Chapter 6

I was the last to wake in the morning. Judd and Grim had already gone to work. Peyr and the three women were sitting at the table, talking quietly and sipping from their mugs.

Yaana saw me sit up, and said, “Owen, go and get washed and come and have some breakfast. There’s still lots of good stuff from yesterday evening, and Aila will fry some of it up for you while you’re washing, so don’t take too long!”

I didn’t need telling twice.

It was raining quite hard, and I ran from the back door over to the shelter at the pump. I slipped on the wet flagstones and fell, bashing my shoulder on the corner post of the shelter, and hurting my wrist when my outstretched hand hit the ground.

I washed, and walked sensibly back to the back door. My shoulder and wrist hurt.

As I got to the top of the stairs I could smell frying meat. Aila looked up as I opened the door, and started. She jumped up and ran over to me, “You’ve hurt yourself! What happened?”

Yaana got up, went over to the fire, and took over the frying.

Aila took me by the arm and led me to the bench by the table, touching my shoulder gently and examining it as we went. I hadn’t realized I’d broken the skin, but there was quite a lot of blood on her hand.

“I’m a silly fellow. I tried to run to the pump to get out of the rain, and slipped. Sometimes I forget I’m not a little boy any more!”

Yaana suddenly remembered my previous accident. “How’s your ankle nowadays?”

“Oh, absolutely fine. I’d pretty much forgotten about it. I don’t know what that red oil is, but it really works!”

“Oh, it’s just to take the pain away. It doesn’t help the healing, that comes from yourself.”

“Did you hurt yourself before? Oh, you poor darling!”

I hope she doesn’t think I’m accident prone. It’s lovely having her so tender towards me, but I mustn’t wallow in it.

“I missed my footing getting off the engine in the dark the first night I arrived, and twisted my ankle. It was lucky for me Grim saw what was happening, and caught me before I fell under the wheels.”

“Oh my goodness. We’ve all been jumping on and off moving engines since we were knee high, but doing it for the first time in the dark can’t be funny. You should have realized, Dad!”

“You and Grim have been doing it since you were knee high, Aila, but your Gran and Mum haven’t. But they didn’t do it in the dark until they’d had a fair bit of practice, that’s true. I should have realized – but what could I have done, anyway? If I’d stopped, the guards would have wondered what was going on. They can’t see what we’re all doing, but they’d hear the train stopping. And he couldn’t stay on the train all the way into the yard, there are often people there who can’t be trusted.”

Aila cleaned the blood off my shoulder with a rag, and bandaged it up. Yaana brought a plate of yesterday’s leftovers, fried up, for me. Leftovers? It was a good meal. I felt very spoiled.

“I feel bad, running out on you, Yaana, when you’ve just got some big orders in, and Peyr’s brought all that cloth.”

“I should think you do too!” Yaana said, but she was laughing. “If you and Peyr get ahead on the cutting and Aila helps me with the sewing in the next couple of days, I’ll manage fine. Don’t worry. If Graamon wants you in Briggi, that’s really good news for all of us.”

Aila was looking at me and nodding quite firmly. I wasn’t absolutely certain what that meant, but I thought I knew. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about the rapidity with which Aila seemed to have made up her mind – it felt lovely that she seemed to feel that way, but I wasn’t sure how wise it was to be so impulsive. But I had to admit to myself that I felt the same way Aila seemed to, and who cares whether it’s wise or not?

“The other thing we really ought to do in the next couple of days is work on reading and writing, Owen. I don’t know as much as Judd does, but he’ll be at work all day, and I know enough to get you started.”

“That’s really much more important than the clothes, Aila. Peyr and Yaani will help me as much as they can, and you should teach Owen as much as you can. You’ll need pencils and paper though, won’t you? Can you get some from the railway for them, Peyr?”

“Don’t worry, Dad. They gave me some in Baragi, so I could practice at home while I was on holiday. I’ll have to show Gamaara some of what I’ve done, but I’m sure she didn’t count the paper, so if Owen’s used some of it it won’t matter. Anyway, I can say I’ve left some of it here to use later.”

“Better if your Dad gets you some, than risking falling out with Gamaara, Aila. But at least you can get started with what you’ve got.”

“If Dad’s going to get some, it’ll be best if Owen doesn’t write on any of Gamaara’s paper, because the railway paper won’t look the same. Or at least, it’s very unlikely to. Will you be able to get some, Dad?”

