Davina Dupree Puzzles a Pirate (2 page)

‘Yes alright,’ Mrs Pumpernickle said, pushing her way through the throng of first year girls. ‘For goodness sake calm down Cleo, they’re nowhere near us at the moment, and throwing yourself on the floor screaming, “We’re all going to die” isn’t going to help anyone, is it? For all we know, those pirates might just be having a nice sail in the winter sunshine or be feeling a bit peckish and trying to catch some fish. They might not have noticed our boat at all. Now get up and brush your uniform down, there’s a good girl.’ She bustled off to find Mr Snap.

‘Don’t panic, first years,’ Mrs Fairchild sang, tip toeing her way through the crowd and picking up her IPod. ‘Now be good sorts and try to understand that pirates are people too and we mustn’t presume they’re all bad, just because we’ve heard scary stories about them.’

‘My dad says they make people walk the plank,’ Cleo shrieked from the carpet.

‘Only the ones they don’t like, dear,’ Mrs Fairchild smiled. ‘Now I’m going to leave you in the capable hands of Mr Fossil while I pop along and have a word with Mr Snap. Mr Fossil? MR FOSSIL? Can you HEAR ME?’

As Mr Fossil was still hunched over staring at a page in his book, I decided to help Mrs Fairchild out, going over to tap his shoulder. He jumped.

‘Hmm?’ He said, looking up, his thin nose sniffing the air like a rabbit’s.

‘Oh goody, you’ve rejoined us at last, you funny man,’ Mrs Fairchild giggled. ‘I was just saying that I’m leaving the first years in your capable hands for a few minutes.’ She sashayed out of the mess room door. Mr Fossil’s eyes widened as he looked at us as though he’d never seen us before in his life.

‘But there’s so many of you,’ he whispered. Then he shook his head and stood up, closing his book with a bang. He cleared his throat.

‘Right, as most of you are by the portholes already, let’s take this opportunity to discuss some sea life,’ he licked his lips nervously, striding over to the portholes, with me following. ‘Spread out across the portholes girls, make sure everyone has a good view.’

Arabella and I found ourselves sharing a porthole with Lottie, Erica and one of the twins, Moira.

‘Yes!’ Mr Fossil peered out then punched the air and started to quiver. ‘Look girls, look. Can you see that bird circling above the sea? That’s a very rare seagull known as the Lesser Feathered Gull. Do you see how it only has feathers on its wings and not on its body?’

‘Gross,’ Clarice called from further down the wall.

‘Is that the rarest bird there is, Mr Fossil?’ Arabella asked.

‘No, the rarest bird I know of is the Kapatoo,’ Mr Fossil sniffed excitedly, warming to his subject. ‘Some even believe it to be extinct. The last sighting of it was actually on Ni Island where we’ll be camping, so we’ll all have to keep a special look out for it as you just never know, we may be lucky enough to spot one. Actually, it’s been my life’s ambition to find one.’ His eyes misted over. ‘It would be so utterly exciting.’

‘Well, if we’re going to keep a look out for Kapatoos we need to know what they look like?’ I said.

‘Yes quite, Davina,’ Mr Fossil said. ‘Now let me see, they’re rather plump birds-‘

‘Bit like Davina then,’ Clarice interrupted, smiling maliciously and high fiving Cleo. Arabella gave her a death stare and clenched her fists. I stared down at myself, feeling very annoyed. For goodness sake, I knew I wasn’t a stick insect but I thought I looked pretty normal and Carrie always said it was much better to have a healthy appetite than to be all dreary and picky about food.

‘Er,’ Mr Fossil said, not understanding. ‘Yes, anyway as I was saying, the Kapatoo is a well-covered, short bird of roundish appearance that stands about a foot high from the ground. It has extremely large, scaly feet and it has been said that they walk like clowns in a circus, flapping their big feet out in front of them. It’s face resembles an owl’s, with green and blue feathers fanning out around dark eyes, and it’s body is like a large chicken’s, and is covered in green, blue and violet feathers. One peculiar fact to note about Kapatoo’s is that they can’t fly more than a few feet above the ground, possibly due to the size and weight of their feet.’

‘They sound ridiculous,’ Cleo snorted, earning herself a hurt look from Mr Fossil.

‘They sound sweet,’ I said loudly, meaning it. ‘I hope we all get to see one on Ni Island, Mr Fossil.’

‘Suck up,’ Clarice hissed.

‘Idiot,’ Arabella spat back.

