Ghosts on Board (7 page)

The tree really likes Jacob. It won't let him go even with Tilly standing there telling it riddles and laughing at her own jokes.

‘Help! Help!' Jacob shouts, caught struggling in the branches like a huge purple beetle in a spider's web.

I'm so out of breath I can only stand and stare and gulp air.

‘Oh for goodness' sake,' says Tilly. She pokes the tree in the joints between the branches and the trunk. ‘Let go of him,' she orders in her best dog-trainer voice.

The tree squeaks, releases Jacob and rolls its branches over the trunk protectively, as if Tilly had actually tickled it in its armpits.

The moment it does, we rush out of the bell tower, abandoning the flailing tree on the side of the Lilac Lake.

I glance back at the writhing branches dripping purple liquid onto the floor, and shudder. I almost feel sorry for it – and then I remember Vile Lucy and catch up with the others.

‘So how are we going to get home?' I ask as we stumble back in the half-light towards the broken harbour. ‘The boat's not due back for hours. I mean, Tilly, you dragged us here – you must have had a plan.'

We stop in the graveyard next to the harbour.

Tilly flicks her hair over her shoulder. ‘Plan? I thought you had a plan, Tom. You were here to look after me. I assumed you'd thought about it.'

I decide not to answer her. Beside her are what must be Flora Rose and Billy. They're almost visible as a result of the lilac goo. Billy's quite little, wearing a cap, a waistcoat and long shorts like a Victorian chimney boy. I can't really see his features, but Flora Rose is clearer – she's bent over, studying the shiny buckles on Tilly's handbag. I imagine she's looking at herself, and I can see that she isn't all that old, maybe 12 or 162 if I add in the extra 150 years. They're like a pair of black-and-white photos tinted purple, and a touch see-through.

Weird, and a little sad.

‘Maybe there's an airship or something here,' says Tilly. ‘Didn't the Victorians have airships? Tom, you could talk a lot and fill it with hot air.' She smiles sweetly and drains my water bottle.

‘My dear child, there are NO airships here,' says Victor, sighing and standing close to Jacob who is removing large clods of purple jelly from his clothing.

‘This stuff is really sticky,' says Jacob.

‘Come to the sea, dear boy. Let's see if we can wash it off,' says Victor.

I watch them go, wondering if I need to follow. But they can't get off the island – no one can unless we build a boat or wait for the
Trusty Mermaid
– so I let Victor take Jacob out of sight. After all, there's only so much of Jacob that anyone can stand.

‘Let's face it. We're going to have to build a raft,' says Eric.

‘How?' asks Tilly. ‘Don't you need tree trunks and rope and things?'

I pull open the graveyard-shed door, which comes away in my hand. There's a heap of rotting rubbish on one side, a sled, a couple of rusty buckets, a rotting boat and an axe. I pick up the axe and to my surprise the handle feels quite solid.

Underneath that I find a saw. Blunt, but still a saw.

‘Right, if we're going to build a raft, we need loads of wood.'

‘The Fearful Forest?' says Eric. ‘It is trees after all.'

I stand on the edge of the graveyard looking towards the sea. There's more light out there. The centre of the island looks completely black, not at all inviting. That forest is at least ten minutes' walk into the gloom.

‘That forest'll have to go,' I say in a voice that sounds an awful lot more confident than I feel. ‘As you say, they're only trees.' I swing the axe over my shoulder. ‘Anyone coming with me? Anyone going to help?'

‘I'm staying here,' says Tilly, pulling two soggy Woodland Friends from her bag and arranging them on a gravestone. ‘Call me when you've finished.'

‘I'll come,' says Eric, picking up the saw. ‘Jacob?' he calls towards the harbour.

‘Leave him, I say – he's covered in purple stuff.'

‘Flora Rose?' I ask. Two purple blobs emerge from the shadows at the far side of the graveyard. ‘Can you guide us to the Fearful Forest?'

‘If you're sure,' says Flora Rose, sighing. ‘You might want to stuff your ears with something – it gets louder the closer you get. I'll just go and tell the other two what we're doing.'

‘Shall we sing to keep off the creeps?' says Eric, picking up bundles of black moss from the ground and handing me half. I try to turn it into earplugs but it crumbles and falls out, leaving me with gritty ears. Eric marches into the darkness and launches into the Field Craft Troop anthem, ‘We Are Hardly Scared of Anything'.

Our walking slows a touch as unseen things grab at our arms, but I keep pressing forward and we plunge into verse two.

‘What an awful song,' says Flora Rose, appearing at my elbow. ‘I think we should go back to the harbour – have you ever heard of the SS
Devlin
?'

‘Jacob's dad's boat? Why?'

‘I think they've called Jacob's father on the mobile communication machine. He's coming to get them. Him and Victor.'

