Washy and the Crocodile by James Maguire

seemed to be growing up by the minute, she thought proudly and regretfully. Soon, he wouldn’t need her any more! He went on, as if speaking to himself, and back in his dream.
    â€œI spoke to someone. To-day. Who—whom I had never met before. And he seemed to know all about me. I don’t know... I don’t know...”
    Otto raised his finger to his lips, and Jack paused. It was time for a diversion. Perhaps he would make a secret agent, after all!
    â€œUncle Otto,” he said innocently, “how well do you know someone called Enid?”
    â€œEnid?” Asked his mother. “We’ve never heard about anyone called Enid!” And his uncle blushed, the first time that Jack had ever seen him doing so. Now his mother looked really interested: and at that moment there was a knock on the door and Samantha walked in.
    Followed by her brother.

Gentleman Jim
    Evie was lying on the sofa. Was she awake or asleep? She wasn’t sure. The coal fire was warm and comforting, and the fireguard was still safely in place, just as Mummy had left it before she and Jack went out. Fire was a good thing, wasn’t it? A very good thing. Even if it did make you drowsy, and your thoughts wandered.
    â€œOtto...” she said to her uncle, who was dozing in an armchair with his feet on top of Tommy.
    â€œYes, Evie?” Otto sounded half asleep.
    â€œWhen you first went to Australia... before you met Washy... What did you do?”
    â€œI drove camels,” muttered her uncle drowsily.
    â€œOh,” said Evie in surprise. “I didn’t know there were any camels in Australia.”
    â€œThere are,” said Otto unenthusiastically. “Lots and lots of camels. Hundreds. Thousands. Millions.”
    â€œWhat are they like?”
    â€œHorrible,” grunted her uncle. “Nasty, smelly, bad tempered creatures. Bite you as soon as look at you.” He summoned his thoughts. “When you’re off, you can’t get on. And when you’re on, you can’t get off. That’s a camel for you! In a word, obnoxious,” he concluded.
    This wasn’t like Uncle Otto! Perhaps he had been bitten by an especially obnoxious beast of burden: for that, after all, was a camel’s lot. He certainly wasn’t giving them a big write-up, was he? Evie’s thoughts meandered, and Uncle Otto’s eye-lids closed, and his breathing became softer, and his feet settled even more firmly into Tommy’s pelt.
    He was probably dreaming about his droving days in Australia, thought Evie. Far away and long ago. Uncle Otto was very nice, but he did tend to live in the past, she thought - forgetting that it was she who had taken him there in the first place. What did she need to know about camels? It wasn’t as if she were likely to meet one in the street! And if she did - which was in any case impossible - would it really be so scary as her uncle implied? She thought not. A camel, she reassured herself, was just a camel. It had four legs - she was pretty sure of that - and a long neck to hold out its big head, and a swishy tail to swish with. And it had a hump. Or was it two? She wasn’t sure of that. Uncle Otto would know. Uncle Otto knew everything. But Uncle Otto was asleep; and so was Tommy.
    Evie looked at them both tolerantly. Did she need them to be awake? No way! She could cope with anything. Until her mother came back, at any rate, and she could hand back responsibility to another woman.
    Evie could be a very responsible little girl. Sometimes. Her own eye-lids began to droop, for the fire was very warm and reassuring, and it was a very cold night outside, and she was really very happy to snuggle down and think of nothing at all, not even of her best friend Samantha and her ambition to become the first girl in the village to serve as an auxiliary fire-fighter; and quite soon all three occupants of the cottage were sound asleep.
    ***
    At first, Evie didn’t hear the