‘All still here are you, my favourites?’ Mrs Fairchild trilled as she danced back into the mess room. ‘I’ve spoken to Mr Snap about our teeny weeny pirate issue and he says that while there
are
a few retired pirates that still roam the seas, they’re nothing to worry about as most of them play online bingo all day. Officers from the Police Department of the Seven Seas arrested all the naughty pirates several years ago.’ Well that’s a relief!

I have to go now diary as Mr Fossil’s given us each a project folder and we have to spend the next hour looking out of our cabin portholes and drawing any sea or bird creatures we can see.

Thursday, 8
^th
January

Sandy times, Diary.

I have to say, this school trip is such fun!

We spotted Ni Island on the horizon yesterday afternoon, just as the sun was setting. Arabella and I had already filled in quite a few pages of our project folders with drawings of three dolphins, a small whale, another Lesser Feathered Gull, some normal seagulls and five jumping fish. A golden shape on the horizon started to become more distinct and as we sailed towards it, it became clear that it was a sand island, full of exotic trees.

Mrs Pumpernickle came round after dinner to say that the pirate ship was no longer in view, but that Ni Island was and that we would be arriving and mooring the boat first thing in the morning so we should get an early night, which we did. I’d got used to the rocking of the yacht by then so didn’t sleep with a sick bag under my pillow unlike last night, and we both fell asleep pretty much immediately.

This morning, after a scrummy breakfast of smoked salmon and creamed cheese bagels with cherry juice to drink, Mr Snap stood up to talk to us about the day. He usually tries to smile, even though as Arabella says - his eyes don’t - but this morning he didn’t bother, just yelled at us in a moody way. I heard Mrs Fairchild remark to Mrs Pumpernickle that it was
such
a pity the Duke of Westchester couldn’t be with us as he had
real
a gift for public speaking.

Mr Snap said we had to be all packed and ready to go within half an hour, no time wasters please. He said he’d ferry us all across to Ni Island in different groups, where we’d find luxury tents waiting for us. After his speech Mrs Fairchild stood up to thank him for all his help and said she was sure he’d be off home after that, and that she wouldn’t want to detain him on Ni Island for any longer than necessary and that perhaps he would be good enough to pick us all up again in ten days time. Mr Snap literally snapped back that on the contrary, he’d be happy to stay on the island in order to be of any assistance to us and that he’d already come across the week before to set the tents up, setting up a smaller less luxurious one for himself. Mrs Fairchild’s shoulders sagged. I don’t think she likes him.

Anyway, after being ferried across to Ni Island by Moody Mr Snap, we set off in a large group through undergrowth, with Mrs Fairchild leading the way. Honestly, there are plants and bushes I’ve never seen before on this island, with such tiny leaves and dainty, colourful flowers. Mr Fossil hasn’t stopped smiling in a dreamy way since we got here.

Soon, after climbing over a series of high sand dunes which made my legs ache, we saw a sandy clearing that gently sloped down to the most beautiful beach ever. The clearing was full of gold and red tents that looked like beautiful works of art. They’d been pitched right at the top of the beach, much higher than the still wet high tide mark so we knew our belongings would never be in danger of being washed away.

Me and Arabella decided to explore our tent AT ONCE. It’s seriously massive, about the size of a small bungalow. The embroidered red and gold material that covers the outside is quite tough compared to the soft creamy gauze that lines the inside walls. The ‘front door’ is made up from two curtains that can be pulled aside and inside there are three sections – a living area, a washroom complete with shower and toilet (can you believe it!) and a bedroom with two hammocks (complete with duvets and pillows) suspended from the top of the tent. Utterly
amazing.com
. Mrs Fairchild said that her friend, the Duke of Westchester, had electricity specially installed on Ni Island, which he owns, as he likes to come camping here himself in the summer months. What a nice chap.

I have to go now as Mrs Pumpernickle is organising a barbeque on the beach for lunch and by the smell of it, it’s nearly ready. Mmmm....

Friday, 9
^th
January

Morning Diary.

Arabella and I have woken up to a blustery, sunny, salty smelling, FREEZING morning here on Ni Island. I’m currently wearing two layers of school uniform, two pairs of silver tights, pale pink leg warmers, white padded boots and my faux fur coat. Talk about frosty
nose.com
.