‘Do you mean – not us? Not the rest of us?'

Both Flora Rose and Billy nod their heads vigorously.

‘I'm struggling to understand this,' says Eric.

I'm about to ask her how she knows when Tilly screams behind us. ‘But you can't do that – you can't just abandon us!'

I turn to listen, staring with horror at Eric's shocked face staring back at me.

‘You beast, Jacob Devlin! I'll get you for that! I'll never forget – Tilly Perks never forgets!'

There's the distant sound of a motorboat.

‘YOU RAT! YOU COMPLETE SEWER RAT! How could you do THIS to ME!' Tilly's voice slides from angry to tears.

‘Oh dear,' says Flora Rose. ‘I think we may be slightly too late.'

‘They've gone!' shouts Tilly, crashing back along the track, ignoring the ghastly sound of screaming trees as my axe bites into the first trunk. ‘Jacob's left us here! It's outrageous!'

‘So is this Victor's work?' asks Eric, pulling on a branch which springs back, thwacking him in the face. ‘Ow!' he protests and rubs his nose.

The purple figure that must be Billy scrapes a YES on a nearby rock.

‘I knew it,' I say.

‘What?' says Tilly.

‘That Victor was trouble. I could see it from the moment we found him.'

‘Well, why didn't you tell me?' says Tilly, flaring her nostrils and doing a passable impression of a hayfevered horse before stopping to wipe something from her shoe.

I ignore her.

‘Well, I'm cross,' says Eric. ‘Really, quite cross.' He shakes his head and his curls flop over his face. ‘I feel let down. Yes, that's it. Betrayed.' He holds his finger up, making a point. ‘Betrayed by both of them. Victor said he could help – and we've just rescued Jacob.' He kicks the ground. ‘Actually, I feel foolish. Taken in. An absolute mug.'

Flora Rose sighs. ‘Victor isn't terribly nice, actually.' She smiles, and the lilac water over her face smiles too. ‘In fact, he's pretty beastly.' She wanders over to a pool of black, brackish water and gazes at her purple reflection.

‘So when you say that – do you mean that we should be worrying about what happens to Jacob?' I ask.

‘Well  … ' She swishes her ghostly skirt back and forth, and pulls an angry face at her reflection. ‘He's clever, he's selfish, and he's greedy. Does that answer your question?'

‘What's he greedy for?' I ask, managing to slice through the first tree trunk after hitting it about a billion times.

‘POWER,' Billy scratches in the sand at our feet.

‘Power?' I say, watching a white balloon-shaped thing rise from the timber and float into the sky.

‘That's one of the spirits,' says Flora Rose. ‘You've actually managed to release one – brilliant. Anyway  … ' She tears herself away from the pool. ‘I think he wants your powers. I know it sounds silly but it's so that he can take over the world. He loves what Jacob can do with the sparks.'

‘Take over the world?' says Tilly, panting to a halt next to Flora Rose. ‘Who wants to take over the world?'

‘Victor,' says Eric, wrinkling his face in pain. ‘Oh dear. We had better do something. We can't just leave Jacob with a power-hungry ghoul. We are supposed to be his friends.'

He doesn't look convinced.

‘Well, you'd better hurry up then, Tom,' says Tilly, sitting down on the felled tree trunk. ‘And if I was you I'd catch him and stick him right back in that purple swamp.'

‘He did leave us here,' I say.

‘We don't need to rush,' says Eric.

‘No,' I say, starting on the next tree trunk. My axe bounces off the wood leaving it untouched. ‘But at this rate it could be days before we manage to build a raft. Look at how long it's taking me.'

Tilly and Eric pitch in, and between us we fell four screaming trees and free four screaming spirits. The whole thing makes me shudder, but once we have the four trunks, they are just like four normal tree trunks. We roll them down to the shore, where it's light.

‘We're going to have to get a move on,' I say. ‘They'll be back at home by now, and who knows what Victor can get Jacob to do for him? He stole Jacob's meteorite by the way.'

‘
Mine
and Jacob's if you don't mind. But our powers only work in Bywater-by-Sea,' says Eric, as if it's only just occurred to him. ‘You can't really do anything special outside the village. That's why we can't use them here. And you have to find a meteorite just after it's fallen to get any power in the first place. I mean, it's all very well, but anything Victor thinks he can do, he can only do in the village. And he can't actually do anything anyway, because he hasn't caught a meteorite.'

I close my eyes, trying to make sense of what Eric just said.

‘Really?' says Flora Rose, trying and failing to stop one of the trunks rolling away.

‘He's right about the meteorites,' I say, lugging the trunk back up the slope. ‘But, Eric, the castle dust is different. It can make strange things happen. I know it's firmly locked up, but sooner or later he's going to work out how to get into that cell, and then what's going to happen?'

