The Paradise Trap

by Catherine Jinks

  His mother gasped. ‘You mean you want to take her with us in that suitcase?’ she protested. ‘Oh, no. No. That’s horrible.’

  ‘We have to, Mum.’

  ‘I’m strong enough to carry her, don’t worry,’ said Jake. But Holly didn’t look convinced.

  ‘I make children happy. I make dreams come true. You’ve no cause to entrap me if that’s all I do,’ Miss Molpe warbled, much to Jake’s annoyance.

  ‘You’re not fooling anyone,’ he retorted. ‘We know what you really are.’

  ‘I’m a songstress, a wise woman, kind and meek. Let me out and I’ll give you whatever you seek.’

  Jake ignored her. ‘I guess your plan does make sense,’ he said to Marcus, grudgingly. ‘She won’t help us unless she’s got a reason to. Otherwise she’ll send us straight down a live volcano or something.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Marcus affirmed.

  ‘And maybe when we get home, we can hand her over to the police,’ Jake concluded. Suddenly he bent down to yell at the case. ‘Did you hear that, you old bag? If you tell us the code right now, we’ll let you out when we get home. Otherwise you’re going to be locked up forever and ever.’

  There was more creepy scratching. At last Miss Molpe sang, ‘How do I know you’re not lying to me? What will you give as a guarantee?’

  Jake and Marcus looked at each other. Then Jake winked at Marcus – who realised that Jake had no intention of freeing the captive.

  Perhaps Holly reached a similar conclusion, because she promptly announced, in a firm tone, ‘Don’t you worry about that, Miss Molpe. I’ll have you out of there just as soon as we get home. If you keep your side of the bargain, we’ll keep ours. I give you my word.’ Having reassured the siren, Holly fixed Jake with a reproving glare and murmured, ‘God knows, I don’t intend to stash a little old lady on the top shelf of my linen cupboard until the day I die.’

  For a moment Miss Molpe said nothing. Then she abruptly capitulated. ‘Thank you, my dear, your word will suffice. I’m deeply grateful – you’re very nice.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Newt screamed. As everyone gaped at her, she pointed a trembling finger at the suitcase. ‘If she doesn’t stop all that goddamn rhyming, I’ll kick her teeth in, I swear!’

  Jake laughed. ‘Did you hear that?’ he asked the suitcase. ‘If you don’t stop all that goddamn rhyming, you’re going to get your teeth kicked in. Now . . .’ He took a deep breath. ‘What’s the code number?’

  36

  LEAVING AT LAST

  JAKE HAD BEEN TELLING THE TRUTH. EVERY ONE OF THE albums piled on top of his suitcase was stuffed to bursting with grisly photographs. There were shots of chandeliers made from ribs and vertebrae; skulls stacked up like profiteroles; bones arranged neatly on shelves; bones dumped in ditches or scattered around like garden ornaments.

  ‘I’ve been there,’ Coco remarked, pointing at a rosette constructed entirely out of knee joints. ‘That’s in Rome, under a church. The whole place is decorated with hip bones and things.’

  ‘Look at this!’ Holly had picked up the oldest-looking album of all. It was bound in vellum, and the pictures inside weren’t photographs, though they looked realistic. Instead, they were engraved in gold on coloured glass, and they showed a rocky seashore covered in rags and ribcages, with five beaming, birdlike creatures perched on a cliff-top eyrie. ‘Do you think these are the sirens?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Coco responded, squinting at the group portrait, ‘but I have to tell you, that sure looks like Capri. I had a lovely holiday in Naples once, and we took a boat to Capri for a day trip. Fabulous shopping.’

  ‘Who cares?’ Jake dumped the last books on the floor. ‘Let’s go.’

  But when he tried to lift the suitcase, it was too heavy for him. Even after he’d kicked it a few times, accusing Miss Molpe of purposely ‘stacking on the weight’, he still couldn’t hoist it more than a few centimetres off the ground. Finally, he and Sterling each had to take one end of the suitcase and carry it between them like a trunk, gasping and straining as they shuffled along.

  ‘She thinks she’s going to sweat us into letting her out early,’ Jake groaned, during a brief rest stop near the kiosk. ‘Like we’re stupid enough to fall for that kind of trick.’

  Miss Molpe said nothing. But Marcus heard her sigh.

