The Thorn Island Adventure

by Fleur Hitchcock

  “Yay!” yelled Ava.

  “Aaawrgh!” the man shouted, pushing himself up out of the gloop like some kind of dripping mud monster. Standing, he blundered around blindly, crashing into the ladder and bringing it down on his own head.

  Ava glanced back at Aiden. She was almost at the boat, but the man wasn’t giving up. Aiden needed to do something fast. And then George stopped.

  “Hurry up!” Ava grabbed his hand and waded deeper into the creek, half leading, half dragging him. “Come on, we’ll have you safe in just a—”

  “It’s cold!” said George, stopping with one foot submerged as large tears rolled down his face. “I want my mum, and I don’t want to go into the cold water with you.”

  “Please just follow her, George!” shouted Aiden, reaching for a rotting branch.

  “It’s fine – just pretend you’re at the seaside,” said Ava, desperately tugging George’s hand. “See –” she scooped up a handful of water – “it’s the sea. It’s really clear; it’s just the leaves making it look black.”

  George almost looked as if he was going to trust her, when there was more uproar in the bushes by the tower. Bella burst through with a second man behind her.

  “Oh no,” muttered Aiden.

  But Bella seemed to electrify George, and as she leaped for the Black Diamond so did he, grabbing her muddy fur and holding her tight. Ava followed, throwing herself over the side. “We’re there!” she yelled.

  Aiden was too far from the boat to jump in.

  “They’re going to run away without you,” taunted the man in the red vest.

  “You won’t make it,” said the big man behind him. Dalmatian Man. “Better give up now.”

  Aiden didn’t answer.

  Ava closed her hand round the tiller, willing Aiden closer.

  At the last second Aiden threw the rotting branch at Red Vest’s legs and ran. Splashing towards the Black Diamond, he launched himself at the side of the boat, pushing it out of the shallows, out of the shade of the trees to clear water where the sail could pick up a breeze.

  He half swam, half waded, his glasses getting wet as he shoved the boat out of the shallows.

  “C’mon – nearly there!” shouted Ava, just as Dalmatian Man managed to close his fingers round Aiden’s trainer.

  “Faster!” yelled Josh as they struggled over the lumpy, bumpy roots of the trees.

  Behind them he could hear shouting.

  “Those two … tricked us … stop them!” He couldn’t make out any more words, but the voice sounded very angry. Josh thought it was probably Red Vest.

  “I’m on it!” came the woman’s voice, and then he heard an engine. It might have been a strimmer, but he had a feeling it was probably a motorbike and that it was probably chasing them.

  “They’re going to be faster than us,” shouted Chloe, swinging past an overhanging branch.

  “I’ve got an idea,” said Josh, desperately trying to remember the exact layout of the island. “Stay with me.”

  He swung to the right, shooting out of the trees and striking out across grassy parkland. There was no cover, just the occasional massive tree, but he could see the edge of the lawns of Thorn House and the thing Grandma called a ha-ha, which separated the formal garden from the rest of the grass. It was like a giant step about a metre high, with the garden above and the field below. The sheep in the park couldn’t get up it. But he hoped he and Chloe could.

  Behind them the motorbike burst from the trees. It was a hundred metres away, seventy, fifty.

  “This is mad!” shouted Chloe. “We should head for the gate.”

  “No!” Josh yelled over his shoulder. “Trust me.”

  He made it to the ha-ha first, throwing himself off his bike and chucking it up into the garden. He hauled himself up on to the grass and grabbed Chloe’s bike, dragging it up. Chloe followed a millisecond later as the motorbike thundered towards them. “Quick!” shouted Josh and he ran for the tall yew hedges that surrounded the flower beds, rolling his bike with him into the crowds of holidaymakers “ooohing” and “aaahing” over the floral displays.

  Chloe remounted and cycled straight past him into the ornamental garden.

  “You can’t bring bikes in here,” said a woman pushing a pram. “You have to go on the designated trails, don’t they, Trevor?”

  Her husband looked up from the guidebook and nodded. “Hmm, ’spec’ so,” he said, pointing at a piece of wall. “Henry the Eighth had that built, you know.”