“I wish we’d thought to ask Graamon for some, he’d have been able to get it easily. Folks will wonder what I want it for.”

“Don’t worry about me writing. I already write English, no problem. If I learn to read Laana, I’ll be well pleased. It won’t take me long to learn to write once I can read.”

Aila and I sat at one end of the table with Aila’s book and pencil and paper. Peyr stood at the other end, with the cloth and patterns and scissors. Yaana and Yaani sat by the fire, once Peyr had them supplied with cut pieces of cloth, and began to sew.

Peyr made the lunch. The cutting was well ahead of the sewing. “I won’t get it all cut by the end of tomorrow, but it won’t be far off. With both of you sewing, I’d be able to deliver Siroha’s order on Monday – but I think it would be better to leave it a week, we don’t want them thinking they can expect that kind of turnaround. Perhaps I should deliver part of the order, and keep the rest for a week’s time.”

‘Monday’ may not be the correct translation. I lost track of the days during my flight, so I don’t know which day of the Laana week corresponds to which day of the English week. Judd doesn’t know, either. At least they use a seven day week, like they do in England. They think of Odama as the first day of the week, so I translate it as Monday.

Peyr’s days off rotated around the week, but everyone else’s work was on a weekly cycle. Yaani was able to sew that Saturday (if Odibi is Saturday), but she had to go to work on the Sunday.

Aila and I sometimes found it hard to concentrate on the basics of written Laana. Our conversation ranged widely. Aila wanted to know all about England, and I wanted to know all about the country I’d landed in.

I still didn’t know a name for the country as a whole. I didn’t think it had got one. Every time I’d tried to raise the issue with anyone, I’d failed to get through at all. Aila couldn’t enlighten me, either. It was as if I was asking a nonsense question.

Maybe it was a nonsense question. What are England or France or Spain? They’re the areas controlled by the English or French or Spanish authorities.

The Laanohan authorities more or less control Laanoha, and the Meyrohan authorities control Meyroha pretty tightly. But there aren’t really any other significant authorities in the area, and the writ of those two authorities doesn’t extend beyond the cities at all.

The main language in the whole area is Laana. I presume the name Laana is cognate with Laanoha, though Meyroha is the larger city, and as far as I know there’s no distinct Meyrohan language. There are other local languages around, which is presumably why the language has a name. Is Laanoha an older city than Meyroha? None of the family knew. “Laanoha years start from longer ago than Meyroha years, but I don’t think that means anything. It’s probably all mythology.”

The Laana script is complicated, in ways different from the ways in which the English script is complicated. There’s a lot to learn. But I made a start, and Aila was pleased with my progress.

My respect for Aila grew, too – she was a good teacher, and also had a pretty good understanding of the ways of the world. I suppose in part she had her father’s job to thank for that. She’d travelled up and down the line to Briggi with him a few times, and been in conversations with a variety of people in the various inns. She’d even been to Meyroha with Peyr twice, hitching a ride in the cab of a goods train with one of his fellow drivers.

Aila had one printed book for us to work from. It was obviously written for young children, but that didn’t matter. It showed how the script worked, and that was what I really wanted to know.

It was also noticeable that it was produced for rich children. The words and pictures related to a very different world from Aila’s background. Perhaps it wasn’t so unlike the house where she worked.

When Aila wrote, her script looked just like the printed script, and I wondered whether that was just that she was still at an early stage of learning, or whether it was normal. I didn’t want to ask, though, and I had no other handwriting to look at. I didn’t feel able to ask to see the order from Siroha that Peyr had given to Judd. Time enough, I thought.

“We should take a break from study for bit,” Aila decided in the middle of the afternoon. “There’s another pair of scissors for you, Owen, you can help Dad with the cutting, and I’ll join Gran and Mum at the sewing for a bit.”

Yaana wasn’t having that. “No, you two take a proper break. We’re getting on fine here. It’s stopped raining, you take him out for a look at the city for a while, Aila.”

Peyr took a stool over to the window and climbed up on it to have a look outside at the weather. “Yes, it looks set to stay dry now, it’d be good for you to get out in the air for a bit.”

Neither of us needed much persuading. As we reached the bottom of the stairs, Aila turned back to me. “Where would you like to go?”

“I don’t know. Where do you suggest? I’ve been out in the bazaar and the shops a couple of time with your Gran, but I’ve never seen any of the rest of the city.”

