“Let me have a go, Cap’n,” said Unlucky Pete, jumping up at the bird. “I’m good with birds.” The parrot flapped its wings in Pete’s face making Pete topple forwards across the Captain’s boots. With a final triumphant squawk, the parrot flew over the side of the ship.
“Hey! Come back.” Captain Thunders raced to the deck-rail, watching the yellow speck until it vanished from view. “I’ll give you good with birds…” He spun round making ready to box Unlucky Pete’s ears. He looked everywhere but Pete had mysteriously disappeared.
Captain Thunders banged his fist down on the deck rail. It had not been a good day. First there had been no treasure on board the frigate. And then the magnificent blue and yellow parrot had escaped almost as soon as it was caught. Someone would have to pay for this. Captain Thunders stamped both his feet and growled.
Still steering the ship, Hooknose stuck his nose high in the air when the Captain stomped his way. “Bad tempers do not a gentleman make,” he warned. But the Captain ignored him and kicked out the side out of a barrel. It oozed rum all over the deck. About to kick another barrel, the Captain slipped in the rum and fell over. Trying to get up, soon the Captain found his palms were covered in thick, sticky rum.
“Groo!” said Captain Thunders. “I feel sick.”
High above him the sails billowed outwards, then flapped inwards. The Captain’s eyes crossed. Overcome by dizziness, he fell flat on his back in the middle of the deck, in exactly the same spot where he had woken up earlier.
*
Alfie opened his eyes and saw a tiny little spider hanging from a silken rope was hovering above his nose.
“Blinkin’ spiders!” said Alfie. He sat up, brushed the dust from his trousers, then carefully opened the door. The corridor was still empty – the coast was clear. He ran down the corridor and had only just settled himself on the bench when the classroom door opened and Miss Pinches emerged.
“Well, Alfie,” she said, folding her arms. “I hope that this has been a lesson to you.” She waggled a finger at him, her neat little eyebrows joining together in disapproval. “Having to sit in this draughty old corridor while we were inside learning interesting things.”
Alfie fought back a laugh. “Yes, Miss,” he said. “It has been so very boring sitting out here.”
Chapter Seven
The Very Ugly Mermaid
Alfie Rains was tucked up warmly in bed. The clock on the wall endlessly ticking away the minutes, until, finally, he heard the creak of the stairs as his parents headed for bed.
After all had gone quiet inside the Rains’ house, Alfie whisked back his bedcovers and silently pulled open his bedroom door. Trying hard to keep away from the creaky bits on the stairs, he tip-toed down the edges.
All was dark and quiet in the kitchen, except from the low hum from the fridge-freezer. Alfie opened the fridge door, scanning the shelves for signs of cheese. He eventually found some tucked away right at the back. But, horror of horrors, it was blue cheese. Hard as he searched for plain, old, yellow cheese, there was none to be found. With a sigh of rib raising proportions Alfie took the chunk of cheese and tip-toed back upstairs to his bedroom.
Under the covers, the smell of the blue cheese was unbearable. Alfie gritted his teeth. He took a deep breath and then a big bite, chewing as fast as he could. The cheese made his eyes water, he had to rub them on his pillow. Almost as soon as he’d finished chewing, Alfie burped. The violent expulsion made his nose run. He felt very hot and sweaty, burped once more, popped and was gone.
*
“Rouse yourself from sleep, Cap’n,” said Portuguese John. “A storm’s brewing up ahead and must make ready to fight it.”
Captain Thunders leapt out of his hammock. Snatching the telescope from Portuguese John’s eye, he scanned the horizon.
“ARRRR.” The noise rumbled up from deep inside the Captain’s stomach. “The sky is as dark is as the devil’s heart.”
Billowing black clouds rolled over the ocean, heading at top speed towards The Merry Mary. The waves started to rock and roll, big drops of rain gushed out of the clouds, splattering all over the deck. Mr Spinks hated getting wet. The little monkey scampered to the nearest locker, swiftly disappearing inside to hide from the burgeoning storm.
Spider Sam fought with the ship’s wheel trying to keep control of the vessel as powerful winds howled through the rigging. Vanessa clung onto the top of his hat, holding on tightly with all eight of her legs, grumbling and muttering each time a raindrop soaked her furry body. Spider Sam took pity on her. Lifting his hat he shook the raindrops from the soggy spider. Popping her on his head he dropped the hat back down. A little leg-stroke on his hair told him Vanessa was happy to be out of the storm.
