Monster Mission

Chapter Nineteen

The stoorworm had always been worried about his thoughts getting stuck halfway down his body.

Now he didn’t worry any more. The terrible sadness he felt as he lay curled up in the hold of the Hurricane had not got stuck anywhere. It went right down through every single segment to the tip of his tail. He was just a long tube of wretchedness and despair and shame.

It had all happened in a moment. He had heard the boobrie squawk in terror and come up from the bottom of the lake to see if he could help, and a man had shot something into his throat — a red hot needle it felt like … and then he remembered nothing more till he woke in a kind of snake pit in this ghastly place.

‘I have failed my friends,’ he thought, ‘and I have failed myself.’ And he felt so sad that he wanted to die.

From the rusty tank in the corner where the mermaids sat, came the sound of sobbing. Oona was sobbing because men kept coming down below to peer and pry — men that were worse even than Lord Brasenott — and she was terribly afraid. But the noisiest and most terrible tears came from Loreen.

‘My baby!’ she kept hiccuping. ‘My little darling, where is he?’

When Sprott had overcome Art and broken open the door of the mermaid shed Walter had been asleep in his washing-up bowl and there had been no time for Loreen to grab him before she was thrown over Sprott’s shoulder and carried towards the boat.

‘Will someone find him?’ gulped Loreen. And old Ursula said of course they would — but the trouble was, no one knew what was happening on the Island and who was left.

Perhaps the most heart-rending sight in that ghastly place were the boobrie chicks, penned in a wire cage, their yellow beaks bruised and bloodstained … and lying down, with her great yellow legs in the air like an outsize chicken ready for the pot, their mother. Lowering the struggling giant bird through the trapdoor had been so difficult that they had given her another injection and now the chicks climbed over her, peeping in bewilderment, not understanding why their mother was so still.

But Sprott’s greatest prize was not in the hold. The kraken lay on the deck, tethered by ropes which bit so hard that he could not even turn his head, and every few minutes Sprott came up to look at him and rub his hands and gloat. He had no idea what it was that he had caught, only that it would make him very, very rich. For it could speak, this thing which they had caught when Des fell into its cave. It had said ‘Father’ once, when they nailed it down on to the deck, but now its eyes were closed and it spoke no more.

‘Hurry up down there,’ Sprott shouted to the crew who were fixing the starboard engine. They would have been gone long before but for the engine playing up. It was high time they got away across the Atlantic. He’d given orders to have the thing on the deck hosed down every ten minutes but it wasn’t eating. None of the creatures were eating … they needed to be in proper cages.

For a moment he wondered if the little boy was dead — the one who’d tried to stop them in the cave. Probably not — the skulls of children were tougher than you’d think. All the same he’d be glad to be gone.

‘I thought I told you to hurry,’ Sprott shouted once again.

But still the Hurricane lay unmoving on the grey sea — and on her deck, the little kraken, his heart broken, prepared for death.

Minette sat on the floor of the boxroom, her hands round her knees, and waited for Fabio to wake.

She had been there for several hours and she would not move however much the aunts complained.

‘You’re not helping him,’ said Etta. ‘He’ll come round when he’s ready.’

But she did not speak in her usual brisk voice, and Minette took no notice. All the aunts were like wraiths since the kraken had gone.

So Minette watched and waited by her friend. Outside, in the bathroom, she could hear the high, stupid voices of Betty’s children.

‘There’s something nasty in the washbasin. It smells fishy. You can’t clean your teeth,’ whined Boo-Boo.

‘It’s eaten my Tinkerbell toothpaste. I don’t like it here. I want to go home!’

‘I want to go home too. I want to go home now.’

Minette sighed. She could never get used to the awfulness of Boo-Boo and the Little One. What was in the washbasin was the merbaby, Walter. He was missing his mother, and chewed anything he could reach.

Fabio lay without moving on the bed; the bandage round his head stood out very white in the darkened room. What if he didn’t come round at all?

But that was stupid. He was breathing. He had concussion, that was all.

Minette shut her eyes, remembering. They’d been in the cave, telling the kraken a story … trying to stop him going too near the entrance. Then suddenly something had hurtled down from the opening in the cliff above them and landed in the water. A man they had never seen before, gasping and struggling for breath.

They hadn’t been frightened at first — not till he clambered out and stared at the kraken … stared and stared … Then he felt in his sodden clothes, and from an oilskin pouch he took out a whistle and blew three sharp shrill blasts.