“We could go up round the Castle and take a look at that. Or maybe take a wander down by the docks – that might be more interesting, really. There’s always a lot going on down there. Big ships from all over the world.”

“There must be a lot of city guards down there, aren’t there?”

“There are, but they’re only really looking out for people coming off the ships. Or contraband, of course.”

“But people who come off the ships must wander about a bit. I wouldn’t want to get mistaken for someone off a ship, and get asked for the papers I don’t have.”

“You don’t look like a sailor. I’m sure you’ve nothing to worry about. It’s a good job you’re wearing Dad’s clothes though, not the ones you brought from England!”

“I hope you’re right. I trust you!” Suddenly I felt like giving her a big hug, but I was too shy.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have anything to worry about, but maybe we shouldn’t take any chances. Dad thinks you’ll have papers soon. You’ll be able to go anywhere you like quite safely then. The castle’s perhaps not the best place either, or the river side. The best thing about the river side is the view of it from the train on the bridge, anyway, and you must’ve seen that. I know where we should go!”

But she didn’t tell me where she was taking me.

She led the way through the muddy alleyway back to where we got on and off the train. I’d not seen it in daylight before. As far as I could see, in both directions, the railway ran in a narrow slot between high buildings, all windowless for at least a couple of storeys on the railway side. There was a bridge across the railway a couple of hundred metres away in the direction of the river, and another a little further in the other direction.

We followed the railway back towards the river a short way, then crossed over and slipped into another muddy alleyway on the other side. Like the alleyway on our side, this one turned at right angles twice, first left and then right, and emerged onto a street between high buildings. These seemed to be dwellings on the upper floors of this street too, but the ground floors weren’t shops, they were workshops. I noticed a couple of places doing various sorts of woodwork, one making things out of leather, and one making candles.

Then we were slipping into another alleyway on the other side of the street. This one also turned left after ten metres, but then we were on a stone staircase between the buildings. There was a landing at the point where it turned right again, but the staircase resumed after the turn.

At the top of the stairs, we came out onto a very different street. On this side, the buildings formed a terrace broken only by the occasional alleyway, and mostly only two storeys high. On the other side there were large, detached buildings that I guessed were the houses of the rich. We turned left along the street. It sloped upwards, gently at first, then curved round slightly to the right and became steeper.

The terrace on the left ended abruptly, and we had posh houses on both sides for a short way. Finally the cobbled street, wide enough for a cart, gave way to a rough footpath over bare rock, and we left the houses behind. The footpath climbed steeply, and we had to be careful of our footing on the slippery wet rock. Aila was distinctly more surefooted than me, and at a difficult point she took my hand and helped me up.

I was puffing a bit by this time. Aila laughed and kept hold of my hand, pulling me along after her.

We reached the top, and I could see why she’d taken me there. In front of us, there was a drop of a couple of metres onto a wide rocky ledge. Beyond that, all that I could see was the sea, far below us. We were at the summit of a rocky headland between the open sea and the Aaha estuary, with Laanoha spread out behind us.

For the first time, I could see the big ships at the docks to the west, with a massive breakwater seaward of them. I could see down into the railway goods yard, just inshore of the docks, and what I took to be the engine sheds the other side of the line coming into the yard. I couldn’t see the line itself, just a long straight gap in the roofs of the buildings, lined up with the bridge over the Aaha the other side of the town. Beyond the railway, the town sprawled up another hill, with the castle at the top, almost on the same level as us.

Aila gestured in the direction of the town. “Can you spot our room?”

“I’ve already been trying. No, not for sure. I can spot the street okay, but there’s a whole lot of similar dormer windows, and I don’t know which one’s ours.”

I suddenly realized Aila was still holding my hand. There was no-one else on the hilltop. I looked down into her face, and she looked up into mine. We kissed. I put my free arm around her shoulder, and she put hers around my back. Our other hands were still locked together.

“You didn’t mean to tell me I was beautiful, that time in Baragi, did you?”

“I didn’t mean to tell you, no. I meant to say you’d shown me a lovely place. But it was the truth. An accidental truth.”

“You started me dreaming. I hope I’ve not been making a fool of myself.”

I’ve got to make my mind up. Either we’ve both been making fools of ourselves, or we haven’t. Or maybe making fools of ourselves is how it works, and is the best of all possible options.

