Chitty Chitty Bang Bang: The Magical Car

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Chitty Chitty Bang Bang: The Magical Car Page 4

by Ian Fleming


  And Jeremy said, “But don’t they have different money in France — francs, they’re called. What about francs?”

  And Jemima said, “What about the language? I’ve only learnt ‘oui,’ which means ‘yes,’ and ‘non,’ which means ‘no.’ That’s not going to get me very far.”

  Commander Pott said firmly, “That’s no way to treat adventures. Never say no to adventures. Always say yes. Otherwise you’ll lead a very dull life. Now then, passports — we’ll make for Calais, which is dead ahead, and go to the British Consul, who represents all English people, from the Queen down, in Calais, and get provisional passports. Money? We’ve got pounds and we’ll change them into francs. Language — Mimsie and I both talk French a bit and if we can’t make ourselves understood, we’ll find someone who talks English. More people in the world talk English than any other language and we’ll soon find someone. Right? Then that’s settled. CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG’s going to take us right across the English Channel to France. Now then, we’ll turn on the radio and get the weather report for ships and we’ll steer a bit more towards the north, as there’s quite a current running down the Channel and we don’t want to be swept along with it and suddenly find ourselves in Portugal or even in Africa.” He chuckled. “Do we?”

  And all together, and very loud and definitely, they said, “No, we don’t!”

  So Commander Pott fiddled with the dials on the radio and out came the familiar voice they had never bothered to listen to before. But now it was very important indeed. It said: “And this is the shipping forecast — North Sea and English Channel: dead calm. Patches of fog near the English coast. Further outlook, unchanged.”

  Commander Pott switched off the radio. “Well, that’s all right. But now we’ve got to keep our eyes and ears open. The English Channel’s always crowded with shipping sailing up and down from London, which is the biggest port in the world, and from Belgium and Holland and Denmark and Sweden and Norway — even from Russia — on its way to and from Africa, India, America, and even as far away as China and Japan. Ships of every nationality use the English Channel, and we’d better watch out or we’ll be run down.”

  And even as he spoke, they heard the giant beat of the engine of a big ship approaching, and Commander Pott quickly sounded the klaxon as a fog-horn, and it said “GA-GOOOO-GA, GA-GOOOO-GA” to warn the big ship. Back out of the fog came a series of huge MOOs, just like the noise a vast iron cow might make, and through the fog, coming straight at them, was the bow of a gigantic white liner.

  Well, all I can say is that she missed them by a cat’s whisker, and they just had a glimpse of lines of passengers a hundred feet above them, staring down with astonishment at the sight of a green motor-car, using its wheels sideways like propellers, in the middle of the English Channel. Then the huge stern disappeared into the fog, leaving them pitching and tossing in the choppy wake.

  “Whew!” they all said, more or less together. “That was a narrow squeak!” And Commander Pott added, rather unfairly, the others thought, “CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG, for heaven’s sake, keep your eyes open and watch where you’re going!” This gave him an idea, and he switched the fog lights on and kept on making frequent GA-GOOOO-GAs on the klaxon.

  Well, they heard many more ships passing in both directions, up and down the Channel, and once the periscope of a submarine came shooting up out of the depths to have a look at them and then quickly slid down under water again. They imagined word being passed round among the eighty or ninety men of the crew (yes, big submarines carry as many crew as that!), “Stone the crows! There’s a perishing motor-car overhead!”

  Then suddenly the fog cleared and they were out in the sunshine with the big white cliffs of France showing up on the horizon, and they all let out a cheer that quite surprised the crew of a Dutch schuyt (a kind of small barge you see a lot of in the Channel, though when it’s at home it pronounces itself “skoot”) that happened to be passing. The Dutch crew let out a big “Hurrah” too as they gazed in amazement at CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG whizzing across the surface of the calm sea.