Rain lashed the sails. The brutal wind whipped away the oilskin cloaks the pirates had donned, making them flap like flags behind their backs. Towering waves crashed onto the deck, soaking the pirate’s clothes right through to the skin. The crew fought hard to keep the ship from sinking. Captain Thunders stood firm at the prow of the ship, hands clamped to the deck rail, he stared defiantly out at the storm.
“GO AWAY!” he yelled. “DON’T BREAK MY SHIP!”
Almost at once, the winds dropped. The rain slowed down to a trickle and then turned off altogether. The sun came out and began to shine brightly upon The Merry Mary. Raindrops sizzled on the deck as they dried up. The sails calmed themselves and hung, sadly dripping, exhausted from the fight. The pirates began to remove their dripping wet cloaks. Very slowly, Spider Sam’s hat rose up from his head, Vanessa’s legs appeared and she crawled down onto his shoulder.
“What a shower you all look,” she said, eyeing the bedraggled crew.
Nathan gaped up at Captain Thunders in wonder. “Wow, Master,” he gasped, eyes wide with awe. “Truly, you can command the powers of nature.”
“Hah!” Captain Thunders rose triumphant. “I have super powers!” he crowed. “For I am Captain Thunders – King of the pirates!”
“Rubbish!” The harsh voice seemed to come from somewhere close by. The pirates began looking around but could see no-one on deck aside from themselves.
“Was that you?” snarled Captain Thunders to Vanessa, who was on the deck rail, skittering about.
“No, but I wish it had been,” she hissed through clenched fangs. Vanessa quickly backed up along the rail, just in case the Captain’s ham sized fist came heading her way.
“It was me!” Once again, the loud, grating voice called out.
Captain Thunders looked over the side of the ship. There paddling about, amidst the storm tossed froth, was a mermaid.
“Popping prawns!” said the Captain, gaping in surprise. “You are quite the ugliest mermaid I ever did see.”
“Oy!” yelled the mermaid. “You dare to call me ugly – you great bulbous-nosed sea-blight and I’ll have you know I was crowned the ‘Queen of the Waves’ back in ‘96”
“1096?” Portuguese John laughed so hard, he clutched his stomach with both hands, rolling about in the grip of a tide of mirth. “I’m glad I wasn’t there – just imagine what the others must have looked like if you won a beauty contest. Cor – they must have been proper gargoyles and make no mistake.”
“Gargoyles!” Throwing back his head, Captain Thunders let out a mighty roar of laughter.
“Oy!” yelled the very ugly mermaid. “Don’t be nasty. Pirates are always so very rude.” Folding her flabby arms across the two barnacled scallop shells she wore as a top she snarled at them. A shark popped up by the mermaid’s side and began circling her, growing ever closer.
“Get lost, gummy,” said the mermaid, raising a fist. “I’d get those gnashers of yours checked if I were you, they look at if they are about to fall out at any minute – if you get my meaning.” Fear danced in the shark’s eyes. Shutting its jaws with a snap, it immediately sank beneath the waves.
“Hah,” said the mermaid. “Stupid fish, never mess with a mermaid.”
“What
do you want with us? – o’vision of ugliness.” Captain Thunders stared down at her.
“My name’s Merturtle, if you don’t mind,” said the mermaid, huffily.
“Merturtle!” laughed Vanessa. “What a silly name.” She laughed so much her furry body rolled over and she shook all her legs in the air.
Pushing her hands through her frizzy yellow hair, Merturtle puffed it out so much she looked just like a dandelion head. Aside from Hooknose, who had taken over steering, the pirates were all hanging over the side of the ship. Merturtle pouted her big rubbery lips until the top one touched the end of her lumpy nose, her cheeks crinkled and her tiny little eyes almost disappeared into her squidgy face.
“I think she’s smiling,” hissed Nathan to Portuguese John.
“How can you tell?” asked John as Merturtle tipped them a most alarming wink. “Yuck!” said John.
“Got something in your eye, ‘ave you?” said Captain Thunders.
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” shouted Merturtle. “Well, let me tell you something, Mr Big and Ugly Pirate – you didn’t stop that storm, it stopped itself. Storms do that, ya know? They blow themselves out. So, it wasn’t you that stopped the storm – what do you think of that? Eh? Eh?” She pointed at Captain Thunders, cackling crazily, showing a mouthful of crooked teeth.