“No, you’ve not been making a fool of yourself. It’s just how things happen. Maybe I’ve been making a fool of myself, too. Maybe making fools of ourselves is the right thing to do.”

“You’re not making any sense, Owen. You always talk sense, why are you not making any sense now?”

“It’s all too quick, Aila. You’re lovely, I want to be with you always, but you shouldn’t commit yourself to me without knowing me better. You don’t know what a risk committing yourself to me might be. I don’t even know that myself.”

“You’ll have railway papers soon, Dad thinks. I’m pretty sure he’s right, I saw how Graamon reacted to you. Look at the way he turned right around and headed straight back with Faahiha, as soon as he heard your story. There’s less risk committing myself to you than there’d be to almost anyone. And anyway, I don’t care. I want you, Owen.”

Well, that’s settled then. Making fools of ourselves might be the only option. But what do we do next?

“Okay. We both want each other. You don’t care if it’s risky, I don’t care for my own sake but I care for yours, but what can I do about it? What do we do next? Should we tell your parents, or wait a little while to let them get used to us? Or should we wait until we’re a bit more certain ourselves?”

“I’m certain, aren’t you?”

Am I? I don’t know. I know what I want, but what is the right thing to do? I don’t know how these things work here.

“I think I am, really. I just don’t know what’s going to happen next.”

“Neither do I. We never really know what’s going to happen next. Whatever it is, it’s not going to kill us, so I’m not worried. It’s not even going to get us into trouble, so what is there to worry about?”

“That’s a very good way of looking at it. It’s a very good way of looking at life altogether. Okay, I’m certain. Now what do we have to do next?”

Well, that’s that. Five weeks or thereabouts after I fly out of my old life, my new life is settled. I don’t know what it’s settled to, but it’s settled.

“I’m not sure of that myself. Gran and Dad knew before you did, maybe before I did. Certainly before I was sure. But I’m not sure what Mum thinks. Maybe she thinks it’s too quick, but we’re adults, it’s our decision. I’d rather not upset her if it can be avoided, though.”

We’re adults, it’s our decision. I didn’t even know that.

“We can take our time telling anyone, if that’ll make it easier with your Mum. But there’s so much I don’t know – I didn’t even know we were adults in the eyes of the Laanoha authorities.”

“The authorities don’t care. It’s nothing to do with them. Who’s an adult and who’s not is up to us and our parents to decide. I’m sure Mum and Dad think of me as an adult, have done for a long time. And your...oh...”

“Don’t worry, you can say it. Or I’ll say it for you. I got over it a long time ago. My parents died years ago. There, I’ve said it. I wasn’t close to them, not since I was a small child. I was away at school most of the time. I still felt it badly when they were killed, but it’s a long time ago now. I was much closer to the headmaster. I miss him. I hope the police in England aren’t making trouble for him. It hurts a little – more than a little – to know I’ll never see him again, never know whether he’s okay.”

Oh dear. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to spoil things.

But Aila kissed me again. She had tears in her eyes. She wiped my cheeks – I hadn’t realized it, but I had tears in my eyes, too.

“We should be getting home. It’ll be getting dark before long. And it’s cold up here.”

It was.

“There’s so much you don’t know about me. There’s so much I don’t know about you, too.”

“It doesn’t matter. Plenty of time to find out, the rest of our lives. I know enough about you to know that you’re my man, and I know that you’ve decided you know enough about me to know that I’m your woman, too. I love you, Owen.”

She’s right as well.

“I love you, Aila.”

I never thought I’d say that. But I mean it, too.

“We won’t tell Mum yet. I think she’ll just realize anyway, and then she’ll tell us when she’s good and ready. Gran and Dad will be waiting for her to tell them.”

The sun set before we reached the end of the footpath, but there was still enough light to find our footing okay. Aila held my hand tightly going down the stairs in the first alleyway. I think she might have been afraid I could fall again, which could have been more serious on those long flights of stone stairs.

She let go of my hand before we came out of the alleyway. There weren’t many people on the street, although there were oil lamps in the open fronts of all the workshops.

By the time we reached the railway it was almost completely dark. I was very glad I had Aila to guide me. I’m not sure I’d have managed to find the alleyway through from the railway to our street, but Aila went straight to it without hesitation.

Yaana looked up from her sewing as we came into the room. “We rather thought you’d be home before sunset! We were about to send out a search party. Where have you been?”