They had understood then. Fabio charged at the man, trying to wrench the whistle away, but it was too late. More men came from the sea and the cave filled up with shouting and torchlight and the glint of weapons … Minette had gone to the kraken’s head, slipping into the water with him, trying to calm him but the net came down over them both … He’d thought it was a game at first — cruelty was something he couldn’t understand — and she’d half hoped they’d take her with him so that she could comfort him. But they had pulled her out roughly and thrown her back into the pool.

And as she climbed out she’d seen Fabio lying on the ledge of rock … and the blood seeping from his head …

Out in the corridor the Little One was whimpering again. ‘They’ve given me the wrong sweeties. I’ve got blue sweeties and I’m a girl. Girls ought to have pink sweeties.’

It was another hour before Fabio stirred, but then he was awake at once.

‘Have they got him? Has he gone?’

‘Yes.’

Fabio put a hand to his head. ‘Did they knock me out?’

‘They kept thumping your head against the stone.’ Minette’s voice broke as she remembered Fabio’s courage and the cruelty of the men.

‘And the others? The stoorworm … the mermaids?’

‘They’ve got everyone except Walter.’

Fabio had managed to sit up.

‘Is the Hurricane still there?

‘Yes. We don’t know why but she is.’

‘Then we must board her. We must rescue him. We must rescue everybody.’

Minette stared at him. ‘You’re mad. How could we? We’ve only got the Peggoty — and the aunts won’t let us out of their sight. We’re really prisoners now because they blame themselves for you being hurt and because they left the creatures unguarded to help Myrtle. You’ve no idea what it’s like down there. And Dorothy broke one of the thug’s noses with her wok; they dragged him back to the boat but there’s blood everywhere.’

Fabio took no notice. ‘We have to. We have to get to him.’

‘Even if we did, what could we—’ began Minette and broke off. She felt like Fabio underneath. They had to try and help.

Fabio had pushed back the bedclothes. The room spun round, then steadied. He was just trying his feet on the floor when the unspeakable Boo-Boo came in.

‘That’s my teddy you’ve got there. I put him to sleep in your bed when you were in the cave and I want him because we’re going to play Mummies and Daddies in the garden and he’s my little boy.’

Fabio threw the stuffed animal across the room.

‘Get out,’ he said. And then: ‘There must be someone who could help.’

Minette looked at him. He had had an awful blow to his head — would he be able to cope with any more strangeness?

But that was silly. Fabio could cope with anything.

‘There is somebody,’ she said.

Herbert sat quietly on the point and looked out to the sea which until yesterday had been his home. He wore a pair of Art’s trousers, stripy socks and a sweater of the Captain’s. The clothes felt prickly on his skin, and his soul felt prickly too. The tears of Myrtle, the despair of the aunts, buzzed round his head. It had been so quiet in the sea.

But what was done was done. He was a man now, not a seal, and it was as a man that he must try to help the kraken’s son.

The Peggoty was in the boathouse. She was only an old fishing boat, not a tenth the size of the Hurricane, but if he could get alongside and get a grappling hook on to the deck he could climb up the rope and board her. Some selkies, when they changed shape, had trouble with their arms and legs, but his were strong.

He was checking the Peggoty’s oars, when Fabio and Minette appeared in the doorway of the shed. Fabio had pulled a woollen cap over his bandage.

‘We want to go with you,’ said Minette.

Fabio was silent. He had expected to find it a shock meeting someone who not twenty-four hours ago had been a seal, but now nothing mattered except to get to the Hurricane. Herbert had been a handsome seal and he was a handsome man but what was important was that he looked trustworthy and reliable — and strong. Some people who listen to music on the cello can be a little arty and vague, but not Herbert.

‘Have you asked the aunts?’ said Herbert, coiling a rope.

The children did not answer. Then:

‘We have to go. The kraken was our job. We have to help him, and the others too. We have to try.’

Herbert straightened himself and looked at them. He was a man now but he was not a man like other men. He had a sense of all nature being one … of children being part of the universe and not creatures set apart. He knew that if the little kraken died the sea would never be the same again, and he remembered that the kraken had trusted these two as he had trusted no one.

All the same, knowing the danger, he hesitated.

But it looked as though the matter would be taken out of his hands. For before he could speak all three of them heard the unmistakable drone of a helicopter coming towards the Island. The noise grew louder, the helicopter circled the Island once … then began the descent on to the level patch of grass behind the house.

Tears sprang to Minette’s eyes and Fabio drew in a hissing breath. Now, just when they had a chance of reaching the kraken, they had been found and would be dragged back.

Frantically they looked about for somewhere to hide. But it was too late. A policeman was climbing out of the machine and hurrying towards the house; a policewoman followed.

The adventure was over.