Free Washy and the Crocodile by James Maguire

money, and nor did his mother; and that meant that Sophie wouldn’t be operated on; and that meant that she could never achieve her secret ambition. He really didn’t like to think about it.
    It was a warm afternoon, they were sitting in the sunny little garden in the shade of the old plum tree and there was plenty of chilled lemonade in the fridge. Everything should have been lovely, but it wasn’t. What had gone wrong? In truth, it was a little difficult to say, but Jack was sure he knew the reason.
    It was Evie.
    So did Evie. It was Jack.
    They were quarrelling, for no good reason at all; and the quarrel had yet to reach its climax. Mummy had taken them to watch the ballet the night before, and Evie had liked it so much she had cried. Jack had almost cried too, as it happened; but not for the same reasons.
    â€œBallet,” said Jack, who was hot and bored and tired, all at same time, “is a complete waste of time.”
    â€œNo, it isn’t!” Exclaimed Evie, instantly on the verge of tears. “Ballet is absolutely wonderful, and I’m going to be a ballerina when I grow up!”
    â€œI doubt it,” said Jack, who knew how to be really cruel to his sister. He scrutinised her with an exaggerated care. “A, you’re never going to grow up. And B, if you can count that far, no-one’s ever going to pay to watch you dance. Do you want to know why? Because you’re too fat and slow and stupid, and I hate you.” Said Jack comprehensively, and smiled the mendacious smile of someone who has said something truly horrible and has yet to regret it. Evie was so shocked by his broadside that she even forgot to cry. Uncle Otto seized the moment to intervene before she did, and things got really out of hand.
    â€œDid I ever tell you,” said Uncle Otto, lazily stretching out a long, dark, sinewy arm to pluck another plum from the tree, and insinuating its juicy resonance into his welcoming mouth, “about how I came to meet my friend Charlie?”
    â€œNo, you didn’t, Uncle Otto,” said Jack. “And however it happened it won’t change my mind about ballet!” Jack could be a very single-minded little boy.
    Evie, however, was prepared to be distracted.
    â€œWe didn’t even know that you had a friend called Charlie, Uncle Otto,” she said, the tears already dry upon her cheek. This was far more exciting than a quarrel with Jack! “You’ve never mentioned him before. Who is he?”
    â€œShe,” said her uncle.
    â€œShe,” repeated his niece thoughtfully. “Did you hear, that, Jack? Uncle Otto has a friend called Charlie, and this is the first we’ve heard of her! Isn’t this wonderful ?” She tucked the quarrel away for possible future use, and dismissed his more personal adjudication as purely intended to provoke. Evie was a very resilient little girl. She needed to be.
    Otto smiled to himself, and continued.
    â€œMy friend Charlie Earlie went out to Australia”—
    â€œWhy?” Asked Jack, who was just as interested as his sister, but was determined not to show it. Uncle Otto, with a girl-friend! What was the world coming to?
    â€œTo teach ballet there,” said his uncle, as if that were the most natural thing in the world.
    â€œTo whom?” Asked Jack, who was proud of his grammar.
    â€œTo the little children in the outback,” replied Uncle Otto.
    â€œWhy did they want to learn ballet?” For the second time that afternoon, Jack was genuinely puzzled. This was too much!
    â€œThey didn’t. They didn’t know anything about ballet. But they liked Charlie Earlie. Everyone did. Charlie Earlie was... stunning.” He paused, thoughtfully. “Her hair was the colour of liquid amber, and she could dance... like an angel.” Uncle Otto reached out and took another plum. “Charlie Earlie—her real name was Charlotte Fanshawe, but every one called her Charlie