83
" They had reached Euston station. Miss Minton waved her umbrella at a porter, and Maia’s trunk and her suitcase were lifted onto a trolley. Then came a battered tin trunk with the letters A. MINTON painted on the side.
“You’ll need two men for that,” said the governess.
The porter looked offended. “Not me. I’m strong.”
But when he came to lift the trunk, he staggered.
“Crikey, ma’am, what have you got in there?” he asked.
Miss Minton looked at him haughtily and did not answer. Then she led Maia onto the platform where the train waited to take them to Liverpool and the RMS Cardinal, bound for Brazil.
They were steaming out of the station before Maia asked, “Was it books in the trunk?”
“It was books,” admitted Miss Minton.
And Maia said, “Good. "
― Eva Ibbotson , Journey to the River Sea
86
" The journey they took up the Negro and into the Agarapi River was very different from the dreamy voyage Finn and Maia had made the week before.
“Faster--can’t we go faster?” Miss Minton kept saying.
When their supply of wood ran low, she jumped ashore, grasping the machete which Furo had left with the other tools, and slashed her way through the undergrowth as though she had been born with a knife in her hand.
Everything she had forbidden her pupils to do, she did herself--thinking gloomy thoughts, going off into black daydreams. One minute she thought that Maia had died in the fire, and the child seen on the Arabella was an Indian girl to whom Finn had given a ride. The next minute she thought that it had been Maia, but that she had now drowned, or had reached the Xanti, who had killed her.
“You couldn’t blame them if they’d turned savage,” she said, “the way some of the tribes have been treated.”
“Yara was a very gentle soul,” said the professor. “Finn’s mother.”
“That was then,” said Miss Minton. "
― Eva Ibbotson , Journey to the River Sea
88
" This time the dog greeted her as a friend, placing his cold nose in her hand, and the happiness she always felt when she came to his place rose up in her.
“It’s all settled,” she said. “The professor was wonderful--he showed me everything. And I stole the keys,” she added proudly. “At least I think I did, though he did tell me where they were, so that may not be proper stealing.”
She handed them to Finn, hoping for praise, but he had obviously expected her to do what he had asked.
“Good. The trapdoor may be difficult to lift; we’d better take some oil. It’s still under the sloth, is it?”
“Yes. And the professor is still worried about the missing rib. How’s Clovis?”
“He’s washing his hair. He’s always washing it,” said Finn gloomily. “I thought you might cut it for him.”
“I’ve never cut anyone’s hair before.”
“There’s always a first time. "
― Eva Ibbotson , Journey to the River Sea
91
" But he’s such a coward,” Finn said to Maia. They were scraping the old paint off Arabella’s deck fittings, a job which Clovis did not care for.
“I don’t think it’s cowardly to be afraid of hiding in a dark cellar and waiting to be snatched by two horrible crows,” said Maia.
Finn frowned. “You’re always defending him,” he said crossly.
“Well, he’s alone in the world.”
“So am I alone in the world,” said Finn.
“No, you aren’t. You’ve got Lila, who adores you, and Professor Glastonberry and the chief of police and all the Indians here. And when you get to the Xanti you’ll probably have lots and lots of relatives. Aunts and uncles and cousins--and maybe grandparents, too. A huge family…”
“Do you think so? I hadn’t thought of it like that.” Finn did not look particularly pleased.
Maia nodded. “It’s sure to be like that. Whereas Clovis and I don’t have anybody.”
“You’ve got Miss Minton.”
It was Maia’s turn to stare. Three months ago she hadn’t known that Miss Minton existed. When she’d first seen her, she thought she was a terrifying witch. But now…
There was a pause. Then:
“And you’ve got me,” said Finn.
Maia lifted her head and smiled at him. For a moment she felt completely happy. Then she looked at Finn’s hand resting on the tiller.
“But you’re going away.”
“Yes,” he said. “That’s true. I’m going away. "
― Eva Ibbotson , Journey to the River Sea
93
" Miss Minton, what on earth made you let a young girl travel up the Amazon and spend weeks living with savages? What made you do it? The British consul thinks that you must all have been drugged.”
“Perhaps. Yes, perhaps we were drugged. Not by the things the Xanti smoked--none of us touched them--but by…peace…by happiness. By a different sense of time.”
“I don’t think you have explained why you let Maia--”
Miss Minton interrupted him. “I will explain. At least I will try to. You see, I have looked after some truly dreadful children in my time, and it was easy not to get fond of them. After all, a governess is not a mother. But Maia…well, I’m afraid I grew to love her. And that meant I began to think what I would do if she were my child.”
“And you would let her--” began Mr. Murray.
But Miss Minton stopped him. “I would let her…have adventures. I would let her…choose her path. It would be hard…it was hard…but I would do it. Oh, not completely, of course. Some things have to go on. Cleaning one’s teeth, arithmetic. But Maia fell in love with the Amazon. It happens. The place was for her--and the people. Of course there was some danger, but there is danger everywhere. Two years ago, in this school, there was an outbreak of typhus, and three girls died. Children are knocked down and killed by horses every week, here in these streets--” She broke off, gathering her thoughts. “When she was traveling and exploring…and finding her songs, Maia wasn’t just happy, she was…herself. I think something broke in Maia when her parents died, and out there it was healed. Perhaps I’m mad--and the professor, too--but I think children must lead big lives…if it is in them to do so. And it is in Maia.”
The old lawyer was silent, rolling his silver pencil over and over between his fingers.
“You would take her back to Brazil?”
“Yes.”
“To live among savages?”
“No. To explore and discover and look for giant sloths and new melodies and flowers that only blossom once every twenty years. Not to find them necessarily, but to look--”
She broke off, remembering what they had planned, the four of them, as they sailed up the Agarapi. To build a proper House of Rest near the Carters’ old bungalow and live there in the rainy season, studying hard so that if Maia wanted to go to music college later, or Finn to train as a doctor, they would be prepared. And in the dry weather, to set off and explore.
Mr. Murray had risen to his feet. He walked over to the window and stood with his back to her, looking out at the square.
“It’s impossible. It’s madness.”
There was a long pause.
“Or is it?” the old man said. "
― Eva Ibbotson , Journey to the River Sea
94
" The children turned and saw the spinach-green boat coming toward them.
“Oh no! Not the Carters!” said Maia. She looked round desperately for somewhere to hide. “If I ran off into the jungle…”
But it wasn’t the Carters. In a way it was worse, because from the woman who now rose from her seat in the stern, she would not have tried to hide or run away.
“You’re mad!” shouted Miss Minton across the narrowing gap between the boats. “You’re completely mad, Maia. What do you mean by this?”
Then she disappeared into the cabin, where--for the first time since Maia had been lost in the fire--she burst into tears.
But the relief of seeing Maia safe soon took a different turn. On board the Arabella she complained about Maia’s tangled hair, her bare feet, her strange clothes. She had brought a toothbrush--even a hairbrush--but as she said, it would take days to get Maia to look civilized again. She berated Finn for taking Maia off, she inquired nastily about his Latin, and wanted to know how often they took their quinine pills. By the time she had finished nagging and finding fault, Maia was almost ready to wish that Minty had deserted her. "
― Eva Ibbotson , Journey to the River Sea
