The Extremely Inconvenient Adventures of Bronte Mettlestone
Page 18
Finally, that night, it was my turn with the genie bottle.
I placed it on the chest of drawers by my bed, shifted it around until it seemed to be in the right position—not too close to the bed in case I swung my hand out in my sleep and knocked it over, and not so far away that it would forget to send me a dream—and got under the covers. Taylor, Billy and I had played water polo in the swimming pool that day under a bright sun, so I was very tired. I fell asleep almost at once.
I dreamed that I was standing outside the Gainsleigh Nightingale Club. Aunt Isabelle and I had attended many balls and parties in this club, and watched plays, musicals and magic shows, so I was immediately excited. It was twilight, and people were rushing along the path in gowns or suits, drawing tickets from their handbags or pockets. But where is Aunt Isabelle? I wondered. Where is the Butler? I looked around anxiously and a handsome man in a tuxedo was striding towards me.
It was my father.
‘Oh good, there you are, Bronte,’ he said. ‘Come quickly, we must rescue your mother.’
‘She is in danger?’ I cried.
‘Rescue her from a deathly dull conversation, is what I mean,’ he said. ‘With a meteorologist. Your poor mother. This way!’
And he hurried down a dark alleyway I hadn’t seen before. We reached a wooden gate and my father pushed this open, revealing a garden lit by lanterns. A cocktail party was underway, people spilling words and laughter, wine glasses catching flashes of moonlight.
‘Oh, help,’ my father said, surprised. ‘Where’s she got to now? Vanished!’ He himself faded and was gone.
I sat up, wide awake, and trembling with rage.
Here might be a good time to tell you that I lied when I said it didn’t bother me when I heard that my parents were dead. Of course it bothered me! I had no memory of my parents! When I looked at the photograph on my aunt’s mantelpiece, I paid more attention to the trumpeter than them on purpose, to defy them!
Because they had run off without me.
In the dream, I felt annoyed with them for disappearing at the party, but the instant I woke, I fell straight into fury.
They had always been gone, but now they had truly vanished, and could never come back for me. Killed by pirates, of all things!
Sure, I’d been happy to hear the memories my aunts were sharing on this journey, but these were not my memories! They belonged to my aunts! Even though I was the child. I was the child of Patrick and Lida Mettlestone! There would never be a chance for me to get some memories all my own! To make paper chains, watch an elven football match, then stand in a kitchen doorway with my parents.
I tossed and turned in ferocious temper for the rest of the night. I did not care that they had probably not intended to be killed by pirates, or that it was likely more the pirates’ fault than their own, I was just plain mad!
Strangely, I woke to the news that pirates had been sighted in the area, and were steadily closing on our ship.
I could see the pirate ship.
Taylor, Billy and I were in the Kids’ Club with Randwick, only we weren’t playing games. We were on the seats by the portholes, watching the ocean hurtle by, while in the distance, the pirate ship grew larger.
We were very quiet.
That morning, there’d been bustle and excitement at first as everyone rushed to their muster stations, many still wearing pyjamas. But then a co-captain had addressed us in such a low, serious voice that the laughter faded and stopped.
‘We have confirmed,’ the co-captain said, ‘that the Dagger and Serpent Pirate Ship is in pursuit. Please listen carefully to everything I am about to tell you. For your own safety and that of everyone else on board, follow my instructions precisely.’
We had to put on life jackets and lock ourselves in our staterooms. We should be prepared for instructions to evacuate. If we were instructed to evacuate, all possessions were to be left behind, and we were to immediately proceed to Deck 7. Each of us was allocated a lifeboat number.
‘Captains Lisbeth and Maya are two of the greatest sailors in all the oceans,’ the co-captain concluded. ‘They have escaped pirates before.’ He cleared his throat. ‘However, the Dagger and Serpent Pirate Ship is filled with some of the most ruthless and cutthroat of them all. These pirates are no laughing matter, my friends. This is deadly serious.’
