We Travel Out

I rose, had a bath in the hottest water I could bear and donned my Outdoor Adventure #9s. I left my signet ring, my spot and my merit book with the prewritten letters in the top drawer, then padded quietly down the gloomy staircase. I fumbled for my walking boots, strapped on my gaiters and picked up the knapsack that I had packed the night before. Dad was waiting for me by the door, and although we weren’t huggy sort of people, we were this morning. Despite his previous night’s optimism, this morning Dad looked like a man who knew he wouldn’t be seeing his son again.

The village was quiet and sleepy. Dawn in the summer wasn’t the hub of frenetic activity that it was in the winter. In fact, I didn’t expect anyone to be up for at least another half hour, and then it would be only the baker, the postmistress and the mole catcher. I made my way to the statue of Our Munsell to wait for Carlos Fandango and the Ford. I didn’t have long to wait, for a disheveled figure soon ran around the corner of the town hall. He seemed to be doing up his shoelaces as he ran, which was an impressive sight. It was Tommo, and I frowned. Not only because of who it was, but what he was dressed in—his Outdoor Adventure #9s.

“Hello, Ed!” he said with an uncharacteristic display of cheery purpose. “Ready for the big day? Good morning, Courtland.” 

I turned to look behind me. It was Courtland, and he seemed also to be dressed for adventure. I didn’t quite get it. If there was anyone in the village who shouldn’t be sent to High Saffron, it was Courtland.

“There’s been a change of plan,” he announced. “Tommo and I are coming with you.”

“Does Yewberry know?”

“Not yet.”

“The Council will be furious when they find you’ve volunteered yourself,” I remarked suspiciously. “Why the change of heart?”

“The Gamboges have a bit of a public relations problem at present, and I’ll need some sort of credibility if I’m going to be Yellow prefect. Besides, I could do with the cash.”

He looked pointedly at me. “After all, you never know when demerits might come one’s way. Good morning, Violet.”

Violet had indeed just appeared. She smiled coyly at me and gave my arm a squeeze. I felt a flush rise to my cheeks, and was glad none of them would be able to see it. But if Courtland going on this trip was a mistake, Violet would be a disaster—and a serious liability. If anything were to happen to the head prefect’s daughter, we’d lose every single merit we’d earn. Lower colors had a duty of care to see that those of the very highest hues came to no harm.

“This is utterly, utterly insane,” I said.

“Oh, hush, Edward,” said Violet, “This is just the sort of merry jaunt that will firmly cement our relationship. Once we bravely face the terrors of the road together and emerge victorious, we can take our places as East Carmine’s most celebrated couple.”

“There are eighty-three people who might disagree with that plan—if they could still speak.”

“You are such a whiner,” said Courtland. “Just dry up and relax. Where are we meeting Fandango?”

“Right here, but he’s late.”

In answer, there was the sound of a vehicle approaching, and the Ford rounded the corner from the direction of the flak tower. But it wasn’t the sedan; it was East Carmine’s second best: the shabby flatbed, but with the heavy crossbow removed. And Fandango wasn’t driving, but Jane. My heart rose and fell in quick succession. I was glad to see her but didn’t want her to know what had happened that morning. If, as Stafford had intimated, Jane actually did have feelings for me, doing the youknow with Violet would not go down well, if at all.

“Where’s Fandango?” asked Tommo.

“Some damn fool tricked Bunty onto the train,” replied Jane. “He has to pick her up from Bluetown in the other Ford. Got a problem with that?”

Courtland and Tommo exchanged glances.

“So where’s the relief driver?” asked Tommo.

“Clifton called in sick,” replied Jane, “and Rosie has a bad foot. George and Sandy were unavailable, so I took over. Reluctantly.”

She didn’t look at me at all, and I smiled to myself. She’d changed her mind. She was here for me after all.

I took my place in the cab, sandwiched uncomfortably between Jane and Violet while Tommo and Courtland sat in the flatbed. Without a word Jane moved off and took the western road past the flak tower, the silent linoleum factory and the railway station. Within a few minutes we had let ourselves out of the stockgate in the boundary wall, and five hundred yards farther on we stopped just past the Outer Markers and the image of the giraffe. Without anyone speaking, Courtland, Tommo and I took off our ties, carefully rolled them up and placed them in our pockets. Violet removed the bow from the top of her head and used it to tie her hair in a loose ponytail. There wouldn’t be any prefects out here, and we could slip them back on before we crossed back again.

We picked up the pace on the smooth roadway and sat in silence. I didn’t want to say anything to Violet in case she let the cat out of the bag to Jane, and I didn’t want to talk to Jane, because everyone would know that we had some sort of common understanding. But I couldn’t sit there and say nothing, so I asked Jane how far it was to Bleak Point.

“Less than an hour, if all goes well.”

“How are you, Jane?” said Violet, attempting to be friendly and magnanimous.

“A whole lot better if you’d keep your overhued trap shut.”

Violet instinctively opened her mouth to voice objection, but then realized where we were. Beyond the Outer Markers, all the Rules past volume three hundred and eight were null and void. Jane could say what she wanted. Actually, she said what she wanted inside the markers. The only difference was that now she wasn’t going to be demerited for it.

“Well!” said Violet in a huffy tone. “That was uncalled for. What have I ever done to elicit such rudeness?”

“Let’s just look at the highlights, shall we?” replied Jane. “When we were five, you pushed me into a muddy puddle and then claimed I’d hit you. When we were eight, you told Miss Bluebird that I had copied your homework after you copied mine. When we were twelve, you nearly drowned me during water polo because I had bested you. And when we were fifteen, you deselected me from the Jollity Fair tennis squad because I was likely to win. The same year you had me demerited because I failed to curtsy in your presence, even though I didn’t know you were there because I was asleep after a double shift at the factory. In fact,” went on Jane, “you’ve accounted for almost a third of my demerits over the years, something I’ve spent an aggregate five months of my life working to offset.”

“Greys,” said Violet, looking at me and rolling her eyes, “always so overdramatic.”

“Mind you,” she added, “we’re not totally ungrateful—the cash you pay my brother for youknow helps keep food on our table.”

I heard Tommo and Courtland stop talking and tune into the conversation.

“Wow!” I said, pointing at some bouncing goats that were leaping through the scrubby Outfield in a series of enormous bounds. “Look at them go!”

But my attempt to get Violet and Jane off topic didn’t work.

“There is nothing wrong with wanting to be at one’s best for one’s husband,” continued Violet, visibly rankled by Jane’s indiscretion, “but now that I am to wed,” she said, patting me on the shoulder, “he will have to ply his wares elsewhere—and good luck to him; he has learned much from my expertise.”

Jane gave a snort of a laugh that, had we been within the Outer Markers, would have been branded impertinent. Out here it was just fair banter, one-on-one.