  They sped happily on, getting nearer to France, and Commander Pott said it was now time to steer north so that they would arrive in the harbour of Calais. But this was easier said than done. The strong current kept drifting them southwards, and every time Commander Pott turned the wheel to steer north, CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG had to slow down because her wheels couldn’t go round and round like propellers and change direction at the same time. Commander Pott, and in fact all of them, began to get quite worried because there was no doubt that they were going to land on the beach at the base of the gigantic French chalk cliffs that are just as high and steep as the ones on the English shores near Dover. Sure enough, the water got shallower and shallower until they touched the shingle and the violet light on the dashboard blinked urgently and said TURN THE KNOB. When Commander Pott turned the knob, there came the same purr of machinery under the chassis, and the wheels straightened out and clicked back into the straightforward position and they bumped and churned their way up onto the beach.

  Of course everyone was very glad to be on dry land again, but nothing could alter the fact that they were stuck at the bottom of giant cliffs that soared up above them towards the sky, and the tide was still coming in and it was half past six and there would only be about three more hours of daylight. It really looked as if the whole family, and CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG, were in the most dreadful and dangerous situation.

  “Well, it’s no good just standing here making long faces,” Commander Pott said decisively. “We must split up into two parties and hurry along under the cliffs to right and left, and hope that we’ll find a little bay somewhere where we can shelter for the night above high-water mark. Right? Well now, Jemima, you come with me along to the left, and Mimsie and Jeremy, run off to the right, and let’s hope we find a safe place, because otherwise we’ll just have to put to sea again, and none of us wants to spend the night out in the Channel. All right then, off we go!”

  It was Jeremy, running on ahead of Mimsie, who found it. Round a big headland, tucked right in under the cliff so that you couldn’t see it from seawards, was the mouth of a cave! The sideways opening was quite big, about as big as garage doors, which was the first and most important comparison that came to Jeremy’s mind. He called Mimsie and together they went in, over the tide-line of seaweed and washed-up cans and bottles and bits of plastic bags and all the other junk that gets carried in on the tide. They could see that, farther in, the cave widened out and got bigger. But then it got a bit spooky and they both decided that the thing to do would be to bring CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG in with her tremendous lights before they went any farther. So they ran back, scrambling and rattling over the beach, and shouted and called for Commander Pott and Jemima, who presently came back to where Jeremy and Mimsie waited beside CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG, whose back wheels were already being dangerously approached by the rising tide.

  When Commander Pott had heard what they had to say, they all climbed into the car, and with her usual two sneezes and two bangs, she turned and moved slowly, humping and bumping over the beach, towards the cave. At the noise of her great rumbling exhaust, the sea-gulls flew screeching out from the top of the cliff, and the vibration of her rumble even dislodged small pebbles and scraps of chalk that came tumbling down the gigantic high cliff and once or twice made them cover their heads with their hands and duck.

  But they got to the hidden opening to the cave, all right, and Commander Pott turned the bonnet of the car into the opening. They nosed their way in, with a big bump, over the piled-up tide-line.

  “This is perfect,” called Commander Pott. (He had to shout because of the great BOOM-BOOM-BOOM of the exhaust inside the cave.) “It’s dry as a bone!” And he switched on the big headlights.

  Excitedly they all peered forward into the cave, which seemed to widen out as it burrowed into the cliff until it came to what looked like a corner. “Come on,” called Commander Pott. He
put CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG into low gear and they trundled forward over the pebbles, while the boom of the exhaust echoed back at them from the walls and the roof just over their heads.

  They came to the corner, and round it, and now the cave opened out and became still bigger. There were the marks of pickaxes or chisels of some kind on the walls, which meant that humans had been at work making the cave broader, and there was a straight piece and then another corner and another, and CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG rumbled and boomed on and Jeremy and Jemima (and their parents too for the matter of that) were breathless with excitement.