The big smirk on Captain Thunders’ face fell away. He really had believed he’d commanded the storm to stop raging and he’d so badly wanted to have super powers. Bitter disappointment swamped the Captain as he frowned down on the laughing mermaid.
Mr Spinks climbed up the back of the Captain’s jacket. He sat on his shoulder chattering and waving a small finger at Merturtle. The monkey rummaged in his pockets and began pelting walnut shells down upon the mermaid’s head. Merturtle screamed and ducked under the waves.
Captain Thunders laughed and patted the monkey on his small furry head. “Good job Mr Spinks,” he said, wondering, if perhaps, the monkey wasn’t quite so bad after all.
“Hey!” When the onslaught of nutshells had stopped falling, Merturtle re-emerged from the waves. “I couldn’t help noticing you don’t have a figurehead.” She pointed to the front of the ship. “I could do with a job. I haven’t had much luck with the beauty contests lately.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Vanessa, sniggering. “You ought to try entering an ugly contest instead.”
“Oy!” Shaking her fist in fury, Merturtle’s sea shell top rattled like a basket full of clockwork false teeth. “How dare you say that to me? I will have you know that I am still very comely for my age.”
“And how old would that be?” shouted Portuguese John.
“Four hundred and seventy,” said Merturtle. “As if it’s any of your beeswax, Stump – you should never ask a lady her age. Pirates are so rude! So, how about it then – can I be your figurehead?”
“By sacred Neptune’s name – no, a thousand times, no!” Captain Thunders frowned. “The Merry Mary is a fine ship. She needs a figurehead of great beauty – not some festering sea-crone. Go and front a dredger, you manky mer-person, you.”
“Hey, Master.” Nathan was giggling fit to burst. “You could always change the name of the ship to ‘The Mouldy Mermaid’!”
“Oh, oh, I’ve got one.” Overcome with mirth, Vanessa was jiggling about on the deck-rail. “How about ‘The Unsightly Siren’?”
“No!” howled Unlucky Pete. “’The Hideous Sea-hag’.”
At a wave from Hooknose, Pete ran over to take the ship’s wheel so that Hooknose could join in the fun.
“HAR-DE-HAR!” Thumping his chest and wiping tears from his eyes, Captain Thunders roared with laughter. A delighted Mr Spinks jumped up and down on his shoulder, shrieking with glee.
“Ahem,” said Hooknose. “As peculiar a situation as this is – we do, indeed need a figurehead, Captain.”
Captain Thunders stopped laughing. “We do? Why?”
Hooknose stroked the ends of his moustache. “It is bad luck to travel abroad without a figurehead, Captain. In point of fact, it may be the lack of a figurehead which caused our problem with the nuns and the lost parrot.”
Hooknose straightened his hat. When Merturtle began picking her nose, Hooknose’s craggily handsome features took on a pained expression as he watched her wiping mermaid snot in her frizzy yellow hair. Mr Spinks leapt from the Captain’s shoulder across to his master where he began curling one side of Hooknose’s glossy moustaches into an even tighter twirl, chattering happily, the while.
“I bring good luck,” said Merturtle, who was desperately trying to up-sell herself in order to get the job. “I’m a whiz at spotting ships and can smell trouble over a rotting whale carcass better than any other figurehead.”
Captain Thunders cranked up one of his hairy black eyebrows. What Hooknose had said made sense. He still hadn’t forgotten their first attempt at piracy, and those accursed nuns. “How easy is it to find a figurehead?” he asked.
“Not good for pirate ships,” said Portuguese John. “Figureheads are mostly created good and don’t want to sail under the black flag.”
“I’ve seen far worse than her,” said Spider Sam, pointing at Merturtle. “Captain Goatbreath’s ship had Driftwood Diabolique on the front, remember her – Hooknose?”
“I still see her in my nightmares,” said Hooknose, shuddering.
“All right, you monstrous scab-tail,” said Captain Thunders. “One week’s trial and if you don’t bring us good luck – I’m throwing you back! Haul her up, lads.”
As Merturtle swung over the side, she flashed a smile at the Captain, puffing out haddock fumes all over him.
“Groo!” said the Captain.