  “Sorry,” muttered Josh, desperately trying to keep Chloe in sight. Fixing a smile on his face he dismounted and pushed the bike through the crowds, bouncing the wheel on and off the paths, stopping and starting and bumping and braking.

  “Ow!”

  “Mind out!”

  “You should be on the cycle path!”

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Josh smiled, as sweetly as he could, and attempted to look casual as he ran alongside his bike, trying to catch up with Chloe. Ahead of him she stopped to catch her breath.

  “Come on,” hissed Josh, hurrying past her. “We can’t stop.” He led the way through to the back of the garden, past the ornamental ponds. They bumped into more people and forced their bike tyres over more sandalled feet. Chloe must have said “sorry” a hundred times.

  Josh resisted the temptation to look back; he was sure they were still being pursued. The motorbike wouldn’t have been able to make it on to the ha-ha but the rider would.

  He didn’t want to slow down one bit.

  Just as they burst out into the last section of garden, Josh heard a cry. “Hey! Kids!” It was the woman. He recognised her voice and he couldn’t help turning round.

  “Don’t!” hissed Chloe.

  “Stop, kids!” Josh saw the woman for the first time. She was wearing black-leather biker gear and looked out of place in the flowery garden.

  “Look, your mum wants you,” said an elderly lady feeding squishy banana to a baby in a pushchair. “She sounds ever so upset.”

  “She’s not our mum,” said Chloe, pushing ahead until they were almost round the house, almost level with the drive. “She’s a stranger – she’s trying to kidnap us!”

  “Kids!” Leather Woman shouted once more, this time much closer.

  “Hang on a minute there,” said the elderly lady, standing up and blocking the path. “You can’t chase children that aren’t yours.”

  “They’re lying; I’m their nanny,” shouted Leather Woman.

  “She’s not our nanny,” yelled Josh, accidentally turning his front wheel and rolling off the turf on to a flowerbed and into a rose bush. Thorns from the rose dug deep into Josh’s shorts. “Ow!” he squawked.

  “Oh no!” Chloe dropped her bike on the grass and helped him tug but it seemed that the harder they pulled, the tighter the rose held on.

  “Kids – is this woman your nanny?” asked a man with a toddler in tow.

  “No – never seen her before today,” said Josh, grabbing the thorny branch with his hand and yanking it from his leg. Something went ping and the rose sprang back, releasing him.

  “What are their names then? If you’re their nanny?” asked the man.

  “Come on,” hissed Chloe, whisking her bike from the grass and running forward with it on to the gravel of the drive.

  Josh didn’t need to be told twice. He put one foot on the nearside pedal, copying the old men he’d seen on bikes in the harbour, and got the bike rolling forward before he slung his leg over the saddle.

  “Sasha a-and Calvin,” Leather Woman was shouting, lunging forward. “And they’re little horrors.”

  But by the time she’d persuaded the man with the toddler and reached the drive, Chloe and Josh were both freewheeling down the hill towards Thorn Island’s harbour, the wind in their hair and their hearts landing back in their chests.

  Aiden launched himself across the water. His fingers touched the side of the boat. He tried to grab it, but he was pulled backwards by Dalmatian M
an.

  Above him Ava wielded an oar, holding it like a baseball bat. “You can do it!” she yelled.

  “Stop!” Dalmatian Man gripped Aiden’s trainer while Aiden kicked against him.

  “Aaargh!” screamed Aiden, giving another massive kick. He caught the man under the chin, making him stagger backwards, although he still gripped the trainer. Aiden fell forward.

  “Go away, you horrible man!” shouted George, and he flung one of his sandals at him. It struck Dalmatian Man on his cheek.

  “Yay!” shouted Ava.

  “You little rat!” roared the man, stopping for a second to touch his face. It was just long enough for Aiden to wriggle his foot out of the trainer and splash into deeper water.

  Aiden’s fingers locked over the side of the boat and he worked his way round to the front, where he found the white snake line of the painter. “Yes! Paddle, Ava,” he panted. Holding the rope between his teeth, he half swam, half drowned, all the while dragging the Black Diamond out to sea. He knew they had to get the boat out on to the open water before the sails would work and they could properly escape.

