by Alan Snow
To Issy, whose father is not very good at drawing horses, & to Theo, Maya, Finn, Tom, and Ruby
CONTENTS
chapter 1 DIRTY WASHING
chapter 2 NO WAY OUT?
chapter 3 THE SCALES OF JUSTICE
chapter 4 FINE!
chapter 5 THE QUEUE
chapter 6 TREATMENT
chapter 7 FIXED!
chapter 8 AN OFFER
chapter 9 FIREWORKS
chapter 10 AN OUTRAGE!
chapter 11 READY FOR THE OFF
chapter 12 CAST OFF!
chapter 13 SUNK!
chapter 14 A FAREWELL TO HARBOR
chapter 15 SURPRISE!
chapter 16 CATCHING UP
chapter 17 SNATCHER RETURNS!
chapter 18 SAIL AND STEAM
chapter 19 PARTY PLAN
chapter 20 A BARREL OF FUN?
chapter 21 THE KING AND QUEEN OF THE OCEANS
chapter 22 THE NIGHT WATCH
chapter 23 FREEDOM
chapter 24 THE BIG SECRET
chapter 25 THE DOCTOR’S STORY
chapter 26 SOUTH TO THE HORN
chapter 27 LAND HO!
chapter 28 MONSTER!
chapter 29 MONSTROUS THOUGHTS
chapter 30 GUTTED!
chapter 31 IN AHOLE
chapter 32 “WALKIES!”
chapter 33 THE SUPERMARKET
chapter 34 THE HARD SELL
chapter 35 THE QUIET BEFORE THE STORM
chapter 36 THE BATTLE OF THE BEACH
chapter 37 UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT
chapter 38 DEAL OR NO DEAL
chapter 39 PROVISIONS
chapter 40 THE DOLDRUMS
chapter 41 BRISTOL
chapter 42 CHEEZILLA!
chapter 43 A CHEESY ENDING
chapter 44 THE WIND-UP. . .
THE HISTORY OF THE RATBRIDGE NAUTICAL LAUNDRY
The Ratbridge Nautical Laundry.
chapter 1
DIRTY WASHING
Arthur and his grandfather were on deck, helping pack up piles of washing to be returned to the customers of the Ratbridge Nautical Laundry. Around them the rats and pirates were all hard at work checking lists, hanging out clothes to dry, and emptying baskets of dirty washing down the hatch into the bilges to be washed.
“Almost out of washing powder!” shouted a rat called Bert as he tipped a shovel of pink powder down the hatch after the washing.
He tipped a shovel of pink powder down the hatch after the washing.
“You don’t half get through a lot,” commented Arthur.
“Not surprising given the state of this place’s underwear. Takes some shifting,” Grandfather said, smiling.
Then there was a commotion on the towpath. They turned to see policemen and an angry mob heading in their direction.
“What now?” muttered Tom, the worried-looking captain and laundry manager.
The police reached the gangplank, and the unruly mob stopped behind them.
“String them up!”
“Hanging’s too good for them!”
“Shame! Shame!”
Tom led the crew to the top of the gangplank to face the crowd.
One of the policemen came forward, pulled a piece of paper from his jacket, looked up at Tom, and spoke.
“Sir, are you in charge of this operation?”
Policemen and an angry mob.
“. . . Yes . . .”
“Well, I hereby arrest you and your crew.”
“SHAME ON THEM!” cried the mob.
“What have we done?” Tom and the crew had kept the town’s laundry and their noses clean ever since they had opened.
“Earlier this morning the famous Countess Grogforth visited the town on a ceremonial shopping trip and was shocked to see the town’s underwear flying from your rigging in a rude display.”
“We’re a laundry! It’s just drying clothes,” Tom protested.
Kipper, the pirate by his side, was going red with indignation. “Yes. And it’s the town’s clothes!”
“That is not my concern. Countess Grogforth passed comment on the unfashionable and coarse nature of the said underwear, and was so shocked that she fainted away, damaging her wig, her highborn sensibilities, and the town’s pride. She is now seeking compensation for that injury, and the town is suing for damages to its reputation.”
The damaged wig.
“This is ridiculous!” whispered Arthur.
His friends remained silent.
“As a law officer of this town, I hereby serve you all with this arrest warrant and summons to appear at court at ten tomorrow morning. You’re to remain here on the ship under police guard until we accompany you to court,” the policeman said. Then, pointing to the washing in the rigging with his truncheon, he added: “And take that washing in or there’ll be further charges.”
Leaning in toward the crew so that he couldn’t be heard by the mob around him, he quietly added, “Did you get the stains out of my vest?”
The stained vest.
The police set up camp.
chapter 2
NO WAY OUT?
The police set up camp at the bottom of the gangplank, and ordered the mob to disperse.
“On your way!”
The mob went quiet and looked a little uneasy. Then a rather runkled man came forward.
“Can we collect our washing first?”
Looking at how dirty the mob seemed, the officer nodded, and a queue formed on the gangplank.
“Give them their washing.”
