Neville’s stomach heaved as the little boat rolled over the crest of a high wave. Its ancient engine rattled and spluttered, steaming like a kettle.
How had this happened? How was Neville in the middle of a pitch-dark ocean, squished between his mooma and dooda, on the way to visit his grandma Joan in prison? He looked up at the Clunk glowing in the distance and shuddered.
‘Dooda? D’you think Grandma Joan is all right in there?’ Neville asked. ‘I mean … Lady Jaundice. D’you think she’s OK?’
‘Oh, don’t you fuss about ole Jaundice,’ said Clod. ‘She’s tough as a tinker’s toenails. And, anywho, the old gonker deserves everythin’ she gets.’
‘That she does, my lump,’ Malaria joined in. ‘Jaundice was a right pain in the poodley-parts, if you don’t mind me sayin’. Ain’t that right, Pong?’
‘Ooooooorhhh!’ cooed Pong excitedly. He was sitting right on the very bow of the boat like a tiny troll-figurehead. Neville looked at Pong and felt a little bit jealous. Despite adventures that included defeating a slurch and trapping a troll-criminal, Neville was still scared, but Pong seemed to be lapping it up.
‘SQUALLS AHEAD!’ wheezed Old Barnacle from his place at the wheel. His long beard streamed out behind him as they went. ‘HOLD ON!’
‘Right you are, Old Barnacle.’ Clod beamed like an excited troll-sized puppy at feeding time. ‘Oh, Nev, the Clunk is a right spine-jangler of a place. It’ll judder your giblets, it will. I had a chumly that visited once and his toadstools turned grey from so much grunty-groaning.’
Neville’s heart started to race. He felt the way he had on his very first visit to the Underneath, the night that Pong climbed up the toilet and Clod had accidentally snatched him instead.
‘Stop scarin’ him, Clod,’ said Malaria. She elbowed Clod in the ribs. ‘The poor lump looks yelpish.’
Malaria was right. Neville tried to give a little laugh as if to say, Me? Scared? Don’t be silly, but he was. His heart was pounding against his ribs and the hairs on the back of his neck were tingling.
He peered into the gloom and shuddered. Now and again, a solitary buoy would float past with a jam-jar lantern on top and illuminate the swollen purple waves. It made him feel as small and helpless as an ant in the middle of a puddle.
‘Don’t fall in, Nev,’ hissed Rubella. She gave Neville a shove to scare him.
‘I’m not going to,’ Neville said through gritted teeth. He was determined not to look afraid in front of his fat gonk of a sister. ‘And, anyway, I can swim … sort of.’
Rubella’s face spread into a sneer. ‘It ain’t the swimmin’ you need to worry about, you snot. It’s what’s down there.’ She pointed at the water with a sausage finger.
‘Yes, I know,’ Neville snapped, trying not to think about it.
‘Don’t forget, there’s all sorts of nasties lurkin’ about the Undersea,’ she said. ‘Monsters!’ Rubella fished inside the pocket of her filthy dress and pulled out a half-eaten chunk of whatever revolting thing she’d been snacking on. Neville didn’t like this one bit. She had that look in her eye, like the time she’d tried to get him eaten by slurches or the time she’d stolen Herbert’s car and smashed it to pieces.
‘What you up to, Belly?’ Clod asked over her shoulder.
‘Nothin’,’ Rubella replied, sighing cheerfully. ‘Just showin’ Nev the wildlife.’
With that, Rubella tossed the chunk of food into the water and everyone watched it bob away from the boat. Even Pong stopped cooing for a moment and looked.
‘Nothing’s happening,’ said Neville. He wasn’t sure why, but he was whispering.
‘SSSHHHHH!’ hissed Rubella, smacking a grubby hand over Neville’s mouth. ‘Watch.’
Just when it looked like the food-chunk was about to float out of the reach of the lantern light, there was a deafening roar, followed by a massive eruption of water. Suddenly a shrimp the size of a bus emerged from below the surface like something from a horror film. Its mammoth pink jaws were twice as long as the boat and they clashed like boulders smashing together. Neville screamed and toppled backwards into Malaria’s lap.
In an instant the massive thing crashed back into the water, sending a huge wave right over the little boat, filling it with sea creatures and drenching everyone.
‘Ha ha!’ Clod shouted. He poked at the squid that had landed in his lap and laughed. ‘It’s all squidgerous.’
‘How jiggish,’ Malaria beamed, picking a flapping eel from round her feet and tossing it overboard. ‘Do it again, Belly.’
‘NOOOO!’ Neville shrieked. He sat back up with his hair soaked flat over his eyes. ‘What was that thing?’
Malaria shrugged. Just a tiddler. ’Ere, where’s Belly?’
Neville looked round the boat and almost fainted. His sister was gone.
‘Oh, pook,’ said Clod. He leaned over the edge of the boat and looked down into the water. ‘RUBELLA?’
‘BELLY!’ Malaria screamed as she yanked at a starfish that had stuck to her shoulder.
‘She must have been washed over.’ Neville’s heart leapt into his throat. He was just contemplating diving in to search for his stupid sister when –
‘AAAAAAAAAGGHHH!’
The voice came from somewhere above and was muffled, like someone shouting on the inside of a balloon. Neville looked up and gasped. Pong pointed with a huge grin on his face.
‘FOUND HER!’ Old Barnacle laughed. His beard was flapping, alive with little fish.
Neville had seen a lot of strange things in the past, but he’d never seen a troll-girl clinging to the top of a boat’s mast with an octopus suckered to her face.
‘Oh, Belly, you nogginknocker,’ Malaria chuckled.
‘’Ere’s me thinkin’ you’ve gone overboard and all along you just wanted a better view,’ said Clod. ‘I’d ’ave joined you if I’d known.’
‘GEHH IHH OHH!’ Rubella yelled from behind the thing clinging to her head. ‘QUIHH!’
‘Ooopsy,’ Malaria said. She pulled Rubella down from the mast and tugged at the octopus with both her hands. ‘Clingly little pesters, ain’t they?’
‘IHH WANHH TOHH GOHH HOHH!’ Rubella sobbed. ‘AAAAAGGHH!’
‘Hold still, Belly,’ said Malaria. She gave the creature one last enormous yank and it came away with an elastic-sounding SNAP as Pong clapped wildly.
Suddenly free from the octopus’s grip, Rubella launched herself at Neville. ‘THAT WAS YOUR FAULT!’ she blubbed. ‘YOU DUNGLE DROPPING!’
Neville almost forgot his fear and burst out laughing. There were little sucker marks dotted all over Rubella’s face.
‘I want to go home,’ the fat troll-girl snorted.
‘AIN’T NO GOIN’ BACK NOW,’ said Old Barnacle. ‘ONLY FORWARD.’
‘Don’t you tell me what I can and can’t do,’ Rubella snapped.
‘Well, Nev,’ said Clod, laughing, ‘now you’ve seen a real-life Undersea monster.’
‘THAT WEREN’T NO MONSTER,’ Old Barnacle said, lighting up a clay pipe and puffing big smoke rings out over the water. ‘THAT WERE A WEE NIPSTER. JUST A PLUGLET, REALLY. ABSOBLUNKIN’ TEENSY.’
‘A nipster?’ Neville asked. ‘You mean there’re bigger things down there?’ He looked out over the gloom and felt his stomach squelch sickeningly. Rubella burst out crying.
‘YES, INDEEDY,’ said Old Barnacle with a grim expression. ‘MUCH BIGGER AND MUCH HUNGRIER.’ He then yanked a big bottle of dark green liquid out from behind the rudder. ‘WHO’S FOR A SWIGGLE OF FROG GROG?’