  Aiden turned on to his back and kicked. Looking back towards the shore he could see Dalmatian Man hesitating at the edge of the deep water, still clutching his trainer. Then George threw his other sandal, catching the big man on the ear, and both of the dogs barked furiously.

  “We’ll find you and get you!” shouted the man, now armpit deep in the water, grabbing George’s sandals and throwing them back at the boat. Ava ignored him, paddling hard with the oar as Aiden pulled the rope taut, and gradually they dragged the Black Diamond into clear sea.

  The red-vested man shouted to Dalmatian Man and began to run along the shoreline away from them. Briefly Aiden wondered why.

  Almost immediately a little puff of wind caught the mainsail and the Black Diamond overtook Aiden. With the calm skill that had impressed their grandparents, Ava manoeuvred the dinghy in a tight circle round Aiden.

  “Gimme a hand,” he said, throwing himself and his soggy clothes over the side of the boat. George grabbed Aiden’s T-shirt and pulled until he could scramble over the top.

  Aiden lay staring at the sky, water streaming off his clothes, sucking in lungfuls of air.

  “Phew!” said George as he helped Aiden tug off his remaining trainer and got himself soaked at the same time. “Thanks,” he said. “Thank you for rescuing me! I’m…” Big tears welled up in his eyes and Aiden reached across to hold his hand.

  “That’s OK. All in a day’s work! Isn’t it, Ava?” He tried to sound really cheerful, even though his heart was hammering in his chest and he was still shocked at what they’d done.

  The boy wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “George,” he said. “I’m George Constantinides.”

  “Of Charlie’s Cheerful Chews?” asked Aiden.

  The boy nodded his lip, still quivering.

  “I’m Aiden,” said Aiden. “And that’s Ava.” He took off his glasses and wiped off the water on the bottom of Ava’s T-shirt, which was still dry, and placed them back on his nose and then looked down at his soaking-wet clothes. Now that they were out of harm’s way all the tension came to the surface, and a huge uncontrolled giggling snort came out of his chest. It was followed by another and another and he realised that he couldn’t stop laughing, finding himself rocking backwards and forwards in the boat unable to speak. “Sorry! I just can’t help thinking of the look on that man’s face when my trainer came off in his hand. It was ace!”

  Ava laughed too; like Aiden it surprised her, and it was a hiccupping kind of a laugh that came from deep inside. “Oh, Aiden, that was amazing!”

  “We’ve done it!” cried Aiden, fighting his sopping-wet jeans, and peeling them down his legs. “We’ve freed you, and we’re halfway home.”

  “Yes – but look!” said George, pointing back to a creek just beyond the one they’d left.

  Ava turned to look. “Oh!” she said. “Oh no!”

  The cream-and-blue motorboat had twice the speed of the Black Diamond. Ava willed the dinghy forward as Aiden took the paddle and held it ready to defend them. As the motorboat approached their pursuers became clearer. There were two of them. Red Vest and Dalmatian Man. Both wet. Both angry. Ava glanced across at the oar. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but with any luck Aiden would be able to pitch at least one of them into the sea. That just left one.

  Ava shook the laughter out of her head. “So there’s these two, the big guy and the man in the red vest – who else?”

  “I think there are four,” said George, biting his lip. “They’re the scary ones.” He pointed at the boat. “The man in the red vest has a really bad temper. But there’s this woman too. She was the one who took me – I was at my gym class – and there’s another man.”

  “Tell us about the other man.” Aiden put one foot on the bow of the boat and raised the oar. “What does he look like?”

  “He’s not at the tower much. He came over last night, but not this morning.” George sat up and stared into space as if clearing his thoughts. “Don’t know what he looks like – ordinary I suppose. They’re all big, like really tall, and they eat a lot of chips.”

  “Chips?” said Ava. “Everyone eats chips round here.”

  “And pasties,” said George. “They fed me on pasties. Cold ones.”

  “So the fourth man brings food?” asked Aiden. He bent his knees and took an experimental swipe with the paddle.

