The Race to Kangaroo Cliff

by Alexander McCall Smith

  Badger leaned over towards Ben and told him that they would need to go up on deck. Ben nodded; he had guessed that Bartholomew wanted to talk to Badger in private and he was glad that he had been invited too.

  A few minutes later they left their table in the mess hall and made their way out on deck. Bartholomew was waiting for them exactly where he said he would be.

  “What’s up?” asked Badger.

  Bartholomew spoke quietly. There was nobody else around, but he still seemed to be anxious about what he was about to say.

  “Last night,” he said. “I took a shower really late, just before lights out. It was a quick shower and I had dried off and changed into my pyjamas. I turned off the lights in the washroom because I guessed that nobody else would be coming in after me. But as I came out of the door, I bumped into Geoffrey Shark. He had his towel and sponge bag with him, so I realised he was going to have a shower.” He paused. “In fact, I knew that he was going to have a shower because he said to me, ‘I hope you’ve left me some hot water, Fitzhardy.’ You know how rudely those three talk. It was like that.”

  Badger waited for Bartholomew to continue.

  “Well,” Bartholomew went on, “when I got back to my cabin I realised I had left my sponge bag in the washroom, so I went back and when I reached the washroom door I met Shark. He had finished his shower and was going back to his cabin. He was carrying my sponge bag, and he said to me, ‘You left this behind, Fitzhardy – I was going to bring it to you.’ I thanked him and turned to go back to my cabin. As I did so, though, I heard the shower running inside. I thought somebody else had come to take a shower after Shark.”

  He paused, lowering is voice. “But there can’t have been anyone there – because this morning I realised that Shark had turned the lights out. In fact I saw him do it. I didn’t really think anything about it at the time, but now I realise Shark must have left the shower running all night.”

  Ben drew in his breath. “All night!” he whispered.

  “Yes,” said Bartholomew. “And that must be why we’ve got no water. Shark let it all run down the drain.”

  Badger winced. “I suppose he didn’t mean to.”

  “No,” said Bartholomew. “He can’t have meant to, but it is his fault, isn’t it? It’s his fault that we have no water left.”

  Ben looked at Badger. “What are we going to do?” he asked.

  Badger thought for a moment. “I want to talk to Poppy and the others. In the meantime, Barty, I think we should keep quiet about this.”

  Bartholomew nodded. “I just felt I had to tell you,” he said. “But I won’t tell anybody else.”

  “Good,” said Badger. “Keep it that way for the time being.”

  That morning, Poppy and Fee were on helm duty for a half-watch, with Mr Rigger as Duty Officer. The winds had become much lighter as they neared Australia, and the seas were calm, so there was not much to do but to follow the course for land. It was, in fact, quite a dull task for them, and would have been even duller had they not had rather a lot to think about. And those thoughts were all about water.

  If you’ve ever been really thirsty and not been able to fill yourself a glass of water, then you will know that the last thing you should do is to think about water. That just makes it worse. But that morning, as the Tobermory made its way towards Australia with almost completely dry tanks, water was the only thing on everybody’s mind.

  And it was not just the members of the crew who were affected by the water shortage. Henry was particularly unhappy. His drinking bowl, normally filled to the brim, now held only a few drops, and he sat panting, wondering why it was that his bowl had so suddenly dried up.

  There was little fresh water for Feathers the penguin too. “I bet he wishes he were back on his iceberg,” said Fee, before remembering one of Miss Worsfold’s lessons on marine life about how penguins can also drink salt water. So Feathers was quite happy to dive into the sea from the deck of the Tobermory and drink as much as he wanted during his daily swim.

  Mr Rigger was normally one of the most cheerful of the teachers, but now Poppy and Fee did not see so much as a trace of a smile on his lips. Even his moustache, normally such a fine feature of his appearance, was drooping badly.

  Poppy decided to ask him directly what would happen. “How bad are things, Mr Rigger?” she enquired.

