TWELVE WEEKS AGO, a storm had taken Jack’s boat. The same storm that had brought Alex to the island. The boat never came back – and Jack hadn’t yet built a new one.
He’d have to take the seaplane, just like Alex and Nim. With a bit of luck, by the time it got here he’d know where he was going.
Jack ran, slid and skidded, all the way down Fire Mountain back to the hut. He turned on the computer and checked his emails just in case there was one from Alex, and when there wasn’t, he wrote one to her.
From: jack.rusoe@explorer.net
To: aka@incognito.net
Date: Friday 2 July, 7:03am
Subject: WHERE ARE YOU?
Dear Alex
Why did you go? Where have you gone?
Why did you take Nim without telling me?
Please give her this message:
Stay with Alex; I’m coming.
Love, Jack
Then, to make sure Nim knew he meant it, he added,
(as much as Selkie loves the ocean)
Next he wrote:
From: jack.rusoe@explorer.net
To: delia.defoe@papyruspublishing.com
Date: Friday 2 July, 7:05am
Subject: Alex Rover
Dear Delia
Alex has disappeared. She’s taken Nim. Do you know where she’s gone?
Yours truly,
Jack Rusoe
Finally he wrote:
From: jack.rusoe@explorer.net
To: seaplane@sunshineisland.com
Date: Friday 2 July, 7:08am
Subject: EMERGENCY!
Please return to the island where you brought supplies this morning. I need to leave immediately.
Urgently
Jack Rusoe
The computer dinged before he’d even had time to stand up.
From: delia.defoe@papyruspublishing.com
To: jack.rusoe@explorer.net
Date: Friday 2 July, 7:09am
Subject: Re: Alex Rover
Thank you for your email. I’m presently out of the office due to the preparations for the launch of Alex Rover’s exciting new book on July 7. I can assure you, it will be worth the wait!
As you can appreciate, there is a large backlog of emails at this time; however, I will endeavour to reply within ten to fifteen working days.
Regards,
Delia Defoe
‘Ten to fifteen working days!’ Jack shouted. ‘I can’t wait that long!’
The computer dinged again.
From: seaplane@sunshineisland.com
To: jack.rusoe@explorer.net
Date: Friday 2 July, 7:10am
Subject: I’m on vacation!
I am going on holidays, so Sunshine Island Seaplane will be closed from Thursday evening, 1st July to Monday 30th August. I hope this doesn’t cause any inconvenience.
This is an automated reply. This mailbox will not be checked until Monday 30th August.
Happy travelling!
Sam
Sunshine Island Seaplane
‘How am I going to travel?’ Jack shouted.
‘And,’ he added, as he typed ‘Troppo Tourists’ into the search box, ‘I’M NOT HAPPY!’
Jack thought their island was the most beautiful island in the whole world, with birds and animals who were free and happy. He had tried to hide it from the Troppo Tourists because he knew that if they came they’d drive away the birds and animals, and pick the plants, and then it wouldn’t be the most beautiful island in the world any more.
But here’s the thing – Jack loved Nim more than he hated the Troppos. And since they’d once brought Alex nearly all the way from Sunshine Island, maybe they could take him back.
‘GOODBYE ADVENTURE CHARTERS! HELLO LUXURY CRUISES! BIGGER AND BETTER IN EVERY WAY!
The Troppo Tourists have said farewell to the charter ship that took you on so many adventurous tours. Why plan a trip yourself when we can do it all for you? Remember: if it’s worth seeing, The Troppo Tourist can take you there!
So come and join us on our glorious new luxury cruise ship! Click here for schedules.’
JACK DIDN’T BOTHER reading any more. He switched off the computer.
‘Luxury cruises!’ he muttered, as he pulled the sleeping mats away from a wall.
The wall was built of strong bamboo poles, firmly laced together. It was the only one without a door or window. Jack grabbed the axe from behind the hut.
‘Here’s to happy travelling!’ he shouted, as he chopped a raft-sized square out of the wall. He nailed a blanket across the hole, to keep out the dust and birds, and dropped an empty bag over the computer and science stuff. ‘That’ll have to do!’ declared Jack.
With a thick rope, he hauled his raft across the sand to Shell Beach. He was hot, tired and thirsty when he finished, but he only stopped long enough to split a coconut and drink its milk. It was strange not to have Fred begging for the coconut meat …
Fred might be on a plane! Jack thought, and he almost smiled as he raced up the hill to Tabletop Garden.
