15
Miss Speckles was OK really. It was the first time I’d talked to her properly on her own, but she was fine to share a room with.
‘My brother annoying you, Angelica?’ I said. ‘I can speak to him, if he is.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t annoy me at all.’
‘Not even with the rat-skinning stories? I thought you might be feeling the pressure.’
‘No, really. I don’t mind. In fact, I quite like him.’
So there you are. Just when you think there’s no surprises left in the world, some girl tells you that she likes your brother.
I wondered what he and Alain were talking about across the corridor in their room. Martin was probably putting the squeeze on him to relate a few crossbow-firing stories, or floating-sky-mine stories, or being-press-ganged-into-the-army stories. I just hoped Alain would tell him the truth and frighten any notions out of him of one day being a soldier himself.
‘Beds aren’t very big, are they?’ Angelica said.
I tried mine out.
‘No. Bit short.’
‘Maybe they might change them.’
‘Could mention it.’
‘But then you curl up when you sleep.’
‘You want the shower first, Angelica?’
‘No, you go.’
So I did. Then she did. Then we put on some clean clothes and took the mucky stuff to the laundry area, where we found the others.
‘I’ve still not seen anybody else,’ Martin said. ‘Have you, Alain?’
‘No, no one.’
‘Where are all the owners of the boats?’
‘Sleeping?’
‘But none of the other rooms seem occupied.’
‘Stretching their legs?’
‘Maybe. But all of them? And it’s not that big an island. You’d think we’d see somebody.’
We got our clothes washed and hung them out in the sun. They dried fast, long before the time we’d agreed to eat.
‘I really can smell those burgers now,’ Martin said.
‘You’ve been smelling burgers since you were born,’ I told him.
‘That and your far—’
But Peggy managed to stop him.
‘That’s enough, Martin. Thank you very much.’
‘I’m going exploring,’ Martin said. ‘You coming, Angelica?’
He would have asked me once. But I was happy to stay with the grown-ups.
‘OK.’
Off they went together.
‘Don’t be late for dinner.’
Peggy said she was going to rest. I walked on with Alain round the coast. We all went rolling and waddling. We’d been sailing too long and hadn’t got the knack of the land again yet. We ran into Mrs Procrustes, who was there on the headland, throwing garbage into the sky.
‘It all falls into the sun,’ she said. ‘So it’s not littering.’
But half of it wasn’t heavy enough and just floated away on the thermals.
I thought I’d mention the beds.
‘Is it possible to get a longer bed, please, maybe?’ I said, politely as I could. ‘Mine’s a bit short.’
‘The ones in our room are the same,’ Alain said.
Mrs Procrustes looked at us, as if sizing us up.
‘Beds too short?’
‘A bit.’
‘Legs hanging over the end?’
‘A little.’
Then a big smile opened up her, so far, rather sullen face.
‘Not a problem. I’ll get Mr Procrustes to step round after supper, and he’ll be only too happy to sort that matter out for you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Just need to have a bed more your size, huh?’
‘If possible.’
‘Or, I guess, if you were a little shorter, that might help as well – huh? Like if you stopped at the ankles or something?’
And she patted us both on the shoulder and we made an effort to join in the joke and laugh along with her. But I didn’t think it was that funny.
‘Weird woman,’ I said, when we were out of earshot. Alain nodded.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But most Islanders are weird – to a Cloud Hunter.’
‘But is that what you still are?’ I said.
‘Always,’ he said. ‘Forever.’
I felt he might have said something more, or even done something more, as we were alone together for the very first time and there was nobody else around –
‘Gemma! Gemma! Gemma! Gemma! Gemma!’
Yeah. Exactly. Always there to spoil my treasured moment. Mr Bigmouth running for all he was worth (which wasn’t a great deal) across the escarpment, followed by Miss Speckles, who was shouting, ‘Alain! Alain! Alain!’
They didn’t so much stop as collide.
‘Gemma. Gemma. Got to get Peggy. Got to get out. Get Peggy. Get our things. Get out. Now. Right now. Now!’
‘OK, hold on. Where’s the emergency? Just slow it down.’
‘We’ve got to get out. Now!’
‘Martin, we haven’t eaten yet,’ Alain said.
‘And I thought you wanted a burger.’
‘No!’ Martin yelled. It was nearly a scream and I had to clamp my hand over his mouth. He bit it.
‘Ow!’
‘No, Alain … Gemma – Angelica and me – we saw inside the freezer.’
‘What were you doing nosing about?’
‘We were round the back and the kitchen door was open and there was no one there, so we went in, and I wanted to see what was in the freezer.’
‘So?’
‘So Angelica kept watch by the door and I opened the freezer.’
‘And?’
‘You know we thought it was funny that all those boats were tied up, but there’s no one around –’
‘What about it?’
Martin moved his mouth but no sound came out. He looked appealingly at Angelica to speak for him. It came out straight and level and somehow flat.
‘They’re all in the freezer,’ she said.
I said the most ridiculous thing. It just came into my head.
