CHAPTER 6
ANOTHER FALSE ALARM
Flossy, Reginald and Harry followed the Mayor out of Town Hall and down the broad stairs. Outside, misty rain continued to fall. Everything was black and shiny-grey under the low and heavy clouds. Flossy wished she hadn’t left her tricorn in the Windrush, the fast little skiff Harry and Larry had used to rescue her from the pirates. The pirate hat’s wide brim and deep runnels would have kept her head and shoulders dry.
Descending the stairs behind them and jostling for a better view were the multitude she had seen in the Hall of Deliberation. When they reached the Square they quickly surrounded the alarm bell rotunda. On the low platform, two pigs were pulling the alarm bell’s rope with all their might. One of them was precariously balancing on the shoulders of the other. Flossy recognised them as the same she had seen at Gateway Quay. They were the pigs she had surprised, and the ones who had caused the panic that lead to the burning of the museum.
Mayor Lion silently approached the unwitting pigs and roared. The sound was so loud and unexpected that the pigs flew from the rope like circus clowns and tumbled over one another across the rotunda’s wooden deck.
‘What is the meaning of this,’ the Mayor demanded.
Two gorillas-guards leapt the railing. Each picked up a wriggling pig by its hind leg and effortlessly held it aloft.
The Mayor climbed the stairs in a way that reminded Flossy of a wild animal stalking its prey. He crossed the deck and faced the pigs.
‘Perhaps you can tell us why you are, once again, responsible for a false alarm?’ There was a hungry gleam in his eyes.
‘We saw pirates and we saw sheep. We saw sheep pirates, Mr Mayor. We saw pirate sheep! And there was something big in the shadows,’ squealed one of the pigs, a large black splotch on its rump.
‘Put them down,’ said the Mayor, shaking his big head, disappointed.
‘We saw dogs! There are dogs and there are sheep and there are sheep dogs, no, dog sheep pirates,’ squealed the second pig. It was pink, fat and one of its ears was folded down so that it looked lopsided.
Flossy had no idea what they were saying.
‘Enough!’ roared the Mayor. The pigs fell silent instantly, eyes wide, tails aquiver. ‘Take them away. We’ll deal with them later.’
When the pigs had been roughly herded away, the Mayor addressed the crowd.
‘Good citizens of Port Isabel, you have been dragged into the rain for nothing more than a false alarm. Be assured, there are no pirates in Port Isabel. Last night showed us all that an overactive imagination left unchecked can lead to disastrous consequences. The pigs will be appropriately disciplined, as will anyone who rings this bell without proper cause. Please leave the Square in a quiet and orderly manner and tell everyone you meet that it was only a false alarm. That is all.’
As the crowd dispersed, newly arriving animals were told about the false alarm. They turned back and the Square quickly emptied.
The Mayor descended the stairs, approached Flossy and shook his head sadly. ‘I assure you that we’re better than this,’ he said.
Two rhino guards approached and flanked the Mayor, nostrils flaring, small, black eyes vigilant.
The Mayor turned to Harry who stood at Flossy’s side. ‘I was planning on publically thanking you and Larry Monkey for your services to the town. Except for this new disaster we’d now be at a small reception arranged in honour of you and your friends. I’m afraid the reception will have to wait. I’ll be seeing delegations all afternoon, reassuring them there are no pirates, that there never was, etcetera, etcetera. There is also the matter of what to do with the two imaginative pigs. Two false alarms in a row! You think they would have learned the first time.’
The big lion sighed. His neatly arranged mane was wet and drooping sadly. His crimson cape with golden tassels hung to one side and was splattered with mud. He looked up at Reginald.
‘Lions weren’t built for diplomacy. We’re not natural diplomats like you, Reginald. My kind doesn’t have the patience.’
‘You’re doing a fine job, Mr Mayor,’ said Reginald.
‘You could have been Mayor, you know. If it wasn’t for… We’ll never mind that for now.’
The Mayor turned to Harry.
‘I’ll send for you and Larry Monkey tomorrow, Mr Possum. Things should be a bit quieter then and we’ll be able to talk at our leisure.’
‘Thank you, sir. I’ll be sure to let Larry know when I next see him,’ said Harry.
‘And make sure you bring Miss Fairweather Human too.’ He smiled at Flossy. ‘I would dearly love to hear more about your travels and this place from whence you’ve come… Australia, you said?’
Flossy said she’d be delighted and they all said their goodbyes.
When the Mayor had gone, the horse and sloth Flossy had seen in the Hall of Deliberation approached. The sloth was still hanging from the horse’s neck. The rain had washed mud from the horse’s nose and hooves but he still looked like he needed a good bath.
Sheltering under Reginald, Harry introduced her to Stanley Horse and Sally Sloth as ‘the fearsome Pirate Fairweather’.
Stanley looked awed. She couldn’t read Sally’s expression because the sloth was hanging upside down.
‘I have an odd kind of question for you all,’ said Flossy. She stepped out from under Reginald and looked from one to the next. The dancing drizzle floated down, prickling her skin with icy needles. ‘Do you have white sheep with long black tails in Port Isabel?’
They all stared at her.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Reginald.
‘Well, when we were on our way to Town Hall I saw some sheep disappear down that alleyway, there.’ She pointed. From this angle she could only see the opening. ‘I swear that one of them had a black tail, pointing up.’
‘Pointing up?’ said Harry, surprised. He looked where she had pointed. ‘There may be sheep with black tails, but there are no sheep with tails that point up. Sheep tails have no muscle, they just flop.’
‘Has anyone heard the human expression: a wolf in sheep’s clothing?’ Reginald asked.
‘No, but the meaning’s clear enough,’ said Harry. ‘Dogs are wearing sheep skins to disguise themselves. We may be infested with pirates after all.’
‘We should, we sh-should ring the bell,’ Stanley said, stuttering dreadfully. He moved towards the rotunda.
‘Not without first being sure. I can’t be sure I saw pirates. They may just have been ordinary sheep carrying something. I only caught the briefest glimpse,’ Flossy said.
‘Flossy’s right. We shouldn’t raise the alarm until we’re sure. The Mayor has enough to deal with right now,’ said Harry, crossing his arms. ‘We don’t want to spread unnecessary panic.’
Flossy thought of the shadowy form she had seen on the roof before the stone owl fell, and of the pig’s description of something big moving in the shadows.
‘We should split into two groups and go hunting,’ she proposed, taking natural command. ‘Harry, you will ride with Sally on Stanley and I will ride on you, Reginald. Any pirates we come across won’t be able to catch Stanley—he’s too fast—and they won’t risk attacking Reginald who could easy stomp on them. We’ll search for an hour then report back here, unless we find pirates, in which case we run for the bell.’
Everyone agreed this was a fine plan, especially Stanley who pawed the cobblestones with pride when Flossy said he was too fast.
‘But can’t we meet back at the Stinging Nettle instead?’ Harry asked. ‘The lunch menu is even better than breakfast’s, and there’s a fire.’
Everyone nodded, grinning.
So they parted ways cheerfully. They would all meet back at the Stinging Nettle for lunch, in an hour’s time.
The Secret Invasion of Port Isabel Page 6