Free The Mystery of the Clockwork Sparrow by Katherine Woodfine Page A

into that stupid fight with that boy in the stables and ended up on his face in the muck. If only he had just taken what was coming to him like a man and not gone looking for help. It was all because Sophie had been looking out for him – going back to fetch his stupid old jacket – that this had happened. He heaved another box on to the wagon with an ominous crunch.
    There was nothing he could do to help her, either. As soon as he had heard what everyone was saying, he had gone straight to Uncle Sid, but his uncle had said the same thing as always: ‘Keep your nose out! The Law are in charge now. It’s not for the likes of you to go sticking your oar in.’
    After that, Billy had decided that the only thing for it was to go directly to Mr Cooper himself. It didn’t matter what the consequences were: he felt it was a matter of honour. But Cooper had been even chillier than usual. Almost before Billy had even had a chance to open his mouth, the store manager had put a finger to his lips, looked at him pointedly, and said ‘Thin ice, Parker,’ before sending him straight back to work.
    And so here he was. But every time he heard one of those chumps say something about Sophie, he felt awful all over again. He’d even heard some of them talking to that sneering policeman who wrote down every word they said in his black notebook. All Billy could really do now was to hope that the policeman would soon find out what had really happened. But it was hard to have much faith in him. He didn’t seem to have done anything so far, other than keep Sophie holed up in Cooper’s office for half the day.
    ‘Calm down, lad,’ said George soothingly. ‘Don’t pay any attention. A bit of talk is only human nature. It’ll settle down soon enough.’
    ‘But it’s not fair. I know she didn’t have anything to do with it.’
    ‘And I daresay you’re right. A bit of a girl like that isn’t likely to be mixed up with the likes of this. It’ll all come out in the wash, you’ll see. The Old Bill know what they’re doing. You just let them get on with their job, and we’ll get on with ours.’
    ‘I just wish there was something I could do to prove that she’s innocent,’ said Billy. ‘Or to find out who the burglars really were.’
    ‘Well, how about you help me instead, eh?’ said George, wiping his forehead. ‘What do you reckon you turn driver and take this delivery out? You can manage old Bessy all right, can’t you?’
    In spite of himself, Billy couldn’t help a small smile. He hadn’t expected to be allowed to take out any deliveries by himself for a while yet, and he saw this was George’s way of trying to cheer him up. ‘All right,’ he said.
    Bessy plodded forwards out of the yard, her harness jingling. Out on the street, amongst the throng of Hansom cabs and shiny new motors, the light seemed clear, the air was brisk and the blue sky arched above him. He saw one or two people pointing and nodding as they saw the blue and gold Sinclair’s livery, and he began to take pleasure in being in charge of the van and the glossy well-groomed horse. He shook the reins and clicked his tongue to Bessy. This was a whole lot better than mucking about with boxes. He turned towards Hyde Park, keeping Bessy at a steady, surefooted pace, careful to give the motor buses a wide berth because George had told him that they made her nervous.
    The deliveries were mostly for Mayfair: the first was a lot of boxes for a mansion on Belgrave Square, one of London’s most fashionable and elegant addresses. He pulled up neatly in front of the house, hopped down from the seat and pulled down the running board – and then he stopped short.
    ‘
What – are – you – doing here?
’ he managed to burst out at last, almost speechless with surprise and anger.
    The young man he’d found hiding in the stable-yard was crouched at the back of the van, curled up in a shadowy corner behind a pile of boxes. Now, he scrambled to his feet and