I have to move fast.
‘It’s OK,’ I say to Bibi, who’s getting hysterical. ‘We can radio the other boat and get them to turn back.’
She calms down a bit.
I look for a smuggler to help us.
I can’t see any. They must be in that hut at the front of the boat, doing pre-departure checks on the radar and the steering wheel and the radio.
I grab Bibi and we start heading towards the front of the boat, jumping and weaving through the people sitting on the deck. Until someone blocks our way.
The sailor in yellow overalls.
He’s not grinning.
‘Please,’ I beg. ‘We’re on the wrong boat. I need to tell the captain. Once we get onto that other boat you’ll never have to see us again.’
Either the sailor doesn’t understand or he doesn’t care because all he does is spit onto the deck, almost hitting a woman and her baby.
Bibi goes ballistic.
‘You slime out of a lizard’s bottom,’ she yells. ‘People like you shouldn’t be allowed to work on boats. You’re not even fit to work on buses.’
The sailor is starting to look as though he does understand. His eyes narrow and he takes a step towards us.
People scramble out of his way. I can see from their faces they’re concerned for us, but they’re frightened as well. I don’t blame them. When you’ve been bullied for years by a really mean government, you don’t take risks.
Well, most people don’t.
Bibi grabs a rolled-up umbrella from a startled passenger and swings it at the sailor’s head.
‘Donkey wart,’ she yells.
I block the umbrella with my arm. It hurts, but I manage to grab Bibi and restrain her. I don’t think I’m going to be able to restrain the sailor though. He’s coming for us. And we can’t get away. We’re hemmed in by people.
‘Stop that.’
An angry voice shouts from the front of the boat. A smuggler, a big man with hairy arms, is striding towards us.
‘Get to work,’ the smuggler yells at the sailor. ‘Prepare for departure and stand by to cast off.’
The sailor complains bitterly in another language, pointing at Bibi and waving his hands. I hang onto Bibi tight. The smuggler shouts at the sailor in his own language. The sailor scowls and stamps away.
‘You should fire him,’ says Bibi to the smuggler.
‘Be quiet,’ snaps the smuggler.
I put my hand over Bibi’s mouth and try to look polite.
‘Our family are on the other boat,’ I say to the smuggler. ‘Please, you have to send them a radio message and get them to turn back. If you can’t see where they are they’ll be on your radar.’
‘We haven’t got radar,’ says the smuggler. ‘Or a radio.’
I stare at him. No radar? No radio? What sort of boat is this?
Panic surges through me.
‘We have to chase them,’ I shout.
‘Sit down,’ roars the smuggler. ‘Be quiet or I’ll throw you both off the boat myself.’
Several landmines go off inside me. I can feel Bibi struggling to get her mouth free. But I take a very deep breath and pull Bibi down onto the deck.
The smuggler gives us a hard look and walks away.
Bibi’s eyes are bulging with fury. I hold her tight and try to blink my own tears back.
‘It’s no good,’ I say to her. ‘If we make them angry, we won’t get to Australia and we’ll never see Mum and Dad again. We just have to be patient.’
I stare across the water. I can just see the other boat, tiny and almost out of sight. I turn away.
A desert warrior could swim over there and grab the other boat’s anchor chain in his teeth and swim back dragging the other boat behind him. But I’m not a desert warrior. I’m just a kid trying to keep his family in one piece.
After a few minutes Bibi starts to cry, which relaxes her a bit.
‘I don’t want to be patient,’ she sobs. ‘I want Mum and Dad.’
‘I know,’ I say.
‘So do I,’ says a voice behind us. ‘My parents are on that other boat too.’
I spin round. A wet figure with a mournful face is holding something out to me.
‘I got our ball,’ says the boy from the camp.
I stare at him, guilt flooding through me. I forgot all about him. Someone must have hooked him out of the water too. And he’s got my ball.
‘Thanks,’ I say, shifting over. ‘There’s a space here.’
‘I’m Omar,’ he says, sitting down.
Bibi and I introduce ourselves.
‘We’re being patient,’ says Bibi, wiping her eyes. ‘Because we’ll be in Australia soon and we’ll see our parents there.’
Omar stares gloomily at the desert of water between us and Australia.
‘If we’re lucky,’ he says.