how I said it looked like we were in Winchester cathedral?’
‘Nope.’
She began to grow angry. ‘Well, I did.’
‘You must have thought you did.’
Chloe stamped her foot the way she might have done when she was three years old. ‘I certainly did! Anyway, what does it matter? I know where we have to go. We’ve got to start out now.’
Alex said quietly, ‘Jordy’ll never make it.’
‘Yes he will,’ cried Chloe, close to tears. ‘Yes he will.’
‘Not on foot he won’t.’
It wasn’t Alex who had spoken. They all turned to find the bortrekker standing there, towering above them, the capes of his coat making his shoulders look massive in the dim light. He had come upon them without them hearing him, big fellow that he was, which showed just how green were these humans in the ways of the great attic. The two rats, Arthur and Harold, peered from his pockets with glittering eyes. They stared down at Nelson, who was looking up at them with equal interest.
The bortrekker said, ‘You watch that cat o’ yorn. I’ll scrag him if he tries to get at my rats.’
‘He won’t touch them while they’re in your pockets,’ Alex replied.
The bortrekker nodded. In his right hand he had his fiddle bow, which he used to point with.
‘Now, over there,’ he said, ‘in that dark corner you’ll find something that may be of use to you.’
‘What is it?’ asked Chloe.
‘You go and find out. I’m not sure, see, whether you’ll be able to use it. I’ve never seen it used myself. But there’s a picture on the package, which shows what it can do. You can use the high warm draughts. They’ll take you the length of the attic, back to where you came in, if you guide it properly. Go on, it may be his only hope.’
‘My only hope?’ cried Jordy, in anguish. ‘Oh heck, go and look, Chloe. See what it is.’
Chloe left them, running for the dark corner.
Alex stepped forward now, his eyes shining.
‘Thank you, bortrekker. Thanks for saving my brother’s life.’
‘You’re welcome. And have you finally made up your mind?’
Alex nodded. ‘I think I have. It was a difficult choice. My heart races when I think about model steam engines, but having met you again I realise they’re not really important.’
‘Good, then you won’t need them engines, will you? Now you’re not going to be a board-comber, like you thought you was.’
Alex smiled and took off his pack. He opened it and removed the model steam engines he had collected so far. He handed them to the bortrekker.
The bortrekker said, ‘I’ll hide these for some other board-comber to find.’
‘Thanks.’
Chloe’s face broke into a broad smile and relief flooded into her expression. ‘Alex, you’re not staying here in the attic! You’re coming home with us. I’m so glad …’
Her brother’s next remark crushed any hope within her, turning sudden happiness into anguish with the certainty that he was not going home.
‘Oh yes I am staying, sis. I’m just not staying as a collector.’ He beamed at the bortrekker and high up in one of the rafters a hopeful bat sighed in disappointment, knowing he would not be wanted after all. ‘I’m going to be like him. I’m going to be a wanderer, learning the ways of the attic. An explorer. A pioneer. I shall roam the rest of my days, learning the lore of the attic.’
‘When you’re ready,’ said the bortrekker, ‘I’ll come and find you. You need to know things. You need to know how and where and why. You’re lucky,’ he continued, ‘I never had no one to teach me. You’re lucky you’ve got me for a teacher. But remember what you’re giving up. There’s no countryside in the attic – only dead furniture and junk. You’ll be saying goodbye to the wild rose and hawthorn, and will be left only with clocks and hat stands. No smell of newly mown grass. No scent of green thyme. Only the dust in your nostrils and the boards under your feet. Gone from you the sight of flocks of migrating swallows. Only swarms of bats fluttering their papery wings. No sudden change from green to silver: a poplar’s leaves caught by a gust of wind. Only the draught between the cracks in the eaves, stirring dead spiders and lifting cobwebs. Not for you the flash of a stickleback in a stream, only the dull movement of some sluggish mollusc in the bottom of a stagnant water tank.
‘D’you think you can live in such