  Mr Rigger did not answer for a while, and Poppy wondered whether he had heard her question. But then he spoke, in a voice that sounded tired and low. “Pretty bad, Poppy. By my reckoning, we’re still several days from the closest port. We’ll have to turn on the engines to give us a bit of extra speed, but even then I’m not sure …”

  He did not finish his sentence, but sighed in a way that indicated that he had nothing further to say – or at least nothing that would make her feel any better.

  “But what about drinking water?” asked Fee.

  Mr Rigger shrugged. “Cook has put what we have left into bottles,” he said. “There’ll be one bottle between three people.”

  “One bottle between three!” exclaimed Poppy as she worked out how little that would amount to. It would be a small sip in the morning and one at night – at the most – if the bottle were to last more than a couple of days.

  Mr Rigger nodded miserably. “It’s not much,” he said. “But what choice do we have?”

  Poppy looked up at the sky. “If it rains, we’ll be all right,” she said.

  Mr Rigger tried to look cheerful. “Yes,” he said. “You’re right, Poppy. And I’m sure it’ll rain. I’m sure of that.”

  They knew, though, that Mr Rigger was just doing his best to make them feel better. That was his job, after all – to get the best out of the crew, and nobody is at his or her best if they are feeling down in the dumps.

  Then Mr Rigger asked a question. Of all the questions he could ask, this was probably the most awkward one – but he was not to know that.

  “I wonder why we ran out of water,” he began. “What could it have been?”

  He addressed the question to both of them, and they both looked away – Fee looking to port, and Poppy looking to starboard. And Mr Rigger noticed this. He was an observant man – as all sailors tend to be – and he could tell that his question had unsettled them.

  “It could have been anything,” said Poppy. “It could have been a leak.”

  It was not a lie – Poppy would never want to tell a lie – but it was not a completely truthful answer either.

  Mr Rigger was looking at her intently, and Poppy felt herself blushing.

  “Do you know something about it, Poppy?” Mr Rigger asked. “You should tell me if you do.”

  Poppy glanced at Fee, who looked down at the deck in confusion. Feeling very uncomfortable, Poppy nodded her head. “I’m not sure if I know in the sense of being one-hundred-per-cent sure, but …”

  “But we sort-of know,” interjected Fee.

  They both felt uneasy because, as in any school, there was an understanding on the Tobermory that you did not tell tales, though everybody knew that there were times when you had to tell the teachers if somebody was doing something dangerous, for example, or somebody was bullying somebody else. But it was not always easy to do this. It could make you unpopular. It was hard.

  “You ‘sort-of know’?” said Mr Rigger. “Well, in my mind you either know something or you don’t. There can’t be any ‘sort-of knowing’.”

  Poppy thought about this before she answered. “We’ve been told something,” she said at last. “We’ve been told that …” She hesitated. “We’ve been told that somebody left a shower running all night.”

  Mr Rigger looked grave. “I see,” he said. “Well, that would certainly drain the tank, I suppose.”

  “Yes,” said Poppy. “But he probably didn’t mean it.”

  Mr Rigger considered this. “No,” he said. “I suppose he didn’t. Still, it was extreme carelessness.”

  “Yes,” said Fee. “It’s just the sort of thing th
at Shark…”

  She stopped herself, putting a hand to her mouth as if to catch the words. But they were already out, and the one thing you can never do with words is put them back in your mouth.

  “Shark!?” exclaimed Mr Rigger.

  Neither girl spoke, and that was enough to confirm it.

  “That boy,” muttered Mr Rigger, shaking his head. “I should have realised.” He was going to say something more, but he stopped himself. As a rule, teachers did not discuss students with other students, but every so often something came out to show what they were thinking.

  “What are you going to do?” asked Poppy.

  “This is a difficult situation, you know,” he said. “Shark’s carelessness has put all our lives in danger. That’s not a small thing. And the Captain will have to be told about it.”

  Poppy looked worried. “But if Shark thinks we told you about it … what then?”

