“How should I know any better than you?”

“Pretend we’re not in.”

But the dogs were already howling. Ben reached for his shorts and sweater.

“Take a frying pan,” Lotti advised, as he climbed down from his berth. “As a weapon, in case it’s a murderer.”

Ignoring Lotti, Ben unlocked the cabin hatch, blinking in the sunlight as the dogs streamed out past him. Lotti dashed to the galley for the frying pan, pulling on her clothes as she went, then ran up to the deck after Ben, prepared for battle. When she saw who their visitors were, she put down the pan and laughed with relief.

“Molly! And baby Philip!”

The lock-keeper’s daughter stood on the deck with her baby brother strapped to her chest in a shawl. A bicycle lay on the bank behind her. She was panting.

“Just let me catch my breath,” Molly gasped. “All right, listen. There’s a copper come to the lock this morning all the way from Great Barton, looking for Ben.” She glanced at Lotti. “He didn’t say nothing about Charlie.”

“Skinner?” Ben looked appalled. “But he’s supposed to be away!”

“I don’t know his name,” Molly said. “Little feller, sort of pigeon feet.”

“Skinner,” sighed Lotti.

“He’s at our house now. I asked Martha to make him tea to slow him down—I didn’t say why, don’t worry. But this copper, right, he’s not giving up. I did what you asked, said I’d been out by the lock all of yesterday and I’d remember a boy alone on a boat, especially one that looks like this, but that I didn’t see you.” Her eyes rounded as she considered what she had done. “I lied to a copper!”

“What do you mean, he’s not giving up?” demanded Lotti.

“Soon as he’s finished his tea, he says he’s going to the next lock at Anfield. In case I missed you, he says. And then Mum only went and offered to lend him a bicycle so he can follow the canal!” Molly paused briefly to mark her disgust with her parent, before concluding, “So I came to warn you, because it’s not far and if you get going fast, maybe you can get through before he arrives.”

“You see, Ben?” said Lotti. “I told you we could trust Molly!”

She jumped onto the towpath and began to undo the mooring lines, calling for the dogs.

“Ben, what are you waiting for?” she shouted, as the dogs jumped back on board. “Let’s go!”

“Go where?” Ben felt very tired. They were defeated and he knew it. “We can’t outrun a bicycle, even with Skinner riding it. And even if we did—do you think the keeper at Anfield will be as nice as Molly, and lie about us?”