Jennifer Jane's summer holiday part 4

Jennifer Jane watched excitedly as he lit the boiler fire with a match. Soon it was bubbling merrily and the hiss of steam began to get louder.

‘It really does sound like a kettle,’ thought Jennifer Jane to herself, but she didn't like to say it out loud, in case it upset Barnacle Bill.

"Full pressure in the boiler," said Barnacle Bill a moment later and he came ashore and stood beside Jennifer Jane. "You push her off," he continued, "I'll hold the painter to stop her from drifting away."

He got hold of a rope, which was tied to the bows and Jennifer Jane pushed, until at last the little steamer slid off the beach and floated quietly in the harbour. Barnacle Bill climbed back on board and went below. A few moments later he came back on deck, "Doesn't leak a drop," he said happily.

He pulled a string hanging by the funnel and the foghorn boomed out triumphantly. He did look pleased with himself.

"Now then, Jennifer Jane," he said, "when does your holiday end?"

"At the end of next week."

"Right then, you tell the giant when you get home, that I'll come and see him on Sunday fortnight and if you would like to come too, perhaps we could have a little tea party and a chat together."

"Ooh, I'd love to," replied Jennifer Jane excitedly.

"Good, that's settled then. Now, if you're quick, you'll save the tide back to your cottage. I must wait until it's darker before I leave, so goodbye for two weeks and thank you very much for your help."

Jennifer Jane paddled home, leaving Barnacle Bill singing sea chanties quietly to himself. She arrived at the beach just as dad came over the sea wall to call her in for tea.

Later that evening, they were clearing away the tea things, when suddenly dad said, "Well I'll be blowed, I can hear that bittern of yours."

Jennifer Jane went to the window and looked out over the water. She could just see a dim shape moving down the river.

‘Towards the goblin's boatyard,’ she thought.

Once again, while she was still looking, she saw a little puff of steam and the boom of the foghorn came across the quiet evening water.

"Bye ‘bye, Barnacle Bill. See you soon," she whispered.

And so she did, but that's another story.