10

Big Wigs

Steve burst into the Captain’s cabin. There, exactly where Steve had left him, sat Wolfie, playing a wonderful tune on the keyboard. Steve gasped, almost in horror. Something was wrong. Wolfie was so engaged in the music he didn’t hear Steve open the door. When Steve drew in his breath in shock Wolfie span round, reaching for his wig. He tried to hide his long, flowing red hair.

Steve stared at Wolfie.

‘Errr,’ he said.

Wolfie found the wig, tucked his hair under it and put it on his head.

‘Hi, Steve,’ said Wolfie, trying to pretend that everything was the same.

‘You’re a girl,’ said Steve.

Wolfie smiled nervously.

‘So?’ she said.

Wolfie took the wig off.

Steve looked at Wolfie. Without the wig on, Steve could see that Wolfie was definitely a girl. She was older than him, maybe a bit older than Miffany. In fact, without the wig on, Wolfie looked very similar to Steve’s sister Miffany.

Wolfie sighed and rested her elbows on the keyboard. A discordant sound roared from the harpsichord.

‘That’s it,’ sighed Wolfie, ‘we’re done for. You’d better hand me over now.’

‘What d’you mean?’ asked Steve.

‘Impersonating a boy is a punishable offence,’ said Wolfie, ‘I could be put in prison.’

‘Why?’ asked Steve.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Wolfie. ‘Why could I be sent to prison, or why am I impersonating a boy?’

‘Both,’ said Steve.

‘Because I want to be a composer,’ said Wolfie, ‘and all the best composers are men. In fact, they don’t allow women to be composers. They say that music has a strange effect on women and it turns them crazy.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ said Steve.

Then he remembered Mrs Gestetner his piano teacher. He thought about her death-ray eyes.

‘Well,’ he added, ‘it’s ridiculous in most cases. Girls are just as good at being composers as boys.’

Steve thought about his sisters. He remembered how they’d won the Pendown’s Got Talent competition.

‘Actually,’ he said, ‘in my experience, they’re better.’

‘Well, that makes you a very unusual boy,’ said Wolfie. ‘There’s no way Liam’s going to win the competition if they find out the music was written by a girl. And anyway, it’s hopeless. We’re going to need an orchestra — a string quartet at the very least.’

Steve tapped the top of the harpsichord with his conductor’s baton.

‘Play it, Wolfie,’ said Steve. ‘Let me hear the tune.’

Wolfie rested her fingers on the harpsichord, then began to play. Now that she had an instrument that was in tune the music sounded wonderful.

When she finished Steve knew what to do.

‘Put your wig back on,’ said Steve. ‘We’re going to find ourselves an orchestra.’

Wolfie shoved her hair back under her wig. She put her old black coat on.

‘And another thing,’ said Steve. ‘If we’re going to win this competition we need to look the part. Look in the corner.’

Steve pointed at a coat stand. On it hung the Captain’s most piratical jackets: a red one with sequins, a blue one with gold embroidery.

Steve took the red one. Wolfie put the blue one on.

‘Now,’ said Steve, ‘can you take me to a tavern called The Cutlass and Snarl. The Captain says it’s the place to go to find his old crew and our musicians.’

A look of fear crossed Wolfie’s face – her lip twitched.

‘The Cutlass and Snarl?’ she whispered.

‘Yes,’ said Steve. ‘Is it far? We haven’t got much time.’

‘The problem with the Cutlass and Snarl,’ said Wolfie, ‘is this. It’s full of murderers, pirates and thieves.’

‘Good,’ said Steve.