The Great Regatta

Chapter One

Justin Finch-Fletchley and Blaise Zabini were listening to the Wizard Wireless in the saloon of Justin's yacht, Helga, lying at anchor in the Bay of Biscay. Suddenly the announcer said:

'And last, the Grand Prix of Europe in yacht racing starts on the twenty-first of June from Edinburgh. The crews have to be at least two members.'

'Damn!' Justin said.

'What?' the short, slender, olive-skinned, dark-eyed and dark-haired Blaise Zabini asked.

'The Grand Prix starts!' Justin said. 'I have to win it!'

'Well, what ails you?' Blaise asked calmly.

'But the crew of Helga consists only of me!' Justin said.

'Well, there's me. Or you think I cannot be your mate?' Blaise arched one eyebrow.

'Blaise!' Justin said 'Of course I don't!'

'Well, what's holding matters up, then?' Blaise said.

'Nothing!' Justin glowed with joy.

'Let's weigh anchor, then,' Blaise said.

'Right-ho, mate,' Justin said.

They were only traveling till now, Justin, Blaise, Blaise's cat Macavity and Justin's white mouse Fonsie, but as famed a yachtsman as Justin was, he naturally wanted to win this regatta also. So Blaise came to the deck and helped Justin to set sail. As the white sails of Helga were unfurled, Justin veered the anchor, and then went to the steering-wheel. And Helga headed into the English Channel at forty knots per hour.

'No flying overland, of course,' Justin said. 'It would be cheating.'

'Naturally.' Blaise agreed.

'Though I doubt Lord Avery will follow this rule,' Justin said. 'He likes to 'cut off corners', the swindler!'

'Cyprian Avery, the fifth Baron Avery?' Blaise asked.

'Him.' Justin nodded in deep disgust.

'Couldn't agree with you more, Juss,' Blaise said emphatically.

Helga passed the white Downs quickly, turned round the southeastern extremity of England and continued to move along the flat eastern shore. Then they passed the green hills of Yorkshire and the Borders, turned around the Lothian promontory with the Lammermuir hills in distance, and sailed proudly into the Firth of Forth. Justin steered the yacht to a bay just outside Edinburgh. There was a rather impressive building on the shore of the bay, among the trees, a number of docks and quays with stately yachts moored to the quays. They passed one great yacht of dark oak, with dark green sails, the mainmast one embroidered with an image of a manticore - a beast with human face, lion's body and scorpion's tail. Justin made a face.

'Avery's?' Blaise asked.

'Yes,' Justin said. 'She is called Manticore, and it fits him just well, a poisonous beast that he is.'

There was a handsome blonde in black silk robes standing on the deck of Manticore. He looked at Justin arrogantly.

'Oh, Finch,' he said. 'Arrived at last, did you?'

'You notwithstanding, Avery,' Justin said through clenched teeth.

Justin steered Helga to a free berth near one of the quays, and cast the anchor.

'Well, Blaise, this is the Wizard Yacht Club of Edinburgh,' he said.

'I gathered this much.' Blaise smiled.

Justin threw the gangplank, and they came to the quay - dusky Blaise, robed in red, and tall, ruddy, sandy-haired and gray-eyed Justin in canary robes. Macavity, a slender gold-red tom with speckles, large ears, enormous green eyes, long whiskers and tasseled tail, followed them, as he always did. Justin led Blaise into the building of the yacht club, along an oak-paneled hall with a large fireplace and comfortable red armchairs, through a side door to a room where a portly man was sitting at a handsome mahogany desk.

'Good afternoon, Mr. Scott,' Justin said.

'Good afternoon, Mr. Finch,' the wizard at the desk said. 'You came to enroll for the races, no doubt?'

'Quite right.' Justin smiled.

'But are you aware that to participate in the races, you have to have at least two members in the crew?'

'Quite aware,' Justin said. 'Allow me to introduce you to my first mate, Blaise Alcide Zabini.'

Mr. Scott looked at Blaise with interest.

'Professor Zabini?'

'Yes,' Blaise said.

'But did you sail before?' Mr. Scott asked.

'I helped Justin to steer many times.' Blaise answered.

'Excellent,' Mr. Scott said. 'I'll enter Helga in the competition then.'

'Good afternoon, Mr. Scott,' Justin said.

'Good afternoon, gentlemen.' Mr. Scott smiled.

Blaise, Justin and Macavity left the building of the yacht club. Almost right away they met Lord Avery.

'Oh, Lord Avery,' Justin said. 'I want to introduce you to my friend. Cyprian, Lord Avery - Mr. Blaise Zabini, my first mate.'

Blaise smiled to Lord Avery nonchalantly.

'Blaise happened to be a passenger on my ship when I heard of the Grand Prix.' Justin explained.

'Oh? Interesting. Good afternoon, Finch,' Lord Avery said and retired.

'Don't worry, Finch, we'll beat him,' Blaise said confidently.

'I hope,' Justin said.

'Don't let it weigh on you, Juss,' Blaise said. 'There are some nice places in Edinburgh, let's visit them.'

'Okay,' Justin said brightly.

'First we will go to the Tappit Hen. The best wizard inn of Edinburgh,' Blaise said.

'What is a tappet hen?' Justin asked curiously.

'T-a-p-p-i-t,' Blaise spelled the word for him. 'Literally, a crested hen, in Scots, but also a kind of jug for spirits, with broad body, slender neck and knobby lid. I stay in the Tappit Hen often.'

'I see,' Justin said.

Blaise led Justin through the narrow streets of Edinburgh to a small, old house which had a sign of a large white hen with great red crest. They entered an oak-paneled hall where a receptionist sat behind a polished wood counter.

'Guid forenicht, Professor Zabini!' the receptionist wizard said.

'Good afternoon, Malcolm,' Blaise said.

'Cam' tae stay here?' Malcolm asked.

'No, I just wanted to show this place to my friend - Mr. Finch-Fletchley.'

'Nae Justin Finch-Fletchley!?' Malcolm said.

'Him,' Blaise said. 'I am his first mate.'

'Ye dinna say!?' Malcolm said.

'But I do.' Blaise smiled.

'Weel, that's a turn!' Malcolm said.

Justin blushed furiously.

'Well, see you, Malcolm,' Blaise said. 'I'll stand a treat to Mr. Finch.'

'See ye Professor,' Malcolm said.

'Come Justin,' Blaise said.

He led Justin into the restaurant. But even as they entered, Blaise heard someone call him enthusiastically. He turned around and saw a thin man in gray robes.

'Trevor!' Blaise exclaimed. 'We haven't met for ages! I'm with a friend. Mr. Trevor Entwhistle, the alchemist - Mr. Justin Finch-Fletchley.'

'The Finch-Fletchley?' Trevor asked.

'Yes,' Justin said, blushful.

'Glad to meet you, dear sir, glad to meet you!' Trevor said.

'Justin's my old school friend,' Blaise said. 'He's running in the Grand Prix. He wanted a mate to make his crew two people, and I agreed.'

'Oh, indeed?' Trevor asked.

'Now, let's dine together, then!' Blaise said. 'The dinner's at my expense!'

Blaise led his friends to a free table. After he ordered a hearty meal of roast salmon and Spotted Dick, Blaise said emphatically:

'You know, if not for you, Justin, I'd think I have a déjà vu! This reminds me of my first meeting with Trevor, and my first case.'

'Really?' Justin asked.

'Yes,' Blaise said and began to tell the story.