All the other children were now locked in their staterooms with their families, but Randwick had collected the three of us and brought us to the Kids’ Club. It turned out to have a double-security system, which he quickly slid closed and padlocked.
‘We’re perfectly safe,’ he said, pointing to the padlock. ‘That’s an iron door! What do you say to a game of cards?’
Only we didn’t want to play cards—we wanted to press against the portholes and watch as the pirate ship loomed larger then faded, loomed larger then faded, its black sails tall and tight. When it faced us directly, its prow seemed as sharp as an arrow.
Our ship, meanwhile, was moving very fast. We could hardly hear each other talk, the ocean was in such a roar of speed.
‘The captains have set all sail,’ Billy told us. ‘I was on deck this morning and saw. Stunsails, gallants, topgallants, royals, everything.’
‘They have,’ Randwick agreed. ‘Well done on the terminology, Billy. If anyone can get us out of this, our fine captains can. Now then, let’s see what rations we might have for lunch.’
But at that moment, the ship gave a mighty lurch and tipped abruptly sideways. Games and toys slid and crashed against the bulkhead, and both Taylor and Billy toppled to the floor. I fell forward, banging my nose hard against the glass.
There was a groan, and the ship slowly righted itself again. Now we were sailing in a different direction and skimming along even faster. The pirate ship had vanished.
‘We’ve lost it!’ Taylor declared.
‘Just out of our sights, I expect,’ Billy apologised. ‘Here she is, what?’
There it was again, farther away and in a different porthole now, but a solid black shape on the horizon.
And so it went on for all that day and into the darkening night. We sailed out into the open sea, so far from the shore that we could no longer see the coastline from any of the portholes.
We ate biscuits and watched the rush of foam in the water below, moving around the seats and then back again. Often our ship would change direction, and we’d slither to the floor, clutching each other while biscuits careened every which-way. Sometimes the ship must have caught a good wind, and we flew so fast our voices vibrated when we spoke. Other times we bounced up and down, up and down, as if we were in a carriage and the horses had taken fright and bolted, dragging us along a rutted road.
The pirate ship would fade into the distance, becoming the tiniest toy, and we would all begin to be desperately hopeful. But then it would creep towards us again. Once it drew so near we could see the shapes of pirates, some rushing around, others standing on the deck: very still they seemed to be, hands to their foreheads or resting on the hilts of their swords.
‘Come!’ Randwick said after that happened. ‘Let’s have hot chocolates. I see provisions here!’
None of us wanted one, and eventually Randwick sat back down again. I saw that his forehead was damp with sweat. He wiped his hands over his hair and it stood up even more spikily than usual.
Eventually, we began to see the great, black loom of cliffs on a distant shore.
‘Are we going to make landfall?’ Taylor wondered.
‘That would seem frightfully foolish, what?’ Billy replied. ‘And whatever is this land? It’s not the Oski coast.’
‘I know where we are!’ Randwick said suddenly. He peered into the night. The cliffs surged closer and strands of light crossed the water, forming patterns. A lighthouse, high on a cliff, was beaming these patterns down. In the glimpses of light, jagged rocks and boulders rose from the sea, all clustered at the base of the cliffs.
Yet still the ship rushed onwards!
‘It’s all right,’ Randwick murmured, but he was moving from porthole to porthole as he spoke. ‘They’re sailing us into the Demon Playground, hoping to lose them that way. Risky, very risky.’ Then he looked at us quickly. ‘But don’t worry. The captains know exactly what they’re doing.’
Things became even more terrifying then, for we had slowed down to navigate the reef and the pirate ship now soared right towards us. Through some portholes, we could see the twisting, sharp-edged shadows of rocks, harsh and broken, piercing the air, craggy and broad, or hulking low, as if in wait. Through the other portholes, there was the skull-and-crossbones flag, shivering stiffly from the pirate ship. Now we could even see the faces of pirates, illuminated by the beam of light from the shore, their mouths set in grim lines, eyes narrowed. One held a musket to his shoulder and it seemed to me for a moment that he was aiming it directly at me.