*
Alfie Rains woke up in his own little bed, blinking in surprise to see his blue and red room rather than the deck of The Merry Mary.
Chapter Eight
The Island of Despair
It was lunchtime and Alfie was prowling around the school playground looking for Trixie.
“There she is,” he whispered. Standing close to the school picnic tables, Trixie was throwing a ball against the wall, catching it neatly each time. Quietly, Alfie ran up behind her, stopping so close he could smell her flowery shampoo.
“Hey, Trixie!” he yelled.
“Whaa?” Trixie dropped her ball. She turned, red curls flopping over her eyes. “Alfie!” Trixie scowled. Retrieving her ball, she began squeezing it hard. “What do you want, Alfie? I was going to have my lunch when Saffron gets back from netball.” She pointed to a lilac lunchbox resting on the table.
Alfie looked round, he didn’t much like Saffron Bates and she may well scupper his plans if she showed up too soon, so he knew he had to work fast.
“What have you got in your sandwiches, Trixie?” Alfie put on his sweetest most engaging smile.
“What?” Trixie looked puzzled. “I don’t know – I haven’t looked yet.” She opened her lunchbox and peeked under a sandwich lid. “Cheese,” she said.
Alfie knew full well what was in Trixie’s sandwiches as he’d heard Mrs Fleming discussing sandwich fillings with his mother.
“Want to swap?” Alfie nonchalantly examined his grubby fingernails.
“Why? What have you got?” asked Trixie.
“Chocolate spread,” said Alfie, giving her one of his most alluring smiles.
“Oooh!” Trixie sighed, drooping with longing. “I love chocolate spread – I love it so much, but Mummy says I have beautiful teeth and mustn’t spoil them by eating sticky, chocolate gloop.”
“I like sticky chocolate gloop,” said Alfie. “And I can eat it all the time, every day if I wanted. In fact, I’ve had so much of it I may throw these away.” Producing his lunchbox from behind his back, Alfie flipped the lid open.
“No!” Trixie made a grab for the sandwiches. “I’ll swap you my cheese sandwiches for your chocolate spread.”
Alfie twisted his lip and drew back a step. “I don’t know,
Trixie. If I did, you’d tell your Mummy and I’d get into trouble.”
“I wouldn’t, I swear I wouldn’t.” Trixie batted her eyelashes at him. “I never tell tales to Mummy – or to anyone.”
Alfie’s eyebrows vanished under his messy fringe. “All right, Trixie,” he said. “Let’s swap!”
“Mwuh, mwuh, kissy, kissy,” said Trixie, holding out her sandwiches.
“Get off,” said Alfie. But the trade was complete and he darted away across the playground to his favourite place to hide – behind the compost bins in front of the red brick wall. No one ever went there because the bins were smelly and poopy pigeons perched on the wall. But Alfie liked it and had even dragged an old crate in to sit on.
Watched by an interested pigeon, Alfie sat on the crate and unwrapped Trixie’s sandwiches. They were cut into dainty little squares with the crusts cut off, but the cheese smelled good and tasty. Alfie munched them quickly. They were so small he could almost swallow them whole. Then he put his hands on his knees and waited for something to happen. All of a sudden, beads of sweat sprang up on his brow, more and more of them popped out, rolling down into his eyes until he could barely see.
“Phew!” said Alfie, wiping his head with the back of his hand. “It’s hot today.” A sudden burp burst out of him, frightening the pigeon which flapped off in a panic of whirling wings. Alfie slumped from the crate into an untidy little heap on the ground.
*
The Captain woke to the sound of raucous shouting. He struggled upright in his hammock, trying to see what was happening.
“Ouf!” he said, tumbling out and almost squashing poor Mr Spinks who was sitting beneath the hammock counting out his walnut shells.
“A ship, Captain! A ship!” It was Merturtle, yelling from her place at the prow of The Merry Mary. Nathan and Portuguese John had fashioned a wooden seat where she could sit, waving her scabby tail, scanning the waves for likely looking ships to raid.
Dusting nutshells from his breeches, the Captain ran to join the rest of the crew who were leaning on the deck-rail, looking seaward.
“There it be!” cried the Captain. “It’s a good big one too. I’ll be bound if thar’s no gold in her hold.” The ship was a fine galleon with a fat, bulging hull rising out of the ocean. Each time she crested a fresh burst of briny froth, the ship’s wooden depths seemed to swell with bounty.