The crew did as they were told, but this just added to their sense of injustice. As the last of the mob disappeared down the towpath, Kipper shook his head.
“After all the trouble we take with their skivvies . . .”
“Next time we should starch all their underwear.”
“There might not be a next time,” Tom said with resignation.
“Next time we should starch all their underwear.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Arthur. “This is all totally unfair.”
“The first thing is to get hold of Willbury. He’s a lawyer and will know what to do,” Grandfather replied.
“But we’re not allowed off the ship,” said Tom, eyeing the policemen.
“We could attack the Squeakers and throw them in the canal.” offered Bert.
“We could attack the Squeakers and throw them in the canal.”
“No, that would only cause more trouble. It would be better for someone to sneak off the ship, and go and tell Willbury what’s happened.”
“But how?” asked Arthur.
Marjorie, their friend and chief laundry engineer, spoke.
“Wait until darkness and use the submarine?”
There was a raising of eyebrows. Although the submarine had been attached to the side of the ship ever since the crew could remember, it hadn’t been used in years, and no one was really sure if it was still in working order. Marjorie, however, was not one to be put off by such concerns.
“I’ll have a look at it and see if it needs any attention. It’s moored on the other side of the ship, out of sight, and if we can get it going, we can submerge, go along the canal to a place where the police can’t see us, resurface, and then go and tell Willbury what’s happened.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Kipper, the largest of the pirates, said with a smile. “Who is going to go?”
“Well, I think I will have to,” said Marjorie, “as I do know how to make the thing work, but I will need some help.”
Tom looked at Arthur and Grandfather. “I think it would be best if we got you both off the ship. There is no need for you to end up in court.”
Arthur had mixed f
eelings about this. He agreed that it would be good to get his grandfather off the ship, and he had always wanted to have a go in the submarine, but leaving his friends to face the charges seemed a little disloyal.
Marjorie was watching him and spoke. “This is a dangerous mission, and I need you to help me drive the submarine.”
Arthur nodded and felt better.
* * *
It took a few hours of secretive fiddling and preparation to prepare the sub. After finding the instruction manual, Marjorie was quietly lowered over the side with her toolkit and disappeared through the hatch on the top of the conning tower. By the time that darkness fell, everything was ready.
Led by Bert, most of the crew then set up a distraction by pretending to play cards, while the group of submariners were lowered over the side and climbed into the tiny submarine.
Once inside the submarine, Marjorie took charge and ordered Arthur to close the hatch.
“Right. Arthur, I want you to take hold of the water valve levers. They allow water into tanks, and that will make the submarine submerge.”
“Not too deep, I hope,” replied Grandfather.
“Not if Arthur is careful,” Marjorie said with a smile. She pushed up the periscope and looked about.
She pushed up the periscope and looked about.
“Okay. Motor started, and Arthurd . . . open the valves.”
Arthur swung both of the levers, and there was a gurgling from the pipes. They were on their way!
Arthur swung both of the levers.
Up above the water, only the ducks noticed as a strange bent pipe started moving away from the back of the ship and heading off down the canal.
Only the ducks noticed.
“I think we’ll have to go quite a way underwater, or we’ll be seen when we come up,” said Marjorie as she scanned the canal through the periscope.
The submarine moved slowly down the canal until they were well out of sight, but before Marjorie could give the order to surface, there was a very loud CLANG! and the submarine stopped suddenly with an enormous jolt.
Inside the sub there were cries and yelps as the crew fell to the floor and the lights went out.
“What was that?” came Marjorie’s voice.
“Is everybody all right?” asked Arthur.
“I think so. My whiskers are a bit bent, but otherwise, I’m all right,” Tom replied.
“Grandfather?”
There was no reply, and Arthur felt suddenly very worried.
“Grandfather? Are you all right?” There was still no reply.
“Marjorie, get the lights back on! There is something very wrong.”
They could hear Marjorie fiddling about, and then a dim light filled the submarine.
Arthur turned to look at Grandfather where he lay on the floor. The old man had his eyes closed and was very still.
Arthur rushed to him and lifted his head from the floor. As he did so, Grandfather started to stir.
“What’s happened?” he muttered.
“We have to get him out of here. Can we surface?”
Marjorie was looking concerned.
“I hope so. We’re far enough away not to be spotted by the policemen, but I don’t know what’s happened. Arthur, you close the valves, and I’ll fill the tanks with air to get us up.”
As the tanks were filled, there was hissing, and a groaning from both Grandfather and the submarine.
Marjorie looked up the periscope. “We’re not rising. We must be caught on something. Tom, have a look out of the porthole at the front.”
The rat peered out into the gloom of the canal water.
The rat peered out into the gloom.
“It looks like a bedstead. It’s caught around our bow.”
“Let’s put as much air into the tanks as we can. That should do it.”
She moved a lever, and there was more hissing and bubbling.
“It looks like a bedstead.”
“What’s happening with the bedstead?”
Tom looked out again. “Seems to be holding us down.”
Marjorie gave another push on the lever, and the submarine finally broke free. It shot upward, broke the surface, and rose like a breaching whale, before finally splashing down and settling.