“No you weren’t, you old fibber, Gran! We went up on the point. I wanted to show Owen the view, it’s good to see Laanoha like that. We thought about going down to the docks, or up round the Castle, but if he’s going to have railway papers before too long it seemed sense to wait until he’s got them before going anywhere where we might meet guards.”

We might have intended to keep quiet for the moment, but Yaana wasn’t going to let us. “So. What have you two decided? When’s the big day?”

“Gran! We weren’t going to say anything today, and we certainly haven’t decided on a date yet. I’m going back to Baragi on Monday, and Owen’s going to Briggi. We don’t even know when we’ll see each other again. We don’t know when the big day is, but you’re right, we have decided that there’s going to be one.”

I suppose that is what we’ve decided, yes. Okay.

Yaani got up and went to the corner. She pulled a flagon out from under the table, and put it on the table. Then she looked at the two of us still standing just inside the doorway, and smiled broadly. “I’ve been trying not to show my feelings. I didn’t want to influence either of you either one way or the other, but I could see what was going on. Keeping your Gran and Dad quiet is impossible, of course, but whether their chatter encourages you or discourages you or has no effect, I really don’t know. But now you’ve made up your minds, I don’t mind saying I’m very, very pleased.

“And you’ll be pleased to know that someone else noticed, too, and was more confident about his understanding of things than I was. He left word with his innkeeper to send this flagon round for us all to celebrate, and to apologize that he’s not able to be here in person.”

Graamon. I didn’t know we were going to decide anything today, but Graamon knew. I felt rather as though I was being swept out to sea by the tide, but that this was a good thing.

Aila voiced the same thought, “Graamon. He knew what we didn’t know ourselves then.”

“He did. He wasn’t the only one who knew, either.”

Peyr poured out the keroo, and proposed the toast, “To Owen and Aila! A large family, and grown-up great-grandchildren in your lifetime!”

Suddenly the toast meant so much more than just a standard formula, and the implication of what we’d decided struck home in a way that it really hadn’t before.

I realized it was my turn to make some kind of a speech. For a moment I was a little nervous, and then I realized what I had to say.

“I didn’t have any idea when we set off for our walk today what was going to happen. I knew I liked Aila a lot, and I was pretty sure she liked me a lot, too. We talked a lot, as you can no doubt imagine. Aila said something that stuck in my mind. I’m pretty sure this is word for word what she said. ‘We never really know what’s going to happen next. Whatever it is, it’s not going to kill us, so I’m not worried. It’s not even going to get us into trouble, so what is there to worry about?’ That sums it up. I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I’m not worried.”

I turned to Aila, “Aila, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

We turned to Peyr and Yaana and Yaani, “There. We’ve said it. In public.”

We were absolutely in unison. I couldn’t help laughing. It was almost as though we’d planned it.

At that moment, Grim came in. “What have you said? In public?”

Then he must have seen that Aila and I were holding hands. “Ah. Let me guess. When’s the wedding? And where’s my mug of keroo?”

We all laughed. I think he must have smelt the keroo, or maybe his eyes took in the whole room, and Yaani with the flagon in the corner, pretty quickly. Whatever the truth of that was, he knew what his priorities were!

Yaani poured him a mug. He lifted it high with a flourish, “I can see your great-great-grandchildren crawling all over your knees already.”

Aila looked at her knees, then at mine, and laughed again. “I hope you won’t say things like that when you’re grown up, Grim. And preferably not outside the family even now!”

“Oh, I’m grown up enough to know when I can and when I can’t make jokes, Sis, don’t worry. And I know who’s family and who isn’t, too. Welcome into the family, brother.”

And Grim surprised me with a big hug.

No-one seemed to be doing anything about supper, and Judd hadn’t arrived at the time he normally had been arriving. He did have a place of his own, but he’d mostly been staying with us ever since I arrived, to talk to me in the evenings and on his days off. And he always let someone know whether to expect him for meals.

It surprised me and I think Aila as well how everyone seemed to have known what was going to happen before we did. Judd turned up three quarters of an hour later than usual, with a shoulder of salt mutton, a bagful of apples and a large round loaf of bread with a hole through the middle. “It’s not quite a feast to match what Graamon brought yesterday, but I’m not Graamon.”