  Suddenly Commander Pott called, “Look out!” and there was a great squeaking whoosh, and hundreds and hundreds of bats, disturbed by the noise of the car, swept out over their heads towards the entrance! But the children weren’t particularly frightened by them, because they knew they were only little harmless mice with wings. They had often seen them flitting about in the evening at home. And they knew, too, that it was all nonsense about bats getting tangled up in your hair (which is an old wives’ tale), because, as Commander Pott had explained to them, bats have the most wonderful built-in radar that works in their heads with the help of the tips of their big soft ears, making it almost impossible for them to collide with anything — as you can see for yourself by watching them dart about among the trees in your garden, diving now and then to catch flies so tiny that the human eye can hardly see them.

  So the children just watched with curiosity as the bats poured out over their heads, and soon their squeaking disappeared and CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG came to the next corner. Now they all realized that they were far from the entrance and deep, deep inside the cliff, and they wondered, all of them rather anxiously, what they would find as CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG nosed carefully round the bend between the smooth chalk walls.

  I must admit that what they found was such a shock that even CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG’s exhaust gave a kind of trembly gulp. And Commander Pott himself, who was a brave man, gave quite a jump in the driving-seat and at once put on the brakes and switched off the engine, so that there was dead silence in the depths of the cave. As for Mimsie and Jeremy and Jemima, to be quite honest, they went all goose-pimply with fright and just stared and stared at the dreadful thing in front of them — a skeleton, a human skeleton that hung down from the ceiling and swayed softly in the small breeze that blew down the cave!

  It was probably only seconds, but it seemed like minutes, that they just sat and stared. And the empty eyeholes in the skull stared back at them, and CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG’s big lights showed up each separate bone and the rope that hung down from the roof of the cave and was tied tightly round the skeleton’s neck.

  Commander Pott spoke first, and it was good to hear his strong, human voice. “This is ridiculous,” he said scornfully. “It’s nothing but a scarecrow. There are secrets in this cave and someone wants to keep them secret and frighten people away. I vote for going on. What do you all say?”

  Mimsie said doubtfully, “If you think it’s all right, darling.”

  And Jemima said, in a rather trembly voice, “After all, it’s only a lot of old bones.”

  And Jeremy said, pretending to forget all about the skeleton, “It would be an awful bore to have to reverse the whole way back again. Besides, it’ll be jolly exciting to find out the secret of the cave.”

  And Commander Pott said, “That’s the spirit!” (Which wasn’t a very good choice of words with the ghostly skeleton swaying there in front of them!)

  “Now we’ll just have to push against his knees, so don’t be worried by his feet dragging across the car,” and he started the engine and moved slowly forward.

  Well, as you can imagine, it wasn’t very pleasant pushing against the dangling skeleton, feeling its feet scraping over the bonnet of the car and up over the windscreen and flopping down almost into Mimsie’s lap and then over the front seat and scraping between Jeremy and Jemima. But they squashed up against the sides of the seats to avoid being touched by the bony toes, and with a last rattle on the boot, they had left the skeleton behind. Only the silly Jeremy and Jemima would look back, and I must admit that they both gave quite a gasp to see the back of the skeleton swaying to and fro and all lit up by the red tail-lights of CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG! Then it really did look at its very spookiest, and they quickly swivelled round and gazed firmly ahead.

  Now there was no more sand and pebbles on the floor but just beaten-down earth, and there was quite a slope upwards as the cave wound on and on, but you can imagine that the whole family was absolutely agog to discover where the cave led to and what they were going to see round each bend.

  Suddenly Commander Pott seemed to listen carefully, and again he stopped the car and switched off the engine. And now they could all hear what he had heard — a frightening, eerie moaning that rose and fell and rose and fell and sent shivers down the spine.

  “What’s that?” they all asked, trying to keep their voices calm.

  Commander Pott leant forward and undipped the spotlight beside the windscreen. It was one of the useful spotlights you can use at night as inspection lights and to read high-up road-signs. He shone the light carefully up and along the roof of the cave until the beam came to a sort of contraption strung with shiny copper wires that was fixed into the chalk.

