By the time Neville had served dinner to the crew and Canker had licked all the pots and pans clean, it was extremely late.
‘Good job, Blood-gulper,’ Canker rasped, hanging up his apron on a hook by the door. ‘S’pect you’ll be snizzlin’ off to your hammock soon, eh?’
‘I don’t have a hammock,’ Neville said, close to tears with tiredness.
‘Oh …’ said Canker. ‘Oh dear, indeedy.’
‘Where am I going to sleep?’
‘Well, there’s plenty of kitchen cloths in the cupboard by the porthole. Never had any use for ’em myself, so you’re welcome to sleep on ’em,’ Canker said, yawning. ‘If you get hungry in the night, grunch away, m’boy.’
Neville almost laughed. He was starving, but the only thing left over from the meal was the jar of fish-head purée. His appetite for troll-food had suddenly vanished, so Neville closed his eyes and thought of pepperoni pizza.
‘Sleep tightly,’ said Canker as he left him alone in the kitchen. ‘Don’t let the prawks nibble.’
Neville stood in the middle of the room and looked around; he had never felt so lonely. Shaking himself out of it, he headed to the cupboard by the porthole and opened the door. Inside were shelves of cracked plates and chipped mugs and – a-ha! – dishcloths. He pulled out a stack and arranged them into a pile on the floor.
‘Oh well,’ he said to himself, ‘you’re a truccaneer now. You’ll just have to get used to it.’
Neville hunkered down and tried to make himself comfortable. He groaned. The dishcloths were rough and smelled like old food, and the rivets in the floor were sticking up through the pile.
‘Oh, pook!’ Neville whispered to himself. He wondered what Rubella was up to and realized he missed her. Something is seriously wrong when you miss a hulking great bully like her, Neville thought. He clambered back to his feet and headed for the door. He was sure he’d passed a whole row of cabins on his way down to the kitchens earlier that day. Maybe Rubella was in one of them now.
Neville opened the door a crack and peeked out. The hallway was dark and silent. Suddenly the old familiar butterflies returned to his belly.
He tiptoed into the darkness.
