Brightwood by Tania Unsworth

any rate.”
    The girl paused. “Can I be perfectly honest?”
    Daisy nodded, although she had the feeling that the girl wasn’t really asking a question and would have gone on talking whether Daisy agreed or not.
    â€œThe only thing in the world that’s
really
lost,” the girl continued, “is Sir Clarence himself!”
    She stepped forward. “He’ll be pleased if he ever does get here,” she commented. “There are enough artifacts in this place to keep him going for ages.”
    â€œArtifacts?”
    The girl swung her arm over the cluttered room.
    â€œArtifacts! Sir Clarence is very fond of them.”
    Daisy was about to ask her again what she meant, but she stopped herself. It was absurd how quickly she had accepted this strange girl’s presence. Even the fact that she was in black and white didn’t seem odd any longer. A long time ago, Daisy had seen a television show that had been in black and white, and had gotten used to it after a moment or two. This was exactly the same.
    â€œYou’re not in the photograph with Sir Clarence,” Daisy said, trying to assert herself. “I don’t even know who you are!”
    The girl gave her a scornful look.
    â€œOf course I’m not in the picture! I was the one who took it.”
    â€œOh,” Daisy said, feeling crushed.
    â€œYou can’t be in two places at
exactly
the same time,” the girl said as if she was explaining something to a child.
    You can’t appear out of thin air or be in black and white either,
Daisy thought. For somebody who wasn’t real, the girl had no right to be so bossy. But she didn’t want to point this out. She didn’t want the girl to disappear and leave her on her own again.
    At the same time, she couldn’t help feeling disappointed.
    â€œI thought . . . ”
    â€œYou thought you’d get
him
? Sir Clarence?” The girl tossed her dark head. “You’re better off with me. By far.”
    â€œWho are you?”
    â€œPolly Frank. You can forget the Polly bit. I’m just Frank. Sir Clarence’s chief guide, chief tracker, and chief navigator. In charge of provisions, maps, and all staff.”
    â€œAll staff?”
    â€œWell, there’s just the two of us,” Frank admitted. “But I do the work of ten. If it weren’t for me, Sir Clarence would be dead a hundred times over. I’ve saved him from everything. Quicksand, cannibals, worms in the gut, alligators, landslides, animal traps, flash floods, human sacrifice, and heatstroke. The man is an idiot. Brave of course, although still an idiot.”
    â€œI don’t think that can be true,” Daisy protested. “He was a famous explorer. He almost became the first man to get to the top of Mount Everest!”
    â€œOh certainly!” Frank cried, “if by ‘almost’ you mean crippled by diarrhea down at base camp while I was busy on the summit.”
    â€œYou mean . . .
you
were the first person to get to the top?”
    â€œIt’s a little-­known fact,” Frank said, brushing the front of her grubby shirt with an air of unconcern. “I’m not one to boast . . . ” She strode over to the window and stood looking out over the darkening water. “So what have we got here?” she demanded. “An intruder, I take it?”
    Daisy nodded.
    â€œWhat’s his name?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œHe must have come upriver,” Frank commented. “I took the jungle route myself.”
    â€œIt’s not a river, it’s a lake,” Daisy said. “And he came in a car.”
    â€œParticularly hazardous, that stretch of jungle,” Frank continued, as if Daisy hadn’t spoken. “You can hack through the undergrowth all day and still only travel a hundred feet. Easy to start walking in circles. I believe that’s what’s happened to Sir Clarence.”
    â€œIt’s