

“We’ll need provisions,” Ben said. “Food, water, coal. I’ll need to check the Sparrowhawk over properly. And we’ll need a map. I’ve no idea how you get to France on a narrowboat, and I certainly don’t know what to do when we get there.”

Lotti grinned.

“We’ll need money,” Ben went on. “I don’t have any, apart from my wages from the boatyard, and that won’t get us far.”

“I can get money.” Lotti’s eyes began to gleam. Federico, sensing something was up, began to yap. Elsie woke and thumped her tail.

“And we’ll have to go soon, to get as far away as possible before they all come back. Clara’ll think it’s strange we’ve gone, and Skinner’s bound to come after us, and there’ll be hell to pay when your uncle finds out you’re not at school. I’ll have to tell John Snell I can’t work for him too—he’ll worry if I don’t turn up.”

“We can leave tomorrow,” said Lotti. “At night, so nobody sees us. Midnight! That’s a good time to start an adventure. What else?”

“If we die, it’ll be your fault.”

Lotti burst out laughing and took another biscuit.

Chapter Ten

Lotti had been right: Uncle Hubert didn’t believe for an instant that Federico had got out of the coal cellar alone. For a moment the next morning it looked like the whole Escape to France plan was doomed.

“Charlotte! CHARLOTTE! Where is the girl? Vera! The damn dog’s escaped. Charlotte did this, I know she did. CHARLOTTE, COME DOWNSTAIRS THIS MINUTE!”

It was bad enough that Lotti should have disgraced the Netherburys in front of Lady Clarion. Now she had made her uncle look ridiculous in front of the lad come from Home Farm to shoot the dog. The lad had actually smirked on discovering Federico was gone, and remarked that he hadn’t survived the war to shoot people’s pets. Hubert Netherbury had taken it as a dig.

“CHARLOTTE!”

Sally appeared, clean as a pin in her uniform, not a trace of coal about her.

“Miss Lotti’s still locked in her room from last night, sir. Shall I go and fetch her?”

“TELL HER I’M GOING TO WHIP HER!”

“That bolt on the coal cellar’s been awfully loose lately, sir.”

“SALLY, WERE YOU A PART OF THIS?”

“Hubert, dear.” Rescue came in the unexpected form of Vera Netherbury walking down the stairs, dressed for traveling in a tweed suit, a silk scarf of Isobel’s at her throat. “The taxi for the station is in the drive. Sally, please bring down the suitcases.”