The Pirates! in an Adventure with the Romantics (17 page)

‘Hello, monsters,’ he said.

‘Hello,’ said the monsters.

‘I hope you’re all enjoying the canapés. Now, I’m just going to go round the room and do a roll-call. The Mummy?’

‘Here,’ said Shelley, waving about torn-up bits of newspaper that didn’t look anything like bandages.

‘Generic ghostly presence?’

‘Here,’ said Babbage from under a large sheet.

‘Wolfman?’

‘Graaaa!’ said Byron, who was wearing one of the Captain’s fur coats and a big papier-mâché wolf’s head. Byron was better at making costumes than Shelley or Babbage.

‘Mad Axewoman?’

‘Here,’ said Mary, waving an axe and making her eyes bulge in a mad way.

‘Fu Manchu? Gargantua? Man-Eating Plant? Killer Rat? Slime Creature?’

‘Here,’ chorused various members of the pirate crew.

‘And obviously last but not least there’s me, the Terror From the Deep. So that’s everybody.’ He raised his voice. ‘Yes, everybody. I certainly can’t think of anybody important that we might have left out. Right, so – first order of business. Horror rating. It is proposed that we reduce the horror rating of a dracula to below that of a Giant Maggot. Any objections?’

‘Item forty-six,’ said the Pirate Captain, stifling a yawn. ‘It is further proposed that draculas are only popular with teenage girls because they’re regarded as safe, unthreatening boyfriend material.’

‘Oh, for pity’s sake!’ exclaimed Shelley, throwing off his newspaper bandages with a disgusted shrug. ‘This is quite useless. Look!’

He pointed out of the window, where the sun was starting to set over the mountains. ‘We’ve wasted an entire day! If you’ll excuse me, I’ve had quite enough of this. I think my time would be better spent writing an angry poem about capricious girls.’ And with that he stomped off upstairs. Mary sighed, put down her axe, stopped doing mad bulging eyes and went back to doing regular eyes.

‘I’m sorry, Captain,’ she said. ‘I really don’t know what’s got into him.’

‘Probably belly issues,’ said the Captain. ‘Whenever I’m in a mood it tends to be belly issues.’

‘Shelley does rather have a point,’ said Babbage. ‘For some unfathomable reason this Monster Conference does not appear to be working. Therefore, I think I might also retire for the night, unless anybody has any other suggestions?’

Some of the pirates had other suggestions, but they were mostly serving suggestions for boiled hams, and so not particularly helpful at that point in time. Byron announced that he was going to be moody in the kitchen. The crew, after a brief vote, all decided to go and spend some more time laughing at the portrait of the man who looked like a cabbage. So once again the Pirate Captain found himself alone with Mary. He tried to do his nonchalant voice, but it came out slightly strangulated.

‘So, anyway,’ he said, wiping some of the paint off his face. ‘How’s the novel coming along?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Phoebe and the, uh, half-man, half-seaweed creature.’

‘Oh, well,’ said Mary with a little shrug. ‘I haven’t really had a chance to think about it, what with these terrible goings-on.’

‘No, of course, stupid of me.’ The Captain tried to hide his disappointment by only cursing very quietly to himself. ‘Still, it’s important not to abandon your muse. You know, one odd thing I’ve noticed is that when you reread what you’ve written after a brief interlude, it often strikes you
entirely differently
to how it did before. So you should definitely take another glance at your manuscript as soon as you can.’

Mary nodded. ‘I suppose it might help take my mind off things.’

‘No time like the present,’ said the Captain, hopefully.

‘Yes, Captain, I think I shall return to my room to work on it,’ said Mary, getting to her feet and fixing him with an ambiguous stare. ‘Perhaps you could walk with me? In case of vampires?’

They stopped outside Mary’s room.

‘So, here we are,’ said the Pirate Captain.

‘Yes, Captain, here we are.’

Mary bit her lip. The Captain tugged at his beard ribbons. Wolves howled in the forest outside.

‘Anemones are funny creatures, aren’t they? Like underwater eyebrows.’

‘Anemones?’

‘Sorry, I don’t know why I said that.’

The Captain stared very hard at his boot buckles and tried to think of some conversation that didn’t involve anemones.

‘Perhaps,’ said Mary, ‘you’d like to—’

‘
GHOST!
’ shouted the albino pirate, as he and the pirate in green came tearing up the stairs, arms flailing wildly. They skidded to a halt, panting and wide-eyed.

‘There’s a ghost in the study!’

‘That’s nice,’ said the Captain. ‘Sorry, Mary – you were saying?’

‘A LADY GHOST!’ exclaimed the pirate in green.

‘Yes, well, good for her,’ said the Captain. ‘But Mary here is trying to finish her sentence.’

‘Why are you mouthing “go away”?’ asked the albino pirate.

Down the hall various doors creaked open as the other adventurers poked their heads out.

‘What’s all the noise?’ asked Babbage.

‘What was that about “ghosts”?’ asked Shelley.

‘Did someone say “lady”?’ asked Byron.

Fifteen

Lobster Boy – 24 Inches Long!

Everybody stood in the study looking at exactly no ghosts.