‘On the floor!’ Randwick shouted suddenly. ‘They can see us in here!’
And we all crouched, breathless.
Taylor made to stand up again, but Randwick pulled her down.
On and on the night groaned, our ship veering and tilting, the hull shrieking as it scraped against rocks, the four of us curled together on the floor. More than once, I touched the medal hanging around my neck, but each time, I remembered the elf who climbed onto my shoulder and whispered: Use that medal wisely. Would it be wise to use it now?
Eventually I must have fallen asleep, for I woke suddenly to a pounding on the door. I scrambled up, breathing hard, sure that this was pirates. Billy and Taylor were already sitting up, eyes wide with fright. Randwick wrapped his arms around all of us and whispered, ‘Hush.’
The pounding started again, and then again.
‘It’s all right,’ Randwick said, his arms relaxing now. ‘That’s the code. It’s one of the co-captains.’
He stood and unlocked the padlocks, opening the door.
At once, a beaming face pushed his way into the room. ‘All clear!’ the co-captain said. ‘The pirate ship has been wrecked in the Demon Playground, but we’re through to the other side and have not sunk!’
‘We haven’t sunk?’ Randwick asked, pretending surprise, and then he laughed at his own little joke. But his hands, I noticed, were shaking violently.
The dining hall was loud with a different sort of chatter than usual, alert and jangly, somehow. I heard fragments of talk about just how many ships had foundered in the Demon Playground, and just how many people had been killed by the pirates of the Dagger and Serpent.
Others wanted to know why the pirates hadn’t fired their cannons. An elderly man explained that the Dagger and Serpent never fired except in battle, for fear of damaging treasure that might be aboard. Instead, this man explained, they sailed close enough to board themselves, and then they shot or stabbed all passengers and crew, gathered all the treasure they could find, set fire to the ship and departed.
Some people were crying and others comforted them. The waiters came around pouring juice and coffee, serving waffles and pancakes, or smoked salmon and eggs, and today, rather than simply nodding as the food appeared, I noticed passengers looking up and smiling warmly: ‘Oh, thank you!’ Some even conversed with the waiters: ‘How did you get on last night?’ or ‘Wasn’t it dreadful? I so admire you serving us food after a night like that. I know I couldn’t do it. My heart is still beating like a racehorse! Are you all right?’
About halfway through breakfast, Aunt Lisbeth and Aunt Maya came through the door, talking quietly to each other. I think they meant to slip around to the Captain’s Table without being noticed. But whispers and nudges rushed around the dining hall—the captains are here, the captains are here—and a hush fell on the room like a heavy blanket.
My aunts could not help but notice. They paused, about to take their seats. Then, all at once, a mighty applause exploded into the room, every person clapping. And everyone was pushing back their chairs so they could stand, raising their clapping hands high. I was applauding too, as were Taylor, Billy and Randwick, and I clapped so hard that I can still remember the burning and stinging of my palms. The shout came up, ‘Three cheers for the Captains!’ and a roar of cheers like crashing waves.
Then a man gave a passionate speech about how he had sailed on many a Cruise Ship before, and been chased by many a Pirate Ship, and every blooming time, the Pirate Ship had caught up! Never before had the ship been able to out-sail or out-manoeuvre the pirates! As a consequence of which he had lost many a gold watch and diamond cufflink, and once even a doll that he had bought for his baby daughter in Cathrew Square. However, luckily, for him, it had never been the Dagger and Serpent in pursuit of his Cruise Ship before, since, if so, he’d also have lost his life by now, and wouldn’t be here to tell this tale.
‘Indeed,’ everyone murmured and somebody said, ‘Get to the point.’
Then the man said, ‘My point is this. This is my first journey on the Riddle and Popcorn Cruise Ship and I will never sail on any other vessel again. This, I swear. In all my days, I have never seen such sailing! To out-sail pirates—and such pirates as these!—for a full day in open sea! And then to negotiate the Demon Playground, with pirates—and such pirates—in pursuit! Captain Maya, Captain Lisbeth! I salute you. Indeed, I am at a loss for words!’