  ‘Are there any adults around here?’ asked Coco. She was keeping her eye on all the scruffy, silent kids who were drifting along behind Jake. They looked slightly lost, as if they didn’t know what to do next. ‘I certainly haven’t seen any.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Jake admitted. ‘I guess I must have wanted an all-kids holiday, back when I first arrived.’

  ‘So the holiday doesn’t change when your dream changes?’ Holly seemed to be turning things over in her head. ‘That’s interesting.’

  Marcus thought so too. Then something else occurred to him – something that made his heart sink. As the rest of the party moved off again, heading for the restrooms, he plucked at his mother’s sleeve.

  ‘Mum,’ he whispered. ‘Hey, Mum.’

  ‘What?’ Her tone was distracted. ‘We mustn’t get left behind, Marcus.’

  ‘Yeah, but I was just thinking – what if this isn’t Jake’s dream holiday? What if it’s yours?’

  Holly stared at him. ‘How do you mean?’ she said.

  ‘Well, you were really keen to see Jake again – and here he is.’ Marcus glanced nervously at Jake’s retreating back. ‘I don’t know how it could have happened, but you were going on and on about the old Diamond Beach, and I suddenly thought . . . well, you know. This might be your dream come true. Not his.’

  ‘Oh my God.’ Holly tensed. ‘Oh my God, do you think so?’

  ‘I-I dunno.’

  ‘My dream holiday? No. It can’t be. Can it?’ She stood for a moment, knitting her brow and chewing on her bottom lip. Then she brightened. ‘No,’ she concluded. ‘No, it’s not mine. Because I’m here already. As a little kid. And it’s very upsetting.’ Placing one hand on her breast, she heaved a great sigh of relief. ‘No, it’s all right. I never would have put a mini-me in my own dream holiday.’

  Marcus wasn’t so sure. If Holly’s dream was to rescue Jake from twenty-odd years of captivity in his dream holiday, wouldn’t there have to be a little Holly around somewhere? Marcus was certain that, if Jake hadn’t wanted little Holly in his own beach-paradise scenario, big Holly would have been broken-hearted.

  But Marcus didn’t say anything. There was no point. If he was right, they would find out soon enough. If he was wrong, he didn’t want everybody knowing it. Instead of pursuing the matter, he followed his mother into the ladies’ room, where Prot was still doggedly guarding the lift door.

  ‘Right!’ said Jake, after he and Sterling had dropped their burden onto the floor of the lift with a mighty thump. ‘So what was that code, again?’

  Sterling had memorised the number given to them by Miss Molpe. ‘Press the buttons zero-zero-zero-zero-one-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-one,’ he told the robot, which promptly obeyed. The door slid shut. The lift began to move.

  ‘This can’t be right,’ said Coco. ‘It’s going up again.’

  ‘Give it a chance. It always goes up. It’s magic,’ Marcus reminded her, as Newt sat down on the suitcase. Sterling hadn’t recovered from his recent exertions; he was leaning against a wall, trying to get his breath back. Edison had produced a half-eaten muesli bar from his pants pocket.

  ‘I brought it from home,’ he explained, when his mother asked him where it had come from. ‘I’m starving.’

  ‘Me too,’ Newt growled.

  ‘This is taking an awfully long time,’ Jake grumbled. He gave the suitcase a nudge with his foot. ‘You’d better be telling the truth in there, or I’m going to dance on your head.’

  ‘It always takes a long time,’ Holly assured him. ‘Don’t worry.’

  Marcus suddenly wondered about the food that Jake had been eating for so many years. If
it was magic food, what did that mean for Jake? Was magic keeping him alive? Would he shrivel up like a snakeskin the minute he returned to the real world?

  ‘Hey – um . . . Jake?’ Marcus didn’t know if he should warn Jake or not. ‘I was just thinking – um, about the food. Maybe we should ask her . . .’ He hesitated.

  ‘Ask her what?’ said Coco, when Marcus didn’t finish. But before he could reply, the lift stopped. There was a sharp ping as the door opened to reveal a familiar beige carpet and a set of well-stocked display shelves.

  They were back at Siren Song Travel.

  37

  NEARLY HOM

  ‘OH, THANK GOD. THANK GOD!’ HOLLY EXCLAIMED.

  Coco surveyed the room in front of her. ‘Is this it?’ she asked. ‘Is this the office you were talking about?’

  ‘This is it,’ her husband confirmed.

  Edison jumped out of the lift, then scurried towards the only door in sight before Marcus could grab him.