  “What Shark thinks is neither here nor there,” said Mr Rigger. “If he was careless, then he will have to be confronted about it and suffer the consequences. And he’ll certainly be told to be more careful in future.”

  Mr Rigger saw how uncomfortable Poppy looked. He tried to reassure her. “I don’t want you to worry about any of this,” he said. “I won’t reveal how I found out about it.”

  Poppy said nothing, but she was secretly pleased.

  “I’ve an idea,” Mr Rigger continued. “Perhaps we should give Shark the chance to own up. He’ll still be punished, perhaps not so severely, but he could at least to say sorry for his carelessness.”

  “He won’t do that,” said Poppy. “He’s not like that.”

  “Shall we see?” said Mr Rigger. “Not everybody is completely bad, you know.”

  “They are,” said Fee, referring to the unfriendly trio of Hardtack, Shark and Flubber.

  Mr Rigger shook his head. “No, even him. Even Hardtack will have some good in him.” He paused. “I’m going to have a word with Shark. I’m going to ask him if it has occurred to him that he might have left the shower running. And then I’ll see what he says.”

  “He’ll lie,” said Poppy. “He always does.”

  “We’ll see,” said Mr Rigger.

  As the day wore on, the Tobermory crew began to feel the impact of the water rationing. Having been issued with their precious bottles of water, the students kept a close eye on the level, making sure that nobody had more than his or her fair share. Ben and Badger were sharing with Thomas Seagrape, and each of them, of course, was very careful not to take more than a small sip when the bottle was handed round. But there were arguments elsewhere. Angela Singh, who was sharing with a set of twins known for their selfishness, Molly and Lolly, complained that they had taken large gulps rather than sips and had finished almost half the bottle in one go. And poor Bartholomew Fitzhardy spilled half of his bottle when he put it down without checking that the cap was screwed on properly. That did not go down well with the people he was sharing with, who said that the water that had been spilled would be treated as his share and therefore he was not entitled to any further sips. Ben felt sorry for Bartholomew and agreed with Badger and Thomas that he could have some of their water instead.

  By and large, though, everybody behaved well in the emergency except for … well, it was inevitable that if there was going to be any bad behaviour William Edward Hardtack and his gang would be mixed up in it somewhere. And what they did was so shocking that people found it hard to believe.

  Miss Worsfold, who taught classes on geography and marine life, was of course interested in all sorts of fish and had a large fish tank in her cabin. In this she kept a number of small, highly colourful tropical fish. People were allowed to visit these fish from time to time, and just about the whole school had been introduced to them and had been allowed to give them small helpings of fish food.

  When she returned to her cabin later that afternoon, Miss Worsfold saw to her surprise that the tank was only half full: somebody had taken water from it. Fortunately, her fish were still alive, but were now obliged to swim backwards and forwards in a much smaller amount of water. They were not at all happy about this.

  Word soon got around the ship as to what had happened.

  “Who on earth would do something like that?” asked Fee. “Imagine stealing water from fish!”

  Nobody had been seen going into the staff cabins, so anyone who had suspicions about who was responsible kept them quiet. But it was not long before the mystery was solved – in a quite unexpected manner.

  It was at dinner. By then everybody was feeling extremely thirsty. Thankfully, a little more water had been produced by melting some ice from the ship’s large freezers, but it was only enough to give everybody a small glassful. Still, that managed to relieve the worst symptoms of thirst and it resulted in a more cheerful atmosphere at dinner. Clouds had been spotted on the horizon, and that too helped raise the mood.

  “They look like rain clouds,” Mr Rigger observed.

  If it rained, then the tanks would soon be filled with fresh water.

  But at dinner that night it was not the possibility of rain that was the subject of conversation. Rather, it was about what happened to Hardtack and his friends shortly after the meal was served. They had just taken their seats when Hardtack suddenly gave a loud groan and clutched his stomach. No sooner had he done this than Maximilian Flubber emitted a similar groan, to be followed seconds later by Geoffrey Shark.

  “Look at Hardtack,” whispered Poppy to Fee. “I’d say that he has a rather sore stomach.”