Yaani took the mutton from Judd and handed it to Peyr. “It’s much more our kind of food though, Judd. You’ve really done them proud. Chop up this shoulder, Peyr, while I fry some onions and slice some carrots. That mutton will make a really good stew!”

Aila went and sat by Yaana, and picked up the sewing that Yaani had been doing. “Don’t leave your man feeling like a spare part, Aila,” Yaana said, “While they’re making supper, you and Owen get some more studying done.”

“No, I’ll cut some cloth while Peyr’s chopping the meat. There’s loads to do.” I knew what patterns we were using, and could see what the next pieces to cut were. I started cutting. Yaana let me get on with it for a while, and then decided to put her foot down. “Aila, you and Owen really ought to do a bit more reading. It really could make a huge difference to how he gets on in Briggi.”

“I don’t think you need worry, actually, Gran,” Peyr said. “I don’t think there’s much doubt now about Graamon wanting to take Owen on, and it’s just the kind of niche Owen’s looking for.

“But she’s right that the sooner you learn to read the better, Owen.”

“I hope you’re right, Peyr. I shall need a reliable job if I’m to be a good husband to your daughter!”

“Don’t you worry. I’m pretty sure Graamon wants you, but even if he doesn’t, a chap of your ability can find a decent job easily enough anyway. But obviously it’s good if you get a job that gets you good papers, rather than being stuck out of town permanently.”

“That’s something I was going to ask you about. You talked about ‘good papers’, and Aila called them ‘railway papers’. Are your railway papers different in some way from other people’s papers?”

“Oh, I don’t have railway papers. I just have Laanoha papers. To visit Meyroha, I have to get a visitor’s pass.”

“Couldn’t I have come into Laanoha on a visitor’s pass?”

“Not without some kind of papers, or a big surety. While I’m in Meyroha on a pass, they hold my Laanoha papers, and I don’t get them back until I leave. With railway papers, you can come and go as you please, anywhere.”

“Like having both Laanoha and Meyroha papers?”

“Better than that. More like having castle papers. Not quite as good as castle papers, but nearly.”

“Castle papers? What are they?”

“Castle papers are for really rich people – castle people. Without them, you can only get into the castles, either here or in Meyroha, or Barioha for that matter, as a guest of a senior Castle resident. But ordinary folks like us don’t need or want to get into the castles. Castle people can demand entrance anywhere – railway offices or guard offices, anywhere. Railway papers will get you in most places – ordinary guard offices, for example, most offices of any kind. But not castles.”

“Barioha? I’ve never heard of that before.”

“It’s the third biggest city, halfway between here and Meyroha. Well, a bit nearer to Meyroha, really. There’s a station on the main line there. It’s the only stop between here and Meyroha – apart from when Jerem makes them stop in Baragi! The main line’s not like our branch, with every train having to stop at every passing place.”

“And it’s got a castle?”

“Yes. It’s not a big one like Laanoha’s or Meyroha’s though.”

“That’s four places I’ve heard of with names ending -oha, three of them with castles. Is that just coincidence, or does -oha have something to do with castles?”

Yaani was watching Peyr chopping the mutton – or forgetting to chop it half the time. “Peyr – is that mutton ready? The onions and carrots are ready to go in, but they’ll turn to mush if the mutton doesn’t go in for a while first.” She knew already that it wasn’t done, of course. Peyr looked at her sheepishly and finished the job quickly.

Then he turned back to me. “I don’t know,” he said. Then, to Judd, “Do you know, Judd?”

“Sorry, I wasn’t listening. Do I know what?”

“Four places we know ending in -oha, three of them with castles. Is that just coincidence, or is there a connection?”

“I don’t know. Where’s the fourth place? I only know three, and they’ve all got castles. Might be connected, but it might just be that they’re big places.”

“The fourth one isn’t big at all. I only heard of it the other day. It’s where Owen stayed one night when he first arrived, halfway between Sirimi and the Sirimi road crossing. It’s called Siroha. Just one big fancy house as far as we know, but maybe a neighbouring village as well.”

“Never heard of it. You’re more likely to hear about things like that than I am, stuck in the workshops here all the time.”

Aila came and sat at the table, and looked up at me, patting the bench next to her. I took that as an invitation to sit beside her. She opened our childish reading book, and very quietly picked up where she’d left off teaching me the Laana script.

I tried to concentrate on the reading. I was certainly learning something, but my mind kept wandering off the subject, and I knew I was going to end up with gaps in my knowledge. There was nothing I could do about it.