  ‘Wait!’ cried Marcus. ‘Don’t! Let Prot do that!’

  But it was too late. Edison had dashed past the desk and yanked open the door – to reveal a rickety wooden staircase in a brick-lined cellar.

  Marcus felt limp with relief. He’d been expecting the amusement park again.

  ‘Oh, wow!’ Edison shrilled. ‘We’re back! Look! We did it!’

  ‘Edison!’ Coco rapped out. ‘Stay right where you are, young man!’

  He didn’t, though; he just kept moving. Newt, meanwhile, had hauled herself to her feet.

  ‘I am so out of here,’ she declared, stepping into the office without a backward glance. Coco quickly followed her. As for Sterling, he looked at Jake (who was blinking back tears) and said in a hesitant voice, ‘Do you want to help me with this suitcase, or . . . um . . . ?’

  ‘Just give him a minute,’ Holly advised. She gently touched Jake’s arm. ‘It’s all right,’ she murmured. ‘You’re nearly home.’

  ‘I can’t . . .’ He choked on a sob.

  ‘It must be very hard,’ Holly sympathised.

  ‘I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I’m out.’

  ‘You’re not out yet,’ warned Marcus. ‘Not until you leave the cellar.’

  Prot, by this time, was buzzing towards Coco, who stood at the door of the office. ‘Come on, Sterling!’ Coco nagged. ‘We’ve been down here long enough!’

  ‘I’m coming,’ her husband replied. But still he lingered, his gaze fixed on Jake’s hunched form.

  ‘I’m fine. I’ll be right there,’ Jake said hoarsely. He doubled over to lift his end of the suitcase while Marcus pursued Prot into the cellar, which hadn’t changed one bit. Everything was exactly as they’d left it; the same old flagstone floor and trailing cobwebs were illumined by a faint wash of light from the top of the stairs.

  Edison had already climbed these stairs, and was shouting the good news down to his stepmother.

  ‘It’s okay! We’re home!’ he announced. ‘Everything’s normal up here!’

  ‘Really? Thank God,’ said Coco. Unlike Newt, however, she didn’t immediately rush to join Edison. Even though Sterling and Jake were moving very slowly, weighed down by the load they were carrying, Coco chose to wait for her husband.

  ‘Jeez!’ Sterling complained. ‘Am I nuts, or has this thing got even heavier?’

  Jake grunted. From her post at his side, Holly said, ‘You can’t possibly carry it all the way up those stairs. You’ll kill yourselves. Why don’t you let the poor woman get out and walk?’

  ‘That’s not a bad notion,’ Sterling agreed. And from within the suitcase, a tiny voice quavered, ‘Release me now and you won’t regret it. Your heart will guide you, if you’ll only let it.’

  ‘Shut up!’ Jake barked. He then dropped his end of the suitcase with a thump that shook the whole cellar.

  ‘Ow,’ said Miss Molpe.

  ‘Just give me a minute.’ Ignoring her, Jake flexed his shoulders and took a few deep, reviving breaths. ‘All I need is a quick break and I’ll get the suitcase up those stairs, no problem.’

  Holly frowned. ‘But—’

  ‘We can’t let her out down here,’ Jake insisted. And Marcus backed him up.

  ‘Jake’s right,’ said Marcus. ‘We can’t risk it. We need to get her into the real world first.’

  ‘I don’t see why,’ his mother argued. ‘What difference will it make?’

  ‘The real world doesn’t belong to her.’ Marcus had been giving the matter some careful thought. ‘That’s probably why she can’t get out of Jake’s suitcase. If that suitcase had come from the world she created, I bet she could have got out of it quick smart.’ He glanced at the suitcase in question. ‘Once we’re in the real world,’ he added, ‘we’ll have a much better chance. Because she can only hurt people after she lures them into her world.’

  Holly sighed and gave up. Jake nodded. Coco shrugged. Sterling beamed his approval, saying, ‘That’s very ingenious. I bet you’ll be designing computer games when you get older.’

  Only Miss Molpe wasn’t impressed.

  ‘You’re wrong; I’m weak wherever I go. You could knock me out with a single blow,’ she sang, from inside the suitcase. At which point something else occurred to Marcus. Was there a chance that she would simply turn to dust in the real world?

  ‘Hey!’ Newt suddenly bawled from the top of the staircase, making everybody jump. ‘Are you guys coming, or what?’