‘Well, not really,’ someone pointed out.
‘Three cheers for the Captains!’ another voice shouted, to shut the man up, I think, and the cheers started up again.
Eventually, Aunt Lisbeth made a short speech about how grateful she and Aunt Maya were for our kindness, and what a topnotch bunch we were, the way we’d followed the co-captains’ instructions, and how patient we’d all been, locked away, a day and night.
She paused, and I noticed how tired her eyes were, and how pale both she and Aunt Maya appeared. Then she continued. ‘I hope you can be patient for another day. As you might have noticed, we’ve anchored at a little port called Braewood, so as to carry out repairs—a topsail was ripped yesterday, and the hull took a beating. Go ahead and visit Braewood if you like. There’s a fishing community here that does a ripper of a lobster supper, and you might even come across a Faffle-Toed Turtle if you’re lucky, as they come ashore here. We’ll make sail again this afternoon, and should be back to our scheduled route by morning.’
Then she made us give three cheers to ourselves, and three cheers to the co-captains, and three cheers to the Demon Playground for offering such a slammer of an escape route. Everybody laughed. Word had come through, Aunt Lisbeth added, that those pirates who had not drowned had been picked up by the local constabulary and arrested. The Anti-Pirate League had been notified and would soon come and collect them.
We cheered at this news without being asked, then she had us cheer things like the wind and the currents, and silly things such as Sfaray Champagne and A-Good-Game-of-Tennis-on-a-Sunny-Afternoon.
Finally, Aunt Lisbeth had us applaud the cooks, for preparing this sumptuous breakfast, and she suggested we eat the breakfast, or else the cooks would be asking themselves just why they’d gone and bothered?
So everyone laughed and got on with breakfast. The atmosphere was more relaxed and festive now, less jangled. Aunts Maya and Lisbeth came and hugged us all—Taylor, Billy and me, I mean. They had a quiet word with Randwick, which I think was to thank him for taking care of us, and both gave him a hearty slap on the back. He nearly toppled over from it.
It was an overcast day and drizzling, so most grown-ups stayed on board.
However, most children went tearing down the gangplank and out onto the beach, where we raced each other, collected shells and pebbles, waded in the ocean and generally shouted a lot.
Taylor turned flips in the air so that children stopped to watch her. After a bit, she landed on her feet, put her hands in her pockets, and turned to Billy and me. ‘I wonder if they’ve got horses on this island?’ she said.
We decided to explore the island, keeping an eye out for horses (and for Faffle-Toed Turtles, we remembered, in a dutiful way). It didn’t take long for us to find ourselves wandering on a windswept, rocky moor, adrift in shades of grey and perfectly suited to the weather. There was nobody about at all. We carried on aimlessly, climbing over rocks and tripping into shallow holes. The clouds were low and the drizzle had picked up, so that there was a steady patter on our heads and dripping down the backs of our necks.
‘This is getting stupid,’ Taylor said eventually. ‘And I can’t see any horses.’
‘Can’t see any turtles either,’ I said. ‘Should we go back to the ship and get some lunch?’
‘Good plan,’ Taylor nodded.
Billy was facing the opposite direction to us. ‘Do you know,’ he said, ‘I believe these holes we keep falling over might be Faffle-Toed Turtle holes? I’m sure I read that they sleep in shallow holes in the moors.’
Taylor and I made noises like: huh. Interested, but only just. It didn’t change our decision to turn back.
But Billy was squinting at something and, as we waited, he began treading purposefully away from us.
‘Ship’s this way,’ Taylor told him.
‘Turn around, Billy,’ I advised. ‘Or else just start walking backward?’ Taylor and I giggled.
But Billy ignored us and kept walking. ‘I think there might actually be a turtle in that hole over there,’ he called back after a moment. ‘Let’s have a look, what?’
In the distance, there was a dark shape in a hole. It could easily have been a shadow or a rock, and was two or three football fields away.