  “Hold on,” said Ava, pulling the sail tighter and sailing as close to the wind as she could. The gap between the dinghy and the motorboat was getting smaller second by second. They were starting to have to shout because of the roar of the motorboat’s engine.

  Bella left the bottom of the boat and put two paws on the stern, barking at the men behind and growling each time they lunged forward.

  Without Bella, George hid himself below the bench, pulling his knees into his chest. Aiden glanced up at Ava and pointed at him.

  “Hey, George, look in the forward locker,” shouted Ava. “There’ll be things to throw in there.”

  George rose to his knees and crawled under Aiden’s knee to the enormous locker in front of the mast. There were apples and flip-flops. He armed himself, jamming the flip-flops down the top of his shorts and keeping an apple in each hand.

  “We need more speed,” said Ava. “Aiden, can you…”

  Aiden abandoned the paddle and perched up on the side of the dinghy, leaning out backwards so that the back of his head almost touched the water as Ava pulled in the sail.

  “What are you doing?” asked George.

  “He’s trying to keep us flat,” explained Ava. “The more the wind tips the boat, the slower it goes. So we lean out to keep it level. Some of the big yachts have steel cables round them for people to lean right out.”

  The boy nodded. “Dad’s yacht’s got that.”

  “Your dad’s got a yacht?” asked Ava. She couldn’t actually think of anything better than sailing one of those big ocean-going yachts – with cabins and white tops and a proper crew. If only they had one right now, they’d easily outrun the motorboat.

  It was now so close she could see it clearly. It was Jake’s; it had to be. Brand new, blue and cream.

  Aiden scrabbled in the rear locker and found a small life jacket. “Here, you might need this.” He put it over George’s head and threaded the lace through the holes. George looked slightly happier. Ava just hoped he wouldn’t need it.

  Ava took the Black Diamond away from the harbour and round the side of the island. She was taking a chance. They’d be out of sight of the shore and it would be more dangerous if they capsized, but there was more wind out at sea. They could go faster. The motorboat followed, turning messily, and bounced one of the men sideways.

  “They’re not wearing seat belts,” said George. “They might fall out.”

  “Let’s see what kind of sailors they are,” Ava said, grasping the tiller firmly and leaning forward
so that she could see under the sail. “Hold tight – we could end up getting wet.” She swung the dinghy again, cutting a huge arc across the sparkling water and taking them right round the back of the island. The motorboat slowed, the driver obviously confused. He wrenched the wheel round and revved the engine.

  “Yes!” yelped Ava, and she threw the dinghy back the other way, cutting a curve towards the island, again confusing the motorboat driver and creating a little space between the two boats.

  But it didn’t last long. The man in charge of the motorboat slowed, turned and pursued again.

  This time Ava headed straight for the open sea, the motorboat almost reaching them, getting so close that they could see Dalmatian Man’s wet clothing. “Duck,” shouted Ava, and at the last second she jerked the tiller across the boat and reversed direction. The sail flopped and then instantly filled with wind, whisking them back towards the harbour, tilting the dinghy as they skimmed over the wavelets.

  “Yay!” shouted George.

  Aiden switched sides to level the boat.

  But the motorboat recovered.

  “Faster,” shouted Aiden to Ava, and she hauled in the sail until the Black Diamond was leaning almost sideways in the water. Ava nodded her head and Aiden and George rushed to level her out, but the motorboat was still gaining.

  “I’m gonna have to…” Aiden stood, wobbling towards the stern of the boat, paddle in hand.

  Three metres, two metres. Red Vest stood, stepping forward on to the prow of the boat.

  “Argh,” shouted Aiden, slashing out with the paddle.

  “No!” yelled Red Vest, trying to grab the end of the paddle and pull it.

  Aiden held tight and shoved it at his belly. The man fell back and the motorboat rammed into the stern of the Black Diamond. Aiden slipped and fell into the bottom of the boat.

  “Arrrgh,” shouted George, wobbling to his feet and launching an apple at Dalmatian Man’s head. The man let go of the wheel and the motorboat slowed.