The travel agent 2/21

The next day Dave decided that Robert had been given enough time to make to the latest modifications to his wings and said he was going to the Witches’ Home to try them out.

Mary had to leave the house so that Jumping Jim could do the housework in peace, while Jennifer Jane didn’t really want to be left all on her own and asked if she could come and watch. So the whole family decided to take a day off and go flying.

As usual once they’d arrived at the Witches’ Home, Mary went off to find Abigail so that she could have a chat, while Jennifer Jane and her dad collected the modified wings from the workshop.

“I’m hoping this alteration will make them a lot faster and easier to fly against the wind,” said Dave, “we’ll be off to try them out, Mary will be along later to collect hers.”

Robert laughed. “Quite a lot later I’d guess,” he said, “I bet she’s having a long chat over a cup of tea in the refectory with her friends.”

Dave and Jennifer Jane carried their wings through the Home and out over the drawbridge. “Just popping over to Lurbridge for a trial flight,” Jennifer Jane told the witch on duty in the guardhouse as they passed.

“And a bit of a drink later in the pub,” added Dave quietly to himself.

They both knew exactly the right number of twiddles required to make themselves the right weight for flying and were soon flapping steadily towards the village.

“I had a good look at the wind direction before we started,” said Dave, as they passed over Gordon’s bridge. “I’d guess these wings are about five miles an hour faster than the last set, for the same amount of effort.”

The pair dived down to the village green, undid the straps and took off their wings. One or two of the villagers waved and shouted “hello,” as they went about their work, but they’d got used to Dave and his flight trials and didn’t take too much interest any more.

“I’ll just go over and have a word with Sir George’s horse,” said Jennifer Jane, “I can see him grazing over there just by the smithy.”

“I’ll have a drink waiting for you inside,” said Dave, “ginger beer isn’t it?”

Jennifer Jane ran across to the horse. “Hello,” she said, “I don’t often see you over here, you usually get tied up outside the pub door, or else stabled inside the smithy.”

“Makes a change I suppose, Sir has got some new idea in his head and says he can’t take me with him. Comes to something when a knight doesn’t want his horse around! Goodness only knows what sort of trouble he’ll get himself into without me, not that he often listens to me anyway. Why I remember one time in Spain, I told him not to ride along the autostrada, but would he listen? Of course not! Come to think of it he couldn’t understand what I was saying then, so I suppose I shouldn’t complain.” The horse snickered with laughter.

“Do you know what he’s up to this time?”

“I’m not allowed to say, he meets groups of strangers outside the George and Dragons and then walks off with them and doesn’t come back for a week. Mind you he seems to be earning a lot more money than he used to. The quality of the oats has improved a lot, I get more time to myself in the fields and he keeps giving me apples. It’s all very pleasant, but it’s also worrying and I’m not sure how long it’s going to last.”

Jennifer Jane went back to the George and Dragons wondering what on earth Sir George could be up to this time. Since he’d had to give up fighting dragons and righting wrongs, he’d made a quiet living telling stories about his adventures in her world.

Nobody ever believed him, but that hadn’t stopped people from coming to listen to his talks and both he and his horse had appeared perfectly happy. She was still trying to guess what new adventure he might be involved with now, as she walked into the pub.

Dad was sitting on a stool up at the bar with the drink he’d ordered for her in front of him.

Jennifer Jane took a sip and then asked the landlord if he knew what new work Sir George was doing.

“No idea,” he replied, “sometimes he just disappears and at other times he’ll meet a group of people outside here and then walk off with them. He’s usually gone for a week or so. He won’t talk about it to any of the folk round here either. I think we may have upset him by laughing at all his fancy stories about your world. Anyway, he’s stopped telling the stories now and I think the regulars are beginning to miss him.”