‘You said I’d be home, not we’d be home,’ Oskar said. ‘You’re going to go? Even though you’re not even sure the clues mean anything? Even though we have to go and do this by ourselves?’
‘I have to try,’ Tilly said. She had filled him in on the visit from the Underwoods when he’d arrived at Pages & Co., and the stakes. ‘I have to do something, and this is the only idea I’ve got so I guess this is what I’m doing. I’ve just realised that if the Underwoods have bound all the books at the British Underlibrary, it won’t just be affecting British bookwanderers – no one will be able to bookwander into any copies of those books, wherever they live. Books don’t know what country they’re in.’
‘But won’t other Underlibraries try and stop them in that case?’ said Oskar. ‘I can’t imagine the librarians we met at the French Underlibrary would let that happen. Shouldn’t we leave it up to them?’
‘Maybe they haven’t realised yet,’ suggested Tilly. ‘But no, someone must have. Maybe Mum’s friend will be able to tell us what’s going on in America – they must have noticed.’
‘Tilly,’ Oskar said, ‘if you think there’s something in this map, or whatever you’re calling it, then I’m in too. I’d rather see what we can find than sit around at home, waiting for those two to come and find us. And I am not a fan of someone taking away my bookwandering, after I was just getting good at it.’
He paused, and Tilly thought he was about to come up with a useful idea. ‘Shall we get some food?’ was what he actually said. ‘I hope your mum gave you some money to make up for the whole kidnapping thing.’
They found a café with an empty table and, despite everything that was going on, they couldn’t entirely ignore the joy of having no adults to tell them what they could or couldn’t order.
‘How much have you got?’ Oskar asked as Tilly took out the purse Bea had given her. ‘Because I want a chocolate milkshake, and they’re seven pounds fifty.’
‘We’ve got fifty pounds in English money,’ Tilly said, not sure she’d ever held so much cash before. ‘And –’ she looked at the other notes in the purse – ‘one hundred dollars in American money.’ She said this last part quietly, feeling a little bit like she was announcing a prize on a reality TV show.
‘Kerching!’ Oskar said. ‘Waiter, I’ll have one of everything!’
‘I think it’s for emergencies, really,’ Tilly said.
‘I know, I know,’ Oskar said. ‘But missing breakfast is an emergency. I’m going to have the full English.’
As they ordered, a couple sat down at the table next to them, grinning at each other intently, despite the early hour.
‘We’re on our honeymoon,’ the man said to Tilly without being asked.
‘Oh, congratulations!’ Tilly said, feeling awkward.
‘We’re going to the Seychelles,’ the woman said, holding out her hand so they could see her sparkling diamond alongside a wedding ring. ‘Where are you two off to?’
‘And where are your parents?’ the man asked. ‘You’re awfully young to be by yourselves at an airport.’
‘Someone’s meeting us at the other end,’ Oskar said. ‘Oh, look! Is that our food coming?’ And the two of them watched the kitchen intently, hoping the couple would stop trying to make conversation. Thankfully, their food did arrive only moments later.
‘I wonder what Mum’s planning to say to my grandparents,’ Tilly said quietly over her ham-and-cheese omelette. ‘They’re not going to be thrilled about this. Pretty sure dropping two twelve-year-olds off at an airport with a load of money and a photo of a man to meet in America is not traditionally seen as great parenting.’
‘When you put it like that, it makes us sound like we’re in a spy movie or something,’ Oskar said, eyes lighting up. ‘A contact on the other side of the world. An envelope full of cash. A mysterious map. I feel like Nicolas Cage. I’m starting to get more into this whole treasure-hunt thing.’
After eating, they paid an exhausted-looking waitress and started gathering up their bags to go and wait for the person who was going to take them to their departure gate. Abruptly, as Tilly double-checked that they had their money and passports, noisy crying erupted from the table next to them and they looked over to see the newly married man in floods of tears.
‘I just … think I’ve made a horrible mistake,’ the woman was saying, standing up. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s just … All of a sudden, I was looking at you, and it was like … it was like I was looking at a stranger and I just couldn’t quite remember why we got married or …’ She tailed off, looking uncomfortable, before grabbing her bag and running out of the café. But by this point the man was drying his tears on a napkin and starting to look a bit more composed.
‘Do you know,’ he said to Tilly and Oskar, ‘I think she’s right, really. I can’t even remember why we were together when I come to think about it. Oh well!’ He put some money on the table and followed her out of the café.
‘That was … weird,’ Oskar said as they headed to the information desk.
‘Very,’ agreed Tilly. ‘How can you just forget why you’re in love with someone?’
But they didn’t have much time to dwell on it as they were quickly collected by an airport official and taken to their gate to board. After a lot of sitting around, waiting for their section to be called, and then a lot of standing in a queue, finally they were in their seats.
Once safely onboard, the novelty of her first plane journey wore off quickly, and so Tilly tried to lean into the strange, otherworldly experience of being on a plane. The next eight hours went by in a blur of napping, half watching films, and eating strangely textured foods that arrived at seemingly random intervals and then were whisked away.
It was only when she landed that Tilly realised she hadn’t even picked up the book she’d brought with her.
he time difference meant they’d gone the wrong way in time, and it was still very early when they landed in Washington DC. They were accompanied through customs by another airport official and got through with no problems other than an extremely long queue, and a slight pause when the border security guard asked why they were visiting the US. They had Orlando’s address to show him, but assumed telling him that they were on a magical treasure hunt to save bookwandering wasn’t something he could type into his computer, so they just said they were visiting friends.
‘Have a nice trip,’ he said, stamping their passports and waving them through.
‘Okay,’ Tilly said, showing Oskar the photo of Orlando on her phone again as they walked out into the arrivals area. The picture showed a smiling white man with a beard and blond hair tied up in a messy bun. Tilly and Oskar looked around the bustling space anxiously, before a loud American voice boomed across the crowd.
‘Beatrice Pages’ daughter! I never thought I’d see the day!’
Orlando looked exactly like his photo, right down to the broad smile. He was wearing Doc Martens, worn jeans and a denim shirt open over a T-shirt. He wrapped them both up in a huge hug.