  ‘We’re on our way!’ Coco yelled back. She then briskly patted her husband’s arm. ‘Don’t give yourself a hernia,’ she told him, before padding upstairs in her grimy slippers.

  Marcus hurried after her. He didn’t want to hang around and blurt out all the terrible things that were on his mind. As he crawled out of the banquette seat, he heard Miss Molpe behind him, brokenly crooning, ‘I’ve kept my promise; won’t you keep yours? You’re gaoling me without a cause.’ He also heard the sound of someone’s heavy, dragging tread, together with Holly’s worried voice, warning Jake to ‘please be careful – watch that step – slow down, Jake, or you’ll hurt yourself!’

  Gazing around at the caravan, Marcus derived some comfort from the fact that everything looked so shabby and soiled. Edison’s amusement park had been spotless, as had Coco’s spa and Jake’s version of Diamond Beach. The sight of so much ingrained dirt was therefore very reassuring; Marcus had learned to distrust perfection.

  But then Sterling exclaimed, from under the floor, ‘Am I double nuts, or is this suitcase getting lighter again?’ And Marcus felt his heart skip a beat.

  Maybe the siren had already turned to dust!

  ‘I don’t know if this is going to work,’ he faltered, with growing alarm. What if Jake started to disintegrate before his very eyes?

  He was about to suggest that Jake might want to think twice about leaving the cellar when Edison cut him off.

  ‘It’s okay,’ said Edison, misinterpreting Marcus’s concern. ‘There’s just enough room for the suitcase to fit through this hole.’ Leaning down into the seat, he bellowed, ‘Hey, Dad! We can pull that thing through from our side if you give it a big shove!’

  ‘Okay!’ Sterling’s answer was muffled. ‘I think we can do that! It’s not so heavy all of a sudden!’

  ‘Wait,’ Marcus protested. ‘Hang on. I was just wondering . . .’

  Thudda-thudda-thump! Without warning, the suitcase suddenly reared into view, toppled over the rim of the seat, and somersaulted onto the floor of the caravan – just as a thunderous knock on the door made everyone freeze like rabbits in a spotlight.

  ‘This is Park Security!’ a deep voice boomed. ‘Is anybody in there?’

  38

  ‘LET HER GO!’

  EVERYONE EXCHANGED HORRIFIED LOOKS. THEN MISS MOLPE fluted, ‘Come in, come in, and set me free! I need your help – they’ve captured me!’

  ‘Hello?’ Once again, a meaty fist pounded on the door. ‘Are you in there? Hello?’

  Newt and Coco clutched each other.


  ‘What’ll we do?’ Coco whispered.

  ‘Let her out! Quick!’

  ‘He’s not the police. He can’t arrest us.’

  ‘He’ll call the police if he hears that,’ Newt hissed, jerking her chin at the suitcase – which was emitting low, sinister noises. Meanwhile, Sterling had hauled himself over the edge of the seat, clearing the way for Holly to climb out.

  Edison peered up at Marcus, who was very worried.

  ‘Are we allowed to open the suitcase?’ Edison inquired, under his breath.

  ‘I dunno.’

  Knock-knock-knock. ‘We’ve had a complaint about a missing dog!’ the security officer announced, as Holly joined Sterling. ‘Do you have a dog in there, by any chance?’

  ‘Um – hang on a minute!’ Coco pleaded. Then she lowered her voice, appealing to Holly. ‘We can’t open this door until something’s done about that.’ Coco was referring to the suitcase. Before anyone else could do more than glance at it, she addressed the security officer again. ‘There’s no dog in here!’ she assured him.

  Marcus sucked air through his teeth. ‘Actually . . . there is. Sort of,’ he mumbled. ‘It’s downstairs. In its own dream holiday.’

  ‘We’ve had a report that a small white dog wearing goggles and waterwings was last seen entering this caravan!’ the security officer continued. ‘Could I talk to you about that, please? Could you open the door?’

  Newt pulled a face at her stepmother. Coco turned to Holly, who took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

  ‘Just give us one minute,’ she requested, before marching towards the suitcase.

  ‘No!’ rasped Jake, whose head had popped into view. ‘Wait! Not yet!’

  ‘We have to let her out,’ said Holly, as quietly as she could.

  ‘Okay, okay! Just wait till I’m ready!’ Jake threw himself over the rim of the seat in a single, fluid movement, landing almost soundlessly beside Sterling. ‘I’ll grab her when you open the lid, all right? On the count of three . . .’