It shot upward, broke the surface, and rose like a breaching whale.
Again the crew found themselves shaken to the floor, but as Arthur was cradling Grandfather’s head, he managed to guard him from further injury—though the old man still let out a pitiful moan.
After taking a few moments to recover, Marjorie climbed up the conning tower and opened the hatch.
“Let’s get Grandfather back to the shop and find Willbury.”
It took a lot of effort and a great deal of care to get Grandfather out of the submarine and back to the shop, and by the time they had Grandfather tucked up in bed, Arthur, Kipper, Tom, and Marjorie were even more bruised and exhausted.
Willbury listened with horror to the happenings of the day as he tended to Grandfather.
“I will try to get time to prepare for the case once I have settled the patient.”
Tom and Kipper thanked him and then set off back to the ship with Marjorie, not really looking forward to the return journey in the submarine.
It took a lot of effort and a great deal of care to get Grandfather out of the submarine.
Stuffed into the dock was the entire crew.
chapter 3
THE SCALES OF JUSTICE
As the last toll of the Town Hall bell faded at ten o’clock the next morning, the clerk of the court spoke. “All rise!”
The court rose and all went quiet as in shuffled the decrepit form of Judge Podger. Stuffed into the dock was the entire crew of the Ratbridge Nautical Laundry, and standing on the floor of the court were Willbury Nibble QC and Mr. Smarmy Slingshot the prosecutor. Willbury was looking flushed, tired, and very glum after a bad night trying to tend Grandfather and preparing for the case.
He whispered to Marjorie, who was by his side.
“They’re in for it. Podger will have them hanged if he gets a chance. I’ve had to try to deal with him before.”
As soon as the judge was seated, the clerk of the court spoke again.
“The court may be seated. First case. Countess Grogforth and the Town versus the Ratbridge Nautical Laundry.”
“Very well,” Judge Podger said as he eyed the dock. “Ten years each. Send them down!”
“Ten years each. Send them down!”
“SIR! I am acting on behalf of the Ratbridge Nautical Laundry, and they plead not guilty,” Willbury protested.
“Damn you, man. I have a tea appointment at eleven.”
Mr. Smarmy Slingshot now spoke.
“Sir, I would also like the case to be heard by your graciousness, as both the Countess and the Town are seeking compensation for the criminal action of the members of the laundry.”
“Very well. But keep it short.”
“May I call the first witness, sir?”
“Get on with it!”
“Call the Countess Grogforth.”
The doors at the back of the courtroom opened, and in walked two policemen supporting what looked like an Egyptian mummy. The policemen guided the mummy to the stand, where it curtsied to the judge and sat.
Mr. Smarmy Slingshot began his questioning.
“Madam, can you tell me what has happened to you?”
The mummy made some muffled moaning noises and then went quiet.
The policemen guided the mummy to the stand.
“As you can see, m’lord, the Countess is so injured that she is unable to answer any questions, but her very state is evidence of the great crime committed against her. I have no further questions.”
“Mr. Nibble. Do you have any questions for the Countess?”
Willbury looked confused. “Er . . . no, sir. Not if she cannot answer them.”
“Very well. Any more witnesses?”
“Yes, m’lo
rd,” answered Smarmy Slingshot. “Call Chadwick Spode.”
The police collected the Countess from the stand, and she was replaced by a small weeping man dressed in an emerald green and pink suit.
“Mr. Spode. You are the fashion and society editor of the Ratbridge Gazette?”
The man nodded his head as he brushed tears away from his eyes with an orange hanky.
He brushed tears away from his eyes with an orange hanky.
“Sir, speak up!” ordered the judge.
“I apologize on behalf of Mr. Spode,” said Smarmy Slingshot, smirking at Willbury as he did so. “He is in such distress that his doctor has given him orders not to speak, but he has prepared a statement for the court.”
Willbury stood. “I object, m’lord. I have not been given a copy of this statement, so have not been able to prepare questions based on it.”
“Mr. Nibble! Objection denied. Given that he is medically excused from answering any questions, I don’t see it as necessary that you were given a copy. You are wasting my and the court’s time, and I will not take any further objections. Smarmy, please read the statement.”
Mr. Smarmy Slingshot took a grubby piece of paper from the desk behind him and read.
Mr. Smarmy Slingshot took a grubby piece of paper from the desk.
“Dear court, yesterday afternoon I was working in my office when I heard of the huge disgrace that has been brought on the town. Ratbridge is a wonderful town and fine holiday destination, but it has been brought low by the criminal antics of the Nautical Laundry. How can visitors bring children here after hearing of the rude display of underwear, clearly visible from even several miles away? Our reputation is ruined. My social column in the paper will be a laughingstock. It may take years to recover from this outrage. Yours sincerely, Chadwick Spode (GCSE English).”
Mr. Spode was now weeping deeply into his hanky.
“M’lord, as you can see, Mr. Spode is sorely injured, but this is nothing compared with the damage to the town’s reputation. I ask that the court find the defendants guilty of all the charges and fine them an amount that will cover all damages.”