  Commander Pott laughed. “That’s an old trick,” he said cheerfully. “Someone really does want to scare people away from the cave. That’s a musical instrument called an Aeolian harp. It’s much the same as an ordinary harp, only the strings or wires are much thinner, so that even this small breeze blowing along them can make the strings sound this sort of moaning noise. It can get really spooky when the breeze varies and blows hard and soft in turns. I’ve seen them used before this — in ruined castles in Germany, to give the tourists a fright. Well, it hasn’t given these tourists a fright, has it?”

  And the others all said, “Oh, no. Rather not,” a bit doubtfully, and Commander Pott started up the engine and on they went again, hoping that that was the end of the nasty surprises and wondering all the more who it was who was trying to guard the secret of the cave and what, for the matter of that, the secret could be!

  Round the next two bends they crawled carefully along, with the thunder of CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG’s exhaust echoing on ahead of them. And then, all of a sudden, on a perfectly straight stretch of cave, CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG stopped dead!

  “Well, that’s funny,” said Commander Pott, examining the dials in front of him. “We’re a bit low on petrol, but there’s still five gallons. Oil pressure all right, engine temperature a bit high, but not more than it should be going up this sloping tunnel in third gear,” and he got out to open the bonnet and have a look at the engine. He walked round to the front of the car and suddenly stopped. “So that’s it!” he said softly. “She saw the trap!”

  “What trap?” they all called, leaning out to see.

  Commander Pott pointed to a very thin trip-wire stretched knee-high from wall to wall across the cave.

  He scratched his head and walked up and down the wire, looking at the ground in front in case there was a trapdoor to catch people in, and looking at the walls and the roof to see if there was some big rock or a concealed weapon waiting to drop on their heads as soon as they touched the wire. They saw him kneel down and examine where the wire joined the wall, and he finally stood up and said, “Aha! The devils! I’ve got it!” Then he walked back to the car and got out a pair of pliers and some rubber gloves he always carried for dealing with faults in CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG’s electrical system.

  “What is it?” they asked rather anxiously, because by now the whole adventure was getting almost too exciting. Commander Pott said cheerfully, “Oh, nothing much. They’re only trying to electrocute trespassers and explorers who get this far into their cave. Probably not actually kill them. Just give them a powerful shock to frighten them away. But it wouldn’t have been funny if our front bumpers had touched the wire. Might easil
y have short-circuited the whole of CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG’s electrical system as well as giving us all a nasty shock.” He looked puzzled. “Funny the way CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG saw the wire and stopped just in time. There really is something almost magical about this car.”

  (Well, of course, Jeremy and Jemima weren’t in the least surprised. They knew CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG was a magical car. Just look at the way she could fly like an aeroplane and skim across the sea like a speed-boat. And anyway, hadn’t they had their suspicions on the very first day, when they had noticed that the registration number GEN II could be read two ways? Do you see what they saw in the letters and numbers?)

  Commander Pott put on his rubber gloves (electricity can’t go through rubber) and gave one short snip at the wire, and sure enough, as the pliers cut through, there was a bright-blue flash and a shower of sparks and the two halves of the wire fell dead.

  And now, when Commander Pott got back into the driving seat and pressed the starter, CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG’s engine at once roared into life again. On they went, climbing still up the wide tunnel of the cave with the big headlights searching ahead for more dangers, and I must say that Jeremy and Jemima in the back seat were quite trembly with excitement at where in heaven’s name this underground adventure was going to end.

  Round the bends they went, on and on into the depths of the chalk cliff, and the odometer showed that they had now come a whole mile inland from the sea. The air was cold and damp, and the breeze, which got stronger and stronger, blew the cobwebs to and fro high up in the roof and made Jeremy and Jemima huddle up together to keep warm.

  And then, round a particularly sharp bend, they were suddenly faced with a blank wall of chalk that completely closed the cave. They had come to the end — or at any rate, they seemed to have come to the end — of the long cave!

 

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