‘Is that what made him human?' asks Flora Rose.

‘Yes, almost certainly,' says Eric. ‘And it must have washed off when we all got tipped in the sea. It doesn't work outside Bywater-by-Sea either. But inside the village it can cause huge disruption.'

‘But don't forget,' I say, ‘Victor is a ghost – we have no idea what the dust would do for him. It might work outside the village. It could work anywhere in the world. He might actually be able to do extraordinary things.'

‘Do you think he'd actually harm Jacob?' Eric asks Flora Rose.

A purple Y appears on a blank stone at my feet. Followed by an E and S.

Flora Rose shrugs. ‘I think Billy's right. Victor's capable of anything.'

‘Right,' I say. ‘Let's get this thing finished at full speed – we HAVE to rescue Jacob, whether or not he deserves it. And we have to stop Victor.'

The raft is lumpy. It's not watertight and it turns out that it's impossible to steer.

‘Try pushing again,' says Eric, watching the tiny gap between us and the crumbling jetty get even smaller. ‘I'm sure if we can get out into the open sea it'll be easier to get some forward motion.'

‘It's raining,' says Tilly, helpfully.

‘I know,' I say, ‘and I'm trying as hard as possible but it's just not easy. You could help, you know.'

Tilly suddenly finds something in her bag really interesting.

‘If I just  … ' Eric wedges a long tree branch in the gap and puts his weight on it, pushing us away from the jetty until we begin to drift out through the fog and there's a tantalising glimpse of the open sea. ‘Give me a lever long enough and I will move the world,' he says, frantically dabbing with his branch to increase our speed.

‘Eh?' I say, paddling with a section of shed door on the other side of the boat.

‘Archimedes,' he says. ‘
Give me a lever long enough and a pivot on which to place it and I will move the world.
δῶς μοι πᾶ στῶ καὶ τὰν γᾶν κινάσω.
It's Greek, you know.'

‘Ah,' I say. ‘Of course.'

We splash at the water, slowly finding a rhythm, until we're deep in the mist, a fine drizzle coating Eric's glasses.

‘You're doing frightfully well,' says a voice above us in the fog.

‘Flora Rose,' says Eric. ‘Are you coming with us?'

‘Naturally,' she says. ‘We can't leave you without help – and anyway, who'd want to stay there on the island when there's so much fun and warmth on the mainland?'

There's almost silence as our makeshift oars plip in the sea, moving us forward little by little.

‘Victor wouldn't have helped you rescue Jacob, you know. He was just trying to get that rock to do its thing.'

‘Why'd you say that?' I ask.

‘Because,' says Flora Rose, ‘I just wanted you to know what he's really like. He'd have let Jacob drown.'

‘So what changed his mind?' I ask.

‘I reminded him  … ' She pauses. ‘That Jacob's the one with the spark.'

‘What?' says Tilly. ‘Are you saying I'm boring?'

‘No,' says Flora Rose. ‘I don't mean that. I mean, he gives off sparks and that's the thing that Victor wants. He's never seen the rest of you do anything – well, anything useful – except for the inflatable oar this morning.'

‘Is Billy there with you?' asks Eric, staring vaguely upwards.

‘Oh yes, he's the one who insisted we come. He's really very sweet – such a shame you can't hear what he says.'

‘Surely you could just fly over? Couldn't you?' asks Tilly, dangling her fingers in the water alongside the raft.

‘Not really,' says Flora Rose. ‘We need something to hang on to. We might just blow away if there wasn't something solid nearby.'

‘Interesting,' says Eric. ‘You need a corporeal mass for anchorage.'

No one quite knows how to reply so we struggle on through the mist in more silence.

It's raining hard now, possibly getting dark, and I'm completely tired with the rowing lark.

‘Tom,' says Tilly, creeping across the raft. ‘I'm scared.'

‘Don't be,' says Flora Rose. ‘I can see the harbour.'

‘Really?' Tilly stands up, rocking the raft until I nearly drop my piece of shed-door oar in the sea. ‘Where? Where? Hurry up you useless pair! We could be home in time for lunch.'

‘Well, more like tea,' says Flora Rose. ‘It's quite a long way, and I'm quite high up.'

‘Yes – triangulation can give a deceptive sense of distance,' says Eric from the darkness on the other side of the raft.

‘But it's so wet,' moans Tilly. ‘I don't like it.'

Slowly, above our heads, something like a huge jellyfish appears, glowing against the thunderous sky.

‘Oh Billy, how sweet,' says Flora Rose.

The sky jellyfish wriggles and bounces and I see that it's surrounded by the faint purple outline of a boy.

It is comforting, if completely useless as an umbrella.