Jack found two strong, slim lengths of bamboo just the right size for a mast and a cross bar, chopped them down and raced back to the beach. He lashed the cross bar to the mast, cut a neat hole out of the centre of his raft and then. with wires and rope and bits of bamboo, fixed the mast in place.
‘At least the sail will be easy,’ said Jack. He pulled out a bag he’d unloaded from the seaplane just the day before. In it was a sail for the boat he’d planned to build. It was a perfect, clean white sail, light and strong enough to catch any wind – but it was too tall and too wide for his little make-shift raft.
Jack had never had a brand-new sail before.
He took out his fat red pocketknife, cut a big square from the sail, and rigged it to the mast.
Jack looked out at the wide empty sea and his small-sailed raft. It didn’t look very big or very strong.
He stuffed six coconuts, a change of pants and shirt, and his toothbrush into the sail bag, dropped his compass into one pocket and his notebook and pen in another, and grabbed two fishing lines, two big containers of water and some bananas.
Finally, he opened a metal box. It hadn’t been opened for a long, long time, but his wallet and passport were still there, clean and dry. Jack dropped them into his extra-safe pocket – the one with a loop and a string to tie it shut – and walked out of the hut.
‘DO YOU KNOW Alex Rover?’ Nim asked Erin, when Ben had gone to buy an ice-cream, because some things are easier to say to one person than two.
‘Alex Rover the famous writer?’
‘She’s my friend,’ said Nim. ‘And my dad’s friend. But I was mean to her, and mean to my dad, and now she’s gone.’
‘Everybody’s mean sometimes,’ said Erin, though Nim knew Erin could never be as mean as she had been.
‘My dad will be worrying that she’ll never come back,’ said Nim, ‘and he might be worried about me, too. Or … he might be glad I’m gone.’
‘He won’t be glad you’re gone,’ said Erin.
‘I wish I could tell him where I am,’ said Nim.
‘You could email him from the computer room.’
‘Parents have to log their kids in,’ said Ben, handing them each an ice-cream cone.
‘Write down the message and the address,’ said Erin, ‘and I’ll send it.’
‘Thanks,’ said Nim. ‘Whew! I never knew ice-cream was so cold!
From: erin@kidmail.com
To: jack.rusoe@explorer.net
Date: Friday 2 July, 11:05am
Subject: Don’t worry!
Dear Jack
My friend Erin is sending this because I can’t go to the Computer Room unless you sign me in.
I hope you got my message in a bottle. I’m on the Troppo Tourist ship heading towards New York.
We have a plan but I don’t want to write it down in case someone sees the note when Erin is writing it.
I cleaned out the birdcages this morning and four flaming orange doves had our island’s bands on their legs. I didn’t know people were allowed to catch animals just because they’re intelligent, unique or interesting. The Professor says that’s the best way to keep them safe. I don’t understand but he doesn’t like people asking questions.
Also I don’t think he really like animals.
I’m very very sorry I was mean to Alex and I know I was mean to you sometimes when you were talking to Alex. I wish I hadn’t been.
Love (as much as Fred loves Selkie)
Nim
She wrote one to Alex too, but in the end she couldn’t bear Erin to read it, so she crumpled it up and put it back in her pocket.
‘IT’S PIZZA NIGHT in the Kids’ Klub,’ Ben said, while Erin was emailing, ‘so we can all have dinner there.’
‘What’s pizza like?’ asked Nim.
Ben explained. ‘But you can’t ask anyone but us stuff like that! They’ll guess … ’
‘They’ll guess I’m a stowaway?’
‘They’ll probably just think you’re weird,’ said Ben, ‘and that’ll make them notice you. Even more than Fred.’
So when Erin came back they found a spot behind a big white chest labelled LIFE JACKETS, up near the bow where it was too windy for most people to sit, and Nim got lessons on how to look as if she belonged to parents on a cruise ship.
It was sort of like schoolwork with Jack, except that instead of learning about what turtles ate and how plankton grew, she was learning about what kids ate and what they said; what they did and what they had.
‘There’s so much stuff!’ Nim groaned. ‘And so much to learn! How am I going to remember it all?’
‘Stick with us,’ said Erin. ‘Just do what we do.’
As Ben looked at his watch, Nim looked up at the sun. ‘But first,’ she said, ‘it’s time for Fred and me to visit Selkie.’
