Brian Jacques - [Flying Dutchman 01] - Castaways of the Flying Dutchman

“ ‘P.S. Hope you know some nice young folks the boys can pal up with.’ ”

Alex clenched his fists, squinched his face up, and shuddered with delight. “Nice young folks like us, Miz Winn!”

Will slapped his hand down on the table. “Ahah, thought I’d find you here. Come on. You, too, Jon. We’re just goin’ ’round to your dad’s, Alex. One of my cows, Buttercup, she’s in calf. Eileen an’ Ma are with ’er now. It’s a bit early, but she’s due today, Ma says. So, would you like to see one o’ my baby calves bein’ born?”

Amy and Alex chorused eagerly. “Yes, please, Will!”

Jon was already hurrying out to the cartful of young people.

“Last one in the gig doesn’t get scones an’ cream at the farm!”

Winnie stayed where she was, watching them pile in.

“Regina, did you save me a place?”

“Course I did. Hurry up, Alex!”

“Shove over, Tommo!”

“Amy, sit here by me!”

“Ahoy there, what about me?”

“You’ll have to run behind, Jon. Hahaha!”

“Up here by me, Jon. Good job Delia’s a big, strong gal!”

“I’m with ye, Will. Gee up, Delia!”

Winifred Winn sat watching the sunlight’s lovely play through the fine haze of dust they had left as the gig sped from the village square. Dreams she had never dared to dream had come true. Yet in the midst of all her happiness she felt a tinge of sadness, picturing the towheaded lad and his dog a short while ago, crossing the square. He was wearing the new outfit she had bought for him, the black Labrador trotted at his side faithfully. They halted halfway across the square. He flicked the blond hair from his eyes and stood there. Those blue eyes had never seemed so bright. Ned barked once, Ben raised his arm, shouting as he waved.

“Miz Winn!”

She half rose from her chair, the name forming on her lips.

“Ben . . .”

Then the dust settled and an old lady was left gazing at an empty village square.