I remembered Yaana, it seemed so long ago but it was only about four weeks, laughing that I couldn’t earn enough to raise a family by cutting cloth for her. Had she had her eye on me as a potential grandson-in-law already, right back then?

She couldn’t have. Or could she? I’d not even met Aila, didn’t meet her for another three weeks. Aila didn’t know I existed, unless Peyr had told her about his hitch-hiker when he picked up the meal in Baragi on my very first ride.

They’re all very confident about me getting a job with Graamon. I hope they’re right – and that I’ll prove to be useful enough to keep the job.

“If I do get a job with Graamon, where do you think I’ll be based? Will you be able to get a teaching job near to the same place? Or if I’m earning enough, will you want a job at all? There’s just so much I don’t know about life here.”

“I don’t know the answer to any of those questions. We’ll find out soon enough. Don’t worry. What will happen, will happen. Everything will be okay.

“Now, look at this word. That’s teymboo. See how like teyboo it is?”

“Ah! That’s what those little marks are. That makes sense now.” And teymboo means apple, I’d know that without the picture, but what does teyboo mean? I’ve forgotten.

“So this is kimtaa?” The picture was a snake.

“Goodness! How did you get your tongue round that? Does English have words like that? No, it’s kintaa.”

“No, there’s no mta in English. Not that I can think of, anyway. The nearest is empty with pa in between. But it’s not hard for an English tongue to get round. Some of the sounds in Laana are awfully hard to get my tongue round, though. It took me a while to get my ear round some of them!”

But I couldn’t keep my mind on the reading for long.

If I get a job with Graamon, will I be based in Briggi? Does Briggi even have a school where Aila could teach? Somehow I’d gained the impression there were few if any rich people there. But surely that impression was wrong – why else would there be shops selling the kind of luxury goods I’d seen? And why else would there be a passenger train every other day, if poor people can’t afford train travel? How rich do you have to be to buy things like that, to travel by passenger train, or to send your kids to school?

“Sorry, I was daydreaming. What did you say?”

“Oh, Owen, you’re hopeless. I think we should give up for today. Supper’ll be ready in a moment, anyway. Maybe we’ll have another go after supper – but maybe we’d better join in the general chatter, it’s not fair to be too wrapped up in each other when everyone’s trying to celebrate!”

She leant over and kissed me on the cheek. “I don’t really think you’re hopeless! You’re doing really well.”

I wasn’t, and I knew it. But I was beginning to think that with one more day of it, I’d have enough of a start to be useful, and as long as I kept using it, my reading would improve slowly. More lessons would undoubtedly help, though.

But of course I’ve only seen this children’s book – and a few street signs I’ve never tried to read before. I could ask to see Peyr’s papers, but I’m too shy to. Oh – or Aila’s. I’ll ask tomorrow. Maybe.

The mutton and vegetable stew was gorgeous. We munched apples. We finished the last of the keroo.

We chatted late into the night, much of it joking about the descendants Aila and I were expected to have, how many there would be, and even elaborate fantasies about their exploits. I noticed that nobody conjured up visions of our own future – apart from the establishment of that impressive dynasty.

Well, what will happen, will happen. Everything will be okay.

Around midnight, we all snuggled down on the bedding pile in a long row. The chattering continued for some while after that, the number of participants dwindling gradually.

I went to sleep thinking, what a whirlwind of a day, but feeling surprisingly happy. Well, it was surprising to me, anyway. I’ve found my niche. Not the kind of niche I was looking for, but a good niche. I still need the other kind of niche too, more than ever in fact, and maybe I’ve found that too, but that still needs confirmation. Not long before I know one way or the other, probably.

I had turbulent dreams. I remember that they were turbulent, without remembering what actually happened in most of them.

I do remember one of them. I was in my harness, dangling from my balloons, but stationary about five metres off the ground. Below me my old headmaster was looking up at me, warning me of the dangers of girls – something he’d never done in real life, something I couldn’t imagine him doing in real life. Other people, yes, but not him. Then I was rising slowly away from him, and he was disappearing gradually into the fog, waving at me and shouting something that I couldn’t make out.

I woke later in the night. There was a candle alight on the table, and Peyr and Judd were sitting at the table with mugs, I guessed of skiir, talking quietly. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I didn’t let them see that I was awake, and I was soon asleep again.

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