  “And his pals too,” said Fee. “Look – Flubber’s turned green.”

  By now the whole mess hall was riveted by what was happening at Hardtack’s table, so everybody saw it when he rose to his feet, followed closely by Flubber and Shark, and ran, half-stumbling, towards the door.

  It was Poppy who first guessed what had happened. “That’s it!” she exclaimed. “They must have drunk the water from Miss Worsfold’s fish tank. And it would have been full of fish food.”

  Badger’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “Of course,” he said. “Of course that’s what must have happened. You know what fish eat? Ants’ eggs. That stuff they give fish is actually ants’ eggs.”

  “So when they drank the poor fishes’ water,” Fee joined in, “they also got a mouthful of ants’ eggs. No wonder they don’t feel well.”

  It was hard not to laugh. Nobody would have wished serious illness on Hardtack and his friends, but a little discomfort and nausea – well, that was another matter.

  Mr Rigger had seen what was happening and had followed the three boys to check that they were all right. When he came back a few minutes later, Poppy asked him whether he thought the sudden departure of Hardtack and his friends had anything to do with Matron’s half-emptied fish tank. He did not answer directly, but Poppy could tell that her guess was correct.

  “Put it this way,” said Mr Rigger, “whoever drank that water will not do anything quite so stupid again – at least, not in a hurry!”

  The clouds did bring rain that night. As the wind rose, sheets of rain swept across the waves and foaming water. And as it fell, it was collected in the tarpaulin spread out on the deck of the Tobermory and transferred by pipes down to the tanks below. These were soon full – all three of them – giving the ship more than enough fresh water to reach Australia.

  “The emergency’s over,” announced the Captain the next morning. “You may all have showers, wash your hands and fill your water bottles – all those things are now allowed.”

  Up on deck, Mr Rigger called Poppy over to have a word with her. “Now that the emergency’s over,” he said, “I thought I might tell you that I spoke to Geoffrey Shark this morning. I’m happy to say he was very apologetic about what he did. He’s going to the Captain of his own accord to apologise.”

  Poppy could not conceal her surprise. “I never thought he would,” she said.

  “Well, there you are,” said Mr Rigger. “Somet
imes people behave better than we think they will.”

  Later that morning, Poppy told Badger what Mr Rigger had said about Shark. “I think he may have learned a lesson,” she said. “And Flubber and Hardtack as well.”

  “I hope so,” said Badger. “But you never know with people like that. You may think that they’ve become better, and then all of a sudden and with no warning they do something nasty.”

  Poppy thought about this. She suspected that Badger was right, but she was unwilling to give up entirely on Hardtack, Shark and Flubber. There was still plenty of time for them to show another side to their character – and perhaps Australia would bring that out. Time would tell.

  They arrived in Sydney early in the morning. The Tobermory had been sailing all night and Poppy and Fee were on the watch ending just before sunrise. They knew they were close to land and that the bank of fog off their port bow was concealing Sydney, with its famous Harbour Bridge and Opera House. They both wanted to stay on deck to see these when the fog lifted, but there was a rule that those who had been on the last watch of the night had to go to their cabins to rest. So they went down below, climbed into their bunks and quickly fell asleep, rocked by the motion of the ship as it completed the last few miles of their journey.

  By the time the two girls awoke, the Tobermory had sailed past the protective arms of land at the entrance to Sydney Harbour. Without wasting any time, they joined the rest of the crew on deck, watching as the famous skyline revealed itself to them. Poppy was particularly excited, as Australia was her home and she knew that her parents had travelled from Alice Springs to be there to welcome them.

  “There’s the bridge!” she called out excitedly. “I’ve climbed that, you know.”

  Fee gazed at the famous bridge, a high arc of steel joining the two sides of the harbour. From a distance, it looked like a great steel rainbow.

  “You went up there?” she asked, imagining what it must be like at the top of the great structure.

  “It’s quite safe,” said Poppy. “They hook you to a wire so that you can’t fall.”