Escape from Pompeii

by Jim Eldridge

  “Sweet dreams, boys,” she said. “Only three sleeps till we reach New York. Three sleeps until we see your pa again and start our new life in America.”

  The massive engines of the Titanic thumped and growled beneath us, and the steady heaving of the ship rocked us to sleep.

  At least, it rocked Mam and Ralph. Me, I pinched myself to stay awake. My plans for the night did not include falling asleep.

  As soon as it was safe, I slid out of bed and arranged a fake ‘Jimmy’ under the blankets. I rolled-up clothes for the body and used Ralph’s football for the head. Then I crept across the cabin and slipped out, closing the cabin door as quietly as I could.

  I climbed the stairs, laughing to myself at the thought of the decoy in my bed and excited by the adventure ahead of me. I had heard stories of the wild parties in the third-class common room at the front of the ship, and now I was going to see one for myself.

  The port-side corridor on E deck was the longest corridor in the whole ship. The crew nicknamed it Scotland Road. As I ran along it, the sound of music and laughter grew louder, and when I climbed the last staircase I found myself in the middle of the best party I had ever seen.

  A banjo player and an accordion player stood on a table in the middle of the room, playing their instruments hard and fast. The floor around them was filled with men and women clapping and stomping so hard that the whole room shook. I recognized the tune as ‘The Little Beggarman’, one of the folk songs Pa used to sing when we all lived together back in Kilkenny, before Pa left for America.

  I am a little beggarman and begging I have been

  For three score years in this little isle of green.

  Some of the men and women in the crowd formed lines and began dancing just like they did back home in Ireland. They kept their bodies still but their legs moved like crazy – skipping, kicking and hopping to the music. The rest of the crowd threw back their heads and sang their hearts out. I reckon even the people of New York, tucked up in their beds four thousand miles away, must have heard ‘The Little Beggarman’ that night.

  A dark-eyed man in a smart suit joined the musicians on top of the table. He held a pear-shaped instrument I hadn’t seen before and began plucking its strings with something that looked like a feather.

  I slept in the barn down at Caurabawn,

  The night was wet and I slept till dawn,

  With holes in the roof and the rain

  coming through

  And the rats and the cats, they were playing

  peek-a-boo!

  Just as we sang the rats-and-cats bit, a real live rat streaked under the table and dashed among the dancers. People screamed and pointed. Some jumped onto chairs and tables and others rushed after the rat, laughing their heads off.

  “Somebody catch it!” they cried.

  I ducked and dodged through the crowd, closing in on the rat. I’ve caught a few rodents in my time and the secret is simple – don’t try to chase it, head it off. And don’t grab where it is, grab where it’s going to be.

  I dived to the floor and cupped my hands in front of the scurrying rat.

  “Gotcha!” I cried, but I had spoken too soon. Another hand shot out in front of mine to grab the rat. Our heads banged together hard and I blacked out.

  Scholastic Children’s Books,

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  First published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd, 2017

  This electronic edition published 2017

  Text © Jim Eldridge, 2016

  Cover artwork © Two Dots

  All rights reserved

  eISBN 978 1407 17775 5

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