‘But aren’t they cold?’
And then I realised what an absurd remark that was.
‘They’re not cold, Gemma,’ Angelica said. ‘That is – they are cold – but they’re not feeling it.’
‘And you know we were talking earlier about the beds being a bit short.’
‘Yes?’
‘I think I know how they fix the problem.’
‘Yeah. Give you a longer bed,’ I said. ‘We just asked her about it.’
‘No, Gemma. They don’t make the bed longer. They make the person sleeping in it shorter.’
‘But that’s impossible,’ I said. (More ridiculous, not-quite-getting-it remarks.) ‘To make someone shorter, you’d need to cut their feet off and –’
And then I saw Angelica’s and Martin’s faces staring at me.
‘They’re all in the freezer,’ Martin said. ‘We counted ten pairs, plus an odd left one on its own. And a shoe.’
I looked at Alain.
‘And I left my crossbow in the room,’ he said. ‘Come on. Let’s get Peggy.’
He ran. And we followed. We didn’t stop until we were banging on the door of Peggy’s room and telling her to open up. Alain dashed to his room to get the crossbow.
‘Can’t a one-hundred-and-twenty-year-old get five minutes’ sleep?’
‘Peggy, open the door.’
She did. Finally.
‘What’s the problem? And can’t it wait?’
‘Peggy, grab your stuff, put your sandals on, we’ve got to go –’
‘What? We’ve only just –’
‘Peggy!’ Martin was yelling again. ‘There’s people in the freezer! And feet!’
And then there was silence. We all had our backs to the corridor, all except Peggy, who was looking out from her room. She kind of tensed and stiffened.
‘Oh my –’
I looked around.
They were both there. Mrs Procrustes, from reception, and with her an ugly, boiled-face man, who looked as mean as a thousand Scrooges. He had one good eye, and in his right hand he carried a cleaver, and in his left one, a meat hammer. He faced us and said:
‘Who’s complaining about the beds?’
‘Well, as a matter of fact I –’ Martin started. But I got my hand over his mouth.
‘Actually,’ Peggy said, ‘you don’t need to worry about them. We’ve decided to leave early. Everyone – shall we go?’
‘But my toothbrush – I’ve left it in –’
‘I’ll get you a new one, Martin. Everyone – go!’
We headed down the corridor, pushed open the fire exit and ran.
‘What about the laundry?’
‘Grab what you can.’
We snatched what we could off the line on our way past and went on running. Alain and I took one of Peggy’s arms each, to help her keep up. We made it as far as the jetty, our hands full of laundry and belongings, all flying in the wind. The couple of monsters were still coming in pursuit.
‘Go on ahead,’ Peggy said. ‘Untie the boat.’
I did. Alain, to give me cover, stopped and loaded his crossbow, took aim and shot the cleaver right out of the man’s hand. He let out a roar, bent to retrieve it, and started after us again. Mrs Procrustes meantime was coming down the jetty and over the pontoons like an unstoppable tank. And that was what did for her: she couldn’t stop, and when I tripped her, she just kept going, out into space. I heard the yell, but I didn’t hear the landing or the sizzle – but then, it is a very long way down. And it’s not everyone who has the knack of sky-swimming. Some people never really learn.
‘Come on. Get on board!’
The ship was untied and the solars were open and the other three were already on. We jumped across a gap of space and made it. Behind us the cleaver kept on coming, with Mr Procrustes firmly attached to it.
‘You’ll pay for this! You’ll pay for this!’
‘We already have,’ Peggy reminded him. ‘Twenty-four International Currency Units. And I never got my night’s sleep.’
In a fit of rage – or maybe it was pique – he hurled the cleaver. It spun through the air and landed with a vibrating thud in the deck.
Alain pulled it out.
‘Might come in handy for something,’ he said.
‘I’d prefer not to keep it on board, Alain, if you wouldn’t mind. Considering what it’s been used for,’ Peggy said.
‘Oh. Yes. Take your point.’
I thought Alain was about to drop it over the side. But he didn’t. He just threw it back with all his might, towards the man who had hurled it at us.
I don’t think Alain meant for it to happen. It was just an unfortunate thing. Because the cleaver could have landed anywhere. But it landed where it did. And it was hard to feel any sympathy for the man lying back there on the pontoon.
‘Martin, Angelica – don’t look,’ Peggy said.
Only, they already had.
‘I don’t think that was a very good motel,’ Martin said as we got under way.
I was about to give him a major ticking-off for that – and then I saw from his face that he was being perfectly genuine. It wasn’t sarcastic, it wasn’t knowing, it wasn’t even an attempt at a joke. He was completely serious. He did not think it was a good motel.
‘I’m not staying at one again,’ he said, ‘if they’re all like that. What about you, Angelica?’
Sometimes I’m just grateful I’m not Martin’s age any more. But I’m positive I was never that bad. Surely not. I couldn’t have been. Or maybe I was. One day I’ll have to ask Peggy. Or, then again, maybe I won’t.