Free A Mistletoe Kiss by Katie Flynn Page B

‘I didn’t ask, but I imagine he’s fifteen or sixteen; a good bit older than you, but you’ve got to bear in mind that he’s had almost no schooling, the Collins setting no store by what they call book learning.’
    Hetty, finishing off her own hotpot, stood up as well and handed her empty plate to Gramps. ‘You’re trying to tell me he can’t read or write, aren’t you?’ she said bluntly. ‘Lots of the kids on the canal can’t do that. But I wouldn’t know one end of an engine from the other, so me and Harry are quits. And now let’s get our share of Gran’s apple pie before those gannets in the cabin eat the lot.’
    Hetty was in the butty boat getting ready to set sail, having seen her cousins off, when someone landed with a thump on the decking. She poked her head out and saw a tall, skinny boy with tow-coloured hair checking the tarpaulin which was stretched across the cargo. Hetty cleared her throat and the boy turned round and stared, then turned back and continued with his work.
    Hetty waited for him to acknowledge her presence and, when he did not, said rather stiffly: ‘Hello! You must be Harry Collins. I’m …’
    â€˜You’re Hetty Gilbert; your gran telled me you wascomin’ aboard,’ the boy said. He gave a malicious grin. ‘No doubt you’ll gerrin the way an’ hold us back, same as any other child would.’
    â€˜Don’t be silly,’ Hetty said sharply. ‘I’ve been around barges and canals all my life.’
    â€˜Oh yeah?’ the boy said rudely. ‘And what d’you know about engines?’ He sniggered and lowered his voice. ‘About as much as the old feller does, I reckon.’
    Hetty’s eyes opened wide; he was clearly referring to her grandfather, who had taken him on when many another would have refused to have any member of the Collins family aboard their boat. She was about to remind him of this fact when she saw her grandfather coming along the quayside and immediately the boy’s whole attitude underwent a lightning change. His face, which had been set in a scowl, brightened into a cheerful smile and he called out: ‘Is we ready to go, Mr Hesketh, sir? I bought a tent, like you telled me, and the other stuff. I’ve stowed it in the kennel bein’ as there’s no tackle for the horse now, nor oats an’ that.’
    Hetty sighed to herself. The kennel, though goodness knows why it was called that, was where barge masters always kept any tackle or food connected with the horse, and this sad reminder that Guinness was no longer a part of the team was still too new and painful for her to accept. However, she was glad that Harry had put his gear there, rather than in her cabin on the butty boat.
    â€˜Good lad,’ Gramps called back. ‘We’d best get started if we’re to make the most of the light. I wantto get well clear of the city before we tie up.’ He saw Hetty at her cabin door and beckoned. ‘Come and watch Harry start the engine; you’ll be amazed at how much faster the old Sprite goes once we get moving,’ he said.
    Hetty clambered obediently out on to the decking, jumped ashore and made her way to the hatch which now housed the engine. She squatted beside her grandfather and watched as Harry came importantly over and began to reach in amongst the mass of metal, talking of flywheels, acceleration cables and governor rods in the manner of one who knew exactly what he was doing. Hetty, who had imagined that one simply turned a switch, revised her opinion. Harry might be a hateful, rude and ungrateful boy, but it seemed that he was necessary, for a while at least, to the crew of the Water Sprite .
    She squatted back on her heels and saw the two men – if you could call Harry a man, she thought crossly – grin at each other as the engine suddenly burst into life, chug-chugging in the way she had