‘There was!’ insisted the pirate in green, upset. ‘A lady ghost
.
³³
She
was
ghastly
white
,
but
in
an
attractive
way
,
and
she
just
walked
straight
through
the
wall
,
like
–
like
. . .
well
,
I
can
’
t
think
what
like
,
because
I
don
’
t
know
anything
apart
from
ghosts
that
can
walk
through
walls
.
I
suppose
a
rhino
could
walk
through
a
wall
,
but
it
wasn
’
t
much
like
a
rhino
.’

‘Also, she was carrying her head under her arm!’ added the albino pirate breathlessly, running in a circle. ‘And she had three legs!’

The Captain glowered.

‘All right, she might not have been carrying her head under her arm and she might have had the regular number of legs,’ said the albino pirate, faltering. ‘But she really was a ghost. Standing right where you are now. I am sixty-five per cent certain it wasn’t my reflection.’

‘Sorry,’ said the Captain, turning to Babbage and the Romantics. ‘Appears to be a false alarm. When the lads get overexcited they have a tendency to start imagining things. I don’t like to tell them off for it because I think a healthy imagination should be encouraged and cultivated, but they do get rather carried away.’

‘Well I for one don’t think we should dismiss such phenomena quite so readily,’ said Shelley, arching an eyebrow and stalking towards the door. ‘And, seeing as we are all now up, if everybody would care to join me in the dining room, I believe I have a plan that might resolve our predicament.’

Once they had all taken a seat, Shelley unfolded a square wooden board, and laid it carefully down on the table in front of him.

‘That’s your plan? We’re going to play some sort of
board game
?’ said the Captain, frankly unimpressed. ‘You think the dracula or his ghostly pal will be so jealous of the thrilling time we’re having for ages-four-and-up that he’ll pop his head round the door and ask to join in? I know you lubbers have lower standards than us seafaring types when it comes to excitement, but even so, seems far-fetched. Still, nothing ventured nothing gained, I suppose. Where are the pieces? I want to be the thimble.’

‘There aren’t any pieces, Pirate Captain,’ said Shelley, glowering.

‘No pieces? Oh, hell’s limpets, I’ve got you – it’s one of those role-playing things. In that case, I take my enchanted axe and lop Percy’s head off. I think it’s your turn next, Mary. Keep an eye out for goblins.’

Shelley groaned. ‘This is not any type of game,’ he explained. ‘It is a Ouija board. A way for us to contact the spirit world.’

‘Sorry, I stopped concentrating,’ said Byron. ‘Caught a glimpse of my cheekbones in that suit of armour. What are we doing again?’

‘Desperate times call for desperate actions,’ said Shelley. He took a heart-shaped piece of wood from his pocket and placed it on the board. ‘Though it pains me to say so, I fear the Captain is correct: obviously some occult forces are at work in this awful place. It is my hope that the spirit world can provide us with some answers, and allow us to uncover the dreadful truth behind Jennifer’s disappearance, not to mention the whereabouts of “On Feelings”.’

‘Oh, what rot,’ said Babbage, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. ‘This is exactly the sort of nonsense I was expecting from you wiffly types.
³⁴
To
think
,
I
could
be
at
home
polishing
gears
and
springs
.’

‘Please sit down, Mister Babbage,’ said Percy, suddenly sounding a bit more commanding than usual. ‘Now – if you would all link hands, I shall attempt to work this device and see if anybody is out there in the spirit aether.’

Everybody linked hands apart from Shelley, who rested his palm on the piece of wood and then half closed his eyes.

‘Woooooooooo!’ said a ghostly voice.

‘Byron, please stop that,’ said Percy.

‘Sorry,’ said Byron.

For a few moments nothing stirred. Then, very slowly, the wooden block under Shelley’s palm started to move.

‘I think it’s working!’ whispered Mary, squeezing the Captain’s hand.

‘Hello?’ said Shelley, addressing the shadows. ‘Is anybody there? Are you trying to tell us something?’

Eventually the wooden block settled on a letter. It was an ‘H’. Then another. E. Then another. L. Then another.

H.E.L.L.

‘Great Scot!’ exclaimed Byron. ‘We’ve contacted the underworld itself! Oh, I hope it’s a succubus. Pretty adventurous girls, those succubi, from what I hear.’

‘No – wait! Look . . . it’s not finished yet,’ said Mary, enthralled. The block moved again.

H.E.L.L.O.

‘Ah, that’s nice,’ said the pirate with a scarf. ‘I’m glad the spirit world has manners.’

‘Who is this?’ asked Percy, his voice trembling.

I.T.S. M.E. J.EN.N.I.F.E.R.

‘Jennifer!’ exclaimed the Captain. ‘Neptune’s knees! So you really are dead? We’re all very sad. Can you tell us what it’s like being a ghost?’

O.K. I. G.U.E.S.S.

‘Have you seen anybody famous?’

I. M.E.T. H.E.N.R.Y. T.H.E. E.I.G.H.T.H.

‘Is he very fat?’

Q.U.I.T.E. F.A.T. Y.E.S.

Percy cut in over the conversation. ‘Jennifer – can you tell us what happened to you?’

M.U.R.D.E.R.E.D!

‘By a dracula?’ asked Byron, holding his breath.

T.H.A.T.S. R.I.G.H.T.