All of us first years have unpacked and made ourselves at home, I know this for a fact because me and Arabella have been visiting all our friends’ tents to see if they’re the same as ours. To be honest, each tent is a bit different. Like Lottie and Erica’s tent is laid out differently to ours inside, their bedroom is off to the right not the left like ours, and their hammocks and duvets are deep green where as ours are midnight blue. Lottie and Erica have made their tent look almost like their dorm at school, by bringing their portable television and DVD player, laptops, and of course their new waterproof mobile phones. I can’t think when they’re going to have time to use all that stuff in between our nature studies! At least they’re not as silly as Cleo and Clarice, who seem to have brought their entire jewellery collections with them and insist on walking round the beach dripping with pearls and diamonds.
Show-offs.com
.

After a scrummy breakfast of fried eggs, bacon and sausages cooked by Moody Mr Snap on his enormous portable cooker, Mr Fossil sat us all down in a circle on the flattest, sandiest part of the beach. He was practically dribbling with excitement as he explained our ten day projects to us. Well, nine day really now as yesterday was the first day. He said our task was to roam the island freely in groups of two or more, spotting as many rare plant and animal species as we could and then drawing them in our project folders, looking at the species guide stuck inside the folder’s front cover to see what each plant or animal was called. I really like doing project work like this, I don’t know why but I just love new folders and pens and things. Arabella thinks it’s all a bit dull, she says she’d rather be working out advanced maths problems.
Weirdo.com
.

‘What about that silly bird you were telling us about yesterday, Mr Fossil?’ Cleo sniggered, nudging Clarice, as Mr Fossil walked round handing out pencils.

Mr Fossil lowered his fluffy eyebrows at Cleo.

‘If you are referring to the
rare
and not at all
silly
bird, the Kapatoo, then yes Cleo, it would be beyond exciting if anybody spotted one. I myself will be on constant look out for a Kapatoo as it is well known among the bird loving community that the last sighting of one was here on this very island, about ten years ago. If anyone sees one, please come and get me at
once,
and there will be a prize for anyone who successfully spots a Kapatoo and brings me to see it.’

‘What will the prize be, Mr Fossil?’ Clarice flicked open her portable hairbrush as she spoke and brushed her long, blonde hair.

‘Erm...a surprise,’ Mr Fossil twitched his rabbity nose. ‘But unfortunately I’m not seriously expecting anyone to spot a Kapatoo. Mrs Fairchild and I have been accompanying school trips to the Island of Ni for many years now and no one has ever seen one, not even me.’ A deep sigh whooshed through his skinny body.

Arabella, who’d been drawing maths equations in the sand throughout this conversation and was getting rather restless, said,

‘Righto Mr Fossil, we’ll keep our ears and eyes open for a blue, plump, chickeny, owly type of bird. Now please can we go and explore?’

‘Yes, off you go,’ Mr Fossil twitched. ‘This island is very safe and I’m pretty sure there’s no danger you can get into but Mrs Fairchild wants you to remain in pairs or more, so please respect her wishes. See you all back here in an hour or so. Mrs Pumpernickle’s gone fishing and is hoping to make you all her delicious fish stew for lunch.’

So see you later, Diary, I’ve got Kapatoo hunting to do!

Saturday, 10
^th
January

A robbery, Diary?

Good gracious me, Diary, it looks as though another mystery may be beginning. This morning, just as Arabella and I sat down to eat our poached eggs on toast cooked by Moody Mr Snap, Cleo came screaming out of her tent.

‘I’ve been robbed, Mrs Fairchild,’ she bawled, running like a toddler across the sand towards a table near ours where Mrs Fairchild and Mrs Pumpernickle were calmly drinking their morning cappuccinos, throwing herself down, her nose running unattractively down her face. ‘Do something, help me, PLEASE!’

‘Sorry dear, are you trying to tell me something of yours has gone missing?’ Mrs Fairchild spooned chocolate sprinkled froth into her mouth as she spoke. ‘Do stand up Cleo, there’s a good sort.’

‘My diamond necklace and my platinum, ruby encrusted tiara have both been STOLEN,’ Cleo wailed, ignoring Mrs Fairchild’s wish that she stand up. ‘I KNOW they’ve been stolen because I remember EXACTLY where I put them before I went to bed, which was in my gold jewellery box by the door of our bedroom, and when I woke up they were GONE.’

‘What a silly thing to do, bringing jewellery on a camping trip,’ Mrs Pumpernickle snorted. Cleo sobbed louder.

‘Well,’ Mrs Fairchild sighed, before taking a large slurp of her coffee. ‘Hopefully you misremembered where you put the necklace and tiara and they’ll turn up when we search your tent, my dear. I would so
hate
